6:19am
Can't sleep.
Excalibur hotel. Nathan on bed. Other bed empty. Me on floor. Not in bed because...
11:06am
FLASH...
Showered and wide awake now. Late check-out in an hour or so. No Rey Rey in the room and it's under his name. No phone for the boy either. Oh well, left my message and going on with the day to enjoy time with Nathan. Movies & 1-hr photo to develop the pics from last night with his girlfriends from work. I can say with a true degree of honesty that I enjoyed myself. Phew.
Good talk into the wee hours of the morning.
Now I'm trying to move everyone along. Mother hen. A role I play well, but don't always want to be in. (SO I take myself out now and again. Bang!)
Oh... and I smell like smoke. And When I get out of the shower and dry off, the towels smell like smoke to me. They should just make it a shampoo and bar soap fragrance so one doesn't try and wash it out. Ode De Poo Poo Ash and other fine assortment of aromas. How quickly one forgets this smokey existence after leaving, but an ever pungent punch to remind me it's time to go home soon.
"You're Beautiful" by Madagascar plays. They say... "We're all here together..." but we're not. In spirit we are. If you can access your spirit in life, you really are ahead of the game--as lost as you may feel. For in the end--whatever end that is--knowing where you're going is simply a map you've drawn for yourself with crayons with the universe as a backdrop.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Love That Kills
The earth is opening up and swallowing whole, like that ice cube that makes it past your lips and hits the back of your throat before you can arrange the throat muscles to block its passage. A cold trail can be felt gliding down and then no more cold--no more feeling, just the lump that has settled and is waiting to be melted. I am waiting for this lump to melt away.
They are too young to be dying.
Not that death is discriminatory, I suppose.
And what do I know with running nose
or melted eyes
shaking in stillness?
Nothing more than empathy
Nothing less than common "senses"
And what do I feel that is not felt by anyone else?
This dread.
It is a sheath for the sharpness of understanding;
Dull me down, oh dull me down
you mother fucking universe--spawning ominous oblivion;
sacred suns
sandy havens
And bombs of love that kill.
They are too young to be dying.
Not that death is discriminatory, I suppose.
And what do I know with running nose
or melted eyes
shaking in stillness?
Nothing more than empathy
Nothing less than common "senses"
And what do I feel that is not felt by anyone else?
This dread.
It is a sheath for the sharpness of understanding;
Dull me down, oh dull me down
you mother fucking universe--spawning ominous oblivion;
sacred suns
sandy havens
And bombs of love that kill.
Awide Awake AwwwNO
I just woke up from a dream. I was working at VZW again. Steve Harrison was there in some capacity as well as someone else I knew but cannot place. Ryan Baldwin walked by the hall at a point, dressed in slacks and a button up shirt. It seemed that I was coming back after being gone for a while.
I just want to go back to sleep now, but work starts in 1.5 hrs.
I just want to go back to sleep now, but work starts in 1.5 hrs.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Next Text
Wake up. Wake up. I want up. I think I want up. When will this surreal dream end? When will I open my eyes and be awakening next to a person and not a pillow? (Maybe when I put a mirror next to the bed)
I watch others grow but I feel like I've given up on that. I feel like my soul is stuck between this place and wherever it is I'm supposed to be. I'm always so tired. I could sleep for eight hours tonight--which I plan on doing--and wake up tomorrow wanting to close my eyes again.
I returned library books that were late. $6.75 for poetry that I didn't read. (Didn't read and didn't inspire me to write.)
Sleep now. Sleep now. I want down.
I watch others grow but I feel like I've given up on that. I feel like my soul is stuck between this place and wherever it is I'm supposed to be. I'm always so tired. I could sleep for eight hours tonight--which I plan on doing--and wake up tomorrow wanting to close my eyes again.
I returned library books that were late. $6.75 for poetry that I didn't read. (Didn't read and didn't inspire me to write.)
Sleep now. Sleep now. I want down.
Monday, July 24, 2006
24-JULY-2006
"The sand between my feet and my sandles makes me want to pee."
-Nick (Fuego)
23-JULY-2006, West Beach
If I've been absent, it's only from myself and the writing tends to show that.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Sleep Like A Baby
KUMHO TIRES.... Cum Hoes? No, they're COO-MO tires. Hmm, could've fooled me.
It's that some time around 5am and I turn the corner in my car; the headlights meet with a bunny's eyes and it stops dead in its tracks on the grass. There's a public radio interview from the BBC with Martina Navratilova. Fuck...it's been a night.
Blink.
I was in the backseat of my car. Michael Bouma was driving home from the Tin Lizzie. I hear Justin say, "You're going to have to slow down soon." Meanwhile, Eddy is moving past "drunk mad" and into "drunk sad" as his feeling about Randy in the hospital started to spill out. Now we're at the stop light off of the freeway and Justin opens the car door to lean out while Eddy falls over on my arm. I look up at the rear view mirror and meet eyes with Michael. All I can do is laugh while the hazard lights go on so that the few cars that are around can drive around us.
Blink.
I think he's ok after I park in front of his house and get him out of the car. I sit back down to drive away, thinking that he'll walk to his front door, but he walks across the street and stands between two cars to piss in the gutter. I'm too tired to stop him and recline the seat for privacy---my own. When I look up, he now laying on the hood of one of the cars.
Blink.
I need to sleep.
Blink.
I read an encouraging update about Randy from Joey.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink......
It's that some time around 5am and I turn the corner in my car; the headlights meet with a bunny's eyes and it stops dead in its tracks on the grass. There's a public radio interview from the BBC with Martina Navratilova. Fuck...it's been a night.
Blink.
I was in the backseat of my car. Michael Bouma was driving home from the Tin Lizzie. I hear Justin say, "You're going to have to slow down soon." Meanwhile, Eddy is moving past "drunk mad" and into "drunk sad" as his feeling about Randy in the hospital started to spill out. Now we're at the stop light off of the freeway and Justin opens the car door to lean out while Eddy falls over on my arm. I look up at the rear view mirror and meet eyes with Michael. All I can do is laugh while the hazard lights go on so that the few cars that are around can drive around us.
Blink.
I think he's ok after I park in front of his house and get him out of the car. I sit back down to drive away, thinking that he'll walk to his front door, but he walks across the street and stands between two cars to piss in the gutter. I'm too tired to stop him and recline the seat for privacy---my own. When I look up, he now laying on the hood of one of the cars.
Blink.
I need to sleep.
Blink.
I read an encouraging update about Randy from Joey.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink......
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Posted on a Fence
Falling to pieces in different directions, like a tissue that has been repeatedly used and crumpled back into one's pocket or purse. Twisted, flaking, frail. I'm not running and I'm not wandering. I'm not hoping and I'm not quantifying. I'm waiting and that's not something I do with ease or enjoyment.
Birthdays this month. Smiles & laughter, the stuff that strung altogether makes life this process worth doing. The past year and a half I've been standing in this doorway. I'm one foot in two streams of thought. I feel like I'm being more of an observer than I've ever been before, as if watching more closely will help me to decide something. I'm not sure why, but I don't just want to make the arbitrary choice or the apparently confident one.
"...it wasn't because I didn't know enough, I just knew too much."
Birthdays this month. Smiles & laughter, the stuff that strung altogether makes life this process worth doing. The past year and a half I've been standing in this doorway. I'm one foot in two streams of thought. I feel like I'm being more of an observer than I've ever been before, as if watching more closely will help me to decide something. I'm not sure why, but I don't just want to make the arbitrary choice or the apparently confident one.
"...it wasn't because I didn't know enough, I just knew too much."
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Starry Bursts
All the light let in.
All time is paced.
This vision is like ecstasy
And yet sad at the same time.
Strange that eyes so darkened
are able to see such light.
Music is the medicine tonight.
Madness... it's audience.
All time is paced.
This vision is like ecstasy
And yet sad at the same time.
Strange that eyes so darkened
are able to see such light.
Music is the medicine tonight.
Madness... it's audience.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
He Who Is No More
There's a grain of sand in my right eye that I haven't been able to dislodge either by immersing my eye in water and blinking or by crying. (It felt good to cry though)
Tumbles of thoughts. Some funny; some romantic, some just dreams that were built on real emotions; some memories that have staying power because they're based in a reality. We saw Randy yesterday. The doctors have asked for visitors to stop at this time because of concerns with his vitals while there. I know him... he wants information and he wants to be able to talk to them and he wants all of the tubes running in & out to be yanked from him. He wants a drink, a cigarette and a "lil sumthin' sumthin'" (I can hear him say.) I'm not strong enough to write more now.
The beach performed most of its usual healing powers on me today. I floated out past where the waves were breaking and stared into a sky with kites and birds. Listening to my own breathing as the waves covered my ears, I thought of my grandmother dispersed out among the tiny particles all around me. I just want to feel her warmth right now. I wished that Tyler could have given it to me, but he needs his strength and I would be taking too much. Mario and Alex are these seemingly mythical beings that I keep around but wisdom has already dictated distance. When I'm with my friends I am in a mind frame where I feel a warmth that keeps me running, but it doesn't fuel me. They are wonderful people, but I still long for those moments of safety found in a single kiss. It's sometimes weird around Eddy because of such shared seconds. Nick and Joseph were at the house last night and I had that same sensation or strangeness, but not as strange as it would be around Jorge right now. I sometimes think that a clean slate is all I need, because memories make appeals that cannot always be accommodated.
Dry dry skin.
Eye still irritated.
No more tears to give.
Tumbles of thoughts. Some funny; some romantic, some just dreams that were built on real emotions; some memories that have staying power because they're based in a reality. We saw Randy yesterday. The doctors have asked for visitors to stop at this time because of concerns with his vitals while there. I know him... he wants information and he wants to be able to talk to them and he wants all of the tubes running in & out to be yanked from him. He wants a drink, a cigarette and a "lil sumthin' sumthin'" (I can hear him say.) I'm not strong enough to write more now.
The beach performed most of its usual healing powers on me today. I floated out past where the waves were breaking and stared into a sky with kites and birds. Listening to my own breathing as the waves covered my ears, I thought of my grandmother dispersed out among the tiny particles all around me. I just want to feel her warmth right now. I wished that Tyler could have given it to me, but he needs his strength and I would be taking too much. Mario and Alex are these seemingly mythical beings that I keep around but wisdom has already dictated distance. When I'm with my friends I am in a mind frame where I feel a warmth that keeps me running, but it doesn't fuel me. They are wonderful people, but I still long for those moments of safety found in a single kiss. It's sometimes weird around Eddy because of such shared seconds. Nick and Joseph were at the house last night and I had that same sensation or strangeness, but not as strange as it would be around Jorge right now. I sometimes think that a clean slate is all I need, because memories make appeals that cannot always be accommodated.
Dry dry skin.
Eye still irritated.
No more tears to give.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Crowded Heart
"Now I'm walking again...
To the beat of the drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart..."
-Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House.
To the beat of the drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart..."
-Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Repeating the repetition
All I have are a bunch of song lyrics that are playing in my head. I haven't gotten to sleep in peace for a few weeks now. I don't see that changing anytime soon. Ouch. It hurts so much and I can't do anything to stop it. Even the ocean on the 4th of July could quell the pain for a few hours before it all caught up to me again.
....you can't do anything. Thanks though. He's out there, somewhere. She's watching over me, somehow. I'm right where I'm supposed to be, or I wouldn't be.
"I thought you were special....I thought you should know, that I've run out of patience. I couldn't care less."
-Special by Garbage.
LIFE FOR RENT - DIDO
I haven'?t ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologise that once again I'?m not in love
But it'?s not as if I mind that your heart aint exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
And if my life is for rent and I don'?t learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
I'?ve always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what'?s happened to that dream
Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
And if my life is for rent and I don'?t learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
While my heart is a shield and I won'?t let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won'?t even try
Well how can I say I'?m alive
If my life is for rent...?
Plumb - Damaged
Dreaming comes so easily
'Cause it's all that
I've known
True love is a fairy tale
I'm damaged, so how would I know
I'm scared and I'm alone
I'm ashamed
And I need for you to know
I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'Cause I feel you, I feel you near me
I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'Cause I feel you, I feel you near me
Healing
comes so painfully
And it chills to the bone
Will anyone get close to me?
I'm damaged, as I'm sure you know
There's mending for my soul
An ending to this fear
Forgiveness for a man who was stronger
I was just a little girl, but I can't go back
....you can't do anything. Thanks though. He's out there, somewhere. She's watching over me, somehow. I'm right where I'm supposed to be, or I wouldn't be.
"I thought you were special....I thought you should know, that I've run out of patience. I couldn't care less."
-Special by Garbage.
LIFE FOR RENT - DIDO
I haven'?t ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologise that once again I'?m not in love
But it'?s not as if I mind that your heart aint exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
And if my life is for rent and I don'?t learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
I'?ve always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what'?s happened to that dream
Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
And if my life is for rent and I don'?t learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
While my heart is a shield and I won'?t let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won'?t even try
Well how can I say I'?m alive
If my life is for rent...?
Plumb - Damaged
Dreaming comes so easily
'Cause it's all that
I've known
True love is a fairy tale
I'm damaged, so how would I know
I'm scared and I'm alone
I'm ashamed
And I need for you to know
I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'Cause I feel you, I feel you near me
I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'Cause I feel you, I feel you near me
Healing
comes so painfully
And it chills to the bone
Will anyone get close to me?
I'm damaged, as I'm sure you know
There's mending for my soul
An ending to this fear
Forgiveness for a man who was stronger
I was just a little girl, but I can't go back
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Remember Me
I must make the next shifting event of my life.
I am not sure I'm strong enough....
I am not sure I want to...
I am annoyed that I am writing like this.
I feel there are more important things.
I am not sure I'm strong enough....
I am not sure I want to...
I am annoyed that I am writing like this.
I feel there are more important things.
Personal Training
Personal responsibility is a building block to prevent societal tragedies. When the construction is left in the hands of the unskilled.... (insert disaster here)
Blame being an exercise in intellectual masturbation, I'll add my nickels and dimes and say that the skills are taught and that the student is only as good as the teacher. Yes, there are rebellious students. But a rebel is born of some misdeed. Learning all the time.
If I'm hard on others... I'm just as hard on myself.
I am never hard enough.
I do not wish to rebel on myself again.
Blame being an exercise in intellectual masturbation, I'll add my nickels and dimes and say that the skills are taught and that the student is only as good as the teacher. Yes, there are rebellious students. But a rebel is born of some misdeed. Learning all the time.
If I'm hard on others... I'm just as hard on myself.
I am never hard enough.
I do not wish to rebel on myself again.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Planetude
A glass princess took her shards of tears and tossed them off the balcony. The light from the purple sun glimmered in brilliant sparkles as they made their way toward the red rocks below. All the crying shadows stopped their wailing at once as the glimmers turned to fiery crystals and painted the rocks that they landed on. As if foretold, the shadows evaporated into the sun. Purple folded inward and indigo faded out.
And though the shards were gone, her eyes still bled.
And though the shards were gone, her eyes still bled.
Random Writes
I slept for six hours straight last night. The night before I was bit by something on my arms. I saw Superman Returns last night and I liked it. I updated the style of randycardwell.blogspot.com and that gave me something to focus on this morning. I'm trying to decide what to do today and this evening. I never responded to Alex yesterday. I got a raise at my boring job. I should turn the laptop off soon because it's warm. I had a dream about Randy and his family and they moved him out of the ICU into something else because of the construction that was going on. I'm very vague on the specifics so I'll stop typing about it. I should eat soon. I think somehow I've engaged auto-pilot out of a survival instinct.
