long time no blog

they know more than they want to share

I prepare so carefully my defenses
make up walls, barriers, turn to stone for them
so they don't have to know

but they aren't playing offense these days
they gave up, they aren't intimidated by stony things anyways
they're tougher than I am anyways, when it counts

so I'm stuck being hard to them
and they are so malleable that my stone won't hurt them
and they are barely aware that their ignorance is breaking me

they neglect to acknowledge my dirty secrets
maybe they know that my secrets will grow from the inside out
breaking my own defenses, the ones I worked so hard on
chipping away at my barriers
escape is not imminent
but it's coming

they're ready

Hike ew

sex in a bottle
unleash that emotion!
sex in a greenhouse

It's official, I am a songwriter.

I wrote a song yesterday. C'est tres simple.


How, can I not think about you every 2nd second
You say you want me, you say you need me, but you don't love me
and I think about you all day,
I think about the way
you said to me
How, can I not think about you every 2nd second



My next one is going to be about how I want a long-board, rap music and lemon thyme.
Maybe to the same tune?

Phat Doobs

Smash my head into a bench, I swear that it won't hurt
Go off with my best friend, your hands all up her shirt

I'll just lie here on the ground, blood seeping from my noggin
While you two peace out, 'getting a room' to do some snoggin'

God you're such a bitch some times, violent and hard
When you locked me out of your house last night, I slept in your backyard

I'm tired of all this shit, your blunt hypocrisies
Whispered 'I love you's, major trust issues, your lack of sensitivity

This poem is a little 'fuck you'- I know I might seem mad
I'm not crazy, I'm just angry, you're such a messed up lad

I've gotten a cold now, thanks so much, from sleeping in the wet grass
I can't even call my best friend, I know I'll just sound crass

Maybe there's an explanation for it , I know I bumped my head
But it doesn't explain the rumors, that she gave you 'fucking great' head

At least it wasn't full blown sex, I'd fear she'd get an STI
I'm glad to now call you my ex, you sleazy, dirtbag guy.

yo yo

How many legs on two caterpillar?
Morph into butterflies, that'd be killer
Micheal jackson made a song: Thriller
Knew a guy called Ian, last name Miller.
Those last two lines there, they was just filler.
(Gave them time to metamorphosize)
Turn from wormy worms, into sweet butterflies

"Wouldn't that be a horrible way to die, don't you think?"

I just thought that since Tansley has not been commenting on my blogs lately, I'd put up a picture of her boyfriend. So she can ogle him and find his picture here whenever she wants to see him.

"stop smiling"

bottom lip
top lip
hips legs
feet

hands
eyes
smiles

simple sensations
complex ideas

repeat
repeat
repeat

what an ugly thought sequence

I did not think
that those three words
would ever be ones I would want
not to be said

It felt like blasphemy
although I know better than to throw that term around

the constriction in my chest
told me secrets I didn't want to acknowledge

perhaps I am just
having delusions of persecution

and I know I dreamed I could not be kissed hard enough

but whenever I hear Regina Spektor say in her song Fidelity
"kissed me so sweet, and so soft"
I wish he was not so aggressive in his kisses

I built some speed bumps
he goes over them full speed
I throw road blocks
and he is temporarily subdued

but it won't last
he will go off-roading soon enough
I'll join him

cocoa

wet hair
clean fingernails
skin skin skin
tiptoe around
separate yourself from your posessions
sit down for a while
feel pure

strum a few strings
cross your legs
be silent
smile at your self
have some water
water the plants

be pleased with the sunlight
exist without alienation
let go of conscious consciousness

and forget for a while longer

Help a brotha out

A funny [not haha] poem that kind of rhymes but with bad rhythm and repeating rhymes, which doesn't make a LOT of sense. But I felt like blogging and it popped out.

When I meandered on tip toe

Threw gardens I didn’t know

Picking raspberries right from the bush

Getting out of there in a rush

The neighbors decided they

Didn’t like me, sent me away

But I loved the berries far too much

So I came back to pick in a rush

The problems they all got solved

When my mother smartly resolved

To plant a bush for only me

Right beside our apple tree

I could eat berries all the day

Until about the 11^th of may

When I will go to bars instead

Of picking raspberries behind the shed.

week ends

For a while, I turned into
ghosts and scarves and mirrors

a ghost of myself, who has forgotten my past
who slides in and out of rooms, uncaring:
scaring people, who don't believe in me
with a persisting, tugging yearn for flesh and bones
to be held, even though my synapses don't fire
and I can't even comprehend I am ethereal

I would fall inside of you before you could hold me

A scarf tied around a boys head
or a pretty girls waist
just tied up in knots
or sometimes flowing
blowing in the spring wind, up into atmosphere too thin to breathe
a ghost could dance with me up there

It's too bad, the only ghost I know, is me

Mirrors, plural
reflecting each other, cascades of repetition
into infinity
mirror, singular but never alone
you can stare into me, and always find something, always see a reflection of yourself
I'll smile when you smile, I'll frown when you frown
there is nothing more than that. I'm not going to lie to you
but I won't tell you anything you don't already know
I won't protect you from your imperfections
I will throw them back at you, it's simply what I do.
For your own good, don't try to break me.

You've had enough bad luck with me these days.

Be-bop. And Rocksteady.

I wonder what blind people think about the concept of reflections.

If I wrote a book it would go like this

A worm caught in a birds mouth
about to be devoured, maybe alive
nothing to do but paint it out, wait it out
and stay away from the dreaded telephone
it's so much easier to picture you in my head when you're not sitting beside me
I would swoon but swooning is overrated

***
'we had something good' he said.
he was fucking drunk.
for a second I felt a little bit special, and when that was taken away everything hurt a bit more

'fuck you', i said on another occasion, to another someone
my mouth has become dirtier by the week and may get worse still

***
I dreamed a few night ago of Andrew Keith- we were at a party sitting on a bunk bed talking about the stars and the moon eclipsing. His hair was not dreaded but braided instead.

Last night I dreamed about a boy. It was actually the boy I said fuck you to, as stated earlier. In the dream I climbed up onto him and said "I think you are very good looking and I want to kiss you." I then he kissed me, but very very slowly (how I thought I would like to kiss him) and I found myself impatient with his slowness, and I couldn't kiss him back.

Unreal

Sitting in a waiting room
Occasionally holding hands
Because blood work is scary
I will watch you leave with the nurse
And once you’re out of sight
Let out the shivers that have been building

I’ll creep out of the plastic plant, library-quiet, color-neutral, blank room
Into the street, the street which is always awake
For a cigarette
Get lost for a while in the smoke,
With thoughts of cancer cells, timelessness,
Calmness and old souls
Wondering if the smoke smell permeates my jacket
And where the molecules I exhale will diffuse to
Antarctica maybe

I’ll go back into the warmth
To fidget, to wait
When you come out, white-faced
I’ll feel toxic with my thoughts of medicine and sickness

The last time I felt this polluted was not too long ago
In a white-washed house where there were too many people

All I wanted was to grab your hand
Lead you out of the room like a child
To somewhere quieter, to spoon and whisper and eventually sleep
I’ve been growing up lately, I feel very old

I lost track of you at some point. I kept my head down for too long
And you drifted away without a thought of goodbye
Probably not thinking at all
I woke up later
Tangled in the gauze of a canopy
With a similar gauzy-white feeling in my head
In cold sheets, by myself

I had to get out of there
Walk around, ballroom dance with the fresh air
In ballet shoes, maybe on the roof
So I crept away, from that room where I didn’t realize I had been waiting,
Even in my sleep
Always waiting

Dancing away the blues, the whites, the grays
With stolen sunglasses in the silent dark
Eyes shaded from the cold, eclipsing moon
Just a blank mind
In a blank world

I wonder if you can hear the pitter patter of my feet on the roof
Or if I am dancing on air
It’s hard to say

I don’t believe in heaven
But I believe in dreaming
And sometimes I dream that my soul escapes me for brief moments
It feels like I am dancing on air
Above me and also in me
This is what heaven would feel like

I am not afraid of my death, just yours.

afternizzle.

put a red bow in my hair
put black paint on my hand
put a pink pillow on my bed
put the stench of incense in my nostrils
admire my lucidity
despise most everything else.

The dude.

Inebriated, I left myself this to find in the morning.

How poignant. How very Rebecca of me.

I had Chinese and found this, in a cookie.

She was a Vinyl Virgin until Valentine's Day.

Random girl at the bar: You guys gonna hook up?
Rebecca: Probably.

Don't worry, we didn't.

Repress don't regress

Maybe, the reason I don't have relationships is that I am too afraid I will be abusive.

Do you feel like you're pouting a lot? Yes, because I am.

do we cry because we feel sad
or do we feel sad because we cry?


though watery eyes
the world is still the world

Haiku for Brandon

I noticed today
Mr. brown is hollowed out
Floating to the sky

Louder than bombs

You are the only good person
because you are not here
Brandon Brown(e).

Feel good while you can babe, it's just phases of the moon.

I was pushing my hair back and I guess I breathed deeply and smelled my hand. It smelled like a boy I used to kiss, back when I did that a few times.

Inventory

My new favorite tea is Earl Gray. I can't stop drinking it.
The good thing about the dentist is when the dental assistant is nice and says you have white teeth and no cavities. And you get to bring home a new toothbrush.

I started to clean out my closet today. Literally. I am getting rid of all of my high school work. I shouldn't have kept it but I did because I am a pack rat. Also in the closet is my elementary school work. I think I may get rid of that as well but I will consult with my parents first.
I just have way too much junk. I keep every little piece of paper that has a 'line' one it. By line I mean something poetic I thought of but didn't use in a piece of writing. I also have all sorts of drafts and such, scribbled. And several computer word documents full of 'lines' and drafts. It's just overwhelming.
And that's just the words. I have things.

I have a box of knick knacks. Little toys from Ruckers... weird things I found on the street etc.
And in my art room I have 4 drawers of fabric, one of magazines/art school catalogues, and a few of art supplies.
I have a closet full of art. All of my high school projects, plus tons of crappy unfinished stuff that I think I might use some day, tons of crappy finished stuff, some good stuff. Also in that closet I have a broken t.v.
In my other closet I have stuffed animals and beanie babies, and all of my books from my childhood. Both of these closets also have pants in them. Probably... 13 pairs of pants.

I don't know what to think about this stuff. I guess a lot of it is normal. Closets need to be used for something. Maybe I keep all of these things because I can. I have two closets- 3 counting the one in my brother's old room (now my art room). I want to pack it up and throw it in the garage, where one day it will get water damage and I will be sad but not really because I didn't need it anyways. But I don't have a garage.

I just think about the day I move out and wondering how much of this stuff I will take with me. How much I will actually spatially have room for? How much of it can I justify needing to bring with me?
I could never be a minimalist but I want to cut down on my possessions. It's hard to know where to start. I resent people that care too much for material goods, but how hypocritical is that of me? I know I care, but do I care too much? What does it mean that I'm unable to let go?

-RJZ

Jenny was sitting in her room.

Last night I dreamed that Paul came home. I was so so so happy. It surprised my awake self, how happy I was.
I also dreamed of a man's face, it flashed once to my left, once to my right and then I audibly said "what" and started awake.

I heart my parents

I wouldn't eat another primate
or a prime ape
I like soy beverage with chocolate flavoring
And I can see a bible and a Neil young c.d from where I am sitting
Sometimes when you just confront a problem it makes it better. Like when I say to my dad
I'M LEAVING BECAUSE I CAN'T SEEM TO BE AROUND YOU WITHOUT GETTING MAD AT YOU and he laughs and says 'I guess so.' And I kind of laugh to.
I don't know how I will ever live with someone. They don't know that any soft drink in the house is mine to drink. And I wear my pajamas sometimes for 48 hours. And I yell a lot. I am also rhetorical and have my own crazy sense of humor and will chatter at you all through the grocery store and when I ask you philosophical questions out of no where I expect you to be serious and I will tell you tidbits I learn in university ALL THE TIME and I almost always have music playing.
beware future roommate.

Don't Mind

I think God fell from the sky last night
in the form of countless tiny particles of snow
I woke up and my first thought was that the sound of the wind
was the sound of something else
something haunting, shivering, ethereal

I call today a 'white out'
God as a blanket
blank mind, I'm starting over

New Years

The beginning of the end
was punctuated
by my lips on his cheek
cracked lips, sandpaper face
on tip toe I could barely reach him

He saved me from someone
Who, minutes earlier I had proclaimed that I did not love
Words which surprised me when they came out

When it was time for me to leave
He hugged me like I meant something
A hug I will remember
The end of the beginning