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?

habitu...

habitually i wake up slowand turn to the computer;my internet dies,and i go running;i come back sweatyand get in the shower;then i eat, eat, eatand drink, drink, drinkall day while i go do things,small things, pointless things,things that cost way too much money,so that i can tire myself to sleep.sometimes, someone calls my phoneor runs into me at some storeand my bullshit plans alter a bit,but this is how i live my life.why is that?

divide...

divided i'm sad again.it's hard to avoid.since we split, i haven't much knownwhat to do with much.i plan all these thingsto fill up my days,but i just think all the time aboutavoiding you.

I'm writing a song...

I'm writing a song. Who knew?

phonecallhi, du...

phonecallhi, dude.i know it's fucking stupidly late,and i probably woke you up,but this needed to be said,and right now is the time:i fucking respect the shitout of you as a person,and it's so awesome thatwe're hanging out again.now, go back to bed.i'm loving you, guy.bye.

this is ...

this is futilitystanding next to you,it's like i'm not upright.suddenly, the world disappearsand i'm totally eclipsed.i try so hard to simply exist.even my attempts go unnoticedin your shadow of my doubtbecause all anyone ever seesis you, you, you, you, you.including me.

isn't it stran...

isn't it strange?this was itjust a few months ago.we swore on clasped handsthat we were one connectedon some love wavelengthsplitting a soul in half.yet looking at us now,an outside eye could swearwe never gave a shit at all.does that thought ever pulse through your fucked up heartas you're kissing him?

tipsyyes, i dr...

tipsyyes, i drove home,and i'm a bit tipsy--there's no denying itor the awesome pleasurein ripping one-dollar bills,ranting against america,unashamedly laughing.

am i ready...

am i ready?i don't want to sleep yet.i'm afraid of waking up late{or of waking up at all)and seeing what is goingto happen tomorrow.my horoscope is promisingand i just don't wantto be let down again.here's hoping...

dream ab...

dream about youyou were more beautiful last nightthan i can ever remember you being.i can't really recall much subtext--after all, it was a sex dream.i guess we never really had sex,but you definitely put me to sleepwith the most wonderful blow jobthat i have never had, and i swooned,thinking about how much more you meantthan my last relationship blunder,as odd as it all may seem.and it certainly is.

rant"do...

rant"don't hide in you work,"she said with caring disdain.it's always the argumentof the over-privileged.maybe i should watch some tv,pop some pills, read a book,and get happy quick like you.no, i'm not too skinny, thank you.i work out for once in my life,and i find that it regulatesmy blah-blah-tonin stress levelsbetter than your bullshit.yeah, you thought i wasn't an angry person anymore, butyou just bring out the best.i'm not hiding from anything.i wish i could just sit outand let my alter-ego live for me,but it's simply not possiblebecause you make no sense at all.do you even know what you mean?i don't need to embrace myself.i'm not lost. i'm right here.and it is fucking okayto power through a bad dayor a shit month or a dead yearwith some form of progress.would you suggest i justsit at home on my assand be miserable?

same o...

same oldrolling out of bed,stretching out and groggy,planning the day ahead,and i can't help but wonder:aren't these the same goalsi overcame already yesterdayand every other morning before?as i fumble for my coffee.

gift of ...

gift of hopeafter all the yellow lights,eyelashes, pennies into pools,horoscopes, salted shoulders, head-flipped coins, magic-8 balls,lucky charms and fortune cookies,and prayers to someone up there,i am still discontent, yet i expectevery day tomorrow will change and i'll wake on a happy cloudwith all my dreams intactand a detailed map of howto make them come alive.ah, humanity.

closureit's 2007...

closureit's 2007 now. and you're still silent.all my anticipations haven't mattered a bit.and i guess i just wanteda chance to wish you well.and give you that hug i promisedin october.

closureit's 2007...

closureit's 2007 now. and you're still silent.all my anticipations haven't mattered a bit.and i guess i just wanteda chance to wish you well.and give you that hug i promisedin october.

empty armsit seems...

empty armsit seems tonightmy phone will stay silentas i write myself to sleep.tomorrow i will wakewithout you here.it still surprises me.next month i'll be out east,yet with 3,000 miles between us, i'll still expect youor a goodbye.

getting over...

getting over iti really do hate poetry.but there's something almost cleansingin it: like an art bath to wash awaythe reality of our baggage.i bled all over it anywaywhen i poured my heart outand you shrugged.

golden gateit was...

golden gateit was way too late,but there we weredriving and drummingon the dash over the bay.and we pulled around,stopped the car,and stole the viewas the music blasted.and we rejoiced.

collyrium

I am not resolute. In fact, I feel very on-edge. It sucks, and I don't know what to do. Still no word from Rachael or any of my auditions of late. That's making me nervous. For some reason, no matter how much I don't want to be with Rachael or see her or hear from her, I still want to, and that confuses me. It's getting towards moving time. February 12th is the day. If I have no options by then, I told myself I'd leave. I'm scared. I don't know anyone in Chicago or New York. I've never been on my own, either. I really don't know what to do. It's funny. You make these plans, and you really want to follow through with them, because they are what you want, but you're so fucking scared to do it that you feel frozen. I have times where I don't want to move anymore--like literally move my muscles and do something. I just want someone to do everything for me. I'm so afraid all the time. Your 20s are a scary thing. You start very much as a child and are expected to end as an adult. Who knows why I do theatre. It's a bad idea for me. It's 100% stupid. But I love it. I'm going to starve. As soon as I'm East, I will essentially have no real plan. That's kinda exciting, but mucho scary. My plan will be to figure out where I want to live. That's not a fun time.I need new headshots. I was considering asking Nathan. We'll see. I want to get more professional ones than I have. Maybe I really need to bite the bullet and shove out the money for real ones.This is what my brain is like. I am becoming more and more scatter-brained in my old age here. Ah well. If this life made sense, everyone would do it.