points

I set out from point a

With disdain for its smallness

With contempt for who it made me

A smaller spot than insignificance

Ever stole, held, or swallowed

I packed my bags and polished my feet

Measured the road ahead

And was all but ready

To begin my geometric digression

An ocean following an equation

Sliced to precision,

I became a messiah

Set out to steal my word

From the mouth of god

The frothing stingy

Mouth of god that I wasn’t

Even sure spoke.

Point B loomed ahead

With smoke and signs

A Hollywood mountain

Haunting my sights,

My nights, and my appetite

I wasn’t starry eyed

But I saw the lines of my palm

Sketch a 4 leaf clover

And I was off

I was off

Climbing lines

Like rope.

Currently Reading One Hundred Years of Solitude By Gabriel Garcia Marquez see related

The more and more i think about who i was and who i am, i uncover this huge inconquerable chasm, dressed in a light layer of dirt and seeds but when i try and step on it, i find myself falling, gasping on fast air.  When i was younger, i was full of bold obscene careless gestures, my dramatic sloppiness a trademark, i went to the psychic to find out if we were soul mates, i opened a word document nicknamed it magnum opus and begin to write the next great american novel.  I wonder if its a good thing to have lost this..this napoleonic complex of self...like a midnight movie virginity..it has to happend.  I'd be okay with it i really would if the loss had just left something in its place.  All i have is shreads of a hat im too afraid to try on, wear out in crowds.  AFter all, the psychic said no..and i never finished my magnum opus.

maybe its a good thing we grow up.  Maybe fantasy has an expiration date, some pillow headed mushroom that helps us believe in legends and ourselves but rots after 7 years on the shelf. 

"When I got inside I stood in the mud room for a minute with my muscles creaking, thinking about many seconds falling away around me. And I, impatient just to have them pass. How gross, to be at the helm of a life and find yourself thinking even for a second when's it going to be over. Waking up as the mornings grow shorter and shorter, steeling yourself against the idea of the day. Like the day was a prison sentence. And the day: unremarked upon, brightening into sunrise, burning off its own fog while I climb the hill and look at cars' exhaust pipes and close my mouth on a day of honest answers. Honest whatever; honest things, cast aside in favor of the hot and the now. I have a glass of wine, and it tastes like juice. The jury is still out on whether anyone can be sentenced."

"I've been doing a good imitation of no one for the past couple of days. Crouching out of the rain on the six a.m. sidewalk, in the corner of the after-dinner couch. No one who would attract a glance."

"Because I love you is not just a vast, freeing shout that strings stars across the universe. Sometimes it is an awful, twisted effort."

Currently Reading The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry see related

ill be the first to tell you

i dont know what im doing...

i wish hed fight for me, serenade me, win me back

im ridiculous

love, sof

Currently Watching Sex and the City - The Complete Series (Collector's Giftset) By Sarah Jessica Parker see related

i have a question

would you rather have wisdom or intelligence?

love, sof

Currently Listening Both Sides Now By Joni Mitchell see related

hey kids

thought it was time for a real update

things have been...surreal lately, not especially fantastic or terribly grusome, just strangely displaced

i know i know i always feel this way, its because the gypsies stole me at birth and once you go gypsy you cant go back, maybe that explains my occasional urges to decode the secrets of tea leaves and pick the pockets of tourists...especially tourists with fanny packs

yup, still crazy

im seeing a boy...hehe...thought id throw in some gossip, he knows who gordon parks is, thats enough to get me interested..

anyways, schools gotten unbearable, the relentless stream of words and facts weighs me down and if it wasnt for my weekends, i dont know how id survive

as far as epiphanies go, theres two

the glamour of a risk runs dry fast, leaves you parched for something solid, bank accounts and someone to come home to

and the second....i hesistate to type it here, afraid i wont be able to hold on to it

but i need  to start seeing things in me that others do, this constant need for validation grows old, annoying, petty, unstable...

thats all really

hope youre having a gorgeous night

love, sof