When I have a “freak-out”, I give myself the cool-off period to let the nerves flow back into their normal stream. After that, I reflect on why I freaked out, what made me freak out, and why I reacted to it like I did. I have to do this somewhere else though…
From time to time, I have to wander out where only nothingness exists. All is neither good nor bad when you disconnect yourself. It all just… is. You can’t reach me out here. Out here you can not fit in or be casted out. Out here, your existence is just enough. This is what I call the fringe. Standing on the fringe is to stand on the balance beam between the rest of the world & the emptiness of the other side. On the other side is what all of humanity dreams about. To some, the other side is where the conjured up thoughts of golden streets & lush waterfalls exist. To others, the other side is just a void space; the kind that our finite minds can’t imagine. The fringe lies between connectivity to the world & losing yourself into the unknown depths of the other side. I want to go to neither for the time being. I’m staying on the fringe, where I can meditatively come to my own assumptions about everything. If I step to close in either direction, all footing is lost on these plains of endless imagination. I say endless only because everything “just is” out here. No expectations, no pressures, no defining moments. Just zen.
& I’m not even high. So don’t hit me with those juvenile weed jokes. :]
- Elizabeth: You are the only person i know who creates homosexuality to cure writer's block.
- Catherine: There's a reason there aren't more people doing it.
- It doesn't work.
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.
The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.
Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.
She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
I am a new man,
I snarl at her and bark,
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.
The new album, The Verge, is very good so far. I’m about halfway through and I really like the songs. One thing about today’s scene that I don’t like is the lack of straight-up ROCK. We’ve got pop-post-core coming out our ears but we have nothing that’s really good rock music. TFT covers that base perfectly. The basslines on this album are sending tingles up my spine and Maika Maile is such an underrated vocalist.
If you like 30 Seconds to Mars, Papa Roach, and/or VersaEmerge give The Verge a listen. Their previous album, A Little Faster, is great too. They’ll be on Warped all summer!
- Get It
- Hunt Hunt Hunt
- Slip Inside (The Barrel of Your Gun)
- Blu or 18, they’re tied on first listen.
It felt good to get of the house to spend money and talk one-on-one with someone. It’s the first social thing I’ve done this summer. It’s weird, I’m not used to being this alone. You don’t even realize you’re alone until the last person leaves. This is why i’m glad i’m going to school. This is why I’m not going to try to rekindle my lost friendships. I’m starting afresh.
Also, something crazy happened. My ex boyfriend who I haven’t really talkedto in a year called me for directions. Um. wat
^Everything she said, except I’m not going to school. Kinda wish I was. Anyway I love this girl to bits and I’m very proud of her. And I was very happy to get out of my house and talk to her and go to the Starbucks Banana Haven.
You enjoy my typos, don’t you…