Wednesday, August 31, 2011

B-dayyyy for Hermitt

Did I spell buddy wrong?

Oh, Julie!

Anyway. Happy birthday Hermit. Hope you have a good one.

Oh, and, they should create birthday resolutions. And, yours should be to make it to 26.

Haha, you're old.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

If

If I can't wake you up, I can't wake myself up.

Why try and change somebody who doesn't want to change?

Why make decisions on whether or not someone becomes different?

I'm stuck in a core.

Still having dreams about the train.

And I hate being lied to when I know I'm being lied to and can't do anything about it. I guess this is truly the end of our friendship. But whatever. I was only your "summer budy" anyway.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Deeper

There was blood on the butterfly's wings.
The traumatized thing
can't fly anymore.
And her words were painted bright red
in the air of what's been said
like a hidden trap door.
So we fall to the grave of her mouth,
like her head is a house
and we're stuck in the core.

Feasting on the crumbs left behind.
Sucking on our thumbs,
We're still blind.
Reaching out in the dark,
to take a closer look
of the inside of our coffins
and our life skinned on a hook.

I take in what was said
'cause I'm like an orphanage.
But the sentence is a weapon,
Making reality seem real,
'cause before it was words
it was just an idea.
Now it's transformed into
something we can't take back.
Saying it only makes it worse
than leaving it an unspoken fact.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Well

WE DON'T LIVE IN A WHAT IF WORLD!

Except we do.

Hahahahaha, wait I don't get it.

Friday, August 19, 2011

This is my life

This is my life:

I'm sitting in a Kroger's, and for those of you who don't live in Ohio, that's a grocery store. I'm sitting there and watching this lady. She takes a number and is waiting with patience, or lack thereof, for her food. Finally, she's called, and she orders - chicken or salmon or some kind of meat. As she walk away, she slips the meat in her purse.
I think, my God, somebody has to have seen that.
I think, Somebody has to confront her.
But no, nobody confronted her. Not even myself, which in a sense makes me a sort of hypocrite. I just sit there listening to my music, and I think, this is my life. I think, this is the world we live in.
It's not like I wanted her to get caught. It's not my place to want justice when I've clearly been unjust before. I just wanted somebody to see her. I just wanted somebody to say something.

And I think, if this is my life, and this is the world we live in, maybe I don't want to be a part of it.
I feel empty.

Friday, August 12, 2011

I am

I am the visible reminder of the invisible.