11.01.07
1:42 p.m.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
A week's [more or less] worth of thinking.
I decided not to rip anymore pages out of this.
I hate: my freckles, my red face at extreme temperatures, my hips, my chin. I hate when people don't look me in my eyes. When they're not looking at me in the eyes, they're looking at all of the things I don't want them to look at. Eyes speak more than mouths.
I saw him again today. I wonder if he remembers me. I'm pretty sure he does. Every time I look at him, I see his dad. I see myself walking into the church that day and hugging him and saying, "I'm so sorry." And Rachel. I tried to hold it together for her. As soon as I hugged her, I lost it. She told me that it was okay. She said, "I just have no more tears left to cry."
I'm going to die during the winter. It could be next month or in 60 years, but when I die, it will be in the winter.
Brain spill. I found him for her. How fucking great is that. Don't they know this is a really bad idea?
"You know that's the only reason that it didn't work out, right?" Yeah, you're right.
Later:
I kind of want to punch him in the face.
Why can't I cook anything? Everything I make, even when I follow the recipe exactly, turns out fucking shitty. Or just mediocre. What a waste.
I hate: my freckles, my red face at extreme temperatures, my hips, my chin. I hate when people don't look me in my eyes. When they're not looking at me in the eyes, they're looking at all of the things I don't want them to look at. Eyes speak more than mouths.
I saw him again today. I wonder if he remembers me. I'm pretty sure he does. Every time I look at him, I see his dad. I see myself walking into the church that day and hugging him and saying, "I'm so sorry." And Rachel. I tried to hold it together for her. As soon as I hugged her, I lost it. She told me that it was okay. She said, "I just have no more tears left to cry."
I'm going to die during the winter. It could be next month or in 60 years, but when I die, it will be in the winter.
Brain spill. I found him for her. How fucking great is that. Don't they know this is a really bad idea?
"You know that's the only reason that it didn't work out, right?" Yeah, you're right.
Later:
I kind of want to punch him in the face.
Why can't I cook anything? Everything I make, even when I follow the recipe exactly, turns out fucking shitty. Or just mediocre. What a waste.
then and now
I'm sick of crying
Crying must be sick of me
No more disasters
I'm sick of trying
Trying must be sick of me
Had it and lost it
Crying must be sick of me
No more disasters
I'm sick of trying
Trying must be sick of me
Had it and lost it
endless mike & the beagle club play in the aeroplane over the sea.
King Of Carrot Flowers Part 1 [MP3]
King Of Carrot Flowers Part 2 & 3 [MP3]
In The Aeroplane Over The Sea [MP3]
Two-Headed Boy [MP3]
The Fool [MP3]
Holland, 1945 [MP3]
Communist Daughter [MP3]
Oh Comely [MP3]
Ghost [MP3]
Untitled [MP3]
Two-Headed Boy Part 2 [MP3]
Recorded live -- October 30th, 2007 at The Mr. Roboto Project.
King Of Carrot Flowers Part 2 & 3 [MP3]
In The Aeroplane Over The Sea [MP3]
Two-Headed Boy [MP3]
The Fool [MP3]
Holland, 1945 [MP3]
Communist Daughter [MP3]
Oh Comely [MP3]
Ghost [MP3]
Untitled [MP3]
Two-Headed Boy Part 2 [MP3]
Recorded live -- October 30th, 2007 at The Mr. Roboto Project.
Living Alone by H. Donald Cabinet
Formerly charming, the ramshackle caulking of ancient windows has rendered my apartment almost uninhabitable. Air, as it is forced, is delivered in paltry amounts. And tepid. I unwillingly unfurl my mummy-style sleeping bag.
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