You'll thank me when the revolution comes.

I recently discovered that in Vedic/sidereal astrology I am a quadruple Aries. With Leo ascendant. Yeah. Did I mention that I'm an only child? And the center of the universe? And massive amounts of energy are constantly spiraling into and out of my head through these great damn horns? This explains so much. Not the least of which are the perpetually laughable and absurd states of my bank account and love life. I have officially stopped paying any sort of attention to either of those because I AM TOO BUSY TRANSFORMING ENERGY THROUGH MY HUMAN BIOCIRCUITRY.

On being a Cassandra to myself

It is hard to write about this without sounding crazy, but it seems important to put it out there so other people might feel less crazy. Clicky.

And just so we're clear, you will owe me $100 when you get married.

This is the first time in 9 years that I have forgotten your birthday.

Time is marked by forgetting. (Or is it remembering? I forget...)

Happy belated birthday, Christopher Paul Giguere. Thanks for saving my life and stuff.

i can't get enough e.e. cummings lately

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
by E. E. Cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

your eyes put magnets along my spine, making me move in unexpected directions

Things that make me cry in my cubicle. Part IX.

Andrew Bird playing in a church.

a secret in 4 parts

1.1 here's the secret
in your absence my love turns into green apples
i imagine eating them with you
under the trees

2.1 i left the bar when it was raining
down the stairs, into the night
except...
everything turned into poetry
tom waits was playing
i smoked under the christmas lights
thinking about unrequited love

3.1 here's the secret
i don't miss you anymore

2.2 it's been raining since you left

1.2 there are no apples

4.1 i don't miss you anymore

2.3 um, I don't even know you?

0.1 when i am with you, the air i breath turns into bone

3.1.1 but...

2.4 the romantic and the cynic have been battling since we met
even the cynic wants to throw the game
lose spectacularly

0.2 we all carry the past within us
in the crook of our dendrites
in the lines of our palms
in our bones

1.3 here's the secret
there are apples when you touch me

4.1.1 i will always miss you

4.2 you understand the beauty of the perfect moment

2.5 i loved you at first sight (more or less)

2.5.1 a secret i try to keep from myself

3.2 i loved you when you told me "this is what a pecan a tree smells like

4.3 i loved you at first sight (more or less)

1.4 i will never know when I first loved you

0.3 everything turns into the beating of blood
everything turns into poetry
everything turns

0.4 here's the not-very-well-kept secret
I confuse dreams with reality

0.4.1 because i am human

1.5 thank you

4.4 thank you

Really?

I don't know why your name still beats in my brain. Maybe I should stop fighting it?

Almost

It's been so long since I've seen you, I almost don't miss you any more.

Almost.

we call each other

we call each other
we call each other

i stood on the edge of the deck
toes wiggling in the darkness
and my phone died
or rather
it became
and i laid on my back
looking into the night sky
(or what i could i see of it from the southwest edge of the city)
feeling my heart beat in my chest
the length of my bones
the forest of my nervous system
thinking of you and your flashlight
walking home
and...
and..
and.
and there is no end to this
we are forever becoming

i know you understand
(more than anyone)

unfinished

we are weightless in the summer
feet barely touching the earth
toes tracing patterns in the dirt
heat-light-sun
burning the intricacies we've fixed
between the past and the present
we're restless (you see)
time is restless
memories are restless
the upturned soil and dust in our eyes
clouds nothing
we're not afraid of our ghosts anymore
we're not afraid of our roots
let the old seep into the new
let us be saturated with it
let us rupture
it is only at the unfinished places
that we can break

oh well

i always liked you best when your eyes were closed
which was, in retrospect, an obvious warning sign