Wednesday, February 29, 2012

i look down upon my diary-less livelihood with a feeling of cordial disdain

If I don't know something, then I don't know anything at all

And I feel like sometimes, it's like, "oh" 
And also, it's like, "oh," also. 
Then clams, and pictures
pictures of clams
and pictures, of clams 
and an understanding. hi. 
that's like, oh, we can't, 
because it's like, 
bitches ain't shit. 

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

hi bitches. I wrote this shit.


The only time I truly feel alone is when the sun stops shining. I feel nothing. I walk outside, with expectations like that of day, but what appears before me is not the landscape I remember. Day is when you see exactly what’s there, at night, you see exactly nothing. What you’re seeing, isn’t a thing; it’s the absence thereof. Isn’t seeing something as monumental as not seeing anything at all?

Juxtaposed, is black tree contours on 2-D black background. Where’s the contrast, where’s common knowledge? Thick black ink floats. Lifted up from the ground are your feet, suddenly you’re not walking to a vanishing point, because it’s been gone for a while now. What are the jagged ridges looming above my doorstep? They’re mountains, I guess, of course they’re mountains. What’s the sound I hear? Well of course I do not know.

4 p.m. July 3rd, you may look outside and see if you’ll need a windbreaker, 2 a.m. August 6th, you’ve not got a clue. There is something however, about not knowing what’s in front of you. What is it that intrigues us with wonder, why do we have surprise parties? Well of course I do not know.

Sometimes I think about stars.

Think back and I remember dancing with my two best friends on top of the city; it was cold. Loud loud music, and slurpees all around, old cans rattling in the trunk. And laughs, ohhh the laughs. Old men screaming, just as the sun goes down; warm wind settled in Canadian coolies, fake shots and raindrops and memories forever, is what the night reminds me of. Old-times evoked, and new ones provoked, it’s forever a safe place; that of the night.

I walk outside, seeing shapes of nothing and loving it. All I can see is a luminous night ahead of me. The sun’s not here, it’s completely opposite me, but this is the brightest it’s felt for a while now.