Nashville,
You send me cheesy love songs that you hear at work because they remind you of me. I don't like cheesy music, but I like when you send me these songs.
I should rid my life of the other lovers and just keep you.
But you are so far away. And we are too scared.
:(
Red
Friday, November 14, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Lady in the Dark
I wonder what makes songs sound pretty to people. Some songs are pretty to some people and some songs are pretty to other people. Like people for people. Some people are pretty to some people and some people are pretty to other people.
Is it just chemistry? Does chemistry work with songs too?
"I don't remember where all this was going
now that days get closer and we get farther apart
but its hard to wake from these beds we make
all on our own
its easier just to keep living in the dark."
--Patrick Park
Maybe its the swing in the rhythm, or the natural, dirty sound of his voice, the prominence of it amongst the rest of the recording, like red paint on a black canvas. I probably love it because of its natural, soulful feel, nothing artificial. Then there are the lyrics. Which speak to almost every part of my stir crazy life. And the words ring true as words I know Dean felt close to at the end of us.
Of course the record was given to me by him...one of the many remnants of him.
It is easy to live in the dark. I think I pick dark to light pretty often. I am doing that with Justin. My Nashville lover. I mean we look to each other with such hope, like we are truly connected on some level. And I suppose we are, but do we even really know each other and in reality would it ever really work? No. That is the answer, but it's easier to hold onto the lie then face the truth. That without holding on to the feelings we imagine we would be alone. Utterly.
So we live in the dark, across states that live as boundaries to protect our hearts from getting bruised.
Is it just chemistry? Does chemistry work with songs too?
"I don't remember where all this was going
now that days get closer and we get farther apart
but its hard to wake from these beds we make
all on our own
its easier just to keep living in the dark."
--Patrick Park
Maybe its the swing in the rhythm, or the natural, dirty sound of his voice, the prominence of it amongst the rest of the recording, like red paint on a black canvas. I probably love it because of its natural, soulful feel, nothing artificial. Then there are the lyrics. Which speak to almost every part of my stir crazy life. And the words ring true as words I know Dean felt close to at the end of us.
Of course the record was given to me by him...one of the many remnants of him.
It is easy to live in the dark. I think I pick dark to light pretty often. I am doing that with Justin. My Nashville lover. I mean we look to each other with such hope, like we are truly connected on some level. And I suppose we are, but do we even really know each other and in reality would it ever really work? No. That is the answer, but it's easier to hold onto the lie then face the truth. That without holding on to the feelings we imagine we would be alone. Utterly.
So we live in the dark, across states that live as boundaries to protect our hearts from getting bruised.
Lipstick Jungle....
Is being taken off the air!
Why do all things come to an end!!!!
Lordie. A show about powerful women and it can not last even two seasons....The strike last year was such a tease with these new shows they pulled out of the woodworks and are now swiping off the air.
Blasted Network Television.
NOW WHAT WILL I DVR TO DISTRACT ME.
May have to just pay attention to my actual life.
Why do all things come to an end!!!!
Lordie. A show about powerful women and it can not last even two seasons....The strike last year was such a tease with these new shows they pulled out of the woodworks and are now swiping off the air.
Blasted Network Television.
NOW WHAT WILL I DVR TO DISTRACT ME.
May have to just pay attention to my actual life.
Even Still, Even Now
Dear Dean,
Nicole thinks we should make a movie about our lives. She thinks we should make it even dirtier then our lives are. He said, she said, he fucked, she fucked, they fucked. Everyone fucked....over. She and I laugh about it, but its really not that funny.
We e mailed today. I mustered it up. I asked you how you were. I pretend not to care, but I do. You write back and the humour punches through and I am drawn in, even just the tiniest bit. And the conversation persists, even via e mail. I can tell you miss me too. We live with hatred on our faces and hearts off our sleeves for now, but I know deep down you care, I care.
And I can't wrap my head around how spiteful we both are. Spiteful is your word. I stole it.
When your mother came, it just did not feel right to spend all that time with her. So I ditched. I felt like fucking you over, cause you fucked me over. And I could not see past it. So I hurt you. I guess deep down I might have known what I was doing, no matter how much chatter I can do to talk myself out of it. I did not want to come through for you. You didn't come through for me and you turn at the switch of a light on the people you love most. So I tried it.
I still feel badly. She may have made you who you are, but she did not deserve to be played by default.
Oh well. It certainly cut you off didn't it. And then with one line, "how are you?" The can is opened, the curtain falls.
I never though my greatest effort would be put on pushing you away.
I wish I could trace our end back to the beginning and figure out where we lost our footing. Are you just the sociopath I have turned you into in my mind? Or is it normal? Are we just both at fault? Both just bad communicators who could not fight through the stubborness? I guess I will never know.
I do wonder when I will stop wondering.
It happened again. I dreamt about you while I was sleeping next to Andrew two nights ago. I mean, he does live as the perfect distraction, but I still dream about you when I am sleeping.
Not good dreams, don't get me wrong. But you are there. Even when I close my eyes.
Even Still, Even Now.
xx
D
Nicole thinks we should make a movie about our lives. She thinks we should make it even dirtier then our lives are. He said, she said, he fucked, she fucked, they fucked. Everyone fucked....over. She and I laugh about it, but its really not that funny.
We e mailed today. I mustered it up. I asked you how you were. I pretend not to care, but I do. You write back and the humour punches through and I am drawn in, even just the tiniest bit. And the conversation persists, even via e mail. I can tell you miss me too. We live with hatred on our faces and hearts off our sleeves for now, but I know deep down you care, I care.
And I can't wrap my head around how spiteful we both are. Spiteful is your word. I stole it.
When your mother came, it just did not feel right to spend all that time with her. So I ditched. I felt like fucking you over, cause you fucked me over. And I could not see past it. So I hurt you. I guess deep down I might have known what I was doing, no matter how much chatter I can do to talk myself out of it. I did not want to come through for you. You didn't come through for me and you turn at the switch of a light on the people you love most. So I tried it.
I still feel badly. She may have made you who you are, but she did not deserve to be played by default.
Oh well. It certainly cut you off didn't it. And then with one line, "how are you?" The can is opened, the curtain falls.
I never though my greatest effort would be put on pushing you away.
I wish I could trace our end back to the beginning and figure out where we lost our footing. Are you just the sociopath I have turned you into in my mind? Or is it normal? Are we just both at fault? Both just bad communicators who could not fight through the stubborness? I guess I will never know.
I do wonder when I will stop wondering.
It happened again. I dreamt about you while I was sleeping next to Andrew two nights ago. I mean, he does live as the perfect distraction, but I still dream about you when I am sleeping.
Not good dreams, don't get me wrong. But you are there. Even when I close my eyes.
Even Still, Even Now.
xx
D
Monday, November 10, 2008
Andrew, the neighbor lover who killed the bug....
Andrew, the neighbor, is also helping me kill you. Not literally of course. But he sure is helping me kill the memory.
Andrew does not just kill bugs.
He does not just walk my dog.
He does not just break into my apartment for me when I am locked out and my keys and dogs are locked in.
"You like the Avett Brothers?" he said.
"I didn't, but I do now, my ex got me into them," I replied. With the word ex, my mouth dried.
He could tell and said, "well, ex's are good for something aren't they?"
His eyes unlocked mine.
I guess so, I mean ex's are usually good for losing about 10 pounds, girl can't complain. But they leave more behind, music, books, boxers (you know the ones you adapt into your pajama pile and just ignore the fact that his body wore them once, or relish in it). Baggage claims worth of baggage.
And then someone unpacks it all. Eventually. Not necessarily a new love, sometimes just a friend, sometimes just a movie that makes you cry a little, or laugh a little. Sometimes a long walk.
Sometimes a neighbor.
Andrew loved me that night and a few nights post. He also saw me puke up all my happiness the night Obama made history (champagne, beer, wine, vodka: a sorry mix). He has a hole in his heart too. I can tell. He speaks of the perptrator sometimes. But mostly I speak of mine. He listens and then he holds me and loves me again.
Or puts the act on. It feels good, but it's not misleading.
Yes, it might get sticky. Scratch that. It WILL get sticky. But I don't care.
He is mending me a little every day.
Andrew does not just kill bugs.
He does not just walk my dog.
He does not just break into my apartment for me when I am locked out and my keys and dogs are locked in.
"You like the Avett Brothers?" he said.
"I didn't, but I do now, my ex got me into them," I replied. With the word ex, my mouth dried.
He could tell and said, "well, ex's are good for something aren't they?"
His eyes unlocked mine.
I guess so, I mean ex's are usually good for losing about 10 pounds, girl can't complain. But they leave more behind, music, books, boxers (you know the ones you adapt into your pajama pile and just ignore the fact that his body wore them once, or relish in it). Baggage claims worth of baggage.
And then someone unpacks it all. Eventually. Not necessarily a new love, sometimes just a friend, sometimes just a movie that makes you cry a little, or laugh a little. Sometimes a long walk.
Sometimes a neighbor.
Andrew loved me that night and a few nights post. He also saw me puke up all my happiness the night Obama made history (champagne, beer, wine, vodka: a sorry mix). He has a hole in his heart too. I can tell. He speaks of the perptrator sometimes. But mostly I speak of mine. He listens and then he holds me and loves me again.
Or puts the act on. It feels good, but it's not misleading.
Yes, it might get sticky. Scratch that. It WILL get sticky. But I don't care.
He is mending me a little every day.
A New Tattoo
I saw a picture of your new tattoo on someone else's facebook profile. It looks really good.
Why am I so addicted to someone so mean? Maybe because in pictures your bite doesn't look so brutal. Maybe because the memory I have is hazy. Maybe because through the dark your light still peaks through and I miss you.
Why in your photos on that bloody site do you have a picture of her and not of me? Why are you 30 going on 13?
I am sure you still remember us. Maybe just a picture left embedded in your mind and not on a social networking site.
I remember you. And I remember, or am reminded of, the pain and nausea I felt every time you did something to turn the knife.
But I also want to hug you.
Even though I have so many other people to hug, I still just want to hug you.
"hug" you.
Why am I so addicted to someone so mean? Maybe because in pictures your bite doesn't look so brutal. Maybe because the memory I have is hazy. Maybe because through the dark your light still peaks through and I miss you.
Why in your photos on that bloody site do you have a picture of her and not of me? Why are you 30 going on 13?
I am sure you still remember us. Maybe just a picture left embedded in your mind and not on a social networking site.
I remember you. And I remember, or am reminded of, the pain and nausea I felt every time you did something to turn the knife.
But I also want to hug you.
Even though I have so many other people to hug, I still just want to hug you.
"hug" you.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Never Again
In a way Obama's win will sheild the world from past experience. His win will change things for good. Even if it is just perspective. I walk the streets with a higher head and I know that there are others who have been lifted even higher out of their gutter. This alone will change our country forever. Equality, pride for those who never felt the right to feel it before.
For me, of course, bye bye to Bush and bye bye to high tax on the middle class makes me smile. The idea that Republicans will not dominate and that Democrats will, with notions of human equality, religion separate of state, womens rights, respect for those of all income brackets, and simply a stronger perception in the eyes of our neighboring countries is what made my decision for me.
But what moved me the most when I watched that Blue sign light up, with Barack's name flashing, was the thought that for 200 years Black people in this country have been persecuted, one way or another, persecuted, lowered, separated. And with each step they have fought for a difference, and changes have been made. This was the end though, this was the biggest change of all for the Black people of our country. Because it changed perspective entirely for all people watching.
This is what gave me hope, just to know, people have changed enough to open up to something new, surface and deep down.
Hooray for change.
For me, of course, bye bye to Bush and bye bye to high tax on the middle class makes me smile. The idea that Republicans will not dominate and that Democrats will, with notions of human equality, religion separate of state, womens rights, respect for those of all income brackets, and simply a stronger perception in the eyes of our neighboring countries is what made my decision for me.
But what moved me the most when I watched that Blue sign light up, with Barack's name flashing, was the thought that for 200 years Black people in this country have been persecuted, one way or another, persecuted, lowered, separated. And with each step they have fought for a difference, and changes have been made. This was the end though, this was the biggest change of all for the Black people of our country. Because it changed perspective entirely for all people watching.
This is what gave me hope, just to know, people have changed enough to open up to something new, surface and deep down.
Hooray for change.
Hey Babe.
My stomach still drops a little when I hear you say "hey babe." It's been years, but you still live deep down under my covers. Of course I have put on layers to protect. Stone, blood, skin, t shirts, sweaters, coats, but you peak through.
Maybe you were the last one I loved. Though I have had love since. Maybe you were the only one I loved?
Maybe I still love you sometimes.
It doesn't matter, I mean, you are gone now and we know each other in a new way, like it never happened. But it did.
It was lovely. When you wrap your arms around me, that's when I recall.
Do you?
Maybe you were the last one I loved. Though I have had love since. Maybe you were the only one I loved?
Maybe I still love you sometimes.
It doesn't matter, I mean, you are gone now and we know each other in a new way, like it never happened. But it did.
It was lovely. When you wrap your arms around me, that's when I recall.
Do you?
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