Raw

And walking, he lead her through a blizzard of characters.

She was aware of him and he was aware of her.
And being so aware of him
she was consequently aware of his awareness of her, making her aware of herself.
Aware of each other, aware of themselves.
Always there, not being able to put it into words.

She can't put him into words.

Another way to say...

There's something amazing about singing outside. A crisper, cleaner sensation.
I am dull knife made sharp once again.
Some kind of nostalgia has resurfaced, and I think I've uncovered something.
It's that,
I haven't done this in a while.
Curse the creepy girl on my street, walking with me. She breaks the barrier of empty and crowded, making it much too many. I can't have that many people around.
My shadow gracing the tips of my feet.
It, and I.

That's how the good times be.

Ashamed.

I saw an old woman in a blue coat.
I wanted to give her a huge hug.

My thoughts laughed and,

I didn't.


(what a great story for my 100th post.)

Ode to Fish.

I miss sushi.
I'm really sorry I'm bothering to post about this. But I really, truly do.
It's been probably my biggest craving of the month...besides him, anyway.
Wrapped seaweed.
Rice.
Blubbery meat.
Translation? Heavenly.

Deathly Snow Muses.

Snow can be deceiving. When it stays for too long, you beg change.
Dandelions.
Ice cream with asphalt chocolate chips. When at a glance, origin is unknown. You tell its story, and it is what you wish.
White death is only apple blossoms...
Or a million shards of glass.

Numbers and letters.

16.

The number of times 'I love you' was said.

5.

The number of times our names were said.

_

So many exclamation marks that I can't even count.

Nowhere doesn't help my mind.

Conversing of two.

"Oh, do not worry. A great man shall come your way."

"I'd eat them, most likely."

*Laughs*

"Except you..."

"...I don't think I'd eat you..."

You bet.

I have shadows

Do you have shadows?

They sit there while I'm sleeping
They watch while I'm awake

Forever lingers

Well yah I'm sure.

Would you have a care or fear
If I locked the door?
If I close these blinds behind me
If I chained the nearest gate
If the phone was out the window

Perhaps if it was getting late?

Would you watch in hate or worry
Would you let me shut you in
Flick the lights
Hugging your lips

Give your little heart a spin?

We had mentioned this before...

Is it strange...

If I notice

The scent of vanilla...

Buried in your skin?

A glorious comparison.

In Love:
When I'm with you, I'm thinking of you. When I'm thinking of you, I'm at peace.
-a

In Nothing:
When I'm not looking, you aren't there. When I'm not thinking about you, you don't exist.
-l

Two faces. Two mouths. Two completely different minds.

Just, people.

Cloudy days seem to bring out my curiousity for others I don't know.
Like the little eight year old crying on her front steps.
Like the old man that sits by college town bagels every morning, smiling.

Like the creepy girl I walk home with, who talks to herself when she thinks I can't hear.

Do I really know who is walking down the street?
A completely different person. Another life.
With other stories that they've gone through
Grief and love that I've never really known,

Because I won't talk to them.
Because I don't want another awkward interaction.

Because they're just a stranger. I'm not expected to know them all that well.
Yet,
It's still so satisfying pretending I do.

'Your eyes they turn,
turn me into
phantoms'

Postage & Mailmen

I wish people still sent letters.
I'm not so sure why this idea has it's appeal,
all I know is that I want it true.

...I wonder if I should send myself letters,
if the postman would L E T me
send myself letters,
Or if I should just write to him....

Perhaps I like writing things.
Or maybe,
I'd just like to be sent some words,
some feeling,
sometime or other.

Off My Chest.

At one point in my life, I was obsessed with writing letters that I knew I would never send.

When I was little, I only pretended to have imaginary friends. Even though I never believed that they existed. They always were created on the swings when noone was next to me. I could never bring myself to talk to them. So, I was lonely.

I've owned and read Shakespeare for enjoyment.

If you asked me my biggest secret,
I couldn't tell you.

Subway trains are the best trains.
The musuem of natural history SUCKS.

I kiss the walls of my room on occasion.

Biting my nails is my biggest habit. Even if I'm not anxiety ridden.

Something I've heard:
love is friendship set on fire.

I don't believe in favourite colours.
I also have to type a u after every o.

I'm so braver than you would think.
Because i'm a coward.

"Clouds and Butterflies" is written on my mirror in black lipstick.

I'll lie and say I've committed tons of sins.
I'll lie and say that
This is a confession.

I love flannel.

I never know how much someone means, until I see them smile a lot.

I've written more songs about you (or with you in mind) than I can count on one hand.

A word I like:
Crooked

I'd rather lose my sight than lose my hearing. It would be the single toughest choice I'd make.

I write your name in random places.

Painting my nails doesn't make me feel "pretty." And if I paint my toenails, they have to be some kind of red.

I've tried about 5 times to write a serious book.
I never finished.

I'm a geek.

I don't know how to air guitar.

I would rather DIE than live in the same place, being the same person, my whole entire life.

My umbrellas were always named Ashely.

Your eyelashes fascinate me. I love them.

I illustrate what happens to me in my head sometimes.

My face looks strange to me in the mirror.

I've wanted/planned to be famous since age 4.

I love the idea of a lie.

I've always hated cupcakes.

I actually love soap.

Something I'm afraid of:
Writing initials tooclosetogether.

I drew pictures of people in love during pre-school.

Sometimes I like to make-believe that I'm a different person, living a different life, going to a different place.

I'm too embarrassed to dance in front of myself.

I've looked up "How to Teleport" online.
I've looked up a lot of things online.

I still can't figure out how to fold paper bags.

I cry every time someone sings "you are my sunshine," and I don't have a clue why.

I love a good trainwreck.

I never believed in heaven or hell.

Before other things, I used to dream of being a ballerina when I grew up.

Swedish Techno = love.

It's amazing how well I can sing "somewhere over the rainbow." My mother used to sing it to me every night, just so I could have gumdrop dreams.

E.T. scared the motherfucking shit out of me.

Some would say I have a lot of best friends, but I question the closeness of them.

I've tried to be anorexic. That's when I discovered I liked food too much.

Inventing in your head is a wonderful thing. I'd usually be kept up for hours at night, inventing characters and lives and stories. My words were often invented.

He wasn't worth my time.

I have started to notice my love for things miniature. The best dreams are when I wake up, and everything looks small. I go about the world being either a giant out of place, or a mouse in a giant world.

If I had a most-used key on the computer, it would be the spacebar...
typinglikethisannoysthehelloutofme.

If I had a favorite key on the computer, it would be the ? or / key.
Maybe that's because I love question marks.

In first grade I confided in my friend that I thought I was a human mishap. She stopped talking to me so much.

Collarbones are amazing.

I love blueberries. They remind me of all the times I went to Cass Park, and how hot and scratchy the pool pavement was. I always swam by myself, for some odd reason. Swimming was a solitary activity. And to this day, it's weird when I swim with people.

Every now and then, I suspect that my friends all hate me.

Tongues are weird things.

When I was little, I heard ghosts. Or, it could have just been my imagination.

Have you ever gotten the feeling that you're mind could have been erased without you even knowing it? Because you wouldn't know exactly what you don't already know. I get that all the time.

Lions.

"Can lions hug?"

"Lions can hug
but it may crush u,
with all that weight."

"Can they smile?"

"Duhhhh..."

"Can they laugh?"

"Well,
I don't think they can do that...
Maybe they laugh when they roar!"

"Can lions be afraid?"

"Yus."

"Can lions yawn?"

"Yes,
lions can yawn."

"Can lions stretch?"

"Yup."

"Can they cry?"

"Yus,
if they can get sad enough."

"How sad?"

"Verrrry sad...
super duper sad"

"Can they sleep?"

"Of course silly!"

"Can they dream?"

"Yes."

"Can lions hide?"

"Yyyyuuup"

"Do lions die?"

"Sadly yes."

"Can they keep secrets?"

"I think they can..."

"But you're not sure?"

"I am not sure."

"Can lions fly?"

"Noo
they shud tho!"

"Can lions love?"

"Yus."

"How can you tell?"

"I

just

K N O W."

I, murderer, confess.

What happened to all the simple
Thieves?

Liars?

Killers?

Murderers?

Witches?

Wizards?

Villains?
Now we're stuck with all these complex
Beggers.

Pleaders.

Prayers.

Singers.

Lovers.

Huggers.

Victims.
Too many victims. Not enough Villains. Who is the source for the crime? What am I, a selfish murderer, to do?

'I set fire to things, I set fire to things
I'll set fire to you,
I'll set fire to me.'
{We Will Meet, Pale Young Gentlemen}

Pocket findings.

asleep in perfect blue b u i l d i n g s

beside the green apple sea

gonna get me a little o b l i v i o n

try to keep myself away from me

~Omaha, Counting Crows