"It is too late. The evacuation still proceeds, but it’s all theater."
-'The Seventies Now' by Stephen Miller
---------------------------------------------------------
I'm packing up the last of my things at my apt and moving home today. It's all stuff that I have taken with me, moved with me, for years now. And yet, as I move once again, I can't help but have this irrational fear that I am somehow losing a whole store of memories that I connect to this place. I realize that memories will last and stay with me wherever I am, but its hard when I know I am losing something that has proven to be a reminder of those events. I have connected so much of this place with my last relationship, with my friends and with my own growth over the past year.
That doorway was where we had our first real kiss.
That was the spot on the floor where I sat when we played spin the bottle.
I made snappy molasses crinkles with Jamie in that kitchen, ate dinner on the floor and talked for hours.
I wrote my play on my bed, on my couch, on my desk, in my kitchen, on my patio.
That's where I wrote the rant that later became Margaret.
That's where I watched the Grind House movies with Dane.
That's where I storyboarded my show from start to finish.
That's where I sent a text using the 'L' word for the first time.
That's the shower I spent nine hours in one day when I had mono, just so i could breathe.
That's the spot where I was sitting when I knew I had to end it.
That spot in the living room was where I slept for a whole month after the breakup.
Sigh... there are so many more... I'll leave those out.
But. I still have those memories. Those events happened, and will stay with me even when I am someplace else. But there seems to be a need in me to hold onto this tangible reminder. This physical tie to a relationship, a play, a party, some words. I am holding on too much. It's time for a move. It's time to let go of reminders.
It's time.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
call you me fair?
"I'm not about to settle for anything less than maturity, honesty, humor, and unbridled passion.
When you kiss me, it better be good.
When you touch me, it better be tender but firm with clear intent from the start.
When you speak to me, you better make me laugh HARD.
When you meet me, you better look me in the eye.
When we embrace, you better smell like heaven.
When we wake up in the morning, you better roll over and get into my arms.
When we go out places, you better not hide me for one moment.
When we see a movie, you better hold my hand and squeeze at the good parts. Or bad ones.
When you see my art, you better tell me what you think AND WHY.
When we get ready to go to dinner, you better help me tie my tie even if you're bad at it."
-From John's Blog
----------------------------------------------------
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
256
when you dig my grave
gravedigger
damn.
where was I?
250- something?
counting the dots on my popcorn ceiling
waiting
waiting.
procrastinating.
i can almost smell you now.
sitting here in the dim light. if i stay just still enough, with the covers up over my nose, i can almost still smell you. your skin leaving its mark on the sheets.
257?
258
259
260
i remember the first time i was near you after the end. you standing just close enough. the wind blowing in just the right way. that your smell overcame me all at once, like a large wave knocking over a child. pulling it back in as it goes.
i had to clench my teeth just to keep from breaking.
i wrote it into my show. no. i stole it from another show and called it my own.
"sometimes i turn around and catch the smell of you, and i cannot go on i cannot fucking go on without expressing this terrible so fucking awful physical longing i have for you..."
but all was good. we were. good.
and now here i am counting the dots on my popcorn ceiling, trying to catch the last note of you.
but it has been gone a long time. you have been gone a long time. and its not that i miss you anymore. its not that i wish things were different between us. but the silence. the quiet. under this popcorn ceiling. i cant help but hold the covers a little closer. waiting. wishing.
261
262
i have figured out the formula to this madness. the reason behind the thoughts. its not you that i am missing. its the body. the entity. the person. a reason to wake up in the morning. someone to stand by me. to hold me. someone for me to wrap my arms around and call mine. someone for me to kiss and whose eyes i can get lost in. someone who will look after me when i am sick. someone for me to hold hands with. someone for me to give that 'slanted smile' to. i miss the idea of you.
or so i tell myself.
i am en expert at holding on to pain. residual feelings. missing things that may not have ever been there to begin with. call me an emotional masochist. i seem to enjoy the torture. revel in my misery, simply because you are happy.
no. thats not true.
we begin again.
1
2
3
4
5
stop it. ha...
"tried that, didn't work..."
i am an endless box of quotations. give me time, and i can make art out of my babble. catch me off guard, and all you get is mud. i have no solutions for this rut. no instant formula to solve this world of popcorn ceilings.
where is the sky?
[omit]
we begin again.
1
2
3
4
how do i begin again when all i do is compare the next one to you? to this idea in my mind that isnt even true? nothing compares. thats the problem. my imagination has taken over. my mind has created world upon world. vast cities of love. and when reality doesnt match up, i hide under my covers, trying to smell what could have been.
its time to pull off these sheets. no. its time to pack these sheets away in a box and move. put away my ideas and stop staring at my popcorn ceiling.
my sky is out there.
stupid. inspirational. clap-trap.
cheesy.
no more.
When you kiss me, it better be good.
When you touch me, it better be tender but firm with clear intent from the start.
When you speak to me, you better make me laugh HARD.
When you meet me, you better look me in the eye.
When we embrace, you better smell like heaven.
When we wake up in the morning, you better roll over and get into my arms.
When we go out places, you better not hide me for one moment.
When we see a movie, you better hold my hand and squeeze at the good parts. Or bad ones.
When you see my art, you better tell me what you think AND WHY.
When we get ready to go to dinner, you better help me tie my tie even if you're bad at it."
-From John's Blog
----------------------------------------------------
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
256
when you dig my grave
gravedigger
damn.
where was I?
250- something?
counting the dots on my popcorn ceiling
waiting
waiting.
procrastinating.
i can almost smell you now.
sitting here in the dim light. if i stay just still enough, with the covers up over my nose, i can almost still smell you. your skin leaving its mark on the sheets.
257?
258
259
260
i remember the first time i was near you after the end. you standing just close enough. the wind blowing in just the right way. that your smell overcame me all at once, like a large wave knocking over a child. pulling it back in as it goes.
i had to clench my teeth just to keep from breaking.
i wrote it into my show. no. i stole it from another show and called it my own.
"sometimes i turn around and catch the smell of you, and i cannot go on i cannot fucking go on without expressing this terrible so fucking awful physical longing i have for you..."
but all was good. we were. good.
and now here i am counting the dots on my popcorn ceiling, trying to catch the last note of you.
but it has been gone a long time. you have been gone a long time. and its not that i miss you anymore. its not that i wish things were different between us. but the silence. the quiet. under this popcorn ceiling. i cant help but hold the covers a little closer. waiting. wishing.
261
262
i have figured out the formula to this madness. the reason behind the thoughts. its not you that i am missing. its the body. the entity. the person. a reason to wake up in the morning. someone to stand by me. to hold me. someone for me to wrap my arms around and call mine. someone for me to kiss and whose eyes i can get lost in. someone who will look after me when i am sick. someone for me to hold hands with. someone for me to give that 'slanted smile' to. i miss the idea of you.
or so i tell myself.
i am en expert at holding on to pain. residual feelings. missing things that may not have ever been there to begin with. call me an emotional masochist. i seem to enjoy the torture. revel in my misery, simply because you are happy.
no. thats not true.
we begin again.
1
2
3
4
5
stop it. ha...
"tried that, didn't work..."
i am an endless box of quotations. give me time, and i can make art out of my babble. catch me off guard, and all you get is mud. i have no solutions for this rut. no instant formula to solve this world of popcorn ceilings.
where is the sky?
[omit]
we begin again.
1
2
3
4
how do i begin again when all i do is compare the next one to you? to this idea in my mind that isnt even true? nothing compares. thats the problem. my imagination has taken over. my mind has created world upon world. vast cities of love. and when reality doesnt match up, i hide under my covers, trying to smell what could have been.
its time to pull off these sheets. no. its time to pack these sheets away in a box and move. put away my ideas and stop staring at my popcorn ceiling.
my sky is out there.
stupid. inspirational. clap-trap.
cheesy.
no more.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Nonsense
"Be all yourself, for that is all there is of you."
-Emerson
---------------------------------------------------
I find myself caring less and less for people's opinion of me. It's not that I am completely apatheic, or that I am acting without regard to those around me, but when it comes down to it... I'm going to live my life the way I want to regardless of what anyone thinks. And I have that right. Who cares if I go into bartending? Who cares if I choose a career that is nearly impossible to support yourself with? Who cares who I choose to date? Who cares if I support Obama? Who cares if I take risks in my life? Who cares???
You might. But that's not going to stop me.
I am a grown adult; one who is capable of making life choices, making my own opinions on social and political issues, choosing my own career path and finding love wherever it may come. So don't presume to know me. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do. You can give me advice, but know that I might not take it. I do have a decent head on my shoulders, and make good life decisions every single day. And like I always say, My playing small doesnt serve the world, or me.
----------------------------------------------------
On another note...
In the past two weeks:
I graduated.
I lost a friend.
I took the first baby steps of my career.
I cried.
I lost a lot of sleep.
I laughed.
I enrolled in more classes.
And tomorrow, I will turn 22.
I'm ready for more. Bring it on.
-Emerson
---------------------------------------------------
I find myself caring less and less for people's opinion of me. It's not that I am completely apatheic, or that I am acting without regard to those around me, but when it comes down to it... I'm going to live my life the way I want to regardless of what anyone thinks. And I have that right. Who cares if I go into bartending? Who cares if I choose a career that is nearly impossible to support yourself with? Who cares who I choose to date? Who cares if I support Obama? Who cares if I take risks in my life? Who cares???
You might. But that's not going to stop me.
I am a grown adult; one who is capable of making life choices, making my own opinions on social and political issues, choosing my own career path and finding love wherever it may come. So don't presume to know me. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do. You can give me advice, but know that I might not take it. I do have a decent head on my shoulders, and make good life decisions every single day. And like I always say, My playing small doesnt serve the world, or me.
----------------------------------------------------
On another note...
In the past two weeks:
I graduated.
I lost a friend.
I took the first baby steps of my career.
I cried.
I lost a lot of sleep.
I laughed.
I enrolled in more classes.
And tomorrow, I will turn 22.
I'm ready for more. Bring it on.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
F-YOU exit sign on stage-right
[omit]: Lets make it easy
Aaron: ?
[omit]: Lets stop talking. We are just making it weird for you
Aaron: I want to be friends. I'm capable of that. The rest is on you. Its weird only if you make it, which right now you seem bent on.
[omit]: Wow. Very bold of you. We'll see where it gets you
Aaron: Whatever the hell that means...
[omit]: After reading that it is mean. And I don't know what it means
Aaron: You frustrate me [omit]. And I'd like to hang out as friends, but all my other friends actually text me occasionally and respond to my messages. So I'm not sure exactly what to do with you.
[omit]: Understandable. I dont want to be your friend aaron
Aaron: Alright.
[omit]: Im confused
Aaron: Yes. You are. And so am I. Clearly.
[omit]: I cant just be your friend
Aaron: Well, you need to be.
[omit]: Okay. So. Hence no text.
Aaron: Well no texting makes it impossible for me to even be simple friends with you. Is this an all of nothing thing? We can't just be friends?
[omit]: ??? Arent you leaving?
Aaron: Not anytime soon.
[omit]: Aaron. I hurt you. I know. I'm sorry. You dont get it do you
Aaron: I get it [omit]. Completely. But it seems I'm the one hurting you right now. I can move on.
Aaron: ??
Aaron: So what's up?
Aaron: You know what. Fine. You don't text me anyway. I'll just stop reaching out. I have tried to be friends with you, but you won't allow that, it seems.
Aaron: We can't have something... more. And so I'll always be that one that got away... but my efforts to make something, anything out of this are being thrown in my face. I'm sorry if I am hurting you. If I am some constant temptation in your life, but stop allowing me to be. I want more with you, but have accepted that its not going to happen. I can move on and still be friends. But I can't take all these love games. This constant nagging on my heartstrings. It has to stop.
So take all the time you need. Cuz I'm tired. And my heart is sore.
Aaron: ?
[omit]: Lets stop talking. We are just making it weird for you
Aaron: I want to be friends. I'm capable of that. The rest is on you. Its weird only if you make it, which right now you seem bent on.
[omit]: Wow. Very bold of you. We'll see where it gets you
Aaron: Whatever the hell that means...
[omit]: After reading that it is mean. And I don't know what it means
Aaron: You frustrate me [omit]. And I'd like to hang out as friends, but all my other friends actually text me occasionally and respond to my messages. So I'm not sure exactly what to do with you.
[omit]: Understandable. I dont want to be your friend aaron
Aaron: Alright.
[omit]: Im confused
Aaron: Yes. You are. And so am I. Clearly.
[omit]: I cant just be your friend
Aaron: Well, you need to be.
[omit]: Okay. So. Hence no text.
Aaron: Well no texting makes it impossible for me to even be simple friends with you. Is this an all of nothing thing? We can't just be friends?
[omit]: ??? Arent you leaving?
Aaron: Not anytime soon.
[omit]: Aaron. I hurt you. I know. I'm sorry. You dont get it do you
Aaron: I get it [omit]. Completely. But it seems I'm the one hurting you right now. I can move on.
Aaron: ??
Aaron: So what's up?
Aaron: You know what. Fine. You don't text me anyway. I'll just stop reaching out. I have tried to be friends with you, but you won't allow that, it seems.
Aaron: We can't have something... more. And so I'll always be that one that got away... but my efforts to make something, anything out of this are being thrown in my face. I'm sorry if I am hurting you. If I am some constant temptation in your life, but stop allowing me to be. I want more with you, but have accepted that its not going to happen. I can move on and still be friends. But I can't take all these love games. This constant nagging on my heartstrings. It has to stop.
So take all the time you need. Cuz I'm tired. And my heart is sore.
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