December 2011
3 posts
1 tag
Shiver
My cold fingers tried to find warmth on your skin. It caused you to pull away from me. I apologized like I always do. You shook your head no. It was just a reaction I read too much into. I said I was sorry for always being sorry. You smiled out of habit and I knew it was over then. I put no thought into what I said next.
“This is over.”
You were shocked and my fingers were still...
1 tag
I lost my soul mate with my lack of ambition. She’s married now with a kid. I can’t break up another marriage.
I can’t feel you thinking about me any more, even though you must.
I still think about you.
1 tag
Euterpe
She was a girl I kissed one night and she was a girl I wish I could have kissed everyday. She was a cliché, an archetype, she radiated inspiration with no half-life. A muse who gave me a mix tape. I thought about her when I drank, thought about how she didn’t drink. Then I would think about how she gave up sobriety and drank with me. There was magic in that night, I was magic, she was a...
November 2011
6 posts
1 tag
Karen, Jeff, and the Question
The morning started with the night before, which didn’t end in a phone call between them. There wasn’t a fight or even a small disagreement. Those things can be overcame, because with those things are passion. What had happen had no passion. It was a simple question, but not an innocent one.
“When are you two going to get married?” asked a new man, a new friend in her...
1 tag
Thank You
You called me a sad, complicated boy with a talent for words and I called you my everything. You weren’t, but you let me believe. You made me happy and you made life simple for someone who always wanted to die. You never called me weak, which made me strong, but not strong enough for the truth of your dishonesty.
I’m sorry you made me strong enough to say goodbye.
1 tag
Nice Legs
She was a pretty girl who still showed her legs in late November, but covered the rest of her body with a jacket. Her body was slightly thick, but her legs were firm and she was proud of them. Her steps were deliberate and her body was hunched— eyes down catching glances of the cute shoes she would let tip the end of her legs. You could see her pride and you could see what she’d like to...
1 tag
A Look at Homophobia and its Roots in Sexism
It occurred to me that a lot of male homophobia probably stems from sexism. Not major sexism. Not men-are-better-than-women sexism, but a more casual, you-throw-like-a-girl sexism. Most boys want to grow up to be men, which they are destined to do and can’t do much about. Growing up as a boy though, you are often compared to a girl when you come up short to what the regional and social...
1 tag
Taura
The end to my loneliness is a phone call away
A simple call, an easy one
You would take me back and I’d want you too
This isn’t a time I can take what I want
It wouldn’t be fair to either of us
I want you, I need you today and tomorrow
The next day, is not something I’m sure about
We can’t take this one day at a time anymore
This is bigger than twenty-four...
2 tags
Now It's Gone...
“So, it’s over?”
“I think so.”
“But I love…”
“Don’t say it.”
“But it’s true.”
“It will fade.”
“No, it won’t.”
“Yes, it will.”
“You can’t know…”
“Yes, I can”
“How can you?”
“It’s all...
October 2011
4 posts
3 tags
Advice on Prayer: An Atheist's Perspective
I was born an atheist and raised a Christian; Lutheran to be more precise, a happy medium between my mother’s Baptist fears and my father’s catholic guilt. We prayed before dinner and we prayed before bed. Prayer seemed odd to me as a child, you’re not allowed to pray for specific things like money, good Christmas presents, or a nice tweed jacket. You could however pray for...
1 tag
Babygirl
You called me a sad, complicated boy with a talent for words and I loved you for it. You asked me how I could love with everything and I told you I didn’t know any other way. You were amazed by that and let me believe you loved the same way.
Thank you for letting me feel happy for a little while. Thank you for letting me be in love with my own imagination.
I’m sorry I had to walk...
1 tag
Why Feminists Need To Get Back In The Kitchen: An...
This is not a call for women to be stereotypical women; this is a call for women to be true feminists. Feminism is about being independent, not asserting dominance over men. Finding a man to do your laundry, to cook your meals, or to clean your place is still depending on a man. As a woman you should be able to do all those things yourself. Having ignorance in any category and claiming, that...
2 tags
Nice Guys Aren't: Why You're the Asshole and She's...
You say you’re a nice guy. You respect women and would never cheat. You would never talk to a girl the way most other guys do. You’re special. That guy that any girl would be lucky to have. Yet, no girl seems to want you. That’s a little odd. Girls should like you. I bet you have a special someone in mind. I bet she’s a friend— maybe even a best friend. She tells you all...
September 2011
6 posts
1 tag
The Evil Pure
There is an evil purity to the blank page. The same evil purity found in un-molded clay or bare canvass. The evil that lives in pricey Italian notebooks that are too good for your writings. To write, to create, is to conquer this evil pure. To take something that’s been industrially made with a small threshold of error and difference, to take it and make it unique. Squiggling a line on the...
1 tag
Dark Haired Barista
I know when your shifts are
You make sure I do
My drinks are almost always free
Small talk and look down smiles
Band recommendations with loaned out books
I love the notes you write in the margins
We’re both more dressed up today
I come around closing time
You take off your apron, bringing it with you
It’s all you wear in the morning
1 tag
Camera Down
The photo I should have taken mocks me in my rear-view mirror
Like decisions I should of made, but put off
For when the moment was more right, when I was more ready
This is why I never grow
1 tag
Pretty Gay Boys
I miss how the boys used to look at me
The slightly older gay boys
The free cups of coffee my looks got me
The free coffee that my girlfriend got because she was with me
I miss the threats to get me drunk and suck me off
The tilted heads and sideway smiles
It made me feel pretty
It gave me the power girls had over me
I miss that feeling
It let me be a girl without the heels
I’m...
1 tag
Pretty Girl Walking in Heels
Pretty girl who doesn’t know how to walk in heels
Why are you trying so hard?
Those shoes won’t make you beautiful
Then again nothing could make me see you as beautiful
It’s not your unnatural gate or the awkward percussion of your steps
I’m in love with someone truly beautiful
Please stop walking by trying to turn my head
It’s shameful
1 tag
My Little Bitch
You’re a dirty whore that should be smacked in the mouth
Let me be the one that hurts you
You know I do it well
I’ve choked you till you kissed me back
Slapped you until you had that look of submission on your face
Then you started thinking about him
The normal guy in your life
He can’t control you, even if you asked him to try
Tell me again you’re a whore
Do it,...
April 2011
4 posts
1 tag
1 tag
A Cat Named Bob
His breath was layers of coffee and mint and it reminded her of winter nights alone. Tonight she wouldn’t be alone, she had him. She had Dave. She hadn’t done this a lot, but she had done it enough to find the ones that would stay the night. Something about them staying the night made it okay to her. Made it feel like more than random, mostly anonymous sex. It was the cuddling after...
toloveawallflower asked: Oh, no darling, I just know how to appreciate beautiful art, writing, and people. You and your girlfriend are absolutely lovely. My boyfriend, Kenny, and I plan on traveling around within the next three years so if we are ever near you two I will most definitely drop you some sort of line.
I keep getting sucked into this blog. Not trying to smother you with compliments but that...
I keep getting sucked into this blog. Not trying to smother you with compliments but that...
toloveawallflower asked: This is terribly brilliant. I am a floozy for words and your blog fuels my hunger.
Just beautiful.
Just beautiful.
March 2011
6 posts
1 tag
Miss September
I take her hand
Slide off her ring
Put it in a drawer
Take her like I did before promises made
She should have never not been mine
1 tag
A Sandwich would be Nice too
I love you from the top of my heart since the bottom is broken
The last girl fell right through the bottom
Maybe you could help me fix it
You seem like a girl who knows how to use the right tools
They’re all in the kitchen
I don’t expect that to be where you live
But some cookies would be good
1 tag
Slightly More Information about my Mental Health...
I’m a suicide survivor, multiple attempts. I’ve been institutionalized because of an attempt and before that I talked myself out of being institutionalized for an attempt. Both times I tried to kill myself the same way. Both times I was sent to a hospital and then sent to a mental health facility. The second time I don’t remember the hospital. I’ve always under estimated...
wickedscript-deactivated2011041 asked: Wow. You are an amazing writer. Hands down, very talented. Your SS Little Lucy Learning was extremely well written, it played on all my senses. I can only aspire to write more like you. Thanks for sharing.
How long have you been writing? And do you do it professionally? (If not, get ON that shit! A-sap!)
How long have you been writing? And do you do it professionally? (If not, get ON that shit! A-sap!)
1 tag
Little Lucy Learning
He grabbed her hair and controlled her with it. He didn’t do anything without passion or purpose. He pulled it to make her slam back onto him. The harder he pulled, the harder she would slam back, until he pulled too hard and there was a pause. Just a slight stopping until she pushed back with all the force she had. That was the moment he broke her. Where he pushed her passed her limits and...
1 tag
He Wears Body Spray
She takes a drag off his cigarette
Burning the taste of sex from her mouth
The stale taste of flesh and sweat
He smiles at her knowingly
He doesn’t know shit
Probably never has heard a woman cum
He probably has a signature move and a name for his junk
She hates herself a little more, but is better than him
That is why she does it
January 2011
2 posts
2 tags
Some Kind of Revolution (Chapter Two)
What kind of revolution? Just some kind of revolution; where he was pushing for something better. Something that would reach the complexity of beauty through the simplicity of evolution, him and a single idea that would grow into something beautiful. He could think clearly. Life became an easy choice, some days an unconscious one. His past dogma was erased. He pushed out thoughts of heartbreak,...
2 tags
Some Kind of Revolution (Chapter One)
He remembered the night he decided he would lose his mind. His parents had been with his great aunt sorting out her life. That’s what they did with her life since her husband died. He never met her husband, but he heard good things. Her husband did everything for her and when he died she was helpless. A helpless old woman, but she still had her mind then. Everyone he knew did. He was younger...
December 2010
4 posts
1 tag
Discipline Over Gear
I’m an artist, most would say I’m a writer, I’m writing this in a Moleskine with a Zebra F-301 pen, the ones with the great smelling ink. When I get to my MacBook Pro it’ll be transferred into TextMate and when I think of a title it’ll be copied into Scrivener. Between those steps ideas for this essay will be typed into my iPhone using Simplenote and then synced to my...
1 tag
Lived Past My Potential
I’m sorry to all the teachers that had faith in me
Sorry to all my friends too
I’m getting on the right track now but at twenty-four it seems a little too late sometimes
I shouldn’t have followed so many girls around
Should have made my own path in this life
I was smarter back then and a little older too
Unwilling to take shit from anyone
Anyone other than girls I knew...
1 tag
A Poem Called Emma
At first she was his muse, but now she was his writer’s block. Everything was great, but great is nothing new; great is just a better good. There are no stories in good. Happiness is short lived for most artists. It’s like a Zen mind, a thoughtless mind, eventually you notice it and in noticing it you destroy it. He wrote all the poetry he could about her. He did all the thoughtful...
1 tag
Bitter Silence
Becca was the kind of girl to have mono recordings on vinyl. She had a massive collection from all genres which she bought with whatever money she had left over from her paychecks and student loans. A music history major I met in professor Bell’s algebra class freshman year. She had better taste than me and that was unusual. I was the resident music guru in high school and her passion for it...
November 2010
3 posts
1 tag
A Series of Perfect Moments
Their hugs would last for more than a breath. They each used both their arms and would let go slowly, slightly scratching the other’s back, and he would sometimes kiss her on the cheek. They were falling in love. It would be nice if it was simple. Love sometimes is, but with her it was complicated. She was beginning to feel torn. There was the guy she would hug, more hold than hug, for so...
1 tag
Valerie
She had coffee stained breath and the bitterness of it smelled sweet to him. This was the mornings. She would wake up before him, get the coffee started and have a cup before laying back in bed with him. Since she needed the caffeine to deal with him. She loved him and he wasn’t trouble, but he spoke in half-sentences and without the energy she couldn’t keep up. He was on medicine now,...
1 tag
Jack the Lion
“The easy thing to do would be to stand here and cry. Everyone keeps saying how he wouldn’t want us crying but how else do you show that you’ll miss someone? I was the last one to see him alive and the one to watch him die. When I saw him I was past hope, past lying to myself and I knew he was not going to make it.”
Two days and a haircut earlier this man felt more like a...
October 2010
2 posts
1 tag
An American Haiku
I broke the seal on a piss
And found a clear mind without meditation
Fuck Buddhism
1 tag
It was the type of bed you could tie someone too.
2 tags
a sharp drop of acid in my throat
There’s a sharp drop of acid in my throat burning away any words that would be useful. I guess no words would be useful right now. I take a drink of water trying to kill the acid and to fill the silence. She knows about the burning, she knows me well. So well I should have known I couldn’t keep anything from her.
September 2010
28 posts
2 tags
Crashing Birds
They were like two birds crashing. They met, fell and put a dent into rock bottom. Deep enough in the hole to make a grave. They needed their drugs and she knew how to get them. She put her mouth on a dealer and it got them both enough. She cry more than she’s ever cried. He stole, because he was too much of a junkie to be a dealer. She slept with dealers without any tears. She knew she lost...
3 tags
I found a girl to love but I didn't get her name.
I found a girl to love but I didn’t get her name. I took her smile and nothing else, except for the glances I gave back to her. There was a growing frustration in her face as I did nothing. There was something there and we both felt it; she refused to make the first move. I’m glad she didn’t. I wouldn’t have known what to do, I’m not ready yet. I don’t hope to...
1 tag
I found a girl to love but I didn’t get her name.
1 tag
Babe, I got a problem and my problem is I remember you.
1 tag
I remember the fights less than the way your body moved.
1 tag
Please don’t come around just because I’ve been thinking of you.
2 tags
Guy Talk
FADE IN:
INT. A MESSY LIVING ROOM - DAY
JAKOB and SCOTT sit throwing a football to each other
SCOTT
So you and Kim?
JAKOB
Nope, didn’t happen
NOAH ENTERS WITH THREE BEERS. HANDS THEM OUT.
SCOTT
So you and Kim?
JAKOB
Maybe.
NOAH
You over Tiff already?
JAKOB
Don’t say her name. She’s not special. She is just an ex girlfriend. That is all she is and all she...
2 tags
People sometimes missed that she was beautiful but...
People sometimes missed that she was beautiful but never missed that she was alone. She didn’t mind heads not turning but she did mind everyone always trying to get her more friends. She was content with her small circle. Cats almost out numbered people and would be equal if she got a third. Her name was important because people always got it wrong at coffee shops, even the hipper ones that...
1 tag
People sometimes missed that she was beautiful but never missed that she was alone.