I'm Still Smiling From His Words.

I went to a rockabilly show last night that left me pleasantly surprised by actually being good. I thought it was going to be an emo cover band. Yeah, so, imagine the uberness of expecting emo and getting rockabilly. There was no one there to swing dance with, though, which seemed a shame. Instead, I danced with my camera the entire night.

If anyone happens to read this and wants to see some of the photos I've taken recently, ch-check it out at:

http://photos.yahoo.com/euc_lupine

Let me know what you think!

They were really good, actually. 

Demoness. 

On Empty

got nervous,
started whistling
every thought a ricochet.
did you notice
while i wonder
what's the worst thing I could say?
frozen inside
(you don't belong here.)

What would love be without wishful thinking...

Work Ourselves.

If I get scared, I’ll just call you… I’ll fly your colors and find solace in the belief that this beacon surely will not be missed. I will never settle, this much I promise you.

Well, you’re through it then. (Am I?) A year ago I was an entirely different woman. I’m not sure that I would say I’m proud of her, but she needed to get through that, as I need to get through this (here and now.) My dreams and thoughts are of a place that I can’t go to, yet, yet, that damnable abstraction. That this is what it took is annihilating. And there you have it.

Four is of strength, stability, nature. I don’t know how far a life has to break, but I am determined now to never find out. I think that I know now, what it meant all those times when they put the past behind them and resolved to say simply, "forward."

Forward, march!

I have squandered my joy by caring too much what others think. J’en ai trop pris! Eyes open, hand full of wheel. From now on, as much as I am able.

Robochacha

I hung my Evergreen diploma on one of the walls in my office yesterday. It looks good there. So good that I'm thinking about getting another one... I started looking over my GRE math book last night and began to seriously consider Grad School, again. I think that within the next few months I'll get the GRE out of the way. That I'm doing math tutoring twice a week makes the current time period opportune.... you know what the russians said, "Strike while the iron is hot!"

Last night I wrote something beautiful. I'll post it later. As for now, my boss is careering about the office with her usual tempestuousness, and I have no capacity to deal with it. The knives are out today.

Hey Peanut.

Minor instances of extreme agitation, how to prevent these things from occuring. What I feel is an inability to communicate properly and it stems from a lack of precident and also insecurity and a level of interest plagued by entropy. We are pushing to the collapse. This weekend it very nearly happened. Held my tongue and now what route? What route.

It's funny, that Amelia keeps talking to me about eq. And I even actually logged on for 5 minutes Saturday, thinking it might be fun again. (It was more like time-travel.) Although the last VoQ that Neru had ever given me was still there, as was the Brell's from Zorth and some agility that may have been thanks to Nyz, too far removed now to remember. And I thought how wonderful, to have met so many awesome people via such an obscure and random venue. How wonderful now as well, that all of our lives are filled with other things. Not better, just ... other. Marianne was right when she described the world as a place in which the marvelous could appear at any moment.

I found a poem he had given me early on, remembered what it was like to be understood. The poem was full of that secret language we would use, cut right to the core. Such a nice feeling.

I Must Break You.

I went for a super long run last night, through the warm and exciting air that invades Oberlin in the summer. There's some electricity to it that defies explanation. When I say super long, I mean that I was shocked and amazed at the endurance with which my feet kept pounding out their prehistoric drum beat on the asphalt and tall grass lawns. I kept thinking to myself, "I run because I want to beat my body, and make it my slave." The Jesus (tm) abs (this is a term coined by anne) are coming back, last night I could feel their strength fueling my legs' determination. I ran past the house where I used to see Jaco's Ghost and thought how cyclical and beautiful and wonderful things can be. This post is in tribute to summer, and all the cool stuff I'm going to get accomplished. And to the sweet ass vein that bulges out of my forearm of late, pulsing with all of its diesel-like goodness.

Can't Stand It.

I was right it turns out, about everything. It doesn't matter that you are one of perhaps one thousand. What the hell does it matter if you never meet 95% of that thousand.

Weakness, or strength? You exist, and that is strength. You don't know why you're going, or where you're going; go in everywhere, ask everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.

What you have to do is not settle. There is such a phenomenal level of bullshit surrounding these undertakings of men.

I am
a handful of wheel
and a day off
and a bruised road.

Women! They want to subjugate and demonize you because they are afraid of your quality. In your heart you know that it's true, stop settling for less than you deserve. (I know who I want but it would probably be improbable. For now at any rate.)

Stop thanking us as though we saved your life. It's all just adventure.

Yeah, Rock Out, Whatever.

Oh my god, Anne's job is hard. It's not yet even 3:30 and my head is pulsating like there's a tribal drumbeat contest going on up there. I can't think straight. I think I might snap. One of the clients asked me how I stay so thin. Wtf? Must be my steady diet of tuna fish, chocolate, and coffee. I'm like crookshanks, the feline version.

Last night they were trying to put the entertainment system together, and I had a few errands to run. 45 minutes later I got back and he was all bitchy, I asked what the problem was and he just gave me this haughty reply, something about "y" and "x" not being "x" and "y." I asked what the specific problem that he was having was, and he snapped off a "didn't I just answer that?" His assishness doesn't really phase me anymore, because it's just so goddamn transitory. It's sort of like dealing with a petulant child; you just need to be patient and realize that they're operating from Planet Fragile Ego. I asked again. "It's impossible, there are too many cords and wires, I've been working on this for 45 minutes, I give up, it's all fucked up." I sat down behind the tv and got it working in under 30 seconds. Vic at least was proud of me. I wish that people could just be nice, for Chrissakes.

I know that I'll meet someone who it'll work out with. Fuck, maybe I won't, I really don't give a shit anymore. I'm in no hurry. I know that all guys aren't egomaniacs with dispositions prone toward jerkitude. So whatever, I'm just going to do my thing, I have nothing to prove to anyone. God though, just shut the hell up and crawl under a rock somewhere if you can't be nice to even those "closest" to you. What the fuck, you know?

Sunday when I was at Mom and Dad's, Mom said to me, "how are things going? Passable at least?" I wondered how I must have appeared to have elicited the question. "Passable," I replied, and realized just how long it's been since I felt concern in my direction. It was so touching that my eyes misted just a little. God, that's lame! 500, emily. Who gives a fuck how thin the ice is that you're about to land on. Your body is screaming for you to jump, and so you do it.

A Function of Exasperation

He's a jar
with a heavy lid
my pop quiz kid
a sleepy kisser
with feelings hid
He begs me not to miss him.

He says forever
to light a fuse
we could use
a hand full of wheel
and a day off
and a bruised road
however you might feel
tonight is real

When I forget how to talk I freeze
won't you please
bring that flash to shine
and turn my eyes red
unless they close
when you click
and my face gets sick
stuck
like a question unposed.

Please beware the quiet front yard
I warned you
before there were water skies
I warned you not to drive
dry your eyes you poor devil

Are there really ones like these?
The ones I dream
float like leaves
And freeze to spread skeleton wings
I passed through before I knew you

He's a jar
with a heavy lid
my pop quiz kid
a sleepy kisser
a pretty war
my feelings hid
he begs me not to hit him.

Kidsmoke

They looked just like us, and one played balance-beam on the parking bumper while the other stood resolutely, face to the wind, hair like bleached wheat trailing behind her. They both got into the back seat, just like we would have, they looked just like us.

How absolutely perfectly beautiful.