January 2008

Somehow this is new I don't see and change crystalized memories frost the car and a fresh 8 will not change the sweaty smile the beating heart will not silence that racing mind and chiming thoughts wondering containment and how best to pry.  Something real and somehow I must change shag my hair sparkle my moth but the surgery affecting my spine aligned  me with thoughts and words different changing from liquid to rigid. So this is the new year and I don't feel any different the clanking of crystal explosions off in the distance exploit my will like the snowman you left me for spark into a better way a life of dancing and never showering of joyful music and a free spirit everything ever dreamed will happen he will fade and then summer glee will arrive with water ballons hitting the straw and grass with the glorious sky above and then sink into ease and transformed back into a dancer. You were lost for a while, morphed by a forced metal bar from the loose formation into an actor. Return to the beginning, let your limbs fly to gypsy music and wear your fathers Grateful Dead shirt givin after his cycle of youth competed, explore the homes that were out of reach and then find that little place that was chiming the who time not to rationalize and just leap.  The year escalades into the las months where piles of phone hours from stories everything races fleeing flying faster then you hands can grace and wait but too late too late now she sleeps the sleep of death from which there is no waking.  Suddenly January is here and what have you to show the same pebble where you were last year recovering and saying that you have a resolution of change and an escape plan that will outlast the wittiest wills and now it's January and everything is fresh but the memories and touches still remain like the oils of there fingerprints grey smudges upon your brain and suddenly you realize that it is the same again. 

Maybe It's the Cigarette

guess who inspires me?

My Hair Hasn't Been Washed In Three Days [October]

bouncy

springing through the green

tracing the grass with my fingers

prickly and titillating

mmmmmmmmmm

your absurd hair

(for i call it what it is)

up down, up down

and feet that elevate

that extra centimeter with every step

tiny bounds

we must hurry

i'm aware

don't bounce off into a photo

step from the freshness to a screen

i'm still green

don't cut your hair

And You Know My Wishes Are Sincere...

So with exams this week I completely forgot to mention that the new Beirut album, March of the Zapotec and Realpeople,  came out on Tuesday!  All hail Zach Condon, maker of some of the most inspired gypsy music my ears have ever heard!

I Eat Ice Out of Glasses Meant for Alcohol

Can I melt, dissolve, reappear?

Tell me

Can I change so much, grow from my little girl

Move up and not care and be free?

Will this move me?

Shut up. 

I like eating ice, do you?

Then you can't talk properly

Oh. Oh. Right

I found someone who uses punctuation

And dances with me

Who made me breathe the air

Forced out of blankets and into the wilderness

Guess what I discovered?

grace

The Seasons Have Changed From the Present to Past

My dear friend Sam is graduating High School early to go backpacking. I will miss his presence greatly, as I feel that he has made a positive impact like a meteor directed at my heart. The first time I hung out with him we went to the Audubon on the last blissfully warm day of fall (pictured). 

I was listening to "the Park" by Feist today, and it reminded me of this experience. 

Why would he come back through the park?

You thought that you saw him, but no, you did not

It's not him coming across the sea to surprise you

Not he who would know where in London to find you

A sadness so real

That it populates

The city and leaves you homeless again

Steam from a cup and snow on the path

The seasons have changed from the present to past

There's hope to have

The past

Why would he come back through the park

You thought that you saw him, but no, you did not

Who can be sure of anything through

The distance that keeps you from knowing the truth

Why would you think, the boy would become

The man who could make you sure he was the one

the one

my one

my one...

Is It the Stage I want?

12:51 is officially under my skin. In the immortal words of none other then Kanye West,  - "Ah, man, I love this song so much":

Talk to me now Im older

Your friend told you cause I told her

Friday nights have been lonely

Change your plans and then phone me

We could go and get 40s

Fuck goin to that party

O really your folks are away now?

Alright, lets go, you've convinced me

12:51 is the time my voice

Found the words I sought

Is it the stage I want?

The world is shutting out... for us

Oh were were tense for sure

But we was confident

Kiss me now that Im older

I won't try to control ya

Friday nights have been lonely

Take it slow but don't warn me

We'd go out and get 40's

Then we'd go to some party

Oh really your folks are away now

Alright Im comin...

Ill be right there

Something about the beat and rifts take me to a land of teenage parting, love, staying up late, sneaking out, gossip, and bliss

Ouvrir la porte

I consider my self somewhat existentialist, seeing as I believe in one key idea:

The only way to create meaning in life is through choices. 

Lately I've been trying to follow this - being spontanious, even somewhat reckless, shaking up my life a bit in an attempt to open up the door  to excitement and newness.  

Basically, I want to do what we all want to do - truly find ourselves.  Here are my multiple personalities:

Hippy - I love spending time outdoors, hiking, exploring - it all is so freeing.  I love all nighters, I listen to the Grateful Dead, Phish, etc., and yes, I signed up for World Drumming next year.  I have inscence, and I love not showering - and Smartwool socks make me really, really happy. 

Prep - I love being smart and insainly organized, going to the club, riding in Audis.  I live in a wealthy neighborhood, and sometimes I wish I could wear Lacoste polo shirts and Ked

s forever. 

Art Kid - I adore acting, scetching, playing piano, making poetry, and hanging out with people who I can discuss art with. My favorite place to eat lunch is the art room, and the purid stench of paint and ink makes me happy.  

Braniac - I slave over homework and books.  ugh. 

Fashonista - Well, yes, I could shop all day.  Online, in boutiques, malls, everywhere. I follow fashion blogs and spend an unhealthy amount of time poured over magazines.  And I want to be Carrie Bradshaw. 

Classic Girl - I wear all black.  I aspire to be Coco Chanel. I'm a sucker for antiques and gold. 

Dancer - I will dance to anything.  Anything. 

Music Lover/Groupie - mmmm concerts. The inner Cool Kid sometimes comes out and there I am having an intense discussion about minute details regarding the singer. 

So I need to unite all these personalities and open to door to myself. 

Nalgenes

Alright, so nowadays we are all greenifying ourselves.  Practices that I have held for years are now all of a sudden "in", and thus I'm no longer the environmental geek.

One of my favorite green itms: the Nalgene. Mine have traveled the world with me (my trusty purple one, pictured, was my best friend in Italy).  I have many of various shapes and colors, yet they NEVER BREAK.  My brother and his friends attempted to destroy one once and it went down like this:

run over with a car - fail

sawed with a chainsaw - fail

put in a bonfire - fail

wacked with hammers - fail

melted with a saudering gun meant for silversmithing - small progress

More frequently though I see people toting Siggs. News: Siggs dent. And you cannot see how many liters you have consumed.  Or if there is something weird in your water.  And they are destructible. weak sauce. 

 And I don't care if you can get one that says "make love not landfills" and pose as a hippy.  And I don't care if you can get a limited edition one designed by Zach Posen and pose as a fashonista. 

Because I will always be loyal to my Nalgene.  It will never die in my heart. Or literally.  Cause it's indestructible. 

First Post

Its. 11:39 on Wednesday.  

I have no school tomorrow because I live in Milwaukee, and it will be

 -30 degrees

So I'm listening to jazz music.