i love all the trees around the library. the ones near palmer, like japanese willows, the ones in front, haunted by car headlamps until the silence offered by 2 am.

the only sad thing tonight is that there is no moon visible. no moon caught by  branches. no moon peeking from the snow-making clouds.

I can't sing the moon song to no moon.

and so I'm kind of like

  

instead of writing my paper

which is a shitty little three page thing about a poem i hate. I hate writing about poems I hate. but I think that'll make my paper better in this case.

I don't understand passionless people. Sometimes being in the library really confuses me because people  have conversations about work they don't really care about. Not all, but some.

I guess i've just spoiled myself with this creative writing and philosophy majoring. Next year is going to be a fucking wake up call.

sometimes I get so stuck in my Romantic, silly, sometimes morbidity mongering head with all the poetry that reality is an awful punch to the face.

then I have to look at the trees again.

and there is still no moon so I get sad again.

there is no lasting satisfaction. there is no place between creating and reality that satisfies the creative while simultaneously satisfying the necessity of being present (Except collaborating with people artistically which is alot easier to do through music, theater and visual art, I think.) Its constant jumping out of my head as I habitually and sometimes accidentally sidle into it    in order to properly communicate with people or understand a communication. This is silly because I write poetry because my need for communication isn't satisfied by conversation. so maybe this need would be satisfied If I didn't get stuck in the Romantic-ness of poetry all time but instead stayed present in the live communication.

its ridiculous. im ridiculous. I annoy the shit out of myself. No matter how many different genres I outfit myself in I am still the same person. I can't escape myself

so

the outfits and the music help me organize my thoughts, point them in a certain direction. but are also a form of escapism in a sense. choose the perfect music to shape the moment (OH MY AND when it happens by accident, outside of my control, its so beautiful!)

Instead of taking medication or going to therapy, I make identities out of materials. to channel my thoughts into a genre.. and then the music more specifically rechannels the already channeled thoughts into a subject and a movement within the genre. Like a shakespeare play that directs its actors through the rhythm of words. but then speaking always brings elements outside of control-  resulting in either something surprisingly spectacular or sadly disappointing.

Mostly, without the organization of channeling or translating (accomplished in an infinite number of ways, but for the sake of brevity, I'm just talking about music and fashion as they're the most obvious to me,) speaking is total chaos or utterly useless. physicality and posture is another means of channeling.

keep the people in your life who inspire the beautiful spontaneous speaking.

just look at the trees, you'll see what Im saying.

sometimes I should shut the fuck up, but mostly I don't know when that is. SOmetimes I Should speak more, but mostly I can't when I should.

Im taking this as my que to stop blogging and continue writing my stupid paper.

i forgot. I can't follow ques. ques make me want to un-queue, to speak out of turn, jump to conclusions, rebel against direction. You know what I'm saying. its along the lines of wanting what you can't have and doing what you shouldn't.  

Skywards

dedicated to everybody

 

A spire portrudes un-shyly skywards

peaking above an old 1920s Colorado Springs Church,

perfect, rococo and autonomous,

a smooth sandstone snake

poking its forked tongue skywards.

 

I stand

on the grey sidewalk

imagining your smile,

peering at the brilliance of skywards,

and all that stands alone--

spire and smile.  

one more thing that makes me crazy on a daily basis:

-do you ever get annoyed at traffic lights and yourself while you're walking in the sense that if you haven't crossed when the sign is stopped red, and instead walk straight because there is no on going traffic on the straight path you feel guilty because you didn't take advantage of the red light because you have to cross eventually anyway and there may not be another red light in the direction you have to cross before you get home? so you might possibly have to wait for 5 seconds in the future ...all this resulting in the incessant compulsion to cross the street if a light is red so you can take advantage of the legality of your walking?

sometimes I miss living on campus for this reason. simpler times, dontchaknow?

-also: sometimes I really enjoy having the right kind of awkward moments with people because I think they're hilarious and kind of cute- but sometimes they just suck.

In a nutshell,

the nutcase is a hard thing to crack

 

Comments

[DrumTheDarling]

I stopped blogging altogether because I found a problem in not being able to follow cues to stop writing. Now I just stay up until 4 in the morning thinking about all the shit I could be blogging. Please don't ever give a damn about cues. It's not like you're going to stop thinking your rad-ass thoughts once you've stopped typing them. Please be a courteous person and share those thoughts with me, damn it!

I completely sympathize with you on the traffic lights thing. As a side note, did you know that those buttons we press at the lights are supposedly all disabled, and remain intact as a placebo to ease our busied minds? Yeah, there are only a handful left working somewhere in Texas.

See, I've already passed my "comment ending cue" here. I don't give a flying fuck.

I also missed the moon tonight :(. Since it's let us both down, it had better look a little something like this next time it appears as a whole: http://21stcenturywaves.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/full_moon_small.jpg

I think I'm issuing a perfect example of the sucky kind of awkward you mentioned. I'm tired and my computer is making a noise like it's going to explode, so perhaps I'm a little on-edge.

No, it isn't the computer. I'm always this awkward. Maybe a little more tactful on a regular basis, though? No, not even that.

Let's not fucking restrain ourselves.

Thank you for another poem. It helped me get through the moonless night feeling nevertheless enlightened.

[ali]

who are you!?!?!?

im glad you liked the poem!!! its for you!

and I do hope that beautiful moon comes out...but I think that requires leaving campus and going somewhere remote...

but I have to stay on campus to work on my poetry book and keep myself sane.

I kind of don't want to know who you are because this is fun!

and no i didn't know that those stupid buttons were placebos...but I never paid attention to them anyway.

you should keep blogging. its a good method of channeling.

except sometimes I wander around thinking within the context of a silly blog concept that I've thought up....and its really debilitating for being in reality

[ali]

this isn't awkward.

Im thinking more along the lines of not knowing what to say...blurting out something awkward....overthinking the awkward thing that you've said ...while the other person stares at you...also not knowing what to say...because responding to the awkwardness of your comment is, first of all, difficult, and second... they just dont know what to say in general.

this is the sort of thing that happens to me all the time when I really want to talk to somebody...but then I end up running away for fear of just blurting out something absolutely out of control...which I've been known to do.

you are not awkward.

you should start blogging again.

also, write a poem about nutshells! I think you had a tangent there...

[Air Force 1]

Took me time to learn the whole guide, the report is wonderful however the feedback carry extra brainstorm suggestions, with thanks.