I Hate Anyone Who Claims to Love Me

I will address the problems that I cannot ignore.
And I will be alone probably the rest of my life.

I realised that the other night. I was laying in my bed, arms all smooth with wrists and sweet half-pale moon coming in through that window, just in a swirling little state of waking and loving the lights now, and it hit me like an illness that's been there all along: I will be alone probably the rest of my life. 

Had a dream the other night
and I entered through the wrong side of the church
Saw my father standing across from me
Looked down, in my big white dress
In a big brown arena
And the 20 or so of you
who claimed to love me
you don't.
So I walk behind
and I came around
and I did what was right.
I didn't steal like I do now here in my real life
I steal anything.
And what happened
only that he walked with me, his arm around mine,
and that's lovely.
I was almost to the altar,
to meet nobody,
the Love of my Life,

and there you were.
Bianca only winks when she feels sorry for you.
I don't feel sorry for you.
I just want to hold you.
But I also want you to never see me again.
Because I drink too much too many times
Because I'd do it all
I'd do them all
I let them put their hands all over me
And I smile at the ones on my friends
the music is even blurry
the people are wearing bandages over their heads, they ride bikes in the night, I yell
at them.
I let them kiss me.
All of them.
I would.
I would.
I could.
But nobody stays with me,
because they've all gotten bored.
And I fuck up everyone I meet.
They leave a worse person than before.
So I like to have you in my dreams,
though it makes me miss you when I'm awake,
but you know, there's two things that keep me sane
Besides not eating
and Not thinking
and if you didn't figure the
first one by now, you're
so precious to me.
But here's the real one:

I'd never let you kiss me like that.
Like that night.

..................................

Yea, so I hate anyone who claims to love me. Because no one has loved me proper in this lifetime. All the people who think they love me, they're wrong. I have the potential to be the happiest human being alive, and I know it so well. I know it too well. I could be happier than all these people, but I choose to walk fast and keep quiet and not know what I'm doing with my life. I don't care; I scare. You left, love, so it's time to be alone now. I haven't truly been alone in a while, and it's coming back to me now. How it feels to read Shakespeare on a Wednesday midnight, Way to Normal for the neighbors, feeling nice, sharing it with Capri. Now what, I say? I saw more. I never thought I'd be the person I am now, and that's bad. I want to earn a bit of money, move to San Francisco, and lay in the grass all day with funny-looking punk people who smoke weed. That'd be lovely. But instead, I go to a school where nobody could ever love me, I go to classes that I love, but I can't talk, I lost it, I go to parties and I don't meet anyone, I just drink too much and end up crying my eyes black and muddy. That's the life I chose, but I'm choosing a new one. Goodbye, fucking prep life. I don't want you anymore. I'm bored with everything, and I don't want to have sex. I just want to have new experiences.

Lined Eyes

When I hear the ambulance 

now

I wish it was coming for me.

Mine Mine I Want

Please respect the candles as they lie.

Here's a novel thought: Don't give a fuck! I love that. At any moment, I can just stop giving a fuck. There's a lot I want to do that's not permissible. I know what I want for my birthday now. A puppy. It's like a baby, but for younger people. Yup, I want a puppy. That is all. What else. I wish I had my Holga with me. Other than that, I'm doing "fine", ignoring my problems and just living it out until May 10. I can handle it. I don't mind it. I just wish I could surround myself with better people. My friends here are all right but not the best. I'm trying to focus less on them and more on me, though. I can't control who they are, but I know I want to be a good person. I deviate from this at times, yea, but I want it. I want to be good to people, but not a door mat. I want to spread joy, like that guy that gave me a cookie at the bloodbank today. Maybe that's why I impulsively donated blood today. I just wanted to do something good, do what I felt, not stopped and said, "But..." I catch myself doing that a lot. I have so much social anxiety, but it's fine. It makes me cute. I don't know if anybody will ever be able to love me the way I'm meant to be loved, and if not, fine. I still have myself, and I'm wonderful. If I lost that, that'd be the problem. As for men? You can have them. They're nice to look at, but they cause me too much trouble. For now I have to focus on myself. Sorry. Thanks. Great.

And If I

We had the good things then but those just never seem to last.
Oh please, just--last. 

Please just last. So many people and places I'd like to say that to. This one now? Not quite. I will just shut it off, that sink, off, until a month. Less than a month and I'll be gone? I can hardly believe it. I loved it here, so what changed? I remember smiling so big and saying, "Yes, yes, it's so nice!" Now I can only mumble, "Yeah, it's all right." What changed? Happiness just isn't my shade, but it's all right. I'd like to stop talking about myself. I'd like to be quiet and to care very deeply. That's what I cling to in the times when I have absolutely nobody--to myself. It's the last shred of hope I have. I've lost my taste to care about a lot. Do I care? I guess I just like to shove it down there and not give it names. As soon as I do, as soon as I identify a face of the enemy, it all comes undone. It's better to just call them beasts, to be intensely unhappy and wildly poetic, to enjoy good music and sit alone in the sunshine.

Hypocrisy Sometimes

Courage, teach me to be shy.

I want to be back in that sleepless night, with the rain pecking softly at my window. Back there, when the soft glow of the light above my head lit up my solitude. Alone. Lovely, perfect.

But that's not true, and I know it.

I'd rather be on your balcony, freezing fingers, cold toes, singing songs to each other. I felt so old and wise, when I'd only known you for half a year. How badly I wanted to lean over from behind my guitar, across yours, and kiss your mouth that I'd never kissed. That's all I could think of, was kissing you. When you sang, I couldn't see your face because it was so dark. No light, just the stars. Just the cold, timid November air. You were perfect, did you know that? Yes, you let me down eventually, but you did it in the best way possible. You're a good person, and I hope I have the privilege of knowing you one day in the distant future. You're lovely.

But you're gone. You don't have to say it, because I can feel it and I know it. It's all right, love. They all go in the end, and I'm glad I could have you when I did. 

Now it's me. That's all. I'm left with me, and I'm glad to have me. I'll mourn not having you around as much, but I've got to figure some things out. The spring-to-summer air is clearing or ruining my head I think. What'll I do. I'm stuck in this perpetually lovely, confusing, confused, complex little soul of mine. Dear lord. We all have one, but I plan to hold onto mine. No one can belong to me. I never understood you...

So since I seem to love lists, I'll make one.

1) Write letter to George. 

2) Write letter to Robin.

3) Have a pointe shoe photo session in Austin with Robby.

4) Bike down to the canoe place by myself and go canoeing and drawing. And with Robby.

5) Stay in that Austin motel on SoCo.

6) Go to that bench on Edison.

7) Run again.

8) Don't go on my laptop all summer. [HARD]

9) Bring my guitar random places and SING.

10) Play the guitar in Costco and sing.

11) Busk in South Quad with Robby one day.

12) Photography again! Lomography! Figure out that dang Holga.

13) Learn to longboard.

14) Dye my hair black and red.

15) Nose stud.

16) Tattoo.

Yup! I'm so excited for Robby Baby to come visit me in Austin. Seriously. Best place on Earth.

WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO SAY.

I just hope I can remember this. I'm so inconsistent. I find that I can never focus on anything too long. I go through phases: one month I'll love ballet, then maybe soccer, then running, then singing, then, who knows, fishing? I can't even consistently love my friends or family. Phases phases phases. No constants. I have no motivation. The only thing I truly have a passion for is living life. And maybe music. Lovely, lovely music. [I think lovely is one of my favourite words.] I just want tomorrow to be over, now. I don't want to present, I don't want to try and control a bunch of little kids, I don't want to ride the bus to their school by myself. I just want to go back home to Austin and start my summer, now. Sexy can I? Why not? Myyyy life. 

Starlight. I love that word, too. Starlight and summertime. Summertime starlight. NOICE.

Nevermore

I didn't marry the girl I love.

Friends are a horrible thing. Before Zach, I had Jenna. I love to have Jenna as a friend because we can talk and have fun and she challenges me, but I don't have to tell her everything. And I don't mean "everything" like those things that actually happened: I mean the inner-thoughts. Those are sacred, and you spill them, they evaporate. Blood loss, no type to match. So it's time to stop sharing with the class, Bianca. It doesn't deepen my friendships to say these things, it only makes me lose myself. I'm not losing myself in another person, but rather there is an eminent erasure. Gone, forever. The chemicals are wearing off. I tried having a true best friend, but it doesn't work for me. I think I'm one of those people who needs to be alone forever. If I got married, if I fell in love again, I'd want to share myself with that person, but they just couldn't get it. Understanding someone isn't something that you can do to me, it has to be in your being. You just are that understanding. I am finding slowly that nobody can be that for me. Only I can. I'm not saying I don't want to be cute with other guys. I want to hold hands and kiss and cuddle, but I don't want to share myself. I love myself, and I want to find out just what it is I am loving. Before someone tries to do that for me. It just amazes me that even the people I am closest to, the ones I've been with for 1, 5, 10, 19 years... They don't even go a bit beneath the surface. They can try, with me as their guide, but it just is impossible. And I don't feel sad about it. I'm excited to be alone, and I'm terribly afraid. At least in the past, solitude never frightened me. What happened this summer?

HERE IT IS Guitar

In Ear Park?

So this is Christmas.

There was a time when a dusty window's ledge covered in moonlight and warm April air was sweet, and it was life. When the sound of "B-B-Benny" through a midnight suburban street was a rebellion. And then you had to come along, with your crawfish that chased toes and your abandoned house, with your problems and your inside jokes, and you had to raise me up so high just to let that chair loose from beneath my feet. And there wasn't even a noose; that is the worst. So I fall. Every little part of the world was different before I met you, do you know that? It could be hard to believe. The part I miss the most, though, is me. Can you remember me? I really was extraordinary. I was special. Let me say, that is the hardest thing to be. We are told that we are so special, but the truth is that "special" is a greatness that we achieve. It was me that brought you forth from the crowd. Now what is this animal sitting here, with these little fingers, untouched for months, that type away so carelessly? But it's not careless. It was, once. Once, when Bukowski drenched from the corners of my lobes, when Eliot was out of reach, when Andre brought me to mirrors, when I could understand myself. I hated it all, but don't you remember how fascinating life was? Now it is a stupid thing I do. College is a stupid thing I do. I want to go to San Francisco and open all the windows of my apartment and look outside at a beach. I want to roll down a giant hill and stumble when I get up. Then it all changed. So I can't go back. There's only a few lessons I've picked up, but one of them is that history DOES NOT repeat itself. We are fools if we think it. Everything is different the next time. So I can't just play Way to Normal and open my window and expect a gush of openness to flood me. It's a new age (And It Is Hot?), and it calls for new procedures. That's the loveliness of it all. I can't get it here. I've also learned that it's better to have no friends than to have friends that make you dumber. I'd rather be alone. I won't start formulating plans, because I already know what I'm going to do. I am afraid of being alone again. It's a habit! I want to be alone and be who I was, but I enjoy leaving my house as well. I can finally find that balance now. Hardest thing to do. I am scared to death of starting from scratch, but I am not really. I have myself, always. Isn't that the funniest thing. There is only one thing I will always have as long as I'm on this Earth, and that's me. So I better learn to love it, whatever it is. Because Mom will die. Papi will die. All my friends will either die, or disappoint me, or grow bored of me. My dog will go. My children will find jobs and stay busy. But I am with me from the day I come into this life to the day I make my exit. That's the most comforting thing I know. Some people may say that it's a burden, to always have yourself around like a pest, but I think it's lovely. It gives me some time to work on me, to know me, to shape me. I am transient, yes. I want to get into more trouble than I do. To be more reckless. There is a person here, underneath these fingertips, and I love her. Yeah, okay. So she is shy and pathetic. So she barely ever accomplishes what she wants. But I love her because she's all I have. My little personality. It's all I have, all I can ever have. No more running from her. Love, love.

Impossible

Ask our neighbors.
I would know.

And then you walk outside the door and it's missing. The wind still lurks around. The clouds are still up there. What's gone? Or has something been added? A few Fahrenheits. Spring. Spring. FREEDOM!

It's almost summer. I will only wear a bikini for 3 months, and I'll only drive around and swim and laugh and eat good fast food. It's a law, a rule. I don't know where I want to go or what I want to do. What am I sure of?

I am sure:
-I find people endlessly interesting.
-I find this world endlessly frustrating.
-I am constantly changing, second to second.
-I am not that great.
-Pho tastes good.
-I want to be in Austin, TX right now.

There's nothing to know and no one to love. I just can't see myself ever being at peace. Maybe it won't happen for me. But if it doesn't, I would at least like to be not-at-peace in a cool way. Can I have that?