i've gone too far.

so, welcome to the 21st century. the age in which blogging is basically like having a cell phone; you have one or else you are considered old school and out of touch. but i'm afraid we, at least i, have perhaps gone too far. not only do i blog, but i have at least four different locations in which i do this trendy tradition. there's the original, which i started long before blogging was ever a fad. then there's the classic myspace blog, the blogspot blog (yep, this one), and then there's the newly introduced joint blog in which a small group of us have banded together to create a force stronger than the average one person, one voice blog. all of these can be found here:

the OG of blogs
myspace
the joint blog

some of these blogs overlap, and you can find many of the same entries on differing sites. maybe this is due to the 'i have trouble fully committing to just one thing slash there is always something better out there' attitude of our generation, in which case i have, though i hate admiting it, become a pathetic part of. what has become of us... of me? why must i feel that to blog is to somehow give meaning to this mysterious thing that i call my life? and does everybody else do it for this reason too? sometimes i think that we have all lost ourselves in this world of cyberness so much that the only way we can feel like we are still actually alive is to put our 'lives' up on these screens where they will actually be viewed from time to time; these places where those that choose to read will sit, if but for a moment, and spend time with us. even now, i feel as if i am somehow sitting down with a friend, you, to share some part of me that you might not have thought to stop and see otherwise. *sigh*

i can't keep up with this. what is happening here people? chances are you'll read this and then go blog about it, and i suppose i can't be too mad about it really...

to , forever

to , forever

a cold window, death will not forgo
crawling out skinny and slow
cut me loose to fall below
these hearts are strings we drag along

i wore my soul upon my song
a sound you've heard for so so long
twisting whiles have all proved wrong
these fools whose secrets now become

a picture hangs and starts to hum
the slow beginning to the end to come
threw our love among the sum
these crows that feed on you and i

stepping out to catch this goodbye
before these sails where we lived wither and die
building a fortress as our reply

these words, to , forever and free

a heart is beating.

a heart is beating
one two
and
the door breaks down

so darkness calls
but all is not dark
and your heart
it beats

one
two
one two

the fear inside
you'll know it better
take its hand
and walk

one
two
one two
one two

first you fall
but you're still
beating
one two

one
two

come back
find me, i'm beaten
my heart
its beating

one two
one
two
one two

our heart is beating
we're alive

one two one two
one two

i have discovered...

i have discovered that pablo neruda is one of the greatest poets to have ever existed. for example:

sonnet VIII
if your eyes were not the color of the moon,
of a day full [here, interrupted by the baby waking -- continued about 26
hours later ]
of a day full of clay, and work, and fire,
if even held-in you did not move in agile grace like the air,
if you were not an amber week,

not the yellow moment
when autumn climbs up through the vines;
if you were not that bread the fragrant moon
kneads, sprinkling its flour across the sky,

oh, my dearest, i could not love you so!
but when i hold you i hold everything that is --
sand, time, the tree of the rain,

everything is alive so that i can be alive:
without moving i can see it all:
in your life i see everything that lives.

are you even serious with those last three lines? my heart explodes. i am nothing. i am everything. i posted my favorite poem of his a while back called 'if you forget me'... as such-

everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

read it. i read his words to remind myself that there are human beings who have loved so deeply that this kind of beauty comes spewing out of them; and i long for it to spew out of me.

i have discovered that music and solitude can make me forget how small i am compared to the whole rest of the world.

i have discovered that edamame is one of the greatest and best things to eat. at all times. on any occasion. yay for soy beans.

i have discovered rooftop nights in the summer drinking beer and smoking cloves with timmy to be one of the most fun activities this side of heaven. ok. i can think of a few other things that are just as fun.

i have discovered that trying to come back to life requires good people and more beauty than my pathetic soul can handle. this also includes beers on stoops, laughing, cameras- of all kinds, birds flying, and otter pops, to name a few.

i have discovered that love is the best and worst thing we could ever be asked to do in life. and i have discovered that no matter how saving or how destroying it can be, i must have it to stay alive. i must have it to keep others alive. i have discovered that love can only enlarge us, and if it isn't, then it is not real love.

i have discovered many a thing yet to be discovered...

"everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night." -rainer maria rilke-

i have discovered that everything is blooming most recklessly... and i love it.

vegas, baby, vegas!

i'm in vegas this whole week 'on business' and it is ridiculous. i'm staying in the palms, home of the playboy suite, and fox basically has the whole entire 31st floor at our disposal, which includes the pimp ass suite of all awesomeness at the end of the hall. now, this suite is basically bigger than most peoples households and goes for about 35k a night. there's an infinity pool that hangs off the edge of the tower and a circular rotating bed; there's a whole wall that is a fountain and flows down into a pool of majesty inside overlooking the las vegas strip. there's a full bar and about 20 bathrooms and a few rooms; a sauna and some tread mills. what the eff. i don't even know where i am right now. oh yeah. vegas, baby, vegas! and i'm drunk. did i mention that? yea, that's right. it's only 7:30pm and i've already had at least 3.5 mixed drinks by the bartender johnny. johnny has lived here for 5 years and wants to be an actor. he's from chicago. how i know this, i'm not sure. perhaps i talk a lot when i'm tipsy. i also talked to one of the security men for a while and he was telling me all about all the wild and crazy celebrity parties that have gone on in this very suite and i was like, 'listen. i am from la. big woop.' he thought he was awesome though. i mean, maybe he was.

the things about vegas i have noted thus far:
- cute little granny's. i'm telling you. the number one fan's of slot machines are cute little wrinkly grandma's. it's adorable. but i'm sure if i were to take the time to try to talk to one of them i would come to find that they are heartless old hags who just pass the time playing slots while they try to avoid thinking about the fact that they are just... old.

- elevators. i'm on the 15th floor. therefore, to get up to the 31st and then back down to mine, i have to go all the way down, transfer elevators and then go back up. i don't mind this. but for one, the elevator music is bomb. i mean, we're talking jay-z and lil wayne, britney spears and freakin' 2pac. it's like a party every time i step into one of those things. last night, i stepped onto one elevator and was appalled at the strong scent of perfume that still lingered in that small little box. then, as i stepped onto the next, i was equally appalled that it too smelled of a different perfume. what's the deal? i mean, i'm not complaining, but seriously how much perfume is needed here ladies?

- i'm drunk.

thank you. and goodnight.

tonight i'll write.

tonight i'll write.  and i'll let these daunting melodies crawl down inside of me until i swallow them whole.  i'll try my hardest to do this before they become the ones actually swallowing me, though i fear they have already begun to.  tonight i'll write; i'll write until i disappear.  i'll write until i stop wondering what it is i even want to write.  and it's been so long since i've tried any of this.  sometimes i don't know who i am becoming; who i am; who i even want to be.  and sometimes i don't even know if i care anymore... or if i ever cared.  and how am i supposed to know?  how am i supposed to know what i am supposed to want for myself?  how am i supposed to know if you are right for me, or if i am right for you?  how am i supposed to know, when i feel like i don't know anything?  and am i really confused, or am i just pretending?  am i just afraid?  so what am i so afraid of?  and i can feel my legs go out from under me; i'm being swallowed.  swallowed by myself.  swallowed by a voice that screams a whispering cry so faint that all i can do is feel its ache.  i ache for you.  i ache for me; to know me.  my joys become you.  my fears are set free about you and i somehow make them grow.  just want me.  i want you, badly.  

tonight i'll write.  but my arms are next to go... and i'm swallowed.   

that is something.

maybe i feel this way because it's been far too long since i've actually spoken any words on what it is i'm really feeling.  what am i feeling?  i wish i could feel nothing.  i wish i could feel everything.  and i am.  nothing and everything.  love and hate.  happiness and sadness.  anger and joy.  peace and turmoil.  and i don't know what to keep and what to let go.  

and i hate it.  but i love it because it makes me hate.  and that is something.  

all at the same time.

a cup of coffee that causes overwhelming feelings of humanity. why can't i write anything? it's one of those nights, warm and cool all at the same time. i want to be near you, and i'm tired of missing you. and i feel so fucking alive right now that i just want to explode. alive and dead. all at the same time. and everything keeps on moving- the people on the street, the smoke from my lungs, the sun into the sea... and i feel like i don't know how to make myself big enough to mean anything. 

big hair and skinny jeans, a brown leather jacket and red ballet shoes. she's caught in an era long passed, but she's moving. and she leaves a trail of red wherever she goes. the piano plays under these big umbrellas. bamboo shades to keep the sun out. too much time to think and not enough room to fit it all. if i shut out all these words they'll only find another place hide, and then they'll speak there. maybe i'm crazy. maybe it's like this for everyone. too much and not enough. 

a constant conflict of true and false. all true and all a lie, all at the same time. and it's maddening.