we act like fools

there is something awfully magnetic about water.
even if your sitting on the dock reading a book.
next to the no swimming sign. in a sweatshirt. and jeans. and a hat.
somehow, i ended up in it anyway.
fully clothed.
it was marvelous.

and i spent the rest of the night trying to convince our waitress i was NOT wet...

i woke up several times because i couldn't breathe.
i don't have a cold. i wasn't face down in the pillow.
i would just wake up lying flat on my back gasping for breath.
my air, its wearing thin.

i want to feel something real beneath my feet and breathe something real into my lungs...

this thing i'm doing, its called learning

silly people doing silly things.
like getting slurpees during 6th block and waiting around for strangers. to talk to them. and then they aren't strangers anymore.
like seeing the same person through different lenses or maybe different eyes.
like enjoying physics just because it frustrates everyone so much and sometimes makes you curse on accident. those glorious vectors.
like waiting alone for two and a half hours just to spend time with someone.
like staying up until two to finish homework that actually isn't due until next week.
like going out to lunch and never getting lunch, just talking.
like talking about the smell of rain and trying to figure out how we could get our rooms to smell that way always.
like meeting more people in the last two weeks than you have in the last two years.
like doing something completely crazy and actually have it work out for you...

i can do a lot of things on my own.
but that doesn't mean i don't need your help.

maps

there is a little book store about two blocks away from my house, and it was raining, so i decided to walk over there to look for atlases. and it was gorgeous, because it was raining and i was looking at maps and the lady was like "you can just have those." for free! so i ran home in the rain with two new maps! that i got for free! could today get any better? i don't think so.

i hope everyone is having a nice day. so you can smile with me.

i will build a rocketship out of orange crates.
and i will fly to a star.
and live there always.

with music in my mind and dandelions in my garden.

sudden

all this pressure came on pretty suddenly.
i've always prided myself on how well i handle pressure.
"i work well under pressure"
i say that. enough to make people probably think its true.
but for those of you that know me
really really know me
you are the ones who are aware of what a lie that is.
it's a filthy lie.

maybe if i say it enough, it will be true

day 1

all this means is it will take some getting used to.
this is not a strange place; its a new one.

sir, i miss you something awful...

august

i have a glass bottle filled with rain. and labled with the date. so i won't forget.
i can sing myself to sleep. and dream of strange and marvelous things.

i don't know if you noticed. but its just beautiful.

i really like just listening. there will always be those people who feel uncomfortable with silence and try to fill the gaps, but my favorite is when we just sit and listen. and no one feels uncomfortable. i had a great great night drive the other night with one of my friends. so good. just sit. just look. just listen.

i love sufjan. God bless that man.

magic

i wonder.
what it feels like to grow up.


the flickering streetlight.
the smell of gasoline.
the warm pavement.
the feeling of helplessness.
the feeling of hopelessness.
the feeling of wanting to get away.
the feeling that you can never ever leave...

i can feel it.

it takes hold of my organs, deep in the pit of my stomach it growls.

it clasps, clings to my heart and lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter as the days go on.

it takes my breath away.

intertwined with my veins, synonomous with my bones,

curling,

crawling,

caressing.

sometimes, its not so bad. sometimes, i get used to it. like it. even love it.

but there are those days when it wants nothing more

than to suck me dry and spit me out.

the days when i can hear my skeleton

creak

crack

breaking my back.

and i can only imagine how much it must hurt

how it would hurt

if i didn’t keep blacking out.

i know it won’t kill me

but it sure can try

as it widens

and it fattens

on all those delicious lies

i always swallow.

grabs my throat, makes me choke,wraps its arborous arm around my jaw

until i can no longer speak at all.

one day, i imagine,

it must find me no longer useful

that will be the day it will slip

rip

out of my open asophogus

into the smiling sun

and it will know all at once what it has been missing

maybe it will use me like a flower pot

the empty shell it has turned me to.

maybe it will forget all i’ve been to it all this time.

all these years.

but really, it is my fault.


mother always did tell me not to eat those seeds.

or it might grow inside me.

and swallow me right up.