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[30 Mar 2006|08:15pm] |
sean spent a decent amount of time today removing the hair caught in my brush. and what was once buried under twisted layers of brown and copper and matte gold is stark naked and silver again. and i thought back to the last time it was exposed as such. i thought back to august and its humidity and feeling brave, and new and full.
(and now i am falling.suffocating.breaking and maybe this summer, full of promise in those waves. that they will be able to beat me back into that spotless, wave-polished, relaxed, positive individual)
and today was so, so nice.
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| and when it comes down to it, i am the summation of countless words, strewn throughout time |
[14 Feb 2006|07:46pm] |
i've been trying to find the place where this is natural. and maybe (just maybe) it will return with time.
i've started collecting moments again. always at night. tucked safely into the warmth of new acquaintances and the wooden chairs with richly colored embroidered cushions. observing a matte, platinum grey ring glowing with bands of orange in the candle's light. and next to me, with his beautiful curls and honest eyes, collared shirt casually untucked, thin stomach swollen with contentment. dissolving myself in the details and beauty, warm and complacent and on.my.way.
i wish i had these endless words.
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[03 Feb 2006|09:09pm] |
i remember when this empty box used to be reassuring. i remember my boldness as i typed and typed endlessly, mindtofingerstokeystoyou. and now i wonder why i bother. why i ever thought my words worth breathing life into. i suppose at one time or another, they served as a therapy of sorts and that made sense (made me make sense). but now i am happy(in.love), learning(loving.knowledge) and growing more and more distant from the endless string of beautiful words, phrases tugged through my mind (hand over hand). and oh how i love that my rules only apply to me.
that person, that older me that summoned up love for everything but another committed, like-minded male (noneexisted) has been swallowed.buried.hidden. and it's not to say that secretly, i don't still muse about how beautiful his soft expanse of skin is, don't still soak up the details of drooping eyelids with arcing eyelashes or wish to fall in love with all of life.at.once.always. that's not to say that i don't miss laughing moments with the perfect soundtrack and days that i feel so happy, i find myself without words, and plucking word after word to delicately place or violently slam them into something which preserves.
(and.i.don't.know.who.i.am.explaining.myself.to)
and so it goes. so when i departed my building this morning, i nearly started crying because the moisture suspended in the air smelled like california without the salt, thought about green, vibrant springs riding bikes along a trail in georgia, missed summer and bare legs and skirts and naked feet in the sticky grass. (and, secretly, i miss not knowing and longing and longing and finding beauty in imagining his soft fingertips dancing on my skin).
i miss you (collectively).
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| then i hang like a star (fucking glow in the dark) |
[12 Sep 2004|11:08pm] |
my clock has been blinking, 2 hours and 26 minutes in the past for nearly a month now. but what's the point in telling it i already know the story? no one likes a ruined ending anyway. just let it continue living a lie. life is always more beautiful that way.
limbs stretched out. (you're so beautiful like this). "lean your head back until you can't see the ground." swimming in this feeling, looking up at the sky. glowing green clouds my very own shimmering moon. and what's real when everything blends into itself? (the comfort of hugs when i'd like to be leaving to something better).
for now, i arrive wrapped between thick bundles of crisp, white paper, stars floating in my skies. but soon it will be me, arriving wrapped in a soft creme. and everything will be softer and not so concrete.
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[06 Sep 2004|12:36am] |
it smells like fall and somehow this seems all too familiar. yet not as foreign this time around. and i miss palms pressed together, fingers anchoring. but maybe it will come with time. and the beauty of these fall nights will come once again with better intentions.
i'd forgotten what it felt like to fall asleep with a smile on my face.
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| another night slips away |
[23 Aug 2004|07:25pm] |
i opened my bag to the overwhelming smell of campfire, smoke dissipating in my mind. and somehow, these 3 days have become 3 weeks and i don't know how i thought i could ever leave this. the beauty of the innocent, palms pressed together lightly in the dark. i can see the glow in your eyes, face illuminated for that split second before the bouncing orbs fade into the darkness (that endless murky puddle).
and looking at your picture makes my heart stop. (i wonder what you'd look like if you smiled.)
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| apocalypse please |
[17 Aug 2004|12:09am] |
long legs stretching into oblivion. soft kisses stolen under a starless sky. black cased in blue in black. when do these layers cease to encase my heart? half the world shrouded in shadow, melting into the soft golden blur. (break this sky open and offer it to me, cupped in the palm of your hand)
and you don't know how you inspire me so. translucency held in place delicately with strands of silver. coppers glowing in the limelight. and your laughing makes me die inside because i don't ever want to leave this. i don't want to leave happiness.
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| i watch the ice melt on the glass |
[13 Aug 2004|11:54pm] |
listening to these songs on repeat, i'm flooded with an empty sort of nostalgia. filled with nondescript grey clouds and the starbucks drive-thru. days of believing in the impossible and somehow feeling absolutely nothing because i knew i was trying to live my own hallucinations. (back when i actually had words for being a void -- being devoid. of everything.)
and all i want is something that will make me exist (what is it with me and always wanting?) something to fill me up and bring color to days driving back on that endless highway, windows down, and the strip looming, lackluster and lifeless, silhouetted by the humidity of those dusty purple clouds.
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| don't wake me, i plan on sleeping in |
[04 Aug 2004|12:32am] |
i look at myself, smiling. remembering being wrapped in your arms (i miss that snug fit). falling asleep, a part of you with me. staring at you sideways and wanting so much to steal that kiss. tracing your skin, your scars. grey has always been one of my favorite colors. and this is what i get with an eye for details. eclectic moments, useless facts, and an unending smile.
(too bad i'll never see you again).
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| your hands, they move like waves (over me) |
[01 Aug 2004|12:37am] |
the moon is illuminating the sky. (illuminating my intentions? i've always been good at that). my intentions, reflected in his eyes. deep brown, on light brown on white drowning in the chords, dripping across the silver slivers, resonating. a warm, breathing resin, coating the inside of my eyelids. (you.are.my.inspiration). shivering inside my bones. because, what is perfection? what are you?
and these nights can't possibly exist. temporal limbo. suspension in this aqueous atmosphere. gel me to this sky, these rolling tides, and those dirt roads, stretching forever in my mind. suffocation. and somehow i feel free.
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| somehow the time flies by |
[04 Jun 2004|09:26pm] |
a day so infectious. strange dreams about his endless beauty and i don't know why. woke to a brilliant sun and let myself melt into it (my flowing golden skin). retreated to a cool bath, peony bubbles, and the beautiful dream-like state of confused time. and later, driving along, glowing white light mocking me (in three weeks, i'll replace your deserts with dazzling blue water. and i couldn't be more thankful). a day like so many gone and so many to come, feet simmering across the sunny driveway, seeping into the darkened cracks, pacing hungrily toward the haven of bright green grass.
sunscreen and spray 'n wash are two of my favorite 'natural' scents. the smell of summer and the smell of purity, cleanliness, and new beginnings.
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| would you take me where you're going? |
[12 May 2004|10:22pm] |
there's a boy in my scuba class. the only one even close in age to me. and i looked at him while the class was standing in the shallow end, his mask clutched between his fingers, skin smooth and pale (eerily so in an opaque sense) and his soft blue green eyes were glowing with a matte finish. it was perfect.
and today i was so blissfully happy. and i realized it was genuine. and that made it even better.
skin so soft, and i want to remain forever, running my fingers over the molded curves and those lovely imperfections (that's where perfection lies). and lexsea is entirely right. it's about superficiality these days. (still waiting for a happy medium).
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[06 May 2004|08:48pm] |
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driving home from my history a.p. study session (test is tomorrow), listening to one of my "songs to feel infinite to". and when the music swelled and the vocals let loose in a calming, exposed, free-spirited sort of way, i cried. because it felt like the right thing to do. and my body shook a little as the lights started to glow brighter through my few tears. and all i wanted was to drive along forever, crying peacefully, because that's all there seems to be right now. i'm waiting for my break. waiting to breathe. so close.
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| sleeping in |
[01 May 2004|11:19pm] |
i want to imagine. and believe.
three perfect bulges of vertebrae, skin pulled taut, wingtips jutting from beneath the thin layer of cream. that lovely hair, running through your long fingers, capped with rounded tips.
"celery rules" temporarily smeared on my window. forever etched in my heart.
the water looks so clear now, and the fish and plant and plastic stones all seem to be glowing. but maybe it's just because it's spring.
and he can't seem to catch directions. slow on the go. "i'm tired!" with that mess of black hair, and long ebony eyelashes lazily closing and opening, a motion soothing in its rhythmic nature. like the waves of the ocean, swelling in this calm. drowning in his navy blue.
and i'd rather accept this as reality. but what are we left with?
and this is who i am. a collection of other people's details. an absorber of daily nuances. composing an endless novel in my head (the lady outside the gas station, black vinyl jacket, hands curled around a 99 cent cup of coffee, hair a shadeless mousy color, plain and frizzy from the elements, but lips messily smothered in a rich mahogany brown shade of lipstick, still glossy from recent application. an effort on behalf of the half lost to feel beauty? she'd make such a great character). a novel with the obligatory disclaimer, "all similarities to people alive or deceased are merely coincidental". everyone has a lie. how many people will i encounter in life that will never know i spent time drowning in, and drinking up their details?
my best thoughts aren't coherent. one day, i'll stay up until the sunrise.
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| contemplating |
[28 Apr 2004|03:52pm] |
it seems unnatural to listen to anything besides remember maine on my iPod. and i'm so nostalgic. humans make the best pillows (a heart beat makes the best metronome). wedged comfortably between you and the wall, floor, bench, tan on white on white on white. miles of endless blue. and this is the best place for memories. "who is this?". "remember maine. they're great, aren't they?". trying so hard to forget the stories. let you reinvent yourself. but none of it matters. wedged comfortably between me, and the the sky, table, bench, tan on black on black on black. dripping with golden highlights. here's to warmth and nostaligia and dying inside under a perfect sky.
and i'm falling in love. (i wish it was specific).
electric acoustics and sculptured faces. scars. comfiness in coarse hair. i told myself this would never happen again. only this time, i need not fear execution. at least there's still something to believe in.
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| the trees are getting harder to climb |
[24 Apr 2004|11:02pm] |
i just got back from hawaii, late monday night. and everything since then has been a whirlwind of memories and make-up work and pretending i'm anywhere (everywhere) but here. and the whole trip seems distant and dream-like and cloudy and that just kills me.
it felt like home there. i seem to have an affinity with islands. but every moment seemed vaguely familiar, not as though i was re-experiencing something; it was as though it was just a part of me, ingrained, salt water in my veins and driftwood bones. the waves and currents were welcoming me back as i surrendered to subordinancy. nights with the balcony door open, music and drums and laughing floating through on the breeze. and i realized i can't live without this.
(can't i have a forever?)
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| all i've got to pull me through |
[12 Apr 2004|05:59pm] |
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i feel like running to the middle of an expansive grass area, as the sun is setting, but still quite bright, and laughing and squinting my eyes, seeing the sun trying to filter through my eyelashes before kissing someone beautiful lightly on the lips.
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[09 Apr 2004|11:47pm] |
(i'm such a romantic)
sinking deeper beneath warm, peach-scented bubbles. i can't help but watch the flame reflecting its light on my arm, skin glowing orangish brown. running my fingertips lightly across my knees, still soft and dry. close my eyes (you're so soft). compose letters in my head.
dear willyum,
so, you made it.
i love falling into the familiarity, executing the motions. knowing i run this machine.
it's always nice to find something new in someone.
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| in this gaudy apartment complex |
[08 Apr 2004|12:09am] |
i was just watching some late-night tv when an ad came on, advertising free bibles for easter, a la the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints. i recall seeing many such ads as a child, unaware they were promoting a religion i would eventually become ridiculously acquainted with for someone who is not affiliated with mormonism in the least. but i started thinking of the moment as a scene in a book. eclectic, cynical character (i envisioned them as being male. maybe a little too much salinger or something) sees the ad and calls the toll-free number for their free copy of the bible. and they narrate this experience, explaining how they read out of it all the time, not to help them find god or anything, but because it makes the room stop spinning or something. i guess sometimes i'm a little too creative for my own good.
(in my attempt to be more light-hearted, i started writing a paragraph about all my preparatory shopping for hawaii, but it just sounded superficial and materialistic instead, so i deleted it).
goodnight, kids.
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[06 Apr 2004|11:34pm] |
no ljcut for you! kidnapped.
1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:
Eye contact is avoided. Documents are scrutinized upside...
2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
Nothing. My arm doesn't go that far. But if it did, it'd hit the wall.
3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?
A random 10 minutes of The Osbournes, though generally, I don't watch TV.
4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what time it is:
11:20 PM
5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
11:36 PM
6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Nothing.
7: When did you last step outside? what were you doing?
Going to/from the mall. I was shopping (crazy, I know).
8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?
http://www.dictionary.com/ (Working on my research paper).
9: What are you wearing?
Um. Black bra and black underwear. *Cringes* I think I should've lied on that one.
10: Did you dream last night?
Yes.
11: When did you last laugh?
Some time today, I'm sure.
12: What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Photos of friends, camp, The Creation of Adam, and some artsy photos.
13: Seen anything weird lately?
I can't THINK of anything..
14: What do you think of this quiz?
More interesting than most I've read.
15: What is the last film you saw?
Beginning of The Believer. Last full-length was Yours, Mine and Ours.
16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?
My college education!
17: Tell me something about you that I don't know:
Shopping at Banana Republic reminds me of Lexsea.
18: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Remove intolerance.
19: Do you like to dance?
If I'm in the right mood, totally.
20: George Bush: is he a power-crazy nutcase or some one who is finally doing something that has needed to be done for years?
Neither. I'm not fond of the man, nor a majority of his policies. But he's not entirely crazy.
21a: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Addie Virginia. Maybe.
21b: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Asher, or Gabe. Kevin Grayson? All these weird names.
22: Would you ever consider living abroad?
Depends on the location.
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holdenismyhero's journal