A Collection of Spectacles


i should nickname every boy i lay with. so that when i’m old and the real names have all turned into blank spaces at least i’ll have something to hold onto. or maybe i’ll write them all down like case studies. i’m sick.

this past weekend was eventful. 

i’d call him america because he reminded me of everything name brand that annoys me. everything that is wrong with the average product here (placed in the best packaging but the item inside is lacking in some respects) and was unhealthily attached to the phone. in the land of the disposable everything, he is used to serve a purpose and is then easily discarded afterward.  

maybe i should come attached with a list of rules and stipulations. the most important one being that i don’t have any to begin with. part of me could see this becoming a habit. i could simply leave bits of myself lying around in different bedrooms (breadcrumbs strewn here and there). i wonder if something inside is still trying to pick them up and find its way back to a path. then again, what’s the use of following the road to self-improvement anyway? and who’s to say that my way of going about these matters is bad? if i don’t know life’s end result then why not take time out to soak in the forest of self-indulgence?

 not much is left. 

i hate contrived machismo. the forced lack of emotion is always apparent. it’s insulting to people who really can’t care anymore. 

i’m done worrying about conventional prettiness. women should sink into self assuredness and stop wanting to disassemble the body they see in the mirror. sometimes how you’re perceived is a direct reflection of what you think of yourself. likewise the quantity or quality of who you’re with can’t be relied on as an appropriate measure of attractiveness so there’s no use in wasting life insecure. dismantle a girl’s femininity completely and she never wins the date. hide every trace of masculinity and she becomes paper-thin, unable to combat hardships. most are born with a decent balance between the two but some willingly give up parts of themselves as time goes on. 

part of me can’t wait until i leave. i’ve emotionally purged my body of my naive former self in this town. i’ll leave behind a captivating corpse but that’s about all. 

12 and spending a summer in brooklyn. my aunt forces me to make friends with a girl on the block so i won’t be lonely (but how could i be? i’m an only child. i’ve learned to make a sport out of loneliness) i hate everything about her because she is pushy and arrogant and annoying. she likes to climb to the top of the stairs and tell me we’re going somewhere. when i don’t want to go she says i’m leaving you. these words in particular always make me follow.

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i want everything and nothing all at the same time. 

rather, i want everything without working for it or without having to work in order to maintain it. 

(i want to live the american dream as defined by the socialite) 

that palpitating organ (that pulsating inner nuisance) is beginning to form the most magnificent abscess.

when all extraneous noise is turned down i am left with the sound of my breathing irregularly dispersed among the beats of my heart. sometimes the end of an exhale spills over onto the beginning of an inner “thump” which flows directly into the next inhale as if someone captured all that is bittersweet and looped it seamlessly. this late night melody reminds me of everything i want but cannot give enough to have.

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update: i have the dye but don’t have bleach so i have to wait until i have enough cash to get it. i haven’t had much cash lately because i’m barely working now. i have an idea but it’s less than well…legal. so i’m not getting into it here. 

i think it’s important to separate needs from wants. actually this is probably one of the easiest things to do (unless you’ve spent a great deal wallowing in doubt and self created fabrications in which case the difference is never apparent).

step one: achieve a state within which you are open and receptive to the world and everything in it. this means admitting things about the past that you are not proud of and highlighting unfavorable aspects of your character that could possibly cause destruction in the long run. 

then want and need become easy to differentiate between (save a few exceptions). separating wants from each other based on importance and the likelihood of occurrence is more difficult but i’ll see what works when i reach that point. right now i’m busy working towards a place i was at months ago but allowed to have taken from me. the point of origin. 

a singular person should never be on someone else’s “need’ list because, in reality, there’s no one that anyone needs but his or herself. 

either i’m beginning to regress and fears are actually manifesting themselves in the form of pseudo self reliance or i’m actually starting to nurture a greater sense of self worth. i can’t tell the difference yet but i’m really hoping that the latter is true.

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i just ordered manic panic dye off of the internet.

i’m excited.

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where’s my life headed now?

the options seem endless. i lack the foresight to know what will happen to me as soon as tomorrow and i can’t begin to think about what may happen to me next week over the next few months in two years. it’s all frightening but at the same time liberating. i’m trying to think more than twice about every situation before acting without overanalyzing to the point that life flies right by me. 

friday’s show was great. i realized how much i’ve missed them.

he’s now sympathetic towards almost everyone except for myself. currently we can barely be in the same room at the same time. i want to know what i’ve done that was so god awful that i don’t deserve fair treatment if not more. i’m trying to move forward without taking two steps back but things like this irk me.

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(the perfect word to start this post)

on my 17th birthday, my parents got all nostalgic, bought me huge balloons and left them in my room. the balloons were fine to have around, at first, but eventually they became annoying. i had to move them out of the way when they floated in front of the tv and they looked awfully creepy at night. instead of popping them all and throwing them in the garbage, i figured i’d dispose of them differently. one day, i opened the top part of my window (the part that lacks a screen) and released them, one by one. 

when you enter situations (even those that seem to use up all your energy), try your best to do what you feel is right. if you don’t get the result you want then try a different method. be willing and open to do this. 

however, if you do all this and yet you still find yourself arriving at the same conclusion and the only action left is to let go then don’t hesitate to do so. this way of going about things probably shouldn’t be followed when school or work is concerned but maybe there’s some truth to it as far as people are concerned. 

humans are not math problems or vocations.

you can’t force people to do anything. you can be subservient and grovel. you can be headstrong and yell. that doesn’t change the fact that the only person anyone can control in life is him or herself. 

so. like the child who is tempted to cry after the balloon he decides to attach to his wrist makes the decision to leave him that very same day, ascending towards The Great Nothingness, we all must deal with letting go when the time comes. we all will deal with this differently. 

i’ve come to this conclusion a million different ways at a million different points in my life for a multitude of reasons each time. 

maybe it’s time i actually start believing in it. 

i can’t think of a way to end this correctly

so here i feel forced to place

the umpteenth period

the punctuation mark which

with its simplicity bears the

beautiful power of killing and

at the same time starting things anew 


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yesterday claire and i spent hours after school talking to ms. thomas. it was nice. 

i was supposed to go out today but that fell through so i’m at home listening to music and getting kind of moody. which is something that i wanted to avoid. 

okay so sometimes the shit in my life does bother me. i just don’t like saying it because i feel like that’s the wrong way to go about things but that actually makes it all worse because it builds up and i end up in denial about everything. still not being answered does irritate me. my parents do piss me off to an incomprehensible degree. i’d be really stupid if i said these things didn’t matter to me when they do.

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School’s started. I wasn’t really filled with the anticipation and anxiety that I usually am when this time of the year rolls around.

It’s my last year.

I’m not really excited yet. It kind of feels like I’m going to go to high school forever, as weird as that sounds.

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