this is the fire of waking life

rapid cycles is a drug

February 28th, 2006

02.26.06 SUNDAY 2:43PM

words i hear or read always bring me back to some song from some part of time. i understand that this happens to most people i really do. what i have to deal with is the constant music in my head. it never turns off. i wake up to a song that seems to have no reason for being there. i am in the shower with another song. sometimes, if i am most unfortunate, the same fucking song (not the entire song just a couple lines of one) will play over and over and over again - spinning through my mind running circles around my thoughts. there are those circles again, i need to learn to stop these cycles as i am tired of hearing, writing, saying that word.
if you say the word “judgment” my mind will automatically switch to a new song with lyrics that are:
“my judgment is not clear i do things that i fear i would never do i need something to forget what got me in this mess i’m feeling less and less” (if you looked at those lyrics and knew immediately who wrote them, i love you)
music - lyrics - i hear them when i try to sleep. music has a way of locking in memories, moments that i forgot existed. sometimes when lyrics are unlocked it can cause catastrophic events. lyrics remember. bad things always come in two.

i walked into my bedroom and saw the sunlight hit the same sections of my room as it did last march. i am sure the sunlight has visited these exact items several times before but right now i see something that i haven’t seen in quite some time. i looked out one of the three windows at the blue sky the blinding snow the horrifying house across the street.
a new song began.
let go.
shut your angry eyes everything is going to be okay.
i started feeling that punch in the gut - evil kind of bloodless pain. i walked out of the room back in back out (it’s times like these i subconsciously work on my art of pacing). seconds later the weight has dropped it is to the right of me and that’s okay i am left handed. i sat on the ground in that light and wrote for one and a half hours. memories ran out of that song. unlocked. written down. buried. all of those words - all of those pages filled - all these words brought me back to the first sentence. last march you looked at me the sun was blinding my view but i could see those eyes my head felt light the blood in my veins demonstrated rapid movement i felt everything. all these words written brought me back to the first sentence written:

on that day i saw you there i never felt so drunk.

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distance

February 28th, 2006

02.13.06 MONDAY 8:52PM

there is a part of me that is vicious. there are walls - egotisical fuck. i take what comes towards me.
i will take it all in.
i push it away.
these pills numb me. i drown myself with words. we are only mixtures. everything i do - these days and nights - everything brings me right back to you.

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i guess i have everyone fooled

February 28th, 2006

02.22.06 WEDNESDAY 10:12PM

there are no spaces between the cracks in these walls. there is no room for you here. i have filled out my last prescription this will never end. too many people are demanding my time please make them go away. i need to slowly withdrawl from all of this i will walk backwards but will not stop looking up until i am in my fort again.
safe.
in here i am surrounded by all that i ever needed.
safe.
my cheez-its my bass my kamel red lights red and black pens thoughts of january 5th that smoking filter.
this is the center that will continue to ground me.
here i cannot be found.
there are no spaces.

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02.07.06

February 8th, 2006

02.07.06 WEDNESDAY 10:25PM
we don’t talk too much about it. communicating sideways. why did we not fucking talk about this? communication is forbidden here. i did not ask for this. for you. hold on i think i blinked - a tiny blink just for a short moment of time i blinked where are you? there is no need to make sense of this there is nothing to make sense of - not anymore - time is slanted. disformed. vacant. this was just a dream of waking feelings so awake you are running through me. running out of every vein into my bones. through me. patterns. immediate attachment - there was no room for reason. i cannot define this i am not supposed to. these feelings need to be locked up and buried far away you do not deserve them. lock them into a tiny red box - bury them deep in this earth deep enough so blood never finds it’s way back. there is more to this - there was much more to this. there is nothing left. i have lost control it’s time to leave this behind. i have seen too much and i no longer want to see anymore. i think i made you up to forget the past.

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i’ll take what’s coming to me

February 2nd, 2006

02.01.06 WEDNESDAY 11:17PM

i don’t quite know how to explain this. i am happy right now - truly happy - it has been days - days that i have been feeling like this. i woke up this morning smiling. i got on the train to head into southie. smiling. for the first time in the 17 months i have been in this routine i am distracted. i am reading an incredible novel by my hero, Lauren Slater, yet i could not concentrate. i was distracted. i look up from my book and saw such vivid colors all around me. everything was so bright, radiant light rushing out of everyone. they were shouting so loud i could not stare at the words in front of me. everytime i looked down all i saw was mismatched black ink on faded paper. then i get to the orange line. it is late i know what this means - it will be packed so packed that people will be standing on one another angry people that just want to start swingin’. i don’t want to deal with that, not today. i made a comment that made some random girl laugh - i am glad that i could make someone’s morning better. i then said “fuck this shit” and took the green line to the red line. she followed my lead.i get to the kick ass building where i work i ran to catch the elevator. i am holding my ipod. the door started to shut and knocked my ipod out of my hand. a friend and co-worker was in the elevator. he is very amused, i am very amused. he said to me, “i had the worst commute ever and you just made my day.” nothing could kill this mood of mine - not even my “iwanttobeamangerbuthavenoideawhatiamdoing” manager. i worked 12 hours today i was still smiling. these are the days that bring me back to you - back to me.

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forming lines

January 28th, 2006

Main Entry: memoir

Pronunciation: ‘mem-”wr, -”wor

Function: noun
Etymology: Middle French memoire, from memoire memory, from Latin memoria
2 a : a narrative composed from personal experience
3 a : an account of something noteworthy
b the record of the proceedings of a learned society

- for james frey -

so where in this definition does it note that everything written is hard evidence, solid facts? yeah that’s right, it doesn’t tell you this. the truth can be tricky like that. try to remember something that is buried deep in your past - hidden - traumatic. repression. can you see it clearly? does it justify the way you feel? let me give you an example:

let’s say my girlfriend slit her wrists her blood seeping into the earth she is gone now. are these words adequate? no they are not. i feel so much more than this, so much more. i read these words written but they are not quite right.
here is how that would make me feel:
she has been waiting and waiting for so long for me to come home and finally yes finally i can leave this wretched place i can come home to you. you are scared you have gone through a major loss you are scared you need me. i get there to find that you have hung yourself. i fall to the ground and lose control for hours. for hours i am shaking crying paralyzed on the cold pavement. you tied the knot and slipped it around your neck. you hung yourself. you kicked the chair sideways and suffocated. you hung yourself.

yes, that is an accurate description of how i would feel if someone i loved took their life.

that was just an example. no i do not have a girlfriend that slit her wrists…well i did but that was 12 years ago and she did not die.

are you getting the picture yet? everyone has a story and sometimes people learn from it. “a million little pieces” is james frey’s story. it is his breathtaking art.
i said it before and i will say it over and over again - james frey has created a story that is based on events in his life that jarred a once so stable mind. for anyone that wants a refund on his book - come see me. i will beat you down with my wooden bat and will take that book from your hands because you do not deserve to own it. i used to respect oprah but this makes me question that. yeah it is all about pleasing your audience. do you understand what liturature is all about? have you ever read “lying” by lauren slater? it is an amazing book oprah, one of my favorites. i am sure that you would rip that apart as well. do you understand liturature? i do not think that you do.
here is a quote from lauren slater which is on the cover of her book, “lying”.

“there is only one kind of memior i can see to write and that’s a slippery, playful, impish, exasperating text, shaped, if it could be, like a question mark.”

right on lauren, right on.

here is what you need to do - read the following books:

a million little pieces - james frey
my friend leonard - james frey
lying - lauren slater
oh pure and radiant heart - lydia millet

when you are done with those come back to me i will fill your head with more amazing art. i would love to do this. don’t listen to that irritating noise around you. please. don’t.

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01.28.06 SATURDAY 1:06PM

January 28th, 2006

01.28.06 SATURDAY 1:06PM

almost two years ago you knocked me down hard enough that i broke into several mismatched pieces - like the way a mirror shatters when it falls from 6 feet above ground this was my head. february 4th 2004. i don’t understand this feeling i have never felt this way before what is this i do not understand it. what about all of those letters i just about lost my mind - i lost my mind - words wrapped up in tape thrown into a burning engine. what is this? manage manage i don’t know how to manage these feelings - they are scattered and i am trying to find all of them put them together hopefully someone can make sense out of this. i will collect them and tuck them into this little red box. stay there i will be back for you. i have to leave now i don’t know how to process this. for three months i lived in a manic haze never quite awake but never asleep. i spent the entire year living just above surface. how do we get to you? let’s try this interesting cocktail of prescription meds - have you come down yet?
no.
okay so let’s try this mix. then this mix. how about these colors do they work for you? do they make you feel grounded again? are you here now?
i’m sorry i don’t know how to come back.
look at the shapes and colors of these i think this is the one.
i am no longer here.
thank you for trying it’s time to stop - i see this - all of this is bleeding out of my skin. i lived in bars and took home almost anyone who came to me. countless relations rushed by only living on the surface. nothing could cut through this layer nothing could get inside i couldn’t get inside. i let people fall in love with me and i never left that surface hurting too many with my damaged head. in the month of may something weighed down on me so hard that i was finally knocked back to the ground.
i am here.
every morning was the same - crying so hard that i would reluctantly vomit. throwing up has always traumatized me - it used to be a rare occasion at this time it has become routine. i could not eat. i was forced to think of reality i couldn’t stop thinking nothing could turn it off. my body started to shake started to shrink it was so small that i thought i could disappear. what would you do if i told you the truth? stop feeding me this medicine being numb is only nice for a short amount of time. why are you climbing all around me i do not want to answer these questions anymore. i do not want this. almost exactly one year later i met someone that did not feed me lines she didn’t need to. that cold night in february out on the deck with you that exact moment is when all of my pain dissipated. it was you that took me away from all that weighed down on me you took me to a place that i haven’t seen in years. you were the one. over the next couple of months you made your way through the layers i had built - broke ground - filled me up with you.

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thief

January 28th, 2006

01.28.06 SATURDAY 7:16PM

you still pass through me. you are no longer here but you still pass through me. sometimes when i write i can feel this. you move so fast through my window into my walls now you are under the covers. the sunlight is piercing the blinds falling into intricate patterns on your back. i don’t know if i will ever be able to erase this. someone else occupies my mind now but i do not think that i will ever be able to erase this. waltz #1. it’s okay it’s alright nothing’s wrong.

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displacement

January 26th, 2006

01.26.06 THURSDAY 9:12PM

Main Entry: displacement
Pronunciation: di-’splA-sm&nt
Function: noun
3 a : the redirection of an emotion or impulse from its original object (as an idea or person) to another b : the substitution of another form of behavior for what is usual or expected especially when the usual response is nonadaptive

there are times like these when i wonder what is stopping me. jump over the edge find the side that has never been there - the side that is always there but has never been there. when my mind thinks in circles around me it is hard to place it. there is a fire inside me that will not be still. what could be stopping me from something that i feel is long overdue? weeks it has been weeks that i have been feeling this need to find ground. i used to write - handwrite in whatever i could find every single day i would do this but something will not let me now. it is too permanent - too real. it hits me harder when i write. there is always a time to let go. the ground feels softer when you close your eyes. then i see these images - images on my wall - pictures of the reasons i am still here. they bring it all back. then i stare eyes locked on the empty spaces where you used to belong. i never filled in those holes and they stare at me and even though i rarely think about it there are times when it kicks me so hard in the stomach that i lose my breath. writing here is safe i can remove this and never think about it again. ink does not leave me it is everlasting staring at me above the luminous white paper i cannot rip out those parts of my life. here i am allowed. leaving this waking feeling is something that i cannot ignore. you are not permitted to leave. beneath the surface i can feel everything.

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thoughts run circles around me

January 24th, 2006

01.24.06 TUESDAY 10:02PM

i don’t want to write anymore. i am so tired. i wish there was a way out of this - this empty feeling. there has to be a source for all of this madness and i really want to find it. maybe i don’t. it is probably better that i do not. so many thoughts of my past have been making an appearance for the first time in quite awhile. rushing all of these thoughts rushing so fast all at once i do not know how to handle this.

i remember being on the beach with you, looking at you i felt your love rush right through me it charged every part of me. i now see you on my couch. you are behind me. you are holding on to me. i feel your love.

then i remember another moment of the past. i remember being on the ski lift at loon - you looked so cute in your yellow jacket - your runny nose. later that evening we went to the usual bar after skiing all day. i looked to the right of me and saw you. your amazing smile - talking to the locals. i was thinking to myself that i am so lucky to be with you. i looked into your eyes i was in love with you.

then there is you. my fort. my wall. my promise to myself that i would never love again. not the way i used to. failed love. love lost. i have learned this well. when i finally think i figured it out the whole plan changes.

12 years ago i found you reading charlotte bronte in the hallway. i read sylvia path to you. we felt an amazing connection that is still there but throughout the years has taken many different forms. you are the person that knows me best - knows the worst and best of me - has seen me go through more than i care to admit. 2004 was the hardest year i have ever had to go through. i fought so hard - sometimes i did not fight instead i just watched the earth swallow me whole. those times when i didn’t want to fight you were there. you picked me up and forced me to fight again - you are one of the the reasons i am still alive. after all of this you are still here.

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this is the fire of waking life

rapid cycles is a drug

distance

i guess i have everyone fooled

02.07.06

i’ll take what’s coming to me

forming lines

01.28.06 SATURDAY 1:06PM

thief

displacement

thoughts run circles around me

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