this song is about you

Writer's Block: Romance!

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 06:45:50 GMT

What's the most romantic thing you have done for someone?

Submitted by kaitosleepz

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i waited. i waited. i waited.

Writer's Block: Less Than Idle Hands

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 03:12:19 GMT

Do you have any odd nervous habits?

Submitted by theonlyink

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a memory of los angeles. sitting on the bus, i can't help but stare at her fingers, at her feet, and at everything above but below her neck. don't cry, i'm thinking, she's not yours to keep. i'm thinking and clicking my teeth in time to the syllables of her story.

a woman in red. click click clack clock cleek. she knits. click click. she is sad. she loves. she is human like all of us. click click clack clock-click click-click-click until i'm grinding and gritting my eyes against the tears forming in my head. the anxiety that creeps because i can't see her face, can't lift my eyes past the point of her chin until i've drowned her in gratings of teeth. the steadily louder crushing harder powdering of enamel.

this is for sarcazm

Wed, 07 May 2008 05:30:25 GMT

wordpress blog syndicated at telefission. can add it here. i only receive comments directly posted to wordpress.

guess what, fools

Tue, 06 May 2008 22:15:52 GMT

i'm off the livejournal. yeah, that's right. see ya, suckers. (on wordpress. cause that's where i'll be.)

fond farewells, and etc.

Mon, 05 May 2008 17:56:46 GMT

p: so how many people are at your house?
j: i dunno. three?
p: so you went to denny's, where there are even more?
j: no one tries to talk to me here unless they're bringing me food
p: you would be so easy to infiltrate

stalker snacks

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 07:11:03 GMT

16:22 made www.porn-bread.com/bukkake.htm because i am a 13 year old boy. #

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it was so hot today

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 05:35:57 GMT

it was so hot today. walked fast to create a breeze against my face, and slow to conform sloshing liquids back to cups huddled in fear on my palm. "my face is red, isn't it?" dab-dabbed with a brown paper towel. "little bit. preeetty."

during a lull: two fingertips on my elbow, followed by pouty-warm puffs brushing wisps of my hair. guidance in the form of bare touch, slight graze, in gentlest exodus to the freezer. shut us in! let's stay forever in cold cohabitation. i like the shape of your breath.

the door muffled our names, but with jobs like ours, it's hard not to know when we're being called. could feel--almost see--the freeze peeling off our skin. stood close to each other to conserve the cold, which heated us that much faster.

stalker snacks

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 07:06:21 GMT

02:55 i want my own domain. but i don't want to pay for it. i want the internet to just give it to me, like as a present for being nice. #

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"Write about boobs." two beers, two cigarettes and two doors albums later, this is what i have.

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 09:48:17 GMT

seated across from him, she wondered how it was he had drawn her to begin with. it couldn't have been his face, about which she could make neither besotted declarations nor scathing remarks. after months of collecting evidence that he lived, she found herself unconvinced that it mattered at all.

"what?" he asked, wrinkling his brow in unknowing rebellion against her physical assessment of him.

people changed, she knew. knew every second brought new sense-confronting details to morph minds closer, close to last thoughts before death. and faces, they flinched, smiled wrinkled and sagged, and his was no exception.

it was smiling now, lips unsealing to draw in the breath to say.. no, just to breathe, and to expose the yellow tint to his teeth. but now, now to say, "you keep looking at me. what are you thinking? what are you looking for?"

she tried to choose her words with care, but couldn't locate care enough for success.

"a reason not to write you off," she said, moving only her lips and the tip of her tongue. she imagined no effect on her inevitable corpse; this was not a man who could scar or soothe.

its own lips thinned, tugging smile into grimace-threatening shadow. he didn't wear disappointment well, his face seemed to say. but he could change; it was changing already, forming a wrinkle between his eyes that preluded a chuckle hairs shy of charming.

"well i'm thinking about your breasts."

she twitched. "typical." she froze.

"yep," he drawled. and droll-ed. and drank, creating waves in his cup to drain with his mouth, changing shapes in his cheeks and in canals to other parts of him.

"you drew me," she said, willing more than his bladder to be receptive in him. "drew my form with your eyes. four months ago. you traced me out, and i've been tracing you ever since."

"you sound like a crazy bitch." his brow wrinkled, smoothed, moving his eyes to crinkle and harden. "i don't remember you though. must've been staring at your chest."

"you keep changing," she huffed, shoulders lifting a notch and falling past perception. "your face. and your tone of voice."

"people change," he shrugged.

"i know," her face spat, contorting with enthusiasm. she cupped her breasts. "these change, too."

"now we're getting somewhere!"

"don't hoot."

he held his hands out, mimicries of peace, face transmuted to reflect helplessness.

"this is meaningless," she realized even as she spoke the words. "you keep changing, but not in ways that i particularly like."

his shoulders stilled as he realized on his own. "you are bat-shit crazy insane."

the assumption compelled her to thrust truth upon him. "you can't change me!" her face opened, then crumpled, rounded eyes and widened mouth closing in on themselves with the expulsion of words.

"damn right about that," he muttered, to himself but for her, and stood up. walked away. grew smaller. disappeared.

that night, she brought her hands to her breasts once again. when she squeezed them, she felt she was wringing her lungs, and cried despite her difficulty with breath.

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 08:52:22 GMT

i finally re-read the book-like project i finished and never edited in 2004. it's actually a series of verbal portraits of single people whose lives intermingle, highlighting unavoidable interactions against this elemental backdrop of loneliness. with the poorest execution ever.

i'm hurting my brain thinking of how many ways one can read "the poorest execution ever."

Jonah was dehydrated. Jonah was primarily dehydrated; he tried drinking water, but it only made him want to piss. He hated that feeling, the discomfort of needing something now.

At work he googled information on the detrimental effects of dehydration. When his boss called him in, he dragged himself to with a solemnity only a man sentenced to death by thirst may possess.

"You're a detriment to this company," said Dick, Jonah's boss.

So Jonah left. But not before climbing atop Dick's desk, bending down with his tush in the air to nudge Dick's nose with his own and saying, "A detriment to the company? That's the least of both our problems. My dehydration is a detriment to me! Your face is a detriment to you!"

"Contain yourself, Jonah!" Dick said, pressing his back into the spine of his chair. "Why don't you just drink something?"

"I can't," Jonah said wearily, lowering himself from the desk. "You don't understand."

Jonah was primarily dehydrated, but he was secondarily hopeless.

jonah's story lasts 28 pages. his name is jonah because i was listening to jonah's onelinedrawing at the time i started writing about him.

i'll allow you to estimate for yourselves the number of times i cringed while undergoing this voyage into my younger mind. here's a hint: whatever you're counting, it's not high enough. in one part, i go on a three-page gust-by-gust account of wind traveling. enough said?

also from 2004:

"don't let yourselves end up like me.

1. i am drinking alone
2. i am drinking in the middle of the day
3. i am drinking while doing a write-up on a story i have neither started nor finished reading
4. i will neither go out nor allow anyone to come over because i am so sucked into the process of drinking alone"

i guess i haven't changed much.

i never know what to write about anymore. internet is getting hard. i would like to practice my writing more, so if you have topics--any topics, ranging from grass to baseball to heartbreak--please just mention them to me, via whatever. i tried partaking in lj's "writer's block" questions, but they pissed me off too much. i am going through a topical drought of epic proportions, and writing about real life events has been feeling a lot like stabbing needles underneath my fingernails.

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 07:04:31 GMT

i know the number of people who read this journal is dwindling, which only makes it easier to say nothing at all. i'm sorry i let you down?

for a long while, only annoying customers came in. regular, annoying customers who tip hardly at all. which is not precisely the source of my annoyance with them.

and then some good regulars, and some nice irregulars, and suddenly the night wasn't so bad. work isn't so bad. in fact, i enjoy it probably more than i should. it doesn't make me depressed, and for that i think it deserves a valor-based award.

one of my favorites told me today, "that's why i like you. you always give me shit." it reminded me of something another customer told me, which was that "you're deceptively dark-natured, but you wear it well." he's a writer. i told him, "you're deceptively svelte, but you eat like we could be friends." he laughed and laughed.

the kid still calls me. i can feel hurt boiling inside of him, readying itself to bubble over and out, turning to rancor with exposure to air. i want to make him feel better now without making him feel worse in the future. impossible, she says. murder, she wrote.

i know from experience that it's better to hurt now than to hold your breath, to wait, and to hope, and to imagine over and time and again how it would be, how it could be if they would just. if they could like me enough, have compassion enough to just. BE DIFFERENT. but having someone different is worse than having no one at all. take it from one who knows.

take it. from one. who knows.

if only it were that easy.

stalker snacks

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 06:15:07 GMT

12:22 At the dmv. It smells. #

12:35 Everyone looks so happy to be here. #

13:08 I think we've all learned a valuable lesson here: when you send someone to the dmv in your stead, nothing significant can be accomplished. #

13:20 but i did spy on some children i29.tinypic.com/2lbc8c3.jpg #

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drinking, smoking, pining, stabbing myself in the chest

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 23:22:17 GMT

everything i do is bad for my heart. which means i need to eat more bacon.

stalker snacks

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 06:14:25 GMT

11:45 people all want favors at the same time. so far this week: 7 favors. i have dicking around to catch up on, fools! #

11:54 someone e-mailed me about publishing my unfinished naruto fanfic. this would be even funnier if it weren't april fool's. #

13:25 @zac_in_ak i work as a waitress. what about you? #

16:33 reading scholarly articles on victorian poetry. crazy bitches, all of them. #

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stalker snacks

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 06:12:48 GMT

13:33 Grandparents are with a vietnamese dentist. Looking for someone to translate vietnamese into english so i can translate to korean. #

13:47 The situation is getting complicated. Poor grandpa: deaf, failing sight and now with broken fake teeth. #

14:26 Phone battery dying. Borrowing phone from band of thuggish korean youths to continue translation tangle. Meanwhile, stuck in bfe. #

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stalker snacks

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 06:15:54 GMT

11:53 changing my mind. #

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something something something

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 08:42:27 GMT

"it's hard to deal with all your personalities. you're happy, you're down, you're depressed, you're really happy again."
"those aren't personalities. those are called 'emotions.'"
"on you they're personalities."

my life as a woody allen movie.

i'm busy warding against depression. organization, cleaning supplies and endorphins to the rescue. alternating aerobics with pilates to be strong like a tree with a heart wringing dry every circle that appears (under eyes mostly, with guest appearances around my wrists and on my thighs, damn bumpers).

your hands in mine shrink my fingers,
shrink my clothes, until i smell like
the devastation of periodic life.

in math, i draw graphs over hearts
around your name. i am ruthless in
the scratching of lessons into books.

now, in my skin, i can feel what you've done.
drawn strings-- not hearts, but circles around me
so the further you walk, the deeper they dig, and
when you're very far, it is very hard to breathe.

stalker snacks

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 06:14:58 GMT

08:15 By all means, if i'm not answering the door, please feel free to alternate pounding and ringing the doorbell FOREVER. #

21:09 lost my phone again. i guess that means i'm not going out tonight. #

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stalker snacks

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 06:14:07 GMT

14:34 my computer just started chirping at me. i am still drnk from last night. oh my god what is happening. #

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stalker snacks

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 06:13:51 GMT

15:18 dad assigned me to make some calls for him. currently on hold for the third time in a row, listening to muzak. WHY IS THIS MY LIFE. #

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDITH

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 04:24:36 GMT

i never knew how
having a sister would feel
until i met you.

stalker snacks

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 06:18:29 GMT

18:35 Work unbearably slow tonight. Arguing with chef; just told him his mind is small. Sick of him saying how lucky i am to be happy. Grumpy now. #

21:37 Chef made me special delicious treat. I feel horrible. #

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stalker snacks

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 06:13:00 GMT

02:22 people never believe me when i say that "scary" movies really scare me. childhood was bad enough! stop trying to traumatize me further. #

10:43 Can't find my work shirt & already late. Obviously had to waste more time by texting about it. #

14:53 Eating as much as i can in between WORKING ALL DAY. I hate weekends. #

15:54 Craigslist deleted my posting! How am i supposed to find true love if fuckers keep flagging me? #

21:31 There is no time to groom. I will have to rely on personality, which gives me a growing sense of doom. #

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quit cockblocking me, craigslist!

Sat, 22 Mar 2008 23:08:25 GMT

my flagged and deleted post:

Title: (misc romance) sometimes i'm sober, if you like that sort of thing - w4m

Neurotic, passably cute Asian female with a grotesque imagination ISO sexy man to engage in extended mind games punctuated with mutual blasts of rage.

I have: a useless degree, lots of cheap liquor, a fondness for narcotics, a shitty job, insomnia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and a ridiculously nasty temper complemented nicely by creative criticisms of the nonconstructive sort.

You have: a nice smile, huge paycheck and monster cock.

Will respond in first-come, first-served manner. Hurry before bitches run out!

at least it provided a few hours of response-reading entertainment during the six hours it stayed up.

anyway, just letting the world know i'm on the prowl, so if you have any single friends you don't like.. WINK.

must run back to work. i was late this morning not because i overslept, but because of my destructive addiction to laying in bed doing nothing when i actually have shit to do. boo hoo my life.

stalker snacks

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 06:16:37 GMT

11:30 um, i lost my voice. i guess i will be presenting the specials via sign language. #

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