et tu, brute?

i forgot

i was supposed to get ripped in 4 weeks instead of 6

wizdom removal

this one time when i was a kid, a kid told me this:

" i knew a kid once who got his wisdom teeth removed,
and his mind became completely blurred, got to his brain.
he turned stupid, lost his wisdom."

according to the logic, half of my wisdom will be stripped away tomorrow - all for the confirmations of science and a straight set-a-teeth.

halloween - moments that turn back hours
a. 2008 - fractured rib-bone
b. 2009 - squirrely face

spider season

"

i wanted to let mountains, oceans, and green islands speak to you
convincingly with their enticing tongues, and wanted to compel you
to see the immeasurably varied and exuberant life blossoming and
overflowing outside your houses and city every day

"

i wanted you feel ashamed of knowing more about foreign wars,
gossip, literature, and art than of the springs bursting forth outside your towns, than
of the rivers flowing under the bridges, than of the forests and marvelous meadows through
which your railroads speed
...................... should discover even greater joy in it .....................

"

i wanted, i wished, i hoped: i know it sounds off, but i am still waiting for the day when all this wanting will resolve itself in a form and a plan.

"

hermann hesse's peter camenzind

call me, i'm single

and we could meet up for coffee, or something less cliche

a boy named sue

self proclaimed prole

sailin' on

-transferred to the mermaid's lagoon daycare at starbucks headquarters
-got shut down by the cops in portland at mikrofest
-ate pizza, drank dr. shasta
-grocery outlet vision 24/7

as if the heart were not enough

equal in size to 78 football fields

pup

.not returning to vancouver this fall
.helmet ticket
.stoked on books and monkey island (the pc game)
.standardized independent living
.chef-ing

no idea

of what anything is anymore, especially this thing they call 'fun' -
a flailing sentimental robe reaching out like claws making you think
it's expected when it's gone.

i saw 25 enforcement vehicles circling 3 blocks- one apprehended up
the hill, one running alongside the grocery store, one cutting through
our alleyway trying to blend into the unsuspecting civil obedience.
pitch dark ... like a one-way hole, irrevocable actions without an effective predetermination of balance.

heatwave

still

roaming/romaining some shady corners,
(re)exploring ones capacities to cope with the most
undesired implications of a dependent status;
crying when they're laughing - straining when they're releasing
= indispensable garbage

i tied my arms to be free

shut the door so i can leave
shut the door.

month of the oven

anxiety

past disappointments giving way to future developments
future plans giving way to ruptured expectations;
the uncertainties of a steady season lifting the entrance curtain
to the prelude of a fragile winter - athlete's foot beware;
the fog rolls in an settles for weeks on end.
---
climbing tree branches and waiting for the winter squirrels to
knock you off their entrance; the valley, the slope, the top.

for us

i.
every day you are gone, there is a sad face
every day you are closer home, there is a happy face
every day you just anticipate will be a 'snail-by,' there is a straight face
every second of the day you are on route,
the smile will culminate
with an explosion of tears, warmer than i could ever imagine;
a hot flush and cascades of relief all focal around our cheeks.

ii.
pause and relinquish in the tumbling moments of an emancipated future.
from point a. to point z. without any gaps or lopsided connections - better yet,
without any decreasing bulk to your wallet's intake/specialization for the z/y/x
industry(ies). time off is time lost -> lost time is futile, worth less than the blankest bathroom mirror reflection - worthless.
it's just how things are, you were never asked to sign a contract when you were
born into this - you just become it, and you damn straight better keep your mouth shut.

we all carry this baggage along with us - what makes me think i can carry it half as slow?
the gram outweighs the ton, by a million. clean is only there where you make it, and filth is only
the linguistic connotation this dichotomy must represent. success is reflected onto you, not created...

and you should know half-better than what we did.

iii.
'there is a path you must follow, i'll take you there; the thorny vines have grown over the
brush, but other than that the path is right there , it won't take much, just sacrifice and and and LISTEN! THEY ARE LETTING YOU COME a sheer sense of satisfaction detached from norms of spirit and cosmical orientations.'

"but i didn't want broccoleeeeee"
don't want it, don't get it

now my hand's in the hive

this is some bullshit: icepacks, emergency room, easy bruising, pain medicine, antibiotics, infections, soapy water soakings, antibiotics, bandaging, icyhots, stress, snailing along, sweating and waking up four times a night, oh and more pain medicine. my stomach needs a break, so does my body. somebody call up the Medicine Man and have him give me even his grossest smelling/tasting potion to make me immune of this horrible streak of luck. i just wanna forget these last 2 weeks even happened. i

i am

so wiped.
wiped to the point where the act of eating starts looking more like a task
than a craving, each crunch of the teeth considerably diminishing your energies
and finalizing the passing of time to it's slowest procession.

ufffffffff

weekends: empty hearts, broken bottles

bread - tea - coffee and

the longest reading attempt thus far.

"you must go through at least a year of it to have some notion.
i say there was no permanence. Even that town was temporary. i say it. all vanity and vexation of the spirit,

"one generation passeth away, and another cometh: but the earth abideth forever, or as forever as the rain let it" (22).