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29 May 2010 @ 07:08 am

& i know you meant to show the extent to which you gave a god-dang
it ranges real hot and real cold, but i'm sold
i am home on that range

& i do hate to fold
right here at the top of my game
when i've been trying with my whole heart and soul
to stay right here in the right lane

but it can make you feel over & old
lord, you know it's a shame
when i only want for you to pull over and hold me
'til i can't remember my own name
04 April 2010 @ 12:50 am

mr blue, i told you that i love you, please believe me.
mr blue, i have to go now, darling, don't be angry.
i know that you're tired, i know that you're sore and sick and sad for some reason.
so, i'll leave you with a smile, kiss you on the cheek and you will call it treason.
well, that's the way it goes some days, a fever comes at you without warning.
i can see it in your face, you've been waiting to break since you woke up this morning.
mr blue, don't hold your head so low that you can't see the sky.
mr blue, it ain't so long since you were flying high.
26 March 2010 @ 04:55 pm
24 March 2010 @ 11:25 pm

you make me lose my buttons, oh yeah, you make me spit
i don’t like my clothes anymore.

mmm. i forgot how much i love queer sexual activity.
06 February 2010 @ 06:32 pm
Life has just three rules:
Paradox - Life is a mystery, don’t waste time trying to figure it out
Humor - Keep a sense of humor, especially about yourself it is a strength beyond all measure
Change - Know that nothing stays the same

Last Night in Montreal

The problem, Eli used to think before he met her, was that he’d never suffered, except insofar as everyone does: the stalled trains, the alarm clocks that don’t ring when they’re supposed to, the agony of being surrounded by other people who all give the impression of being way more prolific and considerably more talented than you are, wet socks in the winter, being alone in any season, the chronic condition of being misunderstood, zippers that break at awkward moments, being unheard and then having to repeat yourself embarrassingly in front of girls you’re trying to impress, trying to impress girls and failing, girls who can’t be seduced and/or turn out to have boyfriends in the morning, girls, being alone, paper grocery bags with falling-out bottoms, waiting in line at the post office for a half hour and then being snapped at because you don’t have the right customs declaration forms to send the birthday gift to your perpetually traveling brother, waiting in line anywhere, phone calls from a disapproving mother who doesn’t understand, the crowd of overeducated friends who understand too much and can’t resist bringing up long-dead philosophers and/or quantum physics over an otherwise perfectly civilized morning coffee, girls, an overall lack of direction and meaning as evidenced in your inability to either finish the thesis, abandon the current thesis and write a different thesis all together, finish the different thesis, or heroically give up the whole thing completely and go to work at a gas station somewhere upstate, stepping in things on the sidewalk, lost buttons, most kinds of rain, standing in line at the grocery store behind the lady who just knows there’s a coupon in here somewhere, girls, and the sense that all of this adds up to a life that’s ultimately pretty shallow and doesn’t really mean that much, particularly in comparison to the older brother saving children in Africa.
pg 11

…the writing was wild and allowed for no margins, words crashing up against the edges of the page:

I wanted to be her north star, I wanted to be her map. I wanted to drink coffee with her in the cafes in the mornings and do things, as you do, as she did, instead of just philosophizing about them and deconstructing their endless Russian-doll layers of meaning. I was alone before I met her. I wanted to disappear with her, and fold her into my life. I wanted to be her compass. I wanted to be her last speaker, her interpreter, her language. I wanted to be her translator, Zed, but none of the languages we knew were the same.
pg 241
26 January 2010 @ 05:41 pm

officially syphilis, chlamydia, gonorrhea, and HIV free.
have at it.
20 January 2010 @ 01:49 am
he's just so adorable. why why why?
good thing i'm so smooth. baha.
06 November 2009 @ 09:15 pm
17 October 2009 @ 12:20 pm
i am satisfied
hiding in our friends apartment
only leaving once a day
to buy some groceries
daylight i'm so absent minded
nighttime meeting new anxieties
so, am i erasing myself?
hope i'm not erasing myself
i guess it would be nice to give my heart to a god
but which one? which one do i choose?
oh, the church is filled with losers
psycho or confused
i just want to hold the divine
and forget
best thing ever written about me:

there was this girl named Jess who was quite a looker
some people think that she might be a hooker
she's a chatterbox
and sly like a fox
and she plays a mean game of snooker