goodbyethe...

goodbyethere was that blue warehouse just down from Grape St. on 30th,and even my blood was anticipating,my vision blurred and there you werewith your back to me behind the counter.all i could think to say was your name.you turned and said, "hi. thanks. take care."as i gave you your things and leftso unsatisfied.

tomorrowf...

tomorrowfour months ago tomorrowwe were still pretendingwe were in a relationship,and my heart weighed heavyupon my chest, and i couldbarely take a breath without crying.four days from tomorrowi will be heading Eastin some form or anotheri don't really know yet,and i probably will neverspeak to you again.four months from tomorrowmaybe i will finally stopwriting this shitty poetry;maybe i will finally feellike a human being againwith a full-bodied heart,ready to love.

insomniai can...

insomniai can't sleep.i want to call you,but you're probably busyfucking your boyfriendor something like that.golly gee, this sucksto be me.

Today, I a...

Today, I am a mess.I stressed myself to the max over this audition for W;t, and I worked MY ASS OFF on understanding cancer and treatments and John Donne poems and the play, and I worked on it in a million classes, and I had objectives and ideas and everything prepared for the sides I was given. I was mostly off-book! And then I got to the audition and was handed a different side and had no chance to read the other ones at all. And I KNEW it, because I've read the play. But since my main strength as an actor is my ability to work my ass off, and since that didn't show, in my mind, I am fucked. I'm probably not going to get this part. And now, I have to figure out what the fuck to do with my life. On top of that, life is gonna be pretty hard until I get that phone-call letting me know. Life seriously sucks today. And I just feel so futile.

i'm broken.

Note:Cursive is not conducive to the workplace. And I wish this asshole would fucking turn it off, or at least turn it down--or at the very least stop stamping his foot and singing poorly along with it. Good thing it's only a forty-minute CD. I just want the noise to go away so that I can concentrate. I hate background music. But I guess this is fucking karma biting me in the ass. Fuck karma.

apple95% of t...

apple95% of the time,all i want is a way outof this amateur worldinto the big city life,where people matter--at least to themselves.the rest of the time,i spend fearing unknowns,opting for my safe bubbleof comfort and fancy talk.decision time is coming,and it's going to be hard,but i'll have it my wayor take the highwaysomewhere out eastwhere the sun riseshopefully for me.

ugly...

uglypeople tell me i'm attractive,but i don't really believe them.no girls really come onto me.they just tell me i'm attractive.and while that's great to know,it sure doesn't matter at allif no one is ever interestedin more than talking to me--and they don't do that either.i look in the mirror every dayand am more and more disappointed.i still feel like i'm ten,but i look uglier by the minute.more and more, my hair falls off of my head and regrows in really ugly places,and all i feel is fat bulgingeverywhere along my wrinkling bodyeven though i know i'm skinny.and i guess i feel like it'ssome really complicated jokeand that my lot in life isto come to terms with the factthat i will never be sexy...just a character actor.and isn't it strangethat we write these thingscomplaining about everythingwe can think of to complain aboutand then call that art?and the funny thing is:that is the ugliest part,but isn't it poetic?