my heart, my mind, my body, my sight, my hearing
is always let down lately.
sometimes, i can't bring myself to appreciate
and love the things surrounding me.
the air doesn't smell as fresh
the breeze, a degree too chilly
the sun, a bit too harsh
the sidewalk is hard beneath my feet
popsicles too cold for my teeth
i think you get my gist
unsatisfaction in everything
kindness, an annoyance
breathe, too clogged
melancholy, now always
it's been too long for me to call this "a stump"
too short for me to call it permanent
but enough for anxiety, unrest, unease
it's like a nest of rocks sitting at the bottom of your stomach
keeping you down, dragging you around
when in truth, it is you dragging it
but feeling, it doesn't feel that way.
this might have to do with the cigarettes
the weed, the alcohol, the molly
the work, the school, the family, the friends
this could all be just me
but considering that just makes the rocks grow heavier
and the air feel colder
and my palms sweatier
and my body jittering
and nothing feeling good
magic in a breath, world changed in a single inhale.
i hid under the fire escape off campus and smoked the weed jimmy gave me last week. the first time i ever smoked, it was the biggest let down. all the things you think will happen to you don't, and all your left with is a very hungry appetite and heavy eyelids. with jimmy's help, the lie was uncovered and all the things i expected from movies and stories and my imagination were born.
stillness, as you wait for it to arrive. not with the subtlety of arrival, but the harsh collision of a crash. but the best crash, like suddenly you're someone else or something else and you've just discovered a new spectrum of feelings you never thought existed.
music is like breath. suddenly you see, feel, and hear every level, even instrument, every contribution. i listened to a song so beautiful today, i contemplated whether songs could be soul mates too.
maybe it's this existentialism class or maybe its me but i've been thinking greatly of what is existent lately. i've always loved walking on grass, but what if grass doesn't like me stepping on it? the tree i want to climb, would it appreciate the branches i have snapped off? the dead snake on the sidewalk, wouldn't it appreciate help in privatizing it's death? i read the other day a story about someone contemplating whether or not to pick a beautiful rose from a bush, conclusion being "love means appreciation, not possession".
my mind has been delving a lot, and not just when i smoke. i try to separate myself from school, work, cigarettes (which I have come to pick up lately) and try to see myself as me. i stood outside crazy mocha one hour ago, smoking a cigarette and realizing that there was no me, no "knowing" "who i am", but only my actions. it's a truth i've known for a while, but only recently began to accept.
i apologize for the scattering of my thoughts. i can't seem to articulate the big picture lately, i've become too focused on examining the smalls. my life is rolling, going up, dropping down, nothing is consistent anymore, especially not myself.
i went to four euphoric shows this week (least to greatest): excision, lydia, sts9, dj shadow.
i got two piercings today. one, a nose piercing. the other, a matching grande helix. i love them both.
you held my head saturday night and massaged my hair and rubbed my back and said you're perfect. your face your eyes your lips your face your ears your everything and everything together is perfect perfect perfect. removed my shoes my cardigan my necklace and said you wanted to understand me. touched my neck my arms my back my legs my fingers my almost everything and with strength and kindness, because you said you were afraid. of scaring me off, of saying one thing to make me turn forever. claimed to have no intentions, no plan, nothing to be scared of, but what was the bottle of wine for? what of the surprise car ride, arriving at your place in the war streets, what was that about meeting your roommates. what about the roof and the movie we never watched, the one that never spoke a word to us but invoked every emotion? was it accidental when i checked the clock and it was too late and you were too tipsy and the buses rested in their garages and my roommate soundly in bed. bullshit to entertain the idea of a coincidence but let's humor ourselves and think yes ok no intention no plan no game no players no no. doesn't explain next day, after the stillness of a lunch that lead to a kiss on the forehead and affectionate words in the car, outside my house. your words weighed down like rocks as they spewed out your mouth, as everything in me hesitated because i couldn't believe you and i didn't and i could've been wrong saturday or sunday or monday but dammit not on tuesday. it's ok but it's not ok, i liked you but didn't liked you, you speak but don't actually speak. i knew my lesson before i learned it but it was taught to me anyway and it was never seek dependence on the independent, even when you yourself are an independent, be cautious of the ones with long hair, playfulness doesn't always mean innocance and adventurous doesn't always mean he'll want to take you with him, but most of all never trust a guy who doesn't trust your hookah.
friday night, last night
mad's made an unexpected visit,
chatting on jess's couch
it was a happy moment
seeing two of the loveliest i know
being lovely with each other.
she kept saying no about going out
and i said "i wouldn't be asking so much
if i didn't really want you to go"
and she said yes.
on her couch, with a bottle of
well vodka sitting on her counter,
i convinced jess to put her glass away
and grab bottled water instead.
on her couch, we watched mad's
followed her, and like her tasted
the harsh salty chemical taste
sitting beneath our tongues.
sandwiched between cars,
we tasted it again.
inside, an explosion of colors
reds pinks blues greens purples
surrounded by shadows.
a girl in red furry boots asks for my photo
'because you're just so damn cute'
and i thought of her for the rest of the night
and realized everyone was beautiful
and i just wanted to tell them all.
i didn't, but i got close.
jess began to worry, anxiety peaked
ken spoke gently to her, providing words
mad's and i couldn't provide.
anxiety peaked again
except this time in my stomach.
one, two, three times it came out
and went back down.
except the fourth time
it went down in the men's bathroom
that girl you hear about
puking in the mens urinal
my clothes were spoiled
and it terrified me to look in a mirror
it terrified me to look at mad's.
she pushed others away and held me
pulling me out and into the ladies room
wiping my clothes clean, my face clean, my arms clean
everything was orange and pink
very pretty and very horrifying.
mad's skin looked like liquid
my skin looked like liquid
airbrushed hollywood liquid
yellow glass doll smooth
sunset toned bright.
mad's had three eyes at one point
and suddenly i had two
and suddenly everything was color
and awing and absolutely beautiful
and feelings were ugly
because it took away from the air
and the air. the air was so beautiful.
jess's cardigan saved me
nate and his water saved me
the bathroom lady saved me
when she offered all her perfumes
and mad's saved me
because i believed her when she said
"you're fine! you're fiiiiiine"
i told my ma i'd stop covering my hair
(because i actually do that in real life).
she was a wreck but she already was before
i told her. her eyes watered and her voice quivered
and she said "i can't be too surprised"
but i still think it surprised us both.
and then it was over and
she was offering me potatoes
and hummus for dinner.
she called five times sunday
i was so mad when i finally picked up
i hadn't spoken to her or my dad for weeks
after i called my dad and told him
my heart is beating too fast
my palms are always sweaty
dad, i'm so nervous
dad, i don't know what's going on
after i told him i just wasn't ok
and then he blamed me
and my betrayal
to my faith
i hung up on his voice
and ignored all his e-mails
stopped talking to my mom
when she finally heard my voice,
it was harsh, unmoved, on purpose
she cried and said
i need your help
i need you to come home
why don't you talk to me
i'm your mother
there's something in me
i don't know what
i'm going to the doctors on tuesday
talk to me
i'm your mother.
i forced myself to sleep
gave myself four selfish hours
i dreamt of lavender popsicles
and a tumor.
i've noticed how she grows weaker
as i become stronger.
it's unfathomable sometimes, still.
i've always considered parents to be like God's
controlled, figured out, perfect,
but their not
sometimes i'm not ok with it
sometimes i am
because it makes them
i'm not perfect