wind

im waiting for my heart to stop.

the deceased are walking hand in hand. a presence that sends a shiver down my spine. torn decaying clothing. hair down their backs. no eyeballs. just sockets. dry cracking lips attempt a smile at the living. reproducing cells created us. age destroys us. and death brings us back to the earth. the deceased are dust. we are dust. with a little breeze. we are gone.

skinny vanilla

im caught up in a feeling of hopelessness. for this world. for its people. for its environment. we are continuing on a road of destruction. devastation. we talk. talk. talk. blog. complain. about what everyone else is doing. and do little to actually cure the disease. myself included. i have found a stagnant point in my life where i feel like my little progressive steps are minuscule. insignificant. not that i am choosing to stop. but i am finding myself more and more depressed as i serve the very people i want to influence. filling wax filled partially recycled corporate labeled "disposable" coffee cups with skinny vanilla lattes. over-sized plastic cylinders with high fattening sugar-poisoned frappicinos with a smile and a "have a good day". they mumble a regurgitated "thanks" "you too". to which i wonder has any meaning in itself except for the idea that this automated response kind of slips out like a sneeze or cough. sure. i will assist you towards the journey of obesity. diabetes. "second shot for free"? more caffeine to prolong your addiction? up the energy to buy more corporate labeled highly processed groceries to which you will fill ten plastic bags to later throw away. i will help you to fill our landfills. sure i will ring up your fried chicken and cheese laden greasy pizza. "no coffee today?" you are sure missing out. little girls ordering "light" beverages. already fearing themselves. sorry your mother denied you the 400 calorie muffin. it will go straight to your thighs you know. no one wants fat little girls. hhhhm. my brain is being pulled in so many directions these days. i dont know what to say. what to write. i dont know how to react to myself. i just want to be a bird. and fly away. a butterfly in the grill of your SUV. thats what ill be. hosed off with the rest of the pests.

080808

im lost somewhere in between the need to be strong and the overwhelming haunt of emptiness. loneliness. there are people crawling everywhere. and yet. im moving in slow motion in a desolate field of dead urban dandelions. trampled by the steady stride of hollowed eyed gaping mouthed faces. these translucent beings are not here. in my decaying paradise. silent. brainwashed. the ghosts pretend not to see me. straight gazed. hard face. i am no one worth while. and they continue on their way. i continue to be intoxicated by the allure of the city. the beauty of people. the little joys that seep out of the most unlikely places...i have made it my daily goal to purposely trip in these holes. all i want is to drown in a puddle of honesty. a river of realization. of what this world has in store for me. and i fiercely shake my head and curse my eyes. fuck everything and everyone that i have fallen in love with. i had my world. and i miss it.

paperclip

what is this life. is it a movie? do you live it expecting a beginning. build up. climax. and conclusion? do you watch it with previous notions on what it will be like? you hear mixed reviews. see failures. see box office hits. do you hope your life will end like the beautiful love story? or more like the suspenseful action movie...end it all with big car crashes and courageous sacrifices....hm. most people watch like its their top priority. get the notes right. get the movie right. make it beautiful so those who gave you life can raise their heads high and be proud of such an accomplishment. or perhaps you are some awkward abstract indie film. you don't live by anyones rules but your own. but in doing so. you seek the attention and love of those looking for such stories. they strive toward the abstract. feed off your aura. you beautiful unique you. liquid movie. you fit right in between indie movie 1 and 3. little puttering rain cloud. rain on everyone else's parade. not quite environmentally friendly as you are. not quite unique as you are. this is your big show. life. and if people aren't in line with your rules they are playing this game wrong. are you hiding cards under the table? have some big secret that everyone else is unaware of? if you push and push and push....green and blue will reverse direction. righteous red has their big head too far up their holy asshole to see yellow making a bigger and more significant impact. sorry. go back to start. before we start judging the game. the movie. lets rewrite the rules. the screenplay. lets include those who have never seen it any other way. and those who refuse to change. this world is big enough for every piece. person. i want to change the world. i want you to want to change the world. i want you to live a life that [you] think is beautiful. a movie that you would watch. may make sense. or not. most importantly. that you are completely happy with the way in turns out. hm.

damnit

and this is how it starts.

the chemicals start circulating normally. and ashley's mind shuts off to let her hormones wreck havoc upon every thing she currently holds close. the sleepless nights are back. the sad tired eyes have returned. i remind her this is a phase. like before. this too shall pass. this too. ashley. save yourself from yourself.

your voice is lingering in these walls. and the sheets have held onto just enough to keep me thinking i will feel your arm around me as i drift off to sleep. but like the night before. there is a lack of warmth by my side. the walls are echoing but the sound is from my own voice. whispering to myself. telling myself that i am safe. sleep ashley.

part2

the nursing home made a few calls. she had been unwilling to get out of bed that morning. she was just too tired. and who to arrive at her side but [my own grandmother]. even though it was just a short drive for any of her immediate family. they probably knew what was coming and didn't want to take any time out of their busy schedules. she felt cold. even with a good friend by her side. talking a sweet simple conversation, she begins to feel her eyes close. this is the end.

my great aunt mable died about a month ago in her nursing home room. my grandmother was at her side. they said after she closed her eyes and right before she passed, her mouth was moving without sound. the nurses say that, this actually happens to a lot of patients right before they slip away. they said that they believe its either them greeting friends in heaven or them saying their last goodbyes to love ones.

my aunt flossy (the younger sister) died sometime in january the first death i have experienced really. since then, mable had been getting worse. i can only imagine. losing your sister. especially considering how close they were. and. and although my last blog on the subject was fairly fictitious as was the beginning of this one, she did wake up one night in the nursing home and couldn't sleep because she was afraid of dying. afraid of being alone and not being able to finish something she was writing about flossy.

i cant say if i believe in a heaven. but i like to believe in one for just the two of them. maybe they passed away and returned to the bodies they had when they were like...25. i guess they were pretty rambunctious back in the day. life of the party and all that fun stuff. maybe they are living it up.

when i have more time. im going to write about my thoughts on death. hm. this was just a note to myself.

burns

smoke twirls around this head and i have forgotten how to write. how to think. no. i remember how to think. responding is the problem. how does one respond to a mind that is convinced that this is a dream. living in a dream that will not make sense until it is finished. in the end. aren't we all just a little pawn in a magnificent game of chess. just playing. watching. making each move with too little or too much thought put into it. until. check. our hourglass is spilling the last few grains of rice. checkmate. we decay. our thoughtful minds are rotting. cells once alive with love happiness and inspiration are motionless and without hope.