l o n g i n g f o r a l i f e i n s u l a t e d f r o m e v e r y t h i n g e l s e
Always looking out the window,
really just here.
The hard part about publishing a public journal is practicing restraint. There just has to be a rule about telling everyone about yourself; a protocol on self-indulgence; a ceiling that marks an
entry as 'this is too much, delete it.'
Boulevard Avenue is
Editor's Choice @
Promise it to the wind,
write it on water, and
hope someone will remember.
"I want to record how the world comes at me, because I think it is indicative of the way it comes at everyone." (Phillip Lopate)
Love thy neighbors,
or at least try.
One of these days I will arson my stupid neighbors to death. Nothing like a wall of flame to induce an infectious wave of panic. I've thought of poison, but there there are too many mouths
to stuff it into. It's not like how it was in provinces of old, where people drank from a communal stream. My neighbors drink Coke, and tap water. No, I'm good with fire. Fire is cool.
Notwithstanding Me
The last person you want to confide in is the guy in the mirror. When you confess, he's not interested; he knows it already, whatever it is. When you confess anyway, he gets bored and
shoots you accusing looks: you're being melodramatic. When you close your eyes, he's gone, but he's really there, seeing you for the sham that you are. When you turn the other cheek, you
see exactly that cheek, and not the other one. When you so don't care for his approval, he can't even begin to feel sorry for you. When you do feel sorry, he magnifies your self-shame. When
you approve of yourself, he grins, because by then only he is approving of you. When you're so into yourself, he mimics every move you make, and then you notice he's faking it. Living with
a shadow is better: you at least don't have an image and likeness of you sneering.
I figured, lying on the bed, my head dangling on one edge, seeing the carpet and all the clutter on it upsidedown, that if I put all the vitamins in one drawer and my scattered books and readings in another, and then stashed the plastic wrappers and trash in a bag near the door, and threw the old news papers downstairs, and ball up the soiled clothes and put them away, that I could finally vacuum the carpet. The floor is pulling down (or is it up?) blood from my body so most of it are now in my head, and as I blink and begin to see white spots in the air, common sense has seeped into me as well: I have to first ask the cats to please get off the books, the readings, the soiled clothes, the newspapers, and for them to please sleep the day somewhere else. As soon as I get up, I'm going to ball them up and throw them all downstairs. But then everything is turning white, and my head hurts.
Posted at 11:29 am by Ayen
franz June 10, 2005 12:38 AM PDT throw them away. they have nine lives anyway. :lol:
hera June 7, 2005 10:36 AM PDT surely you have to start with something.
and maybe the great idea about how to clean my room could also come with blood rushing to my head.
marian June 6, 2005 07:17 PM PDT general cleaning na ito! ako rin, my room badly needs it. pero nakakatamad e. and i get all sentimental when mulling over what stuff i should throw out.
