i was going to write a story for a website but it turned into something else quite quickly

dear those who know me and think this may be about someone in particular: it isn't/it is, kind of and for the most part.  this is a semi-organized stream of thought regarding 'things' that sometimes deal heavily with 'her'.

Freshman in college trying to get some

Lovers in college taking philosophy together

Walking in gardens smiling at tulips 2 am

Thinking of the world each other and happiness

Crying over loss hate longing

How many people have you been with?

“between 100 and 500”

there was no rest that night

things were bad

things were good

sex, lots of sex

he walked in the snow in the cold in the freezing shit of the world

to be with her to escape her to be with her

he was with her for a second

for a few years

maybe four

flash back on a bench in the city or flash forward to a

flash back in a gazebo holding hands talking the night away where there was a

flash forward behind the glow of her laptop

maybe in a house where he sat in the glow while she partied

fucked and drank and ignored

maybe it wasn’t her

in college and confused sort of fucked

that was his first

that was her fears realized

realized when he was in the shower with another being that was different

wasn’t her

he lied

how many people have you been with?

“Between 100 and 500”

Things were bad

Things were good

Sex, lots of sex

Someone perished it was sad and everyone felt remorse

He was sad but he couldn’t cry

He tried to cry

He forced himself

Emotionally null or in love but all the same

Things were good

Things were bad

Sex, lots of sex

She saw an owl

An omen, or maybe just an owl

No she didn’t see it she loved it

No they were hiking she saw a deer

They fought they loved

Four years later she almost died

And he walked away

One day later he felt regret, remorse, longing, self-loathing

Three months later and six months and ten months and twelve months still

One year later he decided he wanted to be together forever

A month too late

A day too late

Two months too late

How many people have you been with?

“Between 100 and 500”

Things were good

Things were bad

Sex, there was no sex

She fell in love with another him

A different him

He’s only really been with one

a little beauty

for your night:

las ondas marteles

never heard of them/listened to them until i watched these lovely la blogoteque sessions.  they got a fantastic unique sound.  something bout that lead singer cracking in and out of his tenor and the deep bass/the nakedness of it all. cuban/mexican/parisian musical influences create a sound unlike anything i can think of for comparison. 

four videos at the link.

Las Ondas Marteles - Poor Little Baby - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

more haiku

i want my heart back

i want to be over you

yr smiling with him

oatmeal

it's the little things

like a handful of raisins

leave me frozen here

a home dichotomy

my 'little' sister is a 'successful' graphic designer in NYC, she resides in williamsburg.  for the most part she is in love with it, but a kind of love that comes after a year of dating or so.  she is a year younger than me.  she has incredible talent in the ways of visual art/graphic design/crafting things that are neat.  she can sing like a pretty lil bird and is smart like a dolphin.  she stayed up really late and wrote these and i shared them:

2 poems by jenna

Home

I used to reject it

There was so much in the world outside of it that I never thought I’d look back

Its simple and quiet but I wasn’t then

Corn fields are boring and soy fields too

The quiet        

Sweating why cant we have air conditioning 

There are bugs eating away the ivy

Cicadas so loud you cant hear inside your head

Driving cars around bendy bits for the rush

There is room to scream

You need more you say

To yell so you fill up the entire sky

Echoing your voice to the stars

And offend noone

Now
If only I could have it all back

To  the city

You are dirty and foul

Your rivers are polluted with the waste of millions

Your streets and dumps and alleys are full of the sludge of human cosumerism

We become fat and docile and laugh

Our rosy cheeks

dear mom, i hope you never read this

i have a really hard cock with great manners

i know what you are thinking

like, 'no that can not be so, that is sort of an oxymoron'

but

i really have a really hard cock with really great manners

you should see him at cock-tail parties

cock-tail parties are his forte

'would you please pour me a palate-cleansing spot of port my dear man'

'the tiramazu is a gustatory delight, you are a true artisan'

he always stands when a lady enters or exits too

he is always clean, and keeps himself well-groomed

GQ magazine says "it's all about the details when dressing to impress"

he is the envy of GQ

when he is one on one with a lady

he never makes an appearance too soon or too late

he is always right on time 

he swears:

'coming late is rude and coming too early is not respectable for a gentleman of of my stature'

my really hard cock is all about making sure people enjoy themselves

he is selfless, though he delights in the pleasure of others

if he makes a mess, he always cleans up after himself

and if he is out when the weather gets wet, he fashionably dons a rain-jacket

Esquire magazine has a list of "things men should be able to do"

he is the paradigm of the "Esquire man"

ladies always compliment him

i am glad to have a really hard cock with great manners

thank you

it is cold and winter here

a fantastic lady friend of mine and i played a game on gchat.  i told her to transport me away from my screen, my cold feet, the chilly winter night, and this moment in time by using 2 words.   it began like this:

her: free
       food
me: hm good. i feel like im naked on the sidewalk with a box around me and a man just gave me his half-eaten hot dog, i look down to take a bite only to realize he left nothing but the bun.
sigh.
that man was a jerk.

this game quickly evolved/she is a muse perhaps

it's summertime, not really hot or anything, just a beautiful balmy day. the porch is grey and the paint chips off the ground. brick pillars support the roof hanging over the porch, brilliant white in the summer light. the sun emanates triangular specks of heaven on the chipping paint through vines crawling at a languid pace up the trellis. you sit calmly sipping your drink with a drip of perspiration running down your cheek, rocking leisurely on the porch swing. a warm glow surrounds the porch, the blue sky just barely visible through the latticed shadows cast on the wall. you breathe deeply, cut grass and earthy sweet flowers reach your nose. not a thought of anything reaches you, you are of the summer forever.

two lovers are blithely strolling amongst the firefly mirth. the air is electric - charged with the glowing chaos of thousands of creatures content to experience their short existence in full. there is a duality to this electric quality, the feeling of anxious expectation with a new lover. they pause, the warm night air sending a slight shiver up their spines. he sighs. the cicadas buzz and a slight breeze rustles the lush and full trees, nature whispers gently. she turns to him, 'doodley dee, let's forget our lives for a while, let's pack the mud and leave it in the summer sun, becoming baked dirt in the afternoon. we'll burn leaves with a magnifying glass in the hot summer sun and run barefoot in the grass.' he can't help but kiss her there in the moonlight and tall grass, her soft lips moist and perfect.

why i love you guys

winter surfing

i saw men that looked like seals in the dead of winter and i decided to join them

we paddle around and ride energy

you would not believe the pleasure we feel

even when you feel like your feet are something similar to ice

ice

what a cold thing

a cold thought

a cold image

cold

we look like seals in the water

seals look like dogs peaking their heads out of the ocean

therefore we look like  dogs

nah we are not dogs

well, maybe we are but that requires abstract thought as to what 'dog' can represent

it is sort of a human idiom

so no we aren't dogs

though i think dogs would be offended if they knew how we used the term 'dog' though not 'dawg'

they might think that is neat

a self-actualized dog might think 'this is offensive' when he hears someone called a dog because of the way they carry on

poor dog

i will not call people 'dogs' anymore

aural pleasure

yourstru.ly coming through with a video that makes the hairs on my neck stand up - beautiful!

morning benders with a the 'big echo orchestra'. it appears they succeeded.

or watch it here:

Yours Truly Presents: The Morning Benders "Excuses" from Yours Truly on Vimeo.

wow it is snowing

this is so neat

i am glad i came home

i am sitting next to my mother

and my sister

they are beautiful people

we are snowed in

my sister wears a red hat with flappy ears

and a big brim with a pink bathrobe

it is so ironic

she seethes anger at her hipster boy toy from williamsburg

he turned out to be less than wholesome

there were walrus's or i guess they are walri when plural

well, walri is underlined in red but i like it better than walrus's

it rolls off the lips

they were at the aquarium in new york

they were not happy to be trapped in the glass

i saw a youtube video of a walrus pleasuring itself orally

that was a non sequitor

i'm heartbroken and she wants to be in love

my mom is a great listener

ouch my eye really hurts

nah it's okay now

that was intense momentary pain

"help me to understand you. I think we need to try to let go."

that is sort of the same deal

but i don't know how to react to that

when my eye hurts i grasp it

itch it a little

and then everything is okay.

unfortunately i do not know how to itch my heart

or my brain 

this kind of pain sort of centers over my forehead maybe

and sometimes in my chest

it is more of a dull throb

but it does not make my face grimace like real pain

it makes me think about things a lot

i just erased the next line 4 times though i think i know how this will end

i was going to try to investigate how i feel

but i am pretty neutral right now

no one really enjoys reading about my feelings

and this seems so cliche

i fucking hate cliche

i am not depressed

i want my writing to be slightly sardonic, ideally humorous and not just sad and bleak and depressing

sometimes i think my only follower jenna thinks i'm depressed

but she knows better

i think

well, i'm still stuck on 'hello'

except, there was no 'hello'

instead you said

"so i minimized, and your eyes filled every empty space"

ya it still ended how i thought it would

a blog post for no one really

this is a poem or some thoughts

contained in a blog post

that is for no one really

and i will type it in here

in this box

like i am important

people will not comment nor see it ever

unless they accidentally get to this page

i am not sad

i am just honest

and there really is nothing wrong with that

i have posted cool things to check out but

then i realized that this is pretty pointless

when no one reads your blog

so now i write some things instead

like how a seal popped his head out

of the water

when i was surfing

and i thought

'oh god'

at first because i was scared

but then i realized he was a seal

and not a shark

or human terrorist ninja in scuba gear

which would be kinda sweet

but it wasn't so i was a little perturbed and kept my distance and caught a wave and it was so cold and i paddled back out and my hands were freezing and my body was tired and kind of heavy from wearing so much wetsuit stuff and for a second i felt really alone in the ocean and that's sort of scary even when you surf all the time and i looked up and the seal was gone

i didn't think of you while i surfed

i think

but i don't remember now