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meant to make the reader feel optimistic. like the whole world is inside of that one person who is rooting for you. please let me know if it works.
short and sweet ( i hope? ). i think it’s about loving someone who also loves you back and knowing why they love you and knowing that it’s all true, every bit of it. vice versa. just a nice feeling that everyone should experience at least once, myself included. here’s hoping.
feedback? suggestions? like it, hate it?
“i would kill a thousand babies to be able to hug you again. i can’t imagine anything feeling better than that right now … besides killing a thousand babies.”
- alex
—
whatever it is we had for the brief time we had it, it’s come to an end. it did so slowly, a little painfully, awkwardly, and we were both so frustrated for a spell, but it has ultimately ended well, and with a joke. all in all, i couldn’t ask for a better break-up, and when i really step back and look at the situation, i realize that i haven’t even come close to losing a friend.
that i see so much logic where i should see only selfishness.
what can i do about this?
that’s it, really. i’m digging a certain tumbleweed who also digs me back. so far, we’re both okay with just knowing we’re fond of eachother.
i would say ‘that’s that’, mattress man
but there’s always going to be more when it comes to things like this.
calm down
your cupid’s bow lips
your shoulders are
moving, tiger-striped
you’ll find yourself another
slip into dark jungle water
you’re bobbing your head
especially, the black guy and his laugh
that british guy
and that woman’s spaceship/dress.
and after 9 years, it still scares the living daylights out of me.
fuck drunk driving
fuck crying
fuck you, bruce
fuck you, patsy
thank you, awkward rickshaw man ( benjamin ), for the blanket and for making me laugh when i felt like i was going to sob like there was no tomorrow.
and you will gain everything.
.. uh, right?
in five days, i will have been alive nineteen years. the prospect doesn’t bore me, i’m not jaded or indifferent to birthdays. in fact, i’m rather excited, but i’m a little afraid to even get excited about it, because things rarely turn out the way we want them to. but nineteen is my favorite number ( along with four ), so i’ve decided that this is going to be a good age for me, and hopefully it will be.
scheming and slipping through loopholes and under the fences of every obstacle i find myself faced with. it’s not a bad way to live, just incredibly depressing and unfulfilling after a while. settling for just the basics as far as living goes ( shelter, food, water, air, books ), doing just what you feel you’re able to do at that moment and not striving to shoot for anything else, just talking about it.
as they say, talk is fucking cheap.
after being convinced ( i.e. threatened with bodily harm ), i drove a huge goddamn pickup truck around an empty parking lot for almost two hours on new years eve. we have a black president now for chrissake’s. it’s time for me to change too.
i just hope i can do it.
wish me luck.
actually, better yet, call me once in a while and say, “amy, are you driving? right now?”
if i say no, hang up on me, come to my house and kick my ass all the way out to the car.
right now, it’s really feeling like i just need to ring in the new year someplace else, away from my family ( the family i live with ). i do not want to spend new years eve angry and upset.
it takes a major holiday likes christmas to make us all get along. new years just isn’t high up enough on that scale or something. i want peace, i want to surround myself with people who make me feel happy, or even just complete strangers.
whenever i feel stuck or irritated, i tend to make “fantasy-plans” ( i’ll plan out living in someplace i’ve always wanted to live –sounds stupid, i know .. shut up! ) or just do things that will make me feel better. i’ll read about train hopping or look at the classifieds and the flats for rent in edinburg, or i’ll bake something or i’ll sit in the living room and color with my 4 year-old cousin ( who likes when i let him color the main focus of the page while i just draw silly things in the background ). today was no different. i did many of these things, only i also looked at ads for live-in nannies on craigslist.
first off, i’m well aware that some of these people could very well be some weirdo just trying to get somebody to their house. i’m aware of the precautions i should take. i’m aware, i’m aware, i’m aware, so just listen.
i found an ad requesting a live-in nanny for a single mother and her eight-year old son in chicago ( downers grove, a really nice part of the city ), illinois. the woman is offering free room and board in return for getting her son on the bus in the morning at 8 and being home by 2:30 to help him with homework, fix dinner and just interact with ihm and keep him company until she gets home. the job also includes keeping the house clean. the room she’s offering is a furnished basement with a full bathroom, television ( no cable, although there’s calbe upstairs ) and the home has wireless internet. it also includes access to what is upstairs ( oven, dishwasher, fridge, etc ). there is also the option for me to go to school or have a part-time job in order to earn money for other stuff ( like heroin –i kid! ).
i don’t think it’s likely that i’d get the job, considering my age, i don’t drive ( although there’s a bus and underground transportation system and some families in areas like that don’t require you to drive ) and the fact that i’d be re-locating there, but i was upfront about all that and figure it’s worth a shot. just trying for this has made me feel better about the fact that every measley-ass job i’ve applied for around here has not hired me ( because nobody is hiring ). don’t get me wrong though, this is serious. on the off chance that i get a positive reply, it’s likely that i’ll be bound for chicago.
hey, it’s better than waitressing at platinum plus ( which is actually the only place hiring — my mother seriously looked into it today ).
has been the most draining, frustrating day i’ve had all week ( excluding the fifteen minutes or so i spent at work getting my paycheck and talking to co-workers and the time i spent at a dance lesson. all that was more peace than i’ve had all week, and throughout both, i think i managed to seem like a mostly happy and well-adjsuted person, i hope ), and this entire week hasn’t been too swell either. i’ve pretty much just felt like shouting, and i’ve more or less done that. only it doesn’t make me feel better. sure, i don’t feel as angry, but i still feel tired and sad. personally, i’d rather be angry. afterall, you can do constructive things with anger, like join a rollerderby team ( uh, which i’ve actually looked into ).
the only thing that kept me from packing a bag and leaving ( where to, i wasn’t really sure .. ) today was that my mother wasn’t going to let me use any of “her” suitcases or backpacks ( which were in my room –but apparently i own nothing ) to pack my things and we’re out of trashbags. i was too exhausted from yelling over her yelling to even think about just using a pillowcase.
the sooner i can leave here, the better ( BUT WHEN, I SAY? WHENNN? ). although i know that we all love eachother deep down ( for now ), it’s mostly a house full of people who are fundamentally unhappy, and we spend a fair part of everyday making eachother miserable in some way, shape or form, be it intended, subtle, subconcious or not. i’m not any better either, and i get the feeling that if i don’t get out of this mess, i’m going to end up a terrible person. worse than i am now.
reading to kids. seriously, it’s alot of fun.
i spent the better part of today reading some of my books ( the phantom tollbooth, inkheart, custard and company: poems by ogden nash ) to my four-year-old cousin. he saw me reading inkheart, and asked if i would read some of it aloud to him and this just went on from there. i’m not entirely sure what of it he understood ( although he seemed to like the poems alot ), but he seemed geniunely interested, asked me questions about the stories and didn’t fall asleep until i’d been reading for close to two hours.
for some reason, kids have always had this weird curiosity about me, desptie my otherwise amibvalent demeanor towards them. i can completely ignore them, but for some reason, they gravitate to me like i’m some bug lamp smothered in peanut butter and crumbled oreos. michael jackson keeps asking me how i do it and what’s my secret, but i honestly have no idea. when it comes to children, i just have no idea what activities they like. speaking to them like adults, like equal human beings is about all i know how to do. and while they aren’t really responsive to this, most aren’t bored by it either. they just stick around.
this reading business hasn’t really awoken some deeply buried maternal instinct ( i still don’t want kids until i’m done with everything else i want to do –having kids is like the retiring before i retire ), but i have finally found something i can do in the presence of children aside from stand there awkwardly and ask them what their favorite animal is or what they think about the outcome of the recent election. now i can also read to them, and that is alot easier than talking sometimes.
we are not friendly anymore
we have not talked for so long
so long ago, me and my friend, we were friendly
and now we don’t see each other no more
i’ll talk about your feelings, but if you come to me just to stubbornly tell me that you’re going to kill yourself, no matter what i say, i’m going to punch you in the side of the head, breathe some fire and then destroy tokyo. i will go godzilla on your ass in a hot second.
suicide is the stupidest idea anyone has ever had, in history, ever.
i feel like feathers
on the back of a bird
i feel like the feathers
stuck back in third
the sun kicks a football
over some trees
and i just feel like feathers
on the back of a bird
on the back of some bird
i’m cracking walnuts
with a wishbone
i’m cracking walnuts
how should i have known
jupiter’s cheering loudly
over this crowd
and i’m just cracking walnuts
with a wishbone
with a wishbone
by amy
i have no idea what to call this.
you’ve gotta hope that there’s someone for you
as strange as you are
who can cope with the things that you do
without trying too hard
because you can bend the truth
until it’s suiting you
these things that you’re wrapping all around you
you never know what they will amount to
and your life is just going on without you
it’s the end of the things you know
here we go
you’ve gotta know that there’s more to this world
than what you have seen
because we all have a limited view
of what we can be
as we move along with our blinders on
each one of us feels a little stranded
and you can’t explain or understand it
each one of us on a different planet
and amidst all the to and fro
someone can say hello
here we go
the feeling that someone really gets you
it’s something that no one should object to
it could happen today
so i suggest you skip your habit of laying low
it’s the end of the things you know
here we go
because someone can say “hello,
you old so and so, here we go”
______________
part of me has no idea what to do next or if i will ever even be able to do what i need or want to do next. so, i guess i’m just going to change into my zorro costume after work tonight, go out and distract myself.
after roughly two months of being in my father’s truck, we meet again. i reunite you with your mate, the right little black shoe, and think there should be a celebration of sorts. maybe a cake should be baked, hands shaken, but we’re out of cake mix, and shoes don’t have hands. so i’m just going to wear you both while i lay on my floor and listen to otis redding.
where’s it gone?
.. this assumption could be true, but i’m not sure yet. besides, everyone knows what they say about assumptions. i used to be a fairly amusing person, but now it’s just gone.
i’m still perfectly capable of telling when something is funny and reacting to it, but as far as making my own jokes, lately the world moves in slow-motion. unfortunately, it’s not the good kind of slow-motion that they say happens when you’re around somebody you fancy ( although for me, things tend to just speed up ) or when you’re finally mastering something difficult.
i’ve moved past being depressed by all this. now i’m just really annoyed. rarely am i sad about feeling sad, i just get really frustrated about being sad. i simply want to know what i can do. that’s it.
either i really need a change of scenery ( montreal is a possibility ), or three years of little to no romantic involvement or interest is finally really starting to take it’s toll. sure, it sounds pathetic, but humans are naturally social creatures, some more than others. people say i’m picky, but i’d rather just deal with being lonely than jump a ship that i know is going to sink. so i guess it’s off to montreal for me.
i was resting my chin on the window sill and suddenly it hit me that i wasn’t serving any purpose at all and that i haven’t been for a long time. suddenly i realized that i was right.
and two hours later, i still don’t know what to do about it.
and a day from now, i won’t know what to do about it.
and a week from now, i won’t know what to do about it.
i don’t want to give up. i just need a goddamn hint.
there are many things i can see myself growing into and growing out of ( actually remembering how to swipe my debit card, fill out a deposit slip, not get nervous when i have to pump gas just because i saw some guy talking on his cellphone, not freaking out when i have to drive, remembering to clock in ), but never. never, ever will i stop carrying around some sort of device that plays music.
when i shop, pay for gas, talk to the bank teller, talk to store clerks, walk around hte flea market, when i eat alone at a restraunt, i am usually either listening to music or there’s some sort of device in my ears, ready to play any one of my favorite tunes at the press of a button.
however, everyone seems to assume that just because i’m wearing headsets or have got buds lodged into my ear canals that i can’t hear a single word they’re saying. they pause, look at me for nearly a minute until i finally have to initiate conversation, letting them know that i’m not some sort of idiot with egg on my face.
it’s called a pause button, people.
at least, not the sort most people would/should have. here, i think i will embrace a natural lack of flowery and advanced language ( even though i do “read too much” ). somehow, i find more meaning in commonplace words and phrases ( which is why whenever i suddenly start to trivialize them, i get nervous ). it i also my goal to come off as a strong individual to other people. strong, or at least like i know what i’m doing … or, if not that, at least like it doesn’t bother me that i don’t know what i’m doing.
see how i didn’t try using two-dollar words?
normally i would want to widen my vocabulary, and i do .. but not here. however, for the sake of .. well, i don’t know, but i like making lists.
favorite words, thus far:
one, two?
i’ve had this account for some time, but only a username. this, of course, is the blog portion that i neglected to make way back when. blogs are trendy things. it’s rumored that they live on a diet of two dollar bills and can perform laser eye surgery on willing participants. my vision is pretty good though, so i’m not sure how much use i’ll get out of this gadget.
