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.

shit.

shit. fuck even. its just one of those days. i feel ugly. not neccessarily on the outside, but from the inside. i feel like too much and not enough. too much for someone to know how to love well, but not enough to keep them captivated. not enough for anyone. and i fear there is no one on this earth that is capable of actually knowing how to handle me, or even wanting to; all my shit, all my fucked up thoughts and feelings and all the ways i carry around old hurts and old joys. i am a pile of battered faces. i am a heap of bruises. i am a mystery and i am a song that's been overplayed. shit.



there's something about love that i cannot enter into. not yet. and maybe never. its this deep, abysmal unknown, amazing, brutal, tear you to fucking shreds part of love that i just can't seem to grasp. and the deeper i go in allowing myself to love someone, to be loved back, the more and more i see this dark hole approaching, and it scares the hell out of me. because i know that it is both horrifying and glorious. i don't know if i am ready for that. the thought of reaching that point with another human being... well, it seems near impossible. i have never gotten so close to this realm of love as i am right now in my life. and even then, it is far from close. i feel too small for this. there must have been some kind of mistake. some kind of mixup in the creating of human kind, for this kind of love is too big. it's too big for anyone or anything to even begin to know how to be a part of. and so it ends up destroying us in every way. or maybe it doesn't. maybe it saves us in every way. my words stop here because i begin to linger on the edge of the unknown. i want to be destroyed. i want to be saved. i want to be completely engulfed and enraptured and compelled by this place of love. i want to find my home there. i have to. everything i thought i knew about love, i don't. everything i thought i knew about knowing how to love well, i don't. everything i thought i knew about letting myself be loved, i don't. my heart is a blank canvas. i am covered in red. i see something completely brand new. i never knew this kind of love was real; this kind that goes so far beyond friend love, family love. its a choice.

i am an empty name. i am a box of suggestions; an answer to a question never asked. shit.

cold hands, warm heart.

it's fa-reezing in here. fingers white and my toes are blue. cold hands, warm heart they say. cold heart, i'm a hands free human. a kid with no eyes. warm eyes. i eyes. goodbye my heart. overheated and oversized. hold my hands around my heart. barefoot truth all wrapped in threads. unsew my veins, the red runs free. warm hands, many hearts. one heart. it's mine it's mine, and it's growing. everythings tied together. with love.

i'll be your pocket, full of pictures. full of places we should be. warm and bright. fingers and toes. dip them lightly, the red runs free. two beats till morning, wake up next to you. one two, one two... one two. a chest that moves. a chest that speaks. a heart that beats. beat. beat it senseless and watch it leak. your heart, my heart. our heart. a pocket full of punches. a pocket full of love.

hang the gloves.

cold hands and warm hearts we have.

i have nothing to say.

wrote this a time ago...

i have nothing to say. i have nothing to say, and so i won't say it. i won't say that i'd like to soak all of the yellow out of the sun, or that if there were a way to trap a star and put it by my bedside i would. i won't say it. because i have nothing to say. nothing like the birds outside and nothing like the tapping of the raindrops on my windshield. i won't say that i don't have things all figured out and i won't say that i haven't found some peace, because i have nothing to say. nothing like your smile or the gold ring around your pupils, and nothing like the Life from your lips. i won't say it. i won't say that i'd like to fly with the birds even though i'm afraid of heights, or that i wish i had the courage to live the way i know i was made to. and i won't say that most days my heart feels like it is hanging outside of my chest and that my feet feel nothing of the ground beneath me. i have nothing to say. nothing of the happiness i am breathing; nothing of fear and nothing of being alive.

i have nothing to say. and so i won't say it.

love will save the world.

i should go to sleep. the morning always comes faster than i anticipate. but i have to write. what, i don't know. maybe nothing of any significance. maybe just some thoughts so i can actually get to sleep tonight. i don't know.

he'll be calling any moment now. its become a habit that i almost need in order to feel i've soaked up all i could from the day. but i think maybe i am changing. i don't know how to do this. i've been realizing a lot of things lately. the doozy is that i have never let myself believe that i can actually have the very best. and so i never have. i've almost allowed myself to go as far as not even being able to recognize what that is; what it means...to have the very best. it seems a foriegn concept still. my heart is a traitor. it has told me for far too long that to want anything greater for myself is asking too much; is asking for the absurd. it tells me that i can't go on. it convinces me to stay where i am and simply survive. well i say fuck that. i love my heart, but it can be a bitch sometimes. i've finally started telling it to only speak to me when it has something good to say. and i am finally listening. and the thing is, it has been saying these things all along. sometimes shouting, sometimes but quitely whispering.

and i see that when a thing is dead, it will speak death. when a thing is alive, it will speak life.

my heart is beating back to life. i hear it. and it hurts. but goodness does it feel wonderful. to see that i hold something the world needs is an amazing and terrifying thing, and frankly i've always thought this to be a rediculous thought. after all, i'm just a person. but there is something in me that must be unleashed. and it is banging louder than ever. i am beginning to love who i am. and loving this only expands the massive amounts of love i have inside of me to give other people. but this type of love scares me. it is far bigger than me. it can tear me apart and it can destroy lives... in the best way possible. and i want it to. and for once, i want this for myself. something has stirred me. someone has stirred me. and i suppose it is many things.

i don't know what i'm saying really. but my life is about to be destroyed. i can feel it. and i couldn't possibly be more thrilled about it. so come on love. come on life, hope, fear, joy, pain, darkness. i invite you in. for my heart is a place of wonder, and i've only just begun.