now we'll never know.

i layed my head down to rest, and now i can't find it. it's running. and fast. up and down. left. right. its even running in circles. just around and around. and around. its not getting anywhere in particular, but it feels like it is. and i'm not getting any rest. because with my head missing it's hard to know where the rest of me is at. so i lay my head down to rest. fill in the holes with sound. there's some ounce of direction in the noise. the beating drum. the humming strings. the empty body of wood holding it all, throwing it back out and soothing the air. the rhythm keeping time with each racing thought. and my head starts to move a little slower.

but it's running again. now we'll never know.

step outside, it's raining.

it's raining outside. it's been raining for three days now. it's december and it should be snowing. not raining. there's something heavy about rain. heavy.. not because it's water and the whole getting wet and everything part, but because everything is grey and yet somehow still inviting. and that's the thing about rain; it's not cold enough to turn those falling drops into gentle flakes. but it's not warm enough to make them evaporate into the hot steam found on a summer day. and so it's heavy. and the grey is heavy. like sunglasses over the sun. and my wet clothes make my shoulders sink a bit. and my feet are harder to pick up. and everything moves a little slower. and i just wish the clouds would move so the heat could soak it all up; so i could see a little better.

it's raining and it's christmas. well it doesn't feel like christmas when it's raining. and why does everyone have to say 'happy holidays'? i don't care if you celebrate hannuka or christmas, believe in jesus or saint nicholas. i'm going to say 'merry christmas' and 'happy hannuka' and 'merry kwanza' if i really want to. even mele kalikimaka. why do people have christmas anyway, if they don't believe that something amazing happened on that day?

i guess maybe i just have a lot on my mind tonight. and having a lot on my mind makes me aggitated. all those drops, tapping the windows like they're trying to get to me. break the glass. flood the living room. and i go under. now i'm just swimming in them, weightless. and feeling them swallow me makes me not feel a thing. maybe i should just open the door, slide up the windows, and wait. i'm soaking in them. and i don't know how long it will take for me to dry off. and it's just... heavy.

you're an idiot.

noodles. and butter. with some parmesan cheese. it was either that or some grits and lays bbq chips. or nutella. i should really head to the grocery store. if my brain had a grocery list, the top 5 things on it would be this:

1. storage space; enough for at least 10% increase in capacity
2. kill the incessant thinking
3. facts about how long you could survive if a wild mongoose attacked you and your carotid artery was punctured.. mildly, not fatally
4. dolla dolla bills y'all
5. food for the right side, sedatives for the left

yep. that list sounds about good. i guess maybe there are a lot of things i would like to pick up for my brain. a key. maybe if my brain had a key of sorts, then i could open it up and see what was really inside. i'd start with some clean-up first though. all those damn thoughts always sloshing around in there... i'd like to just take them out entirely. but i guess maybe some of them are useful. top 5, coming at you:

1. my room smells like syrup. hazlenut coffee syrupy goodness. i love that candle. good purchase, me.
2. i wish i could sing like lauryn hill.
3. pants.
4. pomogranate wine. i should have a glass. but i'd really like to eat some chocolate peanut butter ice-cream too. could this be a descent combo? what if i made a pomogranite wine, chocolate peanut butter float? gross. i just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
5. i feel like i'm too small for life sometimes. i mean, how am i supposed to know how to live when i've never done it before? funny how we only have one. i'd like to have a second chance to live, after i lived a first one, so that i could come back and throw some completely new things into the mix. actually, no. one life is good enough. i'm ready to get out of this 'ell 'ole.

yea. see. not too many good thoughts there. okay, good maybe, but not particularly useful. like, did you know that dust mites can't live in CO because it's too dry there? true fact. too bad i live in cali.

noodles. noodles don't have a lot of taste. i should have gone with grits and bbq chips. and nutella.

1. what an idiot
2. this blog is completly idiotic
3. grits and bbq chips would be totally disgusting and not the least bit nutritious, idiot
4. nutella is good.
5. dolla dolla bills y'all!
i'm an idot. i mean idiot. damn it.

business or pleasure?

i don't know who killed him. it could have been her husband, or her.. since she was his secret lover. but then there's the waiter. he was the one who gave her the glass in the first place. she was going to drink it. but then he drank it. he wasn't supposed to, he just happened to. it was an accident. but then the waiter ended up with a knife in his chest and then she shot her husband. everyone is dead. she could have shot herself next, seeing as she was the only one left, but instead she drank the vile which was used in the glass that he drank though it was meant for her. everyone is dead.

dinner was fun tonight. we solved the mystery, but solved it wrong. i drank white wine and ate grilled salmon. i felt out of place, but made myself fit in. my people skills are fairly decent in that regard. i got half lost on my way back to my room, but found it alright. 828. the night is quite. and i've noticed that i am not used to this sound. silence. but i've also noticed that i like it. i like it very much. and so i smoke a clove out on my veranda and tell 'pants' about life. and then i listen to it. and there is nothing. and i like it very much.

i wore the robe they hung in the closet most of the night. 'la costa spa and resort' etched across the upper left side. i feel like i belong to some elite club when wearing this robe. not because i can afford to stay in places like this, but because i am staying in a place like this and its fun pretending like i am used to this. so i draw a warm bath and dim the lights. i play some sigur ros on the side and i stretch out. my robe hangs on the wall, waiting for my return. well now i'm wearing it again. but this time i wear it as myself and its more fun, because i'm staying at a resort where world class spa treatment is given, but sitting here in my robe using a $20 hand massager i bought at brookstone to knead the knots out of my shoulder. and its fun. all of it. the mystery, the wine, the silence, the warm bath, the robe. and my $20 massager.

business is business. they always say 'never mix business with pleasure', but i think pleasure should be mixed with everything. life is full of pleasure. if only i'd put it on more.

she has her days.

the back door was left open at the temple tonight. red velvet chairs all connected at the base. scattered occupants waiting for a word. from god, from a man, from who? i don't know either. the boy in the third row wants to know. his eyes look lost. i shake my head and keep on walking. i don't have your word, boy. today is one of my bad days.

i tap my toe on the concrete to keep time. but i miss you. and because it's a bad day i don't know what i think about time. if i could cheat it, i would. if i could slow it down or make it go a little faster; or if i only had all the time in the world. how do i make peace with this? this ever moving force that i can neither forget nor predict. and right now i'm sitting in it. just sitting. sitting, when all i want to do is jump. leap, even. but i'm scared. and i want you there. what if there's no one there to leap with me? and so i tap my fingers on my heart to keep it going. it's just one of those days.

if i go to bed early enough it might make it stop. but it doesn't. i've slept on a soaked pillow for weeks now. and still i'll have to wake up, and remember to breathe in and out. but i don't think i'm doing a good job these days. at living. my room is cold. cold enough to let me know that i am lying here. cold enough to feel. and the darkness. the darkness might as well swallow me, because i can't see where it ends. the glow-in-the-dark constellations above me are fading. five minutes with the light on and they'll last another hour, give or take. today was a bad day. and going to bed early was a bad idea. because there's that time thing again. and i'm just lying in it. not to mention that it's cold enough to feel. another night and i'll curl up beside myself, pillow soaked. tomorrow is another one of my bad days. i can tell.

i don't have your word, boy. not today. wait for the good ones. sit a while. she has her days.

life is a brightly colored song.

everytime i sit here she asks the same question. "can i read your palm?"

"no thanks." i say it nicely. why doesn't she ever remember that she's already asked me this?

but tonight it was different.

"i couldn't help but notice that your aura is showing all kinds of bright colors."
no question. yet. i smile politely. i don't know much about aura's. but i guess if i'm going to have one that others can see, a bright multi-colored one is a pretty good one. better than gray. or even chartreuse, if an aura could even handle a color like chartreuse. i'm still smiling.

and there comes the question. "i read palms, do you mind if i read yours?"

"no thanks." i say it nicely.

the moomoo is a fascinating fashion statement. basically, it's like wearing one large button up dress shirt. except you have to be old, and usually a lady. with short grey hair and a weathered face. the two old ladies that just passed me were wearing them. floral patterns at their best. a couple christmas' ago, grandma gave me one of her many moomoo's. it even smells like her. i plan on wearing it when i am old and grey. the short plump one pauses for a moment and smiles me in the eye. i can only guess its because of the many colored aura i am transmitting right now. i smile back from a place inside of me where the color orange lies. orange because she was warm and full of peace, and that's what kind of smile she made me find. her aura was a deep orange. at least that is what i would guess if i could see aura's.

i should have gotten a warm mocha, not an iced one. how was i to know? the crickets are pretty loud tonight. even out on this busy street corner. here she comes again. will she... sure enough. "still not interested?"

"no thanks." i say it nicely.

what a lovely song the night plays. with its colors and sounds and flavors. an aura filled with Life.

battle of the bulge.

twenty-one seconds. one way. twenty-one seconds and i'm suspended inside a small box with buttons in an invisable hole. an elevator. i'm talking about an elevator. i've had a lot of nightmares about elevators. falling. stopping somewhere at the top of a building and suddenly everything breaks. going up at insanely high speeds with no promise of what will eventually stop it. having no control and no way of escaping. no way of getting out of that damn box. falling. and my heart. my heart pounding against my sternum. hitting the ground, and then... blackness.

i figure that these dreams have to do with me feeling out of control, if you're into interperetations. which, i am. i also have dreams about catepillars the size of whales chasing me in the desert, the ground above them rising like it does in the cartoons when bugs bunny is digging his way to china. interperet that.

it feels like christmas outside today. don't ask me why. maybe its the fog. maybe it's the smell of coldness in the air; the being able to feel the difference in temperature between it and your skin. no. its more. its like hope, or something... like a wieghtless day that leaves you full. its a red day. its round. and you smile even if you don't want to. there's just something about that day, isn't there? its... just kind of bursting. today was like that. don't ask me why.

did you know that it is actually possible to die of a broken heart? takotsubo cardiomyopathy. it is a sudden temporary weakening of the muscle of the heart. 'broken heart syndrome'. leave it to japan to give it a name twenty times more awesome. it comes from "tako tsubo", which means octopus trap. i don't know a lot about octopus traps. or how they relate to hearts, really. not to mention broken ones. though, i suppose it has to do something with the fact that traps of any sort have the tendency to maul whatever it is they've trapped. but that's beside the point. the point is, takotsubo cardiomyopathy is a bulging out of the apex of the heart with the preserved function of the base of the heart. strange. the apex. the greatest point. the pinnacle. the climax of that ever strong muscle that keeps us alive. and how strange that it is this, the most important portion of our hearts, that begins to swell when broken. a physical manifestation of our pain. our hearts response to having lost something, or a piece of something, far greater than anything explainable. and its like all that pain and all that love becomes too much for it to bear and so it tries to break free. but it can't, because without it being a part of us for a time we'd be dead. and so our hearts expand. they do the unthinkable so that we can keep on living. and we do, don't we? at least most of us. the swelling eventually goes down. the pain slowly subsides, and our hearts keep on pumping. perhaps stronger than before. takotsubo cardiomyopathy. octopus trap. our hearts are bigger than we know.

twenty-one seconds. twenty-one seconds and i fall in six, give or take a few. depending on what level i'd reached before it snapped. twenty-one seconds and i go up forever. faster. and my heart. my heart could burst. but today... today i think, i'll enjoy the ride.

and i keep on living.

the truth is...

the truth is, my heart is twisting in every direction imaginable. the truth is, i've peeled my skin back and i'm feeling this in the rawest way possible. the truth is, if i could stop my eyes from spilling these tears i would. and the truth is, i have a lot of fighting left in me but i don't know if its needed. the truth is, i haven't been able to breathe as easily. and the truth is, i'd let you go completely if it meant i'd leave you better. the truth is, i've never been more alive, because a part of me has never been more dead. and the truth is, no matter how sick i feel around you, i've never felt more at home. the truth is, i can't do a thing in spite of wanting to do everything. and the truth is, you'll never find another me. the truth is, i realize i can be who i've always hoped to be, and could be. and the truth is, i'll be okay. but the truth is, i wonder if i could have been more okay with you. but the truth is, i can't make you be okay with you first. the truth is, i can't explain anything logically because no matter how hard i try, it doesn't make sense to love you. the truth is, i shouldn't, and i shouldn't let you back. but the truth is, i can't explain it. the truth is, i'd lose all the sleep in the world to stay up and talk to you. and the truth is, no amount of time could fix things, but we have all the time in the world to make it new. the truth is, i'm crazy. the truth is, i don't know what's best for me. and the truth is, everything is more beautiful than i can bear. but the truth... the truth. the truth is, i don't know anything. how to feel, how to hope, how to trust, how to smile, how to cry. the truth is, i'm just...alive. and the truth is, i'm okay.

the truth is, all will be well.

the squid and the smoker.

there was spilled ketchup in the elevator today. it was splattered quite lovely on the floor, and up the sides of the walls below the buttons. it smelled. but there wasn't anything i could do about it once the ride began. a box of buttons and splattered ketchup. "L". that's my stop.

i walked behind a man wearing 'aqua de gio' by giorgio armani on my way to lunch today. i knew it was aqua de gio because that scent has made me crazy since the 9th grade. the first boy i ever liked wore it. i think if heaven were to smell like anything, it would be aqua de gio by giorgio armani. i could have followed that man around for the remainder of the day. but i don't know this man, he just smells good. did you know that perfume contains squid.. stuff? pants told me this. if they put it in perfume, it would only make sense that they might put it in cologne as well. just sayin'.

starbucks is an american travesty. that is why today i decided to go to one and not buy anything. i just made myself at home. i found a wonderful table in the shade among the trees and kicked my feet up. i took my magazine to read, my tunes to listen to and my dr. pepper to drink. dr. pepper, by the by, is unavailable here thus making it even more of a travesty. i was reading the latest 'cosmopolitan', which i found at work. unbeknownst to me, this magazine is largely about sex, beauty, and well.. sex. really, its just about sex. for instance, the cover, which i clearly failed to even look at beforehand, is riddled with the following taglines: "the blended orgasm", "your gyno's secret thoughts about your sex life", "crazy-ass moves he wants you to do to him", "what makes a man fall in love", and topped off with one for safety: "5 places sexual predators look for women" and for the one-two punch in big orange letters: "YOU SEX GODDESS!" a number of thoughts enter my mind after reading these. for one, i don't like the idea of gyno's thinking about thier patients sex lives.. not to mention 'secretly'. i admit i would like to know what makes a man fall in love, but then i imagine it is as much of a mystery to him as it is to me. now lets talk about 'crazy-ass moves'. anything that uses the term 'crazy-ass' deserves some props. so i give props. and lastly, how nice of the powers at be to state so boldly the goddess like abilities of all it's readers. and i thank you. huh. cosmopolitan. quite the read, that magazine. that too, along with starbucks, is now an american travesty.

i was talking to a woman today who started smoking because she had the hots for this good looking man she worked with. he would go out for a smoke break everyday at 10 and 2. ten minutes everyday and she'd have him all to herself... if only she smoked. that was five years ago. one and a half of those years was occupied by him. and their newly shared smoke. before i could hear the rest of her story her cigarette reached its end. she had to go. i've never been more convinced that i should become a smoker.

its what i said. that last paragraph was a complete fabrication. well maybe not a complete one. but a partial one, because it did indeed take place inside my head. my head is filled with words. my head is filled with many eyes, and sometimes i don't know which ones to look out of.

ce la vie.

thank you LA.

the air is cold and balmy. balmy. what a great word. i recently told timmy that i was going to start using this word in my everyday jargon. i just ate a bite full of avocado. i wanted more turkey in that bite, maybe even some more lettuce, or a tomato. anything to give it some more crunch. there's a couple making out on the corner right now. it started as a sort of timid kiss. a foot of air between them, with just their heads leaning in to make the contact. then, after realizing how much they enjoyed it, they stepped together. hands on hips, hands on pecs, and shoulders. smiles. okay, how long are you going to do this? the light is green. they missed their chance to cross.

the sun is starting to go down, turning the sky a deep orange near the bottom, and turning purple then blue, then deep blue. but there's clouds too. they absorb the color like paper towels dipped in grape juice. my legs have goosebumps. i want another bite of my wrap, but that overload of avocado has got me hesitant. duanes is calling...
my location has changed. the same song, picked up right where i left it. damien rice sings about his eskimo friend, and it kind of makes me want to have one. i imagine someone living life in an igloo would have some very interesting perspectives on life. i mean, how do they manage to fire up the stove and cook the days seal (as i imagine that is what they would eat), without melting their house down? anyone who can accomplish this is worth knowing. they understand something i do not.

okay. well i must admit that i've been tanning as of late. i am not proud of this, especially having the beach so easily at my disposal for such purposes. but who has time to go to the beach these days? i have a family to feed. well, i've been tanning, and being as i am, i worked some magic and got the lady to cut me a sweet deal- unlimited tans for a month plus all kinds of other, more advanced tans, and crap like that. then, on her own free will she added in some lotions and stuff. but she really took the cake when she gave me a free lip gloss. now, i was already feeling way too "l.a." at this point, and didn't think it could get much worse until i actually read the label on this deliscious tube of gloss i'd been given. come to find out, this lip gloss was in fact what they like to call "loss gloss". why you might ask, would they call it this? that's right, it has straight up appetite inhibitors in it. just when i thought they had thought of everything. appetite inhibitors!! as in, your so fat that we've even created a lip gloss to prevent you from getting even more fat. next thing i know, they'll be putting this crap in toothpaste. water even. who knows, maybe even the air. and then i'll wake up one day only to realize that the world doesn't eat food anymore. we only drink water.. with appetite inhibitor in it. i mean lets be honest- loss gloss?! now i have to consciously use this only after i have eaten a good hearty meal for the fear of not being able to eat. thank you l.a.

on another note... after i went and tanned my hide today, i drove right past andy dick on a bmx bike. that's right. you heard me correctly. i had just stopped at a stop sign and none other than andy dick himself came riding right past me on his bike in the opposite direction. i laughed out loud at the sight. and i love moments like this. moments where i burst into laughter when i'm all by myself. in the car. in my room. in an elevator. in my empty house. it's one of the most enjoyable things, really. something about it reminds me that i am alive; that life is not as heavy as i often make it out to be. in that regard, l.a. provides for many moments alone with my own laughter.

thank you l.a.

it's alright.

i had them there inside my eyes
the words i wanted to speak
but i looked away and now they're gone
tumbling down tubes, leading to my limbs
loose a leg to get them out
stand up! walk it off

a drop of sugar in your bitter heart
i can't taste the lovely just yet
spit it out, i need a drink
spit it out, my thoughts are burning
like the floors in hell, i'm losing
wake up! your light is humming

we've got the morning ready, lie down
a revolution waiting in the dark
draw the guns, we're fighting
strike the ground, we're running
our faces scream our indecision
get up! we're moving

it's alright, it's alright, it's not your fault
all these things so broken
nothing could have stopped them
it's alright
it's alright

shut up! it's alright.

-me-

the world is a place of wonder.

tonight i'm leaving on a jet plane for florida. that song is basically a pretty sad one. when you think about it, that is. i mean, if he is saying he will return with a wedding ring for the lady, then why does he also say that he doesn't know when he'll be back again? makes me wanna say 'typical'.. but for the fellas out there that do know what they want, i will refrain. because i have met a couple of these fellas.. the one's who know what they want. but i think i have met more that don't know. hell, i haven't known what i've wanted most my life, so i can point no fingers. knowing what you want is probably one of the hardest ventures of life.

but what i was really saying is that i'm leaving on a jet plane tonight for florida. did you know that the highest point in florida is only 300 feet above sea level? that is incredulous. being from colorado, i am pretty sure i would have to dig a hole in the earth a few thousand feet deep to reach a point that was 300 feet above sea level. florida reminds me of an old person. weird things grow there and it is basically falling off into the ocean. yea, i don't know how that correlates with an old person either.

today at lunch i was sitting outside listening to these french people talk. fox has been having screenings the past couple weeks and there have been people from all over the universe here to watch them. today the french people were in abundance. i could have listened to them forever, it was so beautiful. there were three ladies. one of them was smoking. i think french ladies look much sexier than american ladies when smoking. this is a fascinating mystery. then an older gentleman joined them and surprisingly began to dominate the conversation... 'oui. eehh.. le fluers de vie un grande maintenot aujourd oui, comci comca.. tout ca cest deconerie.' you know, stuff like that. i imagined they were talking about lovely things; like how the sky is blue and the air smells like the salt off the ocean. or maybe they were just talking about some screenings.

lately i've been thinking about how sometimes you just have to do simple, everyday things, in bizarre ways. for instance, i was going to push the button for the elevator the other day, and instead of just pushing it calmly with a fingertip, i decided to blast it with a punch. so i punched the button with a furry and got a little laugh out of it. then, when i sat down at my desk after the ride, i noticed that i had taken a chunk out of my knuckle from the punch i gave that button, and it was bleeding all down my finger. it was so awesome. i think tomorrow i'll eat with my left hand and see what happens. i am right handed. or maybe i'll walk backwards in the airport tonight, just to mix it up.

here's two lines i wrote in a poem the other day to duanes-where life dances among weeping willowsand swirls its hues in the most daring flighti like those lines. sometimes its a crazy thing to think about where things like that come from inside of you. maybe there is a part in your heart that transmits lovely, and then it travels up to your brain and out of your lips. how do you maintain the lovely? i wish i knew. but mostly i think it just comes from being alive... and acting like it.

i don't think i have much to say today. a lot of people have been checking out my blog lately. like last week it was over 150 people. where do these people come from? i bet its the same person just reading it over and over, so it makes it seem like a lot. either way, i guess that's pretty cool to know that people actually dig something i think up in my brain.

well, keep on living and keep on rocking. the world is a place of wonder. hahaha.. cheers.

i look good from far away.

it's true. only from far away. i've been looking pretty hideous these days. lack of sleep, rough luck, pre-menopausal hormone tendencies.. i mean, whaaat?! your guess is as good as mine. i'm thinking about never looking in a reflective surface again. at least for a good while. perhaps i'm my own worst critic. whatever the case, i've been having a couple months of the 'uglies'. i'm not even mad, really.

so, i was thinking that it might be really awesome if my eyes were like a mood ring and could change colors depending on my mood. i talked to duanes (hi duanes) about this and he agreed that it would be completely fantastic. i'm pretty glad about this idea, because usually my mood color with rings is green, and so i imagine that if my eyes were accurate, they would stay green the majority of the time. if i ever get laser eye correction, i am definately asking them if this is a possibility, and if they could just go ahead and add that procedure on top of the laser one.
the other day i got a parking ticket right as i was getting back to my car. all that stuff that people say about women being able to get out of tickets better than men, is a lie. either that, or my skillz have taken a drastic, and startling, plummet for the worse. that ass face. women are just people too, i guess. like men. i had always hoped that we women were a little bit magical. i'll still hedge my bets that we are. in the end, i made sure to thank him for doing his job. that's just the kind of person i am.

i had a dream the other night that timmy body slammed makena and then i body slammed his life for body slamming an infant. it was terrible. amidst the body slamming, there was a furrious wind storm going on. we never did find out if makena was okay after receiving such a slamming. way to go timmy.

as i always say, love and let love. until next time...

she left her lipstick on the lid.

there, in the trashcan. it had her kisses all over it. ruby red and warm. i wonder if she wore high heels, and a power suit. maybe a skirt. a power one. whoever it was, most ladies that wear that much lipstick wear suits of power. at least that is what i presume.
i wear flats. and never lipstick. except maybe once or twice for a special occasion. but even then, i did not enjoy it as that lid did. and i will most certainly never own a power suit. the only suit i will own is an awesome suit, if they even existed.

sauerkraut is a very unpleasant thing to eat. yesterday, i got a rueben sandwich and it was covered in sauerkraut. i forgot to ask the chef to leave it off. this is unfortunate, because even if i take it all off, my sandwich will still taste like the remnants of sauerkraut. gross.
i wonder if crossing your legs really does cause spider veins. if so, i may end up having some highly decorated ones. all day i sit here, switching back and forth. one leg on top of the other. after a while, they start to ache. i think i'll start working standing up. perhaps i'll throw in a couple laps around the office sporadically as well, just to keep the blood flowing. can't have spiders making their home in me.

my mom always taught me that a real woman must always 'have her lips on'. one time, on take your daughter to work day, my mom and sister and i spent the day removing wallpaper from the living room wall. but before we started, my mom made us put our lips on. she said that even if your at home by yourself doing woman things, you still have to put them on. she wore bright red. if you knew my mom, this color makes a lot of sense. my sister wore it too, for similar reasons. i wore dark maroon. i would have worn nothing, but with a bright red mom and a bright red sister i knew that wasn't possible. i suppose i might have worn a pale rose if it were available, but something that subtle just wasn't mom. she leaves her mark on most everything. bright red. bright red and loud.