i don’t feel like writing. sorry if this sounds forced, it is. i’m glad you aren’t here. if anything could make me feel better right now, it is the knowledge that you are some place different. not here. i was allowed a spell of hope today



she talked about making things
the capacity to do so excites me
a much desired and crucial emotion
all day i’d dreamt of living
all my life i’ve dreamt of sleep
after run-ins with boring georges
and having tried very hard to stay awake
i’m very frightened
very frightened
of where, and who i think i am
we all threw bottles off of balconies
i didn’t actually
just watched people stumble dangerously
close to the edges of the roof


[i especially don’t feel like writing any sort of poem. they don’t feel like they mean anything. this is such a terrible place right now. why have so many awful and weird things happened in such a short span of time.]

i crawled in bed to tell her about my horrible evening
wondered if she was still awake
so i asked
what do you do when you feel pointless
she said it’s not in my skin to feel that way
i said that must be nice

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i am very very glad you aren’t here. i wish i weren’t here too. tonight i was about to get a burrito, but had to finish my cigarette, so i stood outside the establishment watching people. a young man and women talked past, and i heard him say, “wait- .. whatz yer name again?” and she said, “mIshELLE.” they laughed and walked inside. i decided not to get a burrito.


instead i’m eating this very salty tomato and bean stew i made. and surprisingly, the fact that it is so immensely salty had become quite the distraction for me. which is both good and bad. bad because it’s not very tasty, and good because i keep thinking about how it isn’t that tasty, as opposed to so many other things i’ve been dwelling upon.

i’m still feeling rather hopeful after talking about art. the fact that i can anticipate something in the future is stirring. i can anticipate not living here and not feeling so immensely empty. i’ll have to leave in august. so i suppose i should figure out where i’m going exactly. i would rather feel lonely because i don’t know anyone, instead of lonely present, strange alternate form of loneliness. i do feel hopeful. i do. i don’t want to be living where i’m living now. it’s not good anymore. it’s lost its luster. especially after last night. i only partially understood the negative vibe that came from the apartment next door, but now that vibe has taken on a full-blown, completely new meaning. i’m a very temporary person when it comes to most things. especially living places. i like seeing things as temporary, and when they carry on for too long i get very glum. very down in the cerebral mouth. for instance, my working at local pizza place for so long makes me sad. i begin to feel very stuck, very trapped. i feel this way a great deal lately. i’d like to live in hotels. i’d like to be somewhere else entirely. i just feel very sad about the whole ordeal of life right now. and pathetic about now being quite capable of dealing with anything as of yet. sometimes all i have that’s true is sound. sometimes all i have that’s true is sound. so exhausted by existence. i hate it when nothing seems right or nice. i thought to myself, “when it’s warm, when it’s warm outside i won’t have a thing to be upset over. everything will become straightened out and aligned on top of the table. life will be good. i will be good.” why do live like this. someone please.

i’ll anticipate the days when i will have canvass strewn about the place. empty film boxes lying about. pencils and paper and paints and books and notebooks and brushes and windows open the sun shines in and the cat is asleep on the couch while i listen to the stereo and something splendid is playing. something new i just got a hold of. the air is fresh and nice. i don’t smoke as much. i drink more water, because i’ve never drank enough water. i should do that. i know only the good and the helpful loving people. we go to the beach or the park or the whateverthefuck. and we make sincere plans to do great things. i’m awake during the day. having taken it upon myself to do all the things i promised myself i would learn how to do. because i want to and i don’t care. i’m not as insecure. i’m still genuine. i’m honest, a little more tactful. i’ve managed to afford a video camera. i spend days making lots of films, most of the time completely about nothing, but the process makes it completely worth it regardless. i accomplished things, solely for my own pleasure. the trees are green in summer, explode in colors for autumn, in winter they are bare and it is white and pure and cold and i can see my breath pass through a scarf, come spring they bud and everything is reborn and lovely. i anticipate it happening all over again. and i still love.


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