Have a Heart...

Made out of clay.
There must be a better way...


"With a sunrise and a sunset there’s a change of heart or address. Is there nothing that remains? For a sunrise or a sunset. You’re manic or you’re depressed. Will you ever feel ok?"

--b.e.

L for Hallelujah

Today I looked up and painted the sky grey...
but I gotta fix that, I better fix that.

It's normal u know... it just cycles through without reason and cuts deep.
It pricks the mind, and almost impales the soul.

They're blind to the severity, but I'll entertain the remedy...
cold sheets and inexistence.

Save me, save yourself.

There's a mode of reason around every sharp corner, and a selfless verse for every acute angle.

I tilt my head up at the sky with my heart, my head, my soul... hallelujah.

Hallelujah...

Let's Equate

You happy = me happy.

I'll remedy the emotion with a little light and some heavy devotion, it's time to spark the change...

I Chews You

Minutes, days, months...
smiling with your fake veneers.
I precipitate and wait...
melt away your facade with my tears.

But it's not those pretty things...
your teeth they will rot.
It takes a little time to flick the change...
with this agitated love you once forgot.

Now my wardrobe's clean...
your soul inside out.
Elate a verse at every intersection...
and sing to a new crowd.

Something is Being Delivered...

It's me.

Come on Life, Go...

Something needs to be done, find the list.

Someone is always away, clench the wrist .

Detach the loathe from the self.

Separate the love from contempt and wealth.

Get up, get up, move your feet, move your feet.

Dang it heart, just beat, Beat, BEAT!

Lost & Found...

Nothing fits, but the straightjacket.
I scorn missing things.

Mind eluded.
The old conductor sings.

Those shoes untied.
Can't catch that train.

I got prudence in my pocket.
Some discontent in the slow lane.

A new penny for the loafer.
Another dime for a friend.

Tut tut, I'll take the old sneakers.
A torn heart, a needle, and some thread.

Ciao...

It's normal as usual, these continuous glances. Never last, never certain, never cumbersome, never too near. I'm counting days to seconds, choking the horizon at sunset. But the dark has surmounted light, and our coincidence has lost its bright. Don't worry love. I've got a book for the match, and a flicker for this flame. This breeze unremitting, shut the swinging door on farewells. The tumblers are empty, and the coasters are drained. Come fill my glass, feed my soul, thirty not thirtytwo. We'll see the world move mountains, and feel the sea with our dreams.

Make the Shift and Split

It's one of those things where I clap and you dance.
Now the wind has averted, and you leave when I stand.
Never perfected, but always perfect...
Just swallow the regret.

Grasp.

Let go.

Now I see, now I see...

The dust never leaves, but my vices are clean.
The kind of shit that tastes bitter, but nourishes the intrigue.
You contrive show and tell...
Manifest a gratifying hell.

Spit.

Forget.

Now I breathe, I breathe.

Use Your Head?

This morning a bird randomly took flight from my head. It's been awhile since I last had such mixed thoughts. Disgust from piercing legs invading my mind. Reverence in the idea of my head being in a mode of stability for once. Envy of acting upon the desire for a geographically inspired perspective. Blissful for contriving ideas of heads to provide for my perpetual evasion from normalcy... damn lucky birds.

Aidyn?

Oh yes... this is my nephew. I've only seen him twice, but love him and miss him dearly. I plea to eradicate tradeoffs completely... no, no, I'll be a little less harsh: Death to tradeoffs.

Sew What?!...

if I've only slept for 20 minutes in the last 3 days of finals. Post delirium has overthrown my mind into a lucid dream. My machine has legs as my hands move robotically... "don't let it run away wit chu," says Ms. Fisher to my temporal lobe. My robot is becoming immaculately punctual as the needle pierces repeatedly through opulent cloth. The sky escapes darkness as I plead of time to be more munificent. Is it that time is never on my side? No. Never say never. I have no sides.

Dispirited Wit...

I really have nothing of importance to say, or even anything remotely witty. Maybe I'm too dejected or incapacitate to do so, and it's best I leave it to someone else...

Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable.

-Voltaire

Moving On...

I like it.

This seems all too familiar.

I don't like it.

Some silence please.

Worn, Unworn...

So my heart and mind decided to try on some clothes the other day. I love it vintage, but hate it used. Usually the feeling is used, but that day it surpassed the fit of a glove. I was wandering the streets of downtown LA near the MOCA, and happened upon an exhibit called Skin + Bones. An amazing set up that presented certain techniques and strategies in which fashion paralleled architecture. I have to admit that the exhibit did lack in expressing key points, but included many interesting conceptual works from Gehry, Chalayan, Miyake, McQueen, Yamamoto, and many respected others. For once I felt some sort of reassurance that my life was, and is on the right track. There are so many avenues in life, and perhaps my introspection led me to take a few more turns up and down the alleys. In the inception I was on a mission to soul search, but I think I was wrong all along. I didn't need to find myself, but rather realize myself. Now I think I have realized more than just something. Architecture my muse, Apparel my art. I love the less beaten path.

Tawdry Talk...

I think I'll pass, if the talk is cheap.
Inner dialogue is priceless, but purchased for free.

Stupid boys in hot pants, my shoulder is cold.
Just leave your words at the dollar store...

Disconnect...

I have fallen off the face of the earth.
A beautiful perspective of debauchery.

My head is messy.
Chaotic order.

I am drawn to the view from here.
I think I'll stay for awhile...

I'm Back...

... with so much to tell, I don't even know where to begin. So I have compiled a brief list of experiences in the last month, or lack their of:

I drove across the country in solitude.

I live in downtown Los Angeles in a semi-highrise, with an amazing view... and the streets smell like a john more often than not.

I am going to FIDM for a professional degree in fashion design, and LOVE it so much that my heart for once feels more than content.

Downtown LA is quite dirty, Hollywood is glam but only a facade, and my pants are not on fire when I say I really enjoy other parts of LA.

I want to surf more, but I live too far from the beach. LA distance is measured in time. It's only 10 miles, but really 30-90 minutes.

I don't sleep much... but when I do I dream near nightmares. I hate clowns and paint.

I live on coffee, power bars, and never drink.

Will is cool. I am silly. It's movie time.

Window shopping excites me. Boys should not wear skinny jeans.

I miss my family, especially my siblings so much, it impales me and then kills me.

I left for LA, then my neice was born... it figures, my heart was meant to ache.

Emails keep my sanity withing walking distance. I walk a lot, with my keys like brass knuckles.

My sister keeps my mind from indisposal, my mood from lachrymose, and my living from demise. Oh my sister... how I love you.

Minneapolis Sculpture Garden...

I love the city. Any big city. Perhaps this is why I have become such an intermittent urbanite. Although, I have found that I am more appreciative of Minneapolis when I am not running away from it, but rather walking. I recently strolled my way through one of my favorite urban retreats. A mere moment of happy solitude, coffee in hand.

Several aesthetically pleasing installations, some permanent, some like me. Prophecy of the Ancients. This piece is one of my favorites, like I've interrupted someone's dream. Several familiar objects suspended in a mesh metal dome. Don't wake up. I never like being awaken from my dreams. I forced my boots to tip its toes between geese droppings.

Grateful for the geese. For without them I am commonly the odd wheel. I stand alone without a hand to hold. I grasp my coffeeless cup firmly. Surrounded by lovebirds personified. This silent feeling is familiar. I move on.

Hare on Bell. An odd couple, yet they seem to complement one another. A sort of formal elegance. In all my deviance, at least I wore my dress. I'm at a loss for meaningful words here. Nothing new, I suppose. The generous hare says it's time for tea, but it's been spilt by my cumbersome glances. The sun is leaving me, whispering cold goodbyes. I hear the bell ring, but it remains still. Follow me boots, I am not a sculpture. I have nothing to display.

My final glance. This time reciprocated. I love this one. Goddess with the Golden Thighs. Beautiful in all its ugliness. We'll meet again. I love this microcosm. The city is getting cold, and soon it will be contagious...

I dreamt the other night...

We sang the same song.
City streets fell silent.

You held my guitar pick.
I held my breath.

You showed me how to breathe.
I inhaled your words.

Your worn heart on your sleeve.
My stone on your shirt.

We lived in the rain.
The world fell asleep.

Puddles left with rivers.
Washed away our misery.

With each and every drop.
Your soul I could feel.

I strummed your epitaph.
You died in my sleep...