If we see each other

… once every two years and we fall in love for eighty-seven minutes each time, how is that remotely close to satisfaction? Carnal? Sure. Needs are demanding and irrepressible, and yes, that was a 1980′s excuse I just used… enjoy.  The sad part is, Max doesn’t hold a candle to this one and as the years go by and the man I used to know has become an independent and indeed handsome man that speaks his mind and now enjoys the better things in life as he is comfortable with working hard for his bread. To him, I am still the same hippie flake, maybe a better mother than he thought I’d be with the children we were supposed to have together… a matter of life and it’s twists and turns. If I had been a more supportive partner to him back then, I may not have to worry about my days after those eighty-seven minutes of blissful conversation, admiring the new things he has accomplished and the nagging thought of “how come he wouldn’t do this when we were together?” Then it happens, the awkward silence and the use of that vocabulary he has learned as his interactions with people expanded from that little room we used to stay in at his mother’s house, exploring each other with meticulous care. Every encounter starts like such, warm greeting and friendly banter, wandering aimlessly around a public place while discussing a thousand topics under fifteen minutes. The jump from there to the possibility of a try is swift and it never occurs to me that it will be over in no time, I never learn from the time before. If this does not border on desperation, then I do not know what’s wrong or right and that’s a scary thought. Maybe if my flaw is searching for love quietly and with a hopeful gleam in my eye, the possibility of happening in my life time is as real as the moments I enjoy, with people that enjoy me.

Blue Sky

You tried to make good
Hiding out in the neighbourhood
Getting by and it’s understood
There’s no time
Like the time before the flood
You get high to feel your love
It’s alright so you need the crutch
Step aside wonder what’s up
You close your eyes
You see you’ve missed so much
Bring on the blue sky
You can fly in your dreams
Floating by the black and white scenery
Take a drive where lovers leap
Only to arrive dead on your feet
The paint is peeling off
The hood of this old truck
As you drive into the West
Where the eye of God is sinking fast -Jason Collett, “Motor Motel Love Songs”

I listen to music sometimes…

I write lyrics down when they seem to be authored for me. Also, when I wake up blank, the prozac doing what’s supposed to and i’ts comfortably numb… we’re tired. Happy 17th Birthday, Wesley and drop the fucking cigarettes!

Things You Call Fate

I find it hard, hard to let go
And you are entitled to know
You have brought nothing else but bliss, a great deal of frustration, a voluntary occupation
driving me insane and off the wall
And we were free to choose each other
But now it seems like something other
So have you placed me where I stand?
We turned caring like a mother, afraid to lose each other
It got us this far
Now problems are:
I have no bags to pack, no suitcase waiting in the hall
You have no make-up, no stockings in my drawer
Oh, how did we forget? How could we forget?
It’s easy to learn if you never regret
When you live in paranoia and you know she’s got you, oh yeah
You can’t leave until you know the truth
So for months you’re going nowhere
until you seize the day and place yourself behind the steering wheel
Or you could end like you don’t want to, the opposite of what you planned to:
You can watch the ships when they’re abroad
Become a joke when people see you, cause it’s enough to please you
You got this far, step put of the car
I have no bags to pack, no suitcase waiting in the hall
You have no make-up, no stockings in my drawer
Oh, how did we forget? How could we forget?
It’s easy to learn if you never regret
We’ll never learn in the future, this is it, seemingly I am sure
I know we haven’t been together now
It wasn’t meant to be this way so we’ll give it days and days and we’ll try to make it easy now
Once I believed we could approach this, now I have faith placed in the things you call fate
In the things you call fate
In the things you call fate

-Sondre Lerche

An open and criptic memo…

Sadness is lonely, when others around you are as sad as they should be, you still feel alone. I want you to tap on my window, make me feel like you did a week ago. Just don’t bother, you are useless to me, actually. This is bullshit, I shouldn’t be feeling this way. It’s just another breeder with baggage that had some time once to sit there and listen. Just listen. I hate what you do, all of it, the laughter and the understanding; the maddening five minutes and a lifetime of regrets. You are not worth it, how dare you and thanks for the kicks. I got them too while I searched for your shadow. By my window, that flower you promised and the many times sneaking back wasn’t enough. I’ve known you for such a short amount time that I happen to be baffled by this behavior… on my part. I could get rid of you and your memory and in the meantime, all you will have is a bed. It’s yours and she has made sure it is also hers. Drowning slowly, could anyone else save him? Maybe with a please?

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Riding in trucks, with boys…

I want to be happy, smile all the time and give great advice. I wish I could enjoy Billy Joel like I used to, before I met wordpuppet and it all became serious. This isn’t a matter of life and death, nor the possibility of erasing that memory has ever crossed my mind -and this is what he thought, I so desperately wanted to sound smart, to make him think I was special and new, regardless of those pesky lies. It was eccentricity I was trying to sell, the security of a hitchhiker and the passion of a store-bought Bohemia… no one ever stuck and when I knew I could have been loved flaws and all, there wasn’t a single excuse fast enough to stop me from running scared. Listened to The Pixies on a loop and read Hafiz out loud, for six months I was truly eccentric, bordered on weird then it stopped. Woke up one morning early and drank coffee like the other one and I used to and smiled, gums and all. No one else can redeem me but me and alone. Now I’ve created a song list just for you and I thought how childish, then again I remember this date we had to play with lego’s so…

“Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.” -Hafiz

My funeral song…

On a string…

On a string…

On a string, I was held.
The way I move, can you tell?
My actions are orchestrated from above.
So I swing and I sway.
Wave my hand, kick my leg,
And it is always right with the music.

“Until all that swaying starts to make you sick…”

For a song I was bought,
Now I lie when I talk
With a careful eye on the cue card.
Onto a stage I was pushed,
With my sorrow well rehearsed.
So give me all your pity and your money, now (all of it)

“We used to think that sound was something pure…”

If I could act like
This was my real life,
And not some cage where I’ve been placed,
Well then, I could tell you
The truth like I used to
And not be afraid of sounding fake.

Now all anyone’s listening for are the mistakes!

(Ah, I’m sorry!)

(Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay)
1, 2, 3,
1, 2, 3!

In a house by myself,
I hear the ice start to melt,
And I’ll watch rooftops weep for the sunlight.
And I know what must change,
Fuck my face. Fuck my name,
They are brief and false advertisements…

…For a soul I don’t have.
Something true I have lacked
And spent my whole life trying to make up for.
But I found in a song
And in the people I love,
They will lift me up out of darkness.

And now my door, it stands open,
I’m inviting everyone in.
We’re gonna laugh,
We’re gonna drink until the morning comes.
That’s what we’re gonna to do…
Come on!! Come on!!

-False Advertising by Bright Eyes

So I have done very little with my life, stay at home and stop growing… mostly intellectually. My daughter’s this incredible lotto winning with numbers you were unsure of with this investment you’re proud of, put all of these eggs in that one tiny rubbermaid. I’m not tired anymore, well, it’s nighttime and sleep is as far as a decent country to live. For now it must be the little things, this is getting out of hand. The lives other people set out to live and meanwhile I must convince myself there’s plenty of time to do this AND the book AND possibly another child under marriage AND the “shop” (whatever the fuck that means!) and this. I want to keep writing, if nothing else gets done, let these flawed and naked words be your legacy. Hey, she may just understand all of it while experiencing none of this… breaking. Of hearts and spirit and the raw intellect of someone without the time to organize them. Yesterday I swore I would be better than most parents, I accomplished being better than mine. Felt so good, let her stay up until eight-thirty! And as far as friends is concerned, we took a vote and decided to watch a lot of movies instead. By the way, Pinno? I hope you have given up on High Fidelity, they end up together and he recognizes how he messed up. Top five reasons my ex-boyfriend should stop referring to this movie as a favorite:

1- He will never get it
2- He cannot listen to either Elvis Costello or Lou Reed
3- When we watched it together, he missed the ending
4- The similarities between the movie and our relationship are eerie
5- It’s MY favorite movie and we are no longer speaking, give me that memory back!

After reading all of this, can you believe I’m actually thirty years old? It isn’t as fun to act like a teenager, the heartbreak’s quite adult.