i need a journal i have a lot of thinks right now.
I wrote on various parts of myself with sharpie and i feel like that’s not constructive..
I feel like a crumpled pie of clothing that’s been lying on the floor for days, and so worn out the only way to get me decent is to throw me into the washing machine until it spins and saturates me enough to get out the little bits of dust.
I just want my body to be engulfed by skin and bones and weight and soft blankets, I just want to burrow and bury myself into a nest of fragile existence.
i want to stop having such elaborate day dreams because they feel more like an apology to myself for living in a way that doesn’t satisfy my being.
Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep.
Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.
when you feel the flames tugging
on flesh you did not remember owning,
relearn dirt. relearn damp soil and rain
on concrete. relearn flooded earth.
our own eyes become too dry to see the
puddles we spent our childhoods
tame the lion waters today, make pacts with the moon
for kinder rivers, taste the salt of wasted bodies
in naked oceans. the goddesses of tsunami
also make tears, so drink all you can.
this place is a collection of craters filled with
millenniums of crying.
i want to learn to drown in things that
were not made for swimming. like love. and
sheets. and a sunday so sinful that soon
you forget saturday night.
i want to find poems high enough to dive off of.
i want to come home from heartbreak with a pond
of ‘i love you’s waiting for me. where there will be
hummingbirds with eyes that glow, and crickets
that sing of waters too.
Today was fun. I saw the Catching Fire movie with Christina and Heidi and we sat on the balcony part of the theater, which i had never before sat in, and it was awesome because people don’t go to afternoon movies in the middle of the week so no one was up there but us.
The Semester ends next week, and I just don’t really care about any of it. I need to study, but I’m not at all stressing out over it or even really acknowledging the fact that this entire semester just like walked by me and here we are at the end of it and I never actually got into the rhythm of it. I spent half the semester avoiding Physics, and now I’ll have to learn the things I didn’t learn. And I spent most of the semester ignoring chemistry.
I think the past three/four months of my life has big one big blur of being at the beach, and meditating, and reading books. And just avoiding everything that was happening to me, how do you become a bystander in your own life? I don’t know, it just sort of happens. You’re experiencing it but also watching as it’s literally moving forward.
It’s just so funny how deeply the disconnection is, between me and reality, I have my head constantly in the clouds, it’s unreal. I realized that I’m not a fan of letting reality define you. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but I feel like reality brings people down so much, and I just feel like being alive is not about your strict relationship with reality, but with unreality, with your hallucinations, and illusions.
If you’re open, the world will surprise you. I believe in that.
"You are terrifying and strange and beautiful, someone not everyone knows how to love."