frontier

a vat of boiling blackness is next frontier into which I must peer. will I find a broth of nourishment of a bowl of bloody urine?

trivia

i've always sucked at it. don't even ask me to play trivial persuit unless someone with a ton of useless knowledge is on my team. the description word being trivial says something here, folks.

it doesn't matter to me at all.

collect

collect the scattered pieces of shattered thought. words spilled out into a frozen void and scrambled like refrigerator magnet poetry. reconstruct and reassemble. throw away the pieces that don't fit. what is reconstructed isn't the same as what was originally deconstructed.

oscillate

I bounce back and forth like a slow motion Pong tournament, which is rather slow given that the silly Pong ball (more of cube really) always slides across the screen like a drop of nonstick honey. Delayed reaction of a mental sorts. Not like Pong. Pong is reflexive and reactionary and well suited for my delayed mental oscillations. The problem being, as I just stated two sentences ago, Pong is reflexive not mental. So when my actions precede my thoughts (such as in Pong), does it mean that I did think but didn't notice? Cognitive without cognizance?

awake

caffeine... a miracle of science.... what does iot mean when you cant blink?

awake

i know that today is my birthday and that i should be awake and excited about all of the possibilities my being born has given me. i should be wide-eyed and nervous and restless.

but instead. i am just tired.

awake

I listen to alarm of my sleeping state pressing my mind to awake. but I am scared of what I will find when I open my tired eyes. will my life still be the same?

trying

I'm not trying to change the world, I'm just trying to live in it.

trying

demons tempt me to try. to leap into the sky. to spread my arms and fly. but this building is too high. if I crash I'll die. would demons lie?

trying

trying... to come up with something clever... damn...

trying

and i sit here by myself ignoring the fire lit between my legs... trying to remember why i used to waste away here for hours at a time.

but it's all depressing now. half-assed and pretend for people unable to go out and make things stick in a world where people touch more than keyboards.

i get angry at myself when typing away to an IM window arouses me. like some sad and pathetic nerd perv trying to work it out one handed... making sure to listen for anyone trying to enter the room.

i am trying not to be so painfully aware of my lack of satisfaction. trying. trying. trying. so damn hard.

story

"what's your story, dude?" he asked... "same as yours, i'd say," i replied, "except without all the inbreeding." ghost

story

"It's a long story, I'll tell you over coffee sometime."

I find myself saying that to people quite a bit. I may mention something in passing in another conversation, that they'll question, and I'll just tell them the above quote. I have a LOT of long stories to tell, actually. If people truly do want to know, they'll make an effort to find out and call me. I used to actually have cards that said, "I'll tell you over coffee sometime," and give them to people. Sometimes they would, sometimes they wouldn't. That was back in the Time Before Blogs, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and Clinton was president. Ahh, those were the days. ::sigh::

Now, nobody really calls me to find out my "over coffee stories." Instead, I find some strange searches in activity logs for people who are searching my archives. Well, what most people don't know is that I lost all my archives from 2001- October 2003 in a freak internet accident, and the remainder of what remains, I haven't really written many of them.

Ah well.

(Oh, and one of these days, I'll start a twilight without a quote.)

story.

A day late, and a dollar short.



It's the story of your life.

story

once upon a time there was a love to be had
by everyone who believed
in something
who believed
in anything

next

moving up to the front of the line i can't remember what it was that i so desperately wanted to order. everyone fidgets around me, impatient for their turn to converse with the dealer. this dangerously sweet fuel we try to deny we need helps us smile and force ourselves through these days. we are all standing around... longing for that word to be spoken to us. just one little word. and it is fitting that when my time finally arrives i blow it and order a plain vanilla shake... when what i was really looking for was two scoops of strawberry on a cake cone. funny how we all settle under pressure.

heaven

the clouds drip perfect mouth-fulls of sweet nectar that the flowers enviously collect in the center of their petals. we all fly through them, not minding the stickiness attaching to our wings made from all the hurt and pain we experienced before. we are rewarded for all we experience here. the light pours slowly and carefully from our eyes as we look downward... never missing the darkness that we were once engulfed in. the eyes of angels shatter all the disillusions we fool ourselves into seeing and i can't wait to have my eyes truly opened.

heaven

Show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream she said
The one that makes me laugh she said
And threw her arms around my neck
Show me how you do it
And I promise you I promise that
I’ll run away with you
I’ll run away with you
Spinning on that dizzy edge
I kissed her face and kissed her head
And dreamed of all the different ways I had
To make her glow
Why are you so far away? she said
Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you
That I’m in love with you
-- The Cure ("Just Like Heaven")

How fitting of a word for me to stumble upon tonight.

I thought I met the man of my dreams. Joshua. Smart, sexy, funny, tattoo artist, Jewish, Canadian, romantic ... everything I've been looking for. I was talking to him, as usual, tonight online, and was listening to The Cure. He said he liked The Cure as well, and he said that when he hears "Just Like Heaven," he thinks of me. I thought it was sweet of him, and was looking forward to my upcoming trip to Toronto.

Later in the conversation, he suddenly tells me of a "minor complication": In a couple months, when his tattoo books are finished, he's off to the Ukraine to get them printed and get a distribution deal, then he's going to Portugal to the beaches, and from there, he's going back home to Israel to live. Oh, and he's also in the IDF reserves.

I logged into blogger and saw that the word was "heaven," and right then "Just Like Heaven" started playing in my mp3 player. I looked up the lyrics to post, read them, and tears began to flow.

It's no wonder the Heebs don't go to heaven. There is no heaven for us.

(Oy, this was NOT what I intended to write originally.)

Heaven.

"Hey, are you all right?"
"Yeah, I guess. I just . . . I miss him, a lot."
"C'mon. Y'all haven't gotten along for ages. It's just post-break-up blues."
"Yeah, I know, but that's not it, really."
"Right. And what could you possibly be missing about that asshole?"
"It's just that when things were good, they were really good."
"Yeah, and when things were bad, which was most of the time, they were really bad."
"You don't understand."
"Try and explain."
"When things were good, curling up with him -- I never felt safer than when I was in his arms. Those scant moments of peace, of love, they were like a little slice of heaven, in our disaster of a relationship."
"And he treated you like shit the rest of the time."
"Yeah, but it wasn't because he hated me."
"No?"
"He just . . . hated himself."

heaven

do you believe in a heaven... a place of eternal joy to which you ascend when you die, assuming you've been a good boy?

upgrade.

"Hi, thank you for calling God. My name is Julie, how may I help you?"
"Hi, Julie. I'm calling to report a bug in MyWeather (tm)."
"Really? What's wrong?"
"Well, generally everything runs fine. Boot up in the morning to clear skies and a beautiful day, followed by a spectacular sunset, but lately, if it doesn't rain all day, then there's a thunderstorm in the evening, and if there's no thunderstorm, it rains all day."
"Hmmm. That's odd. What system are you running on?"
"Maryland. DC/ Baltimore Metro."
"Well, MyWeather may have been infected with Seattle and Florida virii."
"Really? But I -- "
"Unfortinately, the Maryland system is permenantly affected. We're making great strides, but your only option might be to upgrade your location to Bahamas, Southern California, or try a European System. Good luck!"
"Thanks . . . "

upgrade

only a computer nerd would pick this word...

hehe.

upgrade

upgrade. everything everywhere always needs an upgrade. scream and moan that life will be so much easier when it's all upgraded. when will the madness stop? why not downgrade for a while. remind ourselves how it used to be… remind ourselves how much better things have become… remind ourselves that we really have no reason to complain.