A Collection of Spectacles

Icon

Written on an Airplane: 30,000 miles high, 500 mph. Houses, trees, and plots of land form intricate images and shapes. When designing such layouts, did landscapers and architects ever think that one day the full weight of their work would be viewed from aerial heights? Cars on highways look like ants trapped on mounds of dirt, or on a more abstract scale, like blood cells as they travel through the capillaries and veins of the body. Plowed fields, buildings, and backstreets sometimes twist and turn, resembling the compact coils of the intestine, creating mock images of the folded up tissue of the brain.

Filed under: Blogroll, , , , , ,

I’m sitting outside, chain smoking. I spend the rest of the night following him around, asking him questions. He peaks my interest for a while but, like most people, he doesn’t hold it for very long. We’re on the floor in a room and he keeps telling me that I move too fast. I can’t do anything any other way. Then, my friend opens the door and she asks us what are we doing. I don’t have an answer. I don’t sleep. My imagination carries me, takes me away to distant places. We are sitting in a smoke filled bathroom (for which I am bound to get in trouble for) and I am about to leave when I am kissed. I react hesitantly. Then, a whispered why not is heard. Whether it came from inside or whether it was spoken into my ear I can’t remember. Either way, I can’t think of a good excuse, a good reason why I shouldn’t, so I go along with it, which is something that I do far too often. I dream a vibrant dream: Three sets of three balloons fill my room and I have to push them all out the window. My imagination carries me, takes me away. We’re standing in the kitchen. I’m cooking. I’m trying to get relationship advice, but I guess that the way in which I’m going about it is sending out weird signals. He says they’re all like [   ]. Every last one. By “they” he means his friends. Now, I’m lying in his lap and speaking incoherently, traveling every inch on the emotional spectrum in the span of a few seconds, because alcohol makes me honest. I am indecisive. I keep saying, you’re too nice, and I explain that I need to be treated like shit. It’s my primitive form of entertainment. It keeps me interested. I drink more, and I am able to have thoughtless sleep. My imagination carries me.

It’s all a jumbled mess. It’s all jumbled and mixed up.

Filed under: Blogroll, , , , , ,

Where do i start? i’ve been really really busy lately.                                                 i went on a cruise which was fabulous. i’m not going to go into too many details here but I had a lot of fun, to say the least. i still wish that the friends i made lived closer to me.                                                                                                   i stayed in Brooklyn for a while with my grandmother, which is always enjoyable. She’s really sweet and if i didn’t have such a relatively short time left in my current house and if i didn’t have such great friends i’d probably move in with her.                                                                                                                   

my father’s been unusually nice lately. oh wait i didn’t mention this. a few weeks maybe a month ago he had the first of a series of related talks about how abused he was by myself and my mother (example: i left for the cruise and expected him to do something a simple as feed the cat) causing him to explain that he was going to leave me alone, begrudgingly, and that if i wanted anything i had to go to my mom. he’s like a child sometimes. during the most recent one of these talks i told him about how his unique brand of yelling and berating (see, when he’s mad at me i’m a part of everyone who has ever wronged him. when i was a child who made childlike mistakes, i was on the same par as his mother who used to beat him) annoyed and hurt me. etc. etcetera. cetera. after i came back from ny he changed completely and complained only of how much he had missed me. at this point he’s either smothering me with affection or ignoring me completely, occasionally commenting on what a brat i am. although he’s now willing to do things like give me rides places i’m doing everything in my power to avoid him.  

i’ll write more later.

Filed under: Blogroll,