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| Dec 8, 2009 |
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You will forgive me for talking about myself
with the same words I use
to talk about you? such as: Our marriage isn’t working;
such as: You have [beautiful] hair. |
| posted by evey @ 6:25 PM |
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| Dec 5, 2009 |
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Writing always from so far away. And in my white blouse, squirting this plastic, neon gun at you.
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| posted by evey @ 6:50 AM |
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| Oct 9, 2009 |
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| She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself. |
| posted by evey @ 6:37 PM |
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| Aug 26, 2009 |
| likeamermaid |
i won't even try to pretend that didn't hurt. my heart caught in my throat and i thought finally some light for this tunnel. but i won't be bitter or spew regret over trying to befriend and connect and love the only way i know how. it's a lonely road, finding strength in being true to myself. it feels like a booby prize.
i guess the boards go back on the windows and sheets to ward off the dust. people choose their orbits and life somewhere, here or there, goes on. it's so hard. i turned off my tracker cause i don't want to know anymore how long it's been since you last even looked. two days waking up to that is enough.
there is so much on the tip of my tongue but i see my thoughts about you as being a risk, a fuel to the fire. i'm not looking for a gun in my back but i must clear this one thing up in response to a few things you said to me last week. i have a wonderful woman in my life that i love more than life itself. she is beautiful, engaging, giving, intelligent, fair, sexy, adorable and interesting. you've met her so you must have glimpsed some of that. the loudest knock from your goodbye letter said something about never filling her shoes.
my point in saying this is that she's always been that way to me. she's always been her, you've always been you and never at any time did those things have much to do with one another. not when i loved you, and i did love you. not when we swept past the verge or when we reminisced or in what i thought was the process of building a meaningful and lasting relationship. there was always room. i didn't handle this very well the first year i was in new york but i didn't really know any better.
i can relate to the one you want to be with being with another. but in all seriousness you never asked me for more. for all the times you've said i awakened the sleeping spirit in you, well you've barely fought to keep me close. right up until these last few days i would have said that the month we knew each other in florida was another time. you another person. i held that month on a pedestal without really pushing myself to understand why.
looking back i can see how i have changed and how in the realm of us you've stayed pretty much the same. you want me in your life as much as i can be. that's nice but it's limiting and if we stray from a path of perfection everything implodes. the merry go round effect basically. could i have given more? yes. done it different? yes. but how and what? that's where you come in and where you've never gone. all the times i've ever put my heart in taking us to the next level it's been rebuffed. that's one big hunk of fact.
it's by design is what i realize. i'm perfect for you because i do excite you and inspire and you do the exact same thing for me. a muse for a muse, that kind of symmetry is easy to see. but i'm also safe and this i know you will never admit. i am so safe for you to fill with your wanting because oops i have a girlfriend. i am so tired of you using her as an excuse because i never have. i gave you access and opportunity and parts of myself saved special for you. sometimes i think you may be incapable of actually valuing me or what i try to offer.
god i remember you told me, go to new york. i love you but i want you to be happy. i was so amazed by that kind of sacrifice. no matter where it came from thank you because i needed the support. at the time i was so young and scared of what love would be. but that defining moment probably wasn't as true as i took it to be. from experience i now know what it feel likes to be invested in unconditionally.
that was the first major thing i trusted about you, that you were unconditionally invested in my happiness. it's why i feel so disrespected now because i followed suit. for real. it's like a bomb, a world turned upside down. the fucking irony. i love you more than you want to love me. i am invested in you more than you want to be invested in me. i've never been faking it or stringing you along. i never knew i had the option.
i'm sorry a conversation caused you to put an end to everything. it's difficult to accept that premise but i do believe that a true exchange between people can bore a great beginning so really i have no choice. the past will always be there. knowing what i feel like i do, it's actually quite insane of me to even expect this to work out. i offer creative fun and you are offended. i offer my deepest thoughts you turn combative and angry. i offer love and poetry and you hold me at a distance. maybe that makes sense to you. i dunno.
want, by the way, is something you should get away from. need. need is your key. if you intend to focus on yourself thinking about everything in terms of need instead of want is a guaranteed way to new insight and solutions.
i fail to see the reason why you won't just say i can handle this and this and not that and that. we can talk about this and this, but i would prefer if we not touch on that or that. i suspect it's because admitting you have limits would come too close to admitting other things. something like that. when i said that i understood the other day i meant that i get that you don't have a place for me in your life. the way you've been acting is the way you tell me without having to be accountable for actually telling me. i get it.
so as much as i can, i will let you rise and fade as you wish. |
| posted by evey @ 12:51 AM |
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| Aug 23, 2009 |
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| well... understood. |
| posted by evey @ 11:32 PM |
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| Aug 20, 2009 |
| logo in progress |
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| posted by evey @ 1:09 AM |
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| Aug 18, 2009 |
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letting go of the straini'll fight - wilco back against the wall - cage the elephant you - atmosphere wrestlers - hot chip great expectations - gaslight anthem animal - mike snow heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs |
| posted by evey @ 3:34 PM |
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| Aug 14, 2009 |
| pavement |
you tasted of a memory from the very first time. my face in a picture called you and i thought... yes! you must be mine. i'll come collect you right away. every word i read like a reminder, a path to a place previously grown. maybe you are just some kind of nostalgic terrorist. i dunno.
and it smells so achingly wonderful that i don't smell it anymore, i see it. constantly prepared to be wherever you need me. and it looks so beautiful that i've lost sight, now i'm left with my feelings. a ruby, all scratched and chafed. trenched, boiling, god damn angry.
sometimes we are so plugged into one another. thank god for weird songs from the 80's or i'd have no way to shine a light. how can you be so immobile? how can you not fight? how does the poetry proclaim so much sense under such yellowed semblance? i'm turning around and around to avoid going out the door cause i know, i've been out there before. though it's boring to just make you want me.
let me be that dude from 'pretty woman' for a second... welcome to hollywood. everybody comes to hollywood got a dream. what's your dream? what's your dream? ay mister! ay! what's your dream?
this is the moment i regret the audience of one. this is the moment of panic. i recognize the stream and my drunk ass not knowing what to do. splashing onto concrete like a fool. i'm not signing off. i'm not going to ride off into the sunset with a donkey full of forever hopeless. the grass spreads the earth in search of us but you've got that thing where your feet get stuck.
your enemy is stronger than me. and for serious, i am as strong as can be. |
| posted by evey @ 10:19 AM |
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| Aug 13, 2009 |
| retrospective |
i don't normally use this computer for much more than downloading/mixing/listening to music but i use to so there are a lot of pictures from over the years. i thought i would share some i don't think i ever put in my flickr.
 me being silly and high.  this is what it looks outside of my window when the sun is going down.  my poor painting stuck next to a vibrating penis.
 reject photo from the mermaid parade.
 what the living room looked like last fall right after we started sleeping down here. |
| posted by evey @ 4:10 PM |
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| 6 days and the things i had to say |
my sister's 22nd birthday was a few days ago. most people don't know i even have siblings and in a way i don't. she looks like a porcelain doll version of my mother. my mom is kinda brown and yellow from the smoke and her forays into dementia. the last time i saw her, my mother that is, she had grown her scraggly grey hair out past her shoulders. visits with her are like a once a year thing so the impact of time strikes hard. her insides are catching up with her. i can remember the exact year she let go. 2003. i was happy cause i thought she'd finally roll up and die.
the royalty of nature. damp summer mornings. the songs were for that. i missed the meteor shower thing. the perseids. my thoughts were blooming that night, i recall. writing, and every part of my normal life, seemed to be riddled with jinx. if i ate for pleasure rather than for necessity she might die. if i watch weeds without her she might die. crazy i know but that kind of thing runs deep within me and i can't find the control to ignore it.
the fish. every day he'd look dead. motionless. floating about. this time it wasn't a joke. i tapped on the glass like always but he was just gone, white around the gills. all pipes lead to the ocean. r.i.p george
when will the mixes begin? if i give this song to you what will you give back to me? i'm really into elton john lately and i've got no good explanation. a girl i once knew was disney obsessed and she dragged me to see the lion king 4 fucking times. i actually downloaded the circle of life song. with all this morality flying around i figured it couldn't hurt. |
| posted by evey @ 8:06 AM |
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| Aug 7, 2009 |
| project |
i cut up magazine pages into strips.
 rolled them up into tubes.  an hour's worth of tubes. it takes awhile.  then i rolled the tubes into little rings.  and soon this big white bulletin board will have it's borders covered thanks to paper i was going to throw away and some serious amounts of glue. :)  |
| posted by evey @ 7:01 AM |
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| i feel like this |
 probably cause it is friday. for the past few months i've been living sort of backwards. most people run around and complete lists all week and try and savor the weekend for rest but not me. somewhere along the line i started packing the weekends with tasks and now i can't seem to stop. do you make lists? i do, but i am starting to think it's unhealthy because i've realized that half of the time they only give me a false sense of control and not much else.
ignore me. i'm just bitter because it is 3:30 am and by the time the world wakes up i will be too drunk on tired to do much of anything. |
| posted by evey @ 3:26 AM |
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the moon, at least to me, is impossible to photograph. i wish i could have captured it tonight. well i feel like a stupid adult but i'll ask anyway, does it look the same everywhere? the hue was a splendid simmering honey.
i'm made of stars, but isn't everyone? i am made of my mother who may or may not of tried enough but none the less failed. my father who i can thank for the facial features most people like about me. i'm made of the girl who was my best friend all through grade school until i gained 40 pounds one summer and the boy i made fun of everyday who probably doesn't even remember my name. i had a crush on one of the ugliest teachers in school and i still don't understand why. he taught me spanish so i suppose he's also in there somewhere.
i'm made of kindness and certain respects. my happiest trinkets involve pride and togetherness. this family adopted me for a few years and laid a ground in me. they gave me a normal childhood and it remains in me, strong, here for me to pass on to my own. pieces of me are heavy, quite dense and marbled. as i try to make them smaller my elements will only grow stronger.
some pieces are gone. my uncle who died that new years eve took a chunk. someday down the road, like pretty much right now, we would have been good influences on one another. he would have shared my odd addiction to the internet. i gave my virginity away to a lot of people, when i was a bad girl that was my favorite lie. oh i've never done this before. turns out i saved the important stuff for the right person, go figure.
this blog is the only thing i am comfortable drudging up the past for. anyway, despite all of those things, i have moments of brilliant control. i do not lack fire. that's my element. i'm still struggling to use it properly. sometimes i fear the fall of time. if i died tonight i would regret and miss and mourn but somehow i'd smile because i did get some seriously good shit out of this soul.
i was thinking the other day about what a second meeting would be like. my idea is we meet in a park, some kind of wide open space. we wave from a distance and then we replace our seeing glasses with sunglasses. spend the hole day sort of blind. we'd have to spend our day like a michael gondry movie. it's not good to let all of the dreams float out like air from cracked tires.
disguises. i don't wear the same one everyday. i just don't get naked a lot. if we are looking for a problem that would be it. i want to let more people in but i can only seem to do that in the realm of black or white. it's all or i'll do my best to keep this up which eventually turns to nothing. this was a major sad point when you were here and when you were gone. i want to have bunches of roommates. it's like my dream relationship environment. anyway i suppose i disguise my solitude away. it works in a twisted way.
do you see us on a particular path?
i cannot be one sound or speak one word. i am flighty. all bird. i make the sounds of rope, that tight stretched sound they make when they are holding the dock to the boat. cogs. locks being opened. jimi hendrix, famously undone. i must have the tastes of love. warm condensed breath. the salt of myself buried in neck. but if we are being practical i will say strawberries. perfectly ripe, purely organic strawberries. that is a taste i would never tire of.
i wouldn't want a song if death were coming. probably because i always imagine i'll be suffering under stories of water or lying in a ditch somewhere. i can't imagine the event without panic, and when i panic i want complete silence. i need quiet to deal with my insides.
there is always more to be written. two days ago i thought i could never write again, never find the spark. often i am silly.
we are boats, you and i. |
| posted by evey @ 3:25 AM |
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| finally finished |
most of this is a big fluffy lie but i think i deserve an A. ewww... capital letters.
“Poetry is a creative form of expression using words like a painter uses a paintbrush.” The sum of what I feel poetry is remains true to my original statement. Through my course readings I have come closer to the understanding of the many elements of prose and at times my mind is just overblown. Poetry is a never ending cycle of creativity and expression and voice. It’s not just the paintbrush or the art, not the people who see the art or the looks on their faces, not the poet or the poet’s mother or the guy who walks the poet’s dog. It’s every single one of those things weaved together.
Surprisingly, interpreting the poems in the imagery section was the most difficult assignment for me but also the most rewarding. Up until this point I had not read any of the poems out loud. After I got over the sound of my own voice repeating the lines I found the experience liberating. Reading at my own pace allowed me to feel part of the poet’s creativity and in essence enabled me to become something of a spoken word poet myself. This new, deeper connection magnified the sense of imagery in lines like, “Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones, Are sharpening scythes.” (1-2, Toomer) At the start of this class, I was worried I wouldn’t get the rush I’ve felt upon hearing spoken word performed in a club but words on a flat piece of paper turned out to be anything but flat.
The poet’s every nuance is not so elusive to me anymore and it’s actually exciting to search for similes or persona in poetry now. I feel as though I have a tiny piece of a map and the more poetry I read the more the map grows. Having to analyze two poems a week for the last month has been eye opening. I will definitely read poetry outside of class because I now realize that words on a page can be just as powerful as a man in front of a microphone. And some poems are meant to be read alone with much time to ponder, like one of my newly discovered favorites William Butler Yeats, “While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart’s core. “ (11-12) |
| posted by evey @ 12:42 AM |
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| Aug 5, 2009 |
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i want to fill this box for you so badly. for what it's worth, the vague sort of secrecy that's coming across isn't intended to drive you nuts. i'm just caught up in my own web of revelation. i am a stream nowhere near a river. right now you are telling me about dreams and trees and stars. i've always been attracted to you as nature. the circle precious and organic, slipping in and out of flood.
there feels like something of a hammer in my hand. i don't want the power to crack open heads but there it is. i must be careful about what i extend to you. my selfishness will destroy if this is all left unprotected. so i stand guard of the reeds, tall and thinned from fractures.
let's pretend this is live journal. ask everyone questions that are really just meant for me.
i could ask so much of you but in a way i need to know what the answers will be. i need to be able to believe truth. in time i think i could.
when i close my eyes i see both of us standing on the banks. safe in our disguises. excited to jump. silently praying for the other to go first. leaning in, daring the wind to push. |
| posted by evey @ 3:12 AM |
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| Aug 4, 2009 |
| hungry |
it just won't come out. anything i was going to say before, now just seems like a lie. do you ever feel like this? my usual focus in song is thin at best. i need to be the best at something right now. seems like you do too. you should take pictures of yourself wearing your favorite things. write something so beautiful that it transforms us. it's your birthday and as usual i hate the geography.
my bags are still packed and they sit in a pile on the bedroom floor. when i need new undies i rummage. it's the closest i've been to my vagabond days in a long while. when i first got here i kind of lived out of that closet in the old living room. after i showered i would go in there and shimmy into my clothes. when we fought i would lock myself in there and sleep curled on the floor.
i slept at my mother's for 3 nights in complete silence. paralyzed to the decision of where to turn. driving around unattached was the best part.
i remain idle, unsure of where all this leaves me. |
| posted by evey @ 3:23 PM |
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| Jul 30, 2009 |
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| my night is shaping up to be absolutely insane. my head kinda hurts just thinking about it. i have to hit 5 different places in brooklyn to pick and drop stuff off. i will be so happy when all the selling of stuff is over. anyway i will try my best to hop out when i can and snap some photos. |
| posted by evey @ 5:01 PM |
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i forgot. didn't get to bring home my tooth but i did swipe my teeny tiny x-ray. |
| posted by evey @ 3:43 PM |
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i never thought...
i gave them away.
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| posted by evey @ 11:50 AM |
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what are your birthday wishes?
if i had a birthday coming i would want cupcakes and a concert and a new pair of red shoes.
i'm grasping for a thread. |
| posted by evey @ 11:34 AM |
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| Jul 28, 2009 |
| my randomness |
it's july but i keep thinking it's june.
the van is completely ours since winter and god it's a piece of crap. i'll finish my seasons soon by the way. anyway i bought a couch for $20 on clist but no one wants to buy the one i've got now so i drive around with a seriously large red sofa all the time.
every week i seem to have a snack obsession. this week lemonade and pretzel goldfish. last week... ah who remembers?
target is not as fun as it used to be. the dollar section leaves much to be desired compared to when it first debuted. i did score some fantastical t shirtness though. pictures to come soon. i think it's time to really start photographing, let's have a friendly war. let's play simon says or copy cat or something.
my feet are just too big.
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| posted by evey @ 4:57 PM |
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the questions will come at a pace so careful but probably not careful enough. i want to send you a letter. real paper with real ink. sometimes i stop myself from saying. as it is easier to write than to say, it is also easier to send by distance. safe from an instant reply. the sweetest place to find yourself lost.
why i am shy, what a question. um... well, i have anxiety in a general way. wearing my heart on my sleeve gets me into trouble so i guess my natural response is to be small, to hang back. shyness is a refuge, however cursed it makes me feel.
danger is the word no... actually it's the word maybe. i don't think i can take anymore murky water. i want to know what's underneath, exactly the shape, the exact tone. or i will know nothing at all and bob along, one beautifully fucked up head in the water. danger is in the needing. it shines a light further in than all others. danger is most in repeating the past. this is most tender and fragile, and that which we press so hard against.
you're asking about a specific idea, i think as much you've gathered. i can't take the pot off the stove; fast fizzles the boil of water. i can't take the lid off the pot. what if there is nothing inside? i'm trying to mold the proper branch of time. schooling myself not to force this all. choosing a better material. be gone silly weak thin wire.
i've felt watered down the past few days but i am striving for concentration. no matter what i do today, i'll be short. this is not to say i am spiky or sharp or squished or blunt. i'm not even upset. some days are just meant to go on without remark. this feeling, it says this is either a day i will vividly remember or a day i've long been meant to forget. |
| posted by evey @ 11:37 AM |
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uh oh. it's getting to the point where i can't sleep at night and mornings seem to run away. i don't know what to write about so i listen like a creeping fog. i'm thirsty. do what you do.
for now i drift from the edge, sounding and merged with water.
the space i've left to come to i find totally safe to breathe in.
there is so much enemy in me, so much. i'm shy but how could i ever be shy with you? i'm pretty sure my expression would always be wrong but i haven't quite figured out why that is.
please,
you don't have to apologize anymore. |
| posted by evey @ 9:19 AM |
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| Jul 27, 2009 |
| exhale |
thank you for writing and giving me words, hard. i am thankful each and every time.
my reason were split between rescuing you and rescuing me. as for love, i honestly didn't know. i was very committed to the open door and for probably longer than you realized. pre arrival plans were so elaborate... scrubbed every surface, bought new lamps, rushed to paint a sky. it was never complete but meant to be finished together. it always hurt, long after you were gone.
that was the thing i'm unsure about your understanding... everyday i woke and i made excuses to myself, to lis and even right to your face. when she first came into my apartment she was tired from the trip, of course, but she'll be excited to explore my environment tomorrow. she's overwhelmed by this new place but soon she'll get comfy and the elements of a world we've only talked about will open. she goes on journeys every weekend; well good, shes probably found a footing and soon she'll invite me and we can draw the path anew.
i was always waiting for the familiar satisfaction.
maybe it sounds weird but i was actually looking forward to your infamous untouchable though it never did manifest itself as i thought. big chunks of you were missing and the harder i tried to trace the line i once knew the more you responded as if i was hurting you. when we went through our lists of the dangers of what if i thought we solved the breakdown. talk about foolishness. you didn't come to punish me, i know that in my heart, but at times it seemed to pour retribution. at times we both play blind and when we were at our physical closest we gravely did it at the same time.
why were or are you horrified by love? that's very hard for me to wrap myself around. i do understand not wanting to settle but if you cannot impart yourself, if you never really let go, if you never fall you'll never have more than that. we're just different i guess. love gives me faith and a goal, it helps my stride. you were so afraid to connect with me but then you seemed to hate me for not being connected. that was a place near impossible to move from. i never declared that there was nothing more than a friendship. i never said no. i didn't know that you accepting the ticket was the last time you would act with belief in us.
to be honest i do still have a bad taste in my mouth and i want it to go away harder than i want to be anything else right now. i have ideas but the danger makes me shy. and i want to ask you questions but i know i must wait. i still have the inclination to run at 60, along the way is the only time i will survey the space. not smart. patience needs to be easier dammit; come in pill form.
sometimes i wished you drank or smoked more or whatever, just something to loosen up. it only seemed to make you inwardly sad. there was so much sorrow to you. i think you weren't used to the full lens, the full sight of my life. i get that.
i'm sorry too because all in all i feel like i should have known.
i cut my hair but it looks the same. and that is okay because that's the mood i am in. what colors are you wearing? today i am grey, navy blue and coral. |
| posted by evey @ 9:40 AM |
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| Jul 26, 2009 |
| bouncing off your wall |
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| posted by evey @ 3:45 PM |
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| Jul 23, 2009 |
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the notes i make to myself fail sense half the time. "write about the studio plan." i have no earthly idea what that refers to. those little hand held voice recorders were invented exactly for people like me. i'd never use one though because the sound of my own voice freaks me out.
i was looking at my old live journal. so long ago, so long ago that it hurts. when i had a paid account i posted a poll asking people to ask me whatever they wanted and the i would answer them straight up. i never answered the questions. was one of them yours? what would you truly want to know now?
what's your most painful memory ?
what do you see when you close your eyes?
Could you make yourself happy, w/o a S.O.?
what ever turned you into a watermelon anyways?
do you believe in magic?
WHO MADE WHO?
What do you expect from this relationship/move?
would you go out on a date with a transsexual?
all my questions are too long for this :(
wtf is wrong with you?
once i kissed a man pretending to be a woman. tasted about the same.
once i ditched an interview for anne sexton and a small sliver of floor.
once i gave a book meant for you to someone else and now i want it back in the worst way. i don't even remember the title or the author. the book literally fell on me at barnes and noble. it was light turquoise blue and the first few pages were about the ocean and stones and all things reminiscent of you. i made myself forget. i induced old age.
what do you do when your violence is only seen as calm? |
| posted by evey @ 11:45 AM |
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| easy answers |
yes, i did go thrift shopping. was hoping to find nightstands but instead i found a brand new buddha bank and this really pretty glass pitcher. good score.
 
yes, i do know of yo la tengo. not too deep into them but i love this song, you can have it all - yo la tengo.
moonlight mile is one of my favorite songs. reminds me of florida, the thickness of air, talking all night long. turin breaks covered it tho, it's a rolling stones song. i like their version too but mick's voice is too whinny some times for the begining so it doesn't catch me like tb's. i actually just came across a cd full of mp3's i discovered in florida. stuff like the soldiering life - the decemberists, when i was a boy - dar williams and this awesome gay vocal group doing a medley of duran duran songs. did you give me this? i can't remember. it was either you or mufasa.
i dunno if people would understand or even care but i guess all of that would depend on the editing. writing a book seems to be such an overwhelming task but haven't we already? the bones are there and we can both spin enough to fill in the holes. sounded good to me, kicking the idea around in my head. |
| posted by evey @ 3:59 AM |
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| Jul 21, 2009 |
| spring |
the bubble burst and i started flowing in all sorts of directions. the basement was only half ready, but the bathroom worked, so we were able to set up an office. we incorporated, bought company health insurance, etc. i revamped the website, clients started rolling in... lots of happy little grown up moments ensued. being on the other side of a job interview is freaking fun. i enjoyed it a little too much i think, making them jump through all sorts of hoops.
our first office assistant was this teeny tiny girl called teya. she was perfect for all of 3 days and then started doing quickbooks entries wrong and stuff. we were so busy that no one noticed till about 2 weeks later. it was a big mess that we had to fix during some stressed out late night work sessions. joel was next. he was great, worked here for about 2 months and then of course left for a job offer at spin magazine. who could blame him? when i was a kid i wanted to work at a magazine or a newspaper, sometimes i still do.
as best as i remember spring was spent baby step moving, one box at a time. more sillyness from lis's family. i paid extra special attention on setting up clearer boundaries as we moved downstairs... "we have to knock before we open the door to your house?" "what bitch!"
i don't recall the terms and sadness. there was no poetry here. poetry gone. |
| posted by evey @ 11:14 PM |
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 sometimes i feel like i hurt everyone i come into contact with. |
| posted by evey @ 9:40 AM |
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| the man that i am with my man - hidden cameras |
| i only have this as a wma so i am hoping you can convert it. be prepared for this. |
| posted by evey @ 7:39 AM |
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| Jul 20, 2009 |
| winter |
i'm going to do this, season by season.
i burned it the second i was done reading it. what a sting of a messenger you choose to deliver your note, splendid choice for what i am sure you meant to make me feel. i was surprised that you didn't say good bye in person or that you didn't at least give me the note yourself. and then immediately felt stupid for even being able to be surprised by you anymore. i never got used to the discord. so, i saw you get in the cab. i thought seriously about racing ahead of you to the city just so i could confront you, as a last ditch effort before i read the letter and in a i'm going to spit on you way after. it was always hard to accept that each day you lived in my life not much i could do would offer render.
it's hard to find the strands...
that winter was kind of bleak. the loss of what could have been took it's toll little by little like a ship and an iceberg poking holes. i'm sure we both rode the same sorta revolution of thoughts and whatnot.
as far as my life... that apartment just depressed me. winter cold has always been particularly significant living in this house because the asshole ruler of the thermostat decides that no one needs heat but him. little things that bobbed in and out of bother grew large and oppressive. wood paneling was suffocating. there was too much physical mass which kept me in an emotional state of ignore it or cry. i'm really affected by my environment. the basement was a promise still on it's way to keep.
relations with lis's family just blew up. i got really fed up with being blamed by her father for issues he himself instilled in his family. some really silly episodes went on. omg there was this time that kiana was supposed to empty out this room. she set a time and then blew it off which caused a domino reaction of backed up plans for everyone. we went downstairs to talk to her and she was in one of her moods. of course her daddy made excuses for her, the whole bit. long story short all the tension made lis cry because she felt in the middle. she was technically on my side but she has trouble breaking from her dad. so she's crying in the kitchen and i know it's because he's being a dick in the situation. i am standing 10 feet away fuming in my head. he walks in and is like hugging her, and he doesn't really it's because of him, and she is too upset to say anything. so i go over, take her hand and say we should go upstairs. i said it wasn't fair for him to be "comforting" her when she's actually upset over his behavior. i just couldn't let it go down like that, you know? HE FLIPPED OUT. i mean some psycho hysterical shit you see in movies. booming yelling, rolling on the floor, spitting. freaked everyone out.
this all left me in a slow sort of rage for a few months and no distraction worked. i was desperate to move, realign my energy, drive the business. when that mind frame creeps in i know i should just throw myself outside, commune with trees, that sort of thing. unfortunately that never seems to happen and i went underground in a way. i cut communication with the outside world because i knew if i talked long enough i'd leave. i'd walk right out of my heart. there were many fronts to this war. i dug a hole and prayed for spring. |
| posted by evey @ 9:26 PM |
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| i'm kind of a ghost with no explanation right now. |
| posted by evey @ 11:44 AM |
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| Jul 18, 2009 |
| nite |
the night is a color much like ash. thick and grey like the fog i drove through on my way home. i was near the ocean earlier, driving through wavy roads, wanting to touch the reeds. the leaf was a miscellaneous object soon to nest in pocket then hung barely like unskirted knees. night can be fluorescent like a head ache, leaky drones of a faucet and eyes needing to be scratched. night brings nerves of a break in and wishes of more blanket to have. sometimes it's just dull and jealous of violet, plotting escapades like mad. and sometimes night is sad and lonely with not a friend in the land. usually i enjoy a full night alone with time for whispers and sillyness, happy to fall asleep in the stillness before others realize it's dawn.
forks are hard to admit. i haven't truly been faced with one in awhile.
this is what i look like at night by the way... like some basketcase who is kidnapping herself.
what are you listening to lately?
catching the melody in everything is so sweetly exhausting. |
| posted by evey @ 2:30 AM |
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| neon |
you have to stand in the middle of it to feel the light, my color.
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| posted by evey @ 4:17 PM |
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| i should be finishing a newsletter but i'm here just to let you know i am here. |
| posted by evey @ 3:40 PM |
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| Jul 16, 2009 |
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| cold fried chicken + mango + biscuit = tasty lunch |
| posted by evey @ 8:00 PM |
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my wisdom tooth is probably filed somewhere in that creepy dentist's office. i should have asked to take it home with me, it caused enough pain so i definitely earned it, but i was still a tad loopy from the gas and forgot. the space left is still cracked and kind of soft. i avoid touching it. the first day it bled and i almost chocked on gauze. the second day i yearned for a hamburger but settled for a buttery mashed yam. the third day my jaw finally cracked and the fourth day i stopped counting. my gums on that side of my mouth are still sore so i chew gingerly but otherwise i'm quite recovered.
me too. i wonder much longer than it takes to read the words. and i read them like i watch my favorite movies, intent on finding a new detail or a further thought to muse.
we are not imaginary
unimaginable.
there is no abortion
inseparable.
somewhere between a state of striving and peace is when i am most myself. most days i am trying to keep that balance. i'm dealing with my addictions. i document my good choices, analyze the bad. i'm not sure i will ever be satisfied with my life to the point where i will feel done or accomplished enough. and that's ok because let's say i was done with life, well then i would be dead. i've reconciled a lot... i accept that it's all supposed to feel this way.
where are you going? where do your thoughts look toward?
babies. a jude or an oliver. a dylan or a jane. i want to make a family. buy an old brownstone in philadelphia. play tennis on the weekends. finish my degree. branch out into a store front, owls and ikea and bright green popping out everywhere. to feel like wearing skirts again. to grow a garden, tuesdays with earth under my nails. and my camera goes everywhere.
when i am alone i've returned to some pleasures left aside; self portrait, downloading + mixing + exploring music, journaling, cooking. i have a new art room so i'm spending a lot of time structuring that, throwing out clutter and such. i painted it a color called extra virgin olive oil. it's the color of energy and life, somewhere between an acid green and a warm yellow. it's neon without the noise and i adore it. every time i feel off center or unnecessarily sad i just lean on one of the walls and take those big breaths. works like a charm. the walls are pretty bare though. i'm in no rush to fill them up. that's something that's changed in me. i'll always be part lightening but some things are best made slow. not only do i appreciate quality but i'm really interested in cultivating it. the arch of growing up has become more subtle.
i miss the music too. i miss the exercise. the search for lyrics i can swear i've bore. the world can be so flat. |
| posted by evey @ 5:15 PM |
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| Jul 15, 2009 |
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sleep makes everything better, if only a little. i hope you are sleeping enough. i slept too much last night and too deeply. the anger from yesterday's idiots has softened but so has the motivation to kick some asses. i've just got to slap myself in the face and get back on the horse. it's one of those days.
hello,
i hold against urge
yer return |
| posted by evey @ 12:56 PM |
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| Jul 14, 2009 |
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my house is being invaded. not of much consequence considering but jesus fucking christ if i don't let it out i am going to start chewing my arm off. i really hope that my face doesn't stay like this forever, the bad parts at least.
i'm trying to become better but i am perplexed by breath
to pull further in challenges space
to survive depressed is sad and commonplace. |
| posted by evey @ 5:16 PM |
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 for when you can listen. |
| posted by evey @ 4:49 PM |
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| Jul 13, 2009 |
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i am falling over myself with urgency
aching to be ripe with words
and on my tongue lasts taste
chocolate, what once was only clove.
some better way to tell you
yes and yes to all
that comfort of being sad.
some better way to ease you
no we won't forget
memories, hill & sand.
some better way to own me
see i was not before
my pride petulantly had.
some better way to see you
as i knew before
with shell bits in your hand.
i am tripping over myself quietly
flushed with heart's reprieve
and on my mind frames shape
the seam i'm never meant to see. |
| posted by evey @ 4:15 PM |
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i wasn't expecting to open a package so new and familiar. there was a fear i had to get over just to read it. fear that my inspection would disturb and before i would know how to stop it the dust would ensue. there is so much more than dust left and always sound to make.
i'm so sorry about your baba. i don't want to say all that other stuff that people say when someone dies cause it is cheap in a way. i'm just really sorry. try not to let the vultures get you down.
the mountain goats - cotton
friday night at about 9pm i cracked my tooth. it was all pretty fucking awful. i cried for like 2 hours because of the pain and then the stress of having to go to the dentist. i mention it because it's why i haven't been around and also because sometimes i wonder how serious the mirror is. i already know about the magnet.
after sleep and solid food i will return. |
| posted by evey @ 12:52 AM |
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| Jul 9, 2009 |
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i was expecting that you know, but will the door open? is there meant to be a key? questions. is there a word for the simultaneous feeling of being too soon and being too late? surely you would know or you'll find out.
it's like i have all of these pieces of thought and word and i hold them outstretched. broken at time. warped. wet. anyone, in theory, can take them but only those who know what to do with them actually see. i don't really know if we are complimentary because circumstance was such a bitch of a cloud but i know we house a twin. a mirror that will find no other. value; aching to give.
i am supposed to write a paper on what poetry is. jesus that's a stupid question. |
| posted by evey @ 7:13 PM |
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