Crayons

"Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's okay though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, 'hey girl, magenta!' and she's like, 'oh, you mean purple!' and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, 'no - I want magenta!'"

You saved my soul, picked up my heart, dusted off the pieces, put it back together, and are holding on to it for safe keeping.



So why do I fear you?

It was perfectly clear last
~~~~~~~~~night when I came home. The stars

were everywhere, mocking me
~~~~~~~~~beacause I can't look until you're here.

The severity of my situation fell upon me
~~~~~~~~~~ today. And I got to thinking about all the "What ifs"

So what if something happens in the end of all this
~~~~~~~~~~ and I am left broken lying on the floor with no glue?

When did this change? When did it become more important that someone else was happy and in good health? When did I fall, and how do I get back up?

If Only

I could fly
High above this place
I could fly from here
Clip the trees and graze the water
And get away
If I had wings

I could drive
So far from this place
I could drive from here
Floor the gas and rev the engine
And get away
If I had a car

I could leave
Anywhere but this place
I could leave from here
Pack my bags and say goodbye
And get away
If I had the will

Emily: eh, I'm alright
Greg: I dont get that impression
Emily: haha, shhh you aren't supposed to see past my fake chipper-ness
Greg: whoops, my bad
Emily: nah, I'm not really upset. Or at least not really. I am just marveling at the fact that when I should be angry with someone, I instead find the behavior that should prompt said anger incredibly cute in an endearing way

It hurt worse the other day
~~~~~~~~~~ and when I told you about the hammer

You shrugged it off as the usual
~~~~~~~~~~ untill it hit you today and I said "I told you so"

I counted the days today
~~~~~~~~~~untill you could do what you say
And I told you the number
~~~~~~~~~~to which you replied "ick, that's even worse that the months"

Say things I want so badly to believe
And at times I do
They seep into my skin,
Past the walls and the protections
Crumbling my reserve like hot water over ice
But I’m not done with these precautions
They have yet to finish serving me
So what happens when they are gone,
And I’m left without their aid?
Where will you be,
When I’m in the greatest need?
I call out your name
And all I hear in response
Are the echoes of a long forgotten past
I wish so badly to remember

Intelligence vs. Wisdom

The problem of discussing "wisdom" is that everyone's had at least a few 
thoughts they consider "wise". In many cases they've gone through a lot 
of hell to acquire whatever lesson they learned, and they really don't 
want to hear that they've learned the wrong lesson from it. If you have 
the misfortune to meet an "intelligent" person who's learned the lesson 
that facility with verbal argument isn't smartness but rather "a fancier 
kind of stupid", as Spider Robinson put it, good luck ever convincing 
them that there's any kind of intelligence that actually works! They've 
given up their pride to come to that conclusion, they've been hit over 
the head by stark reality, they've gone through hell to arrive at that 
one crumb of wisdom and by damn they've earned the right to be smug 
about it. If you're foolish enough to think there's any kind of 
intelligence that really works, you must not have gone through what they 
did; you must be too proud to admit your own folly; you must not be 
wise. I don't know how to dig people out of that trap

I thought of dancing in the rain
~~~~~~~~~~today, when the sky opened up

But then I remembered you still weren't here
~~~~~~~~~~so I shut the door and turned music on

Truth?

What is truth? Do we create it ourselves? Is it manmade, a structure created by these hands? Can it bend, can it be molded? And if it bends into something new, is that truth as well? Doesn't it have to be if it was made from truth to start with? So does that mean that a truth molded and morphed by our own minds is then, in the end, truth itself? If this is so, we create our own truths. Does that also mean that we can create new truths all together? I hope so, because I do not like this current thing that is true in my mind, and I want so badly to change it. What does it take to change the truth?

The Way I See It

What could be better?
Than the perfect great escape
Take your pick
Of
New frontiers
My body is screaming and
My memory is shot
Oh, the places I’ll go
With
This true magic

Is this supposed to ache so much?

untitled 3/11/08 part II

It’s warm in my room
As you sneak to my bed
Chilled fingertips wake me
And you catch my stare
We sit in silence
For nothing needs to be said

It’s warm in my room
As you hold me tight
Soft kiss keeps me awake
And you whisper in my ear
Nothing at all
For nothing needs to be said

It’s warm in my chest
As you smile goodnight
Heartbeat sings me to sleep
And your rhythm is the only sound
That echoes silently
For nothing needs to be said

I feel like I am making the same mistake over and over again. Jump, crash, burn. Rinse and Repeat. And don’t learn a damn thing after I get up again.

You can't really fail at life, nor can you pass at life either. It's a ride, and at the end we all get off no matter what happened, no matter how many twists and curves it took us on. the best we can do is enjoy it while it lasts, try not to puke when it turns us upside down, and not fear that final stop

That's No Bomb Fire You See

Tonight’s the night the world dies
So sharpen your knifes
And load your guns
Because there’s a fight brewing here
Pick a side and pray to a god
We all know doesn’t exist
For the strength to continue
Throughout all hours of darkness
Because tonight’s the night the world will burn
And baby I do hope you picked the right side

I just realized that you were there all along. Who knew. A shame you can't be here in person though, what I would give to do nothing more than hold your hand...