burning barns and other activities

novel entry one

2010-05-02T01:25:00.000-07:00

what do you mean what's new?

chp 1

In the event of my father's suicide, I'm obligated to do many things: funeral arrangements, tidying up, loving mom more than usual, taking over the business and finding a home for Oscar my dad's bulldog (my mother hates dogs). It was all over the papers: Newspaper Tychoon Swan Dives from the 28th floor. However, it is my belief that he did not dive off of the 28th story like a swan as they said.
He couldn't have. He was not a good swimmer and he made belly flops when he dove into the water. He didn't write those words on paper: what do you mean what's new? enough is enough. He couldn't have. In all my life, I have never known my father to use a pen and paper. As a child, he would send me commands via text message. Juan dinner's ready. Juan have a good day in school. Juan its 1 am where are you? etc.

It is my belief that my father was conveniently murdered on my fifteenth birthday.

little love, big love

2010-05-02T01:19:00.000-07:00

You make me smile now
now blank canvas
filled with light
fill me like the sun

...

little love, big love

big love listens
as little love speaks
"I thought of your smile today"
"Oh,really" Big love speaks
echoing like a large voice in small cave
"when?"
"Oh when I was stuck in traffic
when the billboard reminded me of you. when the woman
selling cigarettes on the street reminded me of the time you
said
"you really like your vices don't you?"
or when that song came on
about paying for love
how does that line go?
oh yes... 'I'll pay for you anytime'
That guy's voice is catchy."

Big love grows tired of listening
little love stops talking
"Can I kiss you now?"
They are really talking now

notes for kerry 2008

2010-05-02T01:11:00.000-07:00

When you are present the world is truly alive
something that I found that I love:

this moment there is funk music
It's here in the present like I am... I would listen but I would rather hear. hearing seems to be a little more honest and real.

what's real anyway?

I asked this question in philosophy class and got the history in non-linear format from Hegel to Spinoza
Aristotle
Woody Allen

....
I am no longer interested in past truths just present
drink
diet coke

allen ginsberg

2010-04-04T19:35:00.001-07:00

if i could write like him
i would
i'd sail
and swallow
and burn up

i'd lose and suffer loss
and bloom and grow
and evaporate into a nothing
box
with nothing in it
but words
words.
words.
words.

The Cycle of My Breathing

2010-03-25T23:03:00.000-07:00

You see
I breathe for you.

in order to
synthesize the outgoing
stimuli
that are overly social in their pursuit of happiness
that salute and promenade around and into my solitude
that proliferate and probe
that produce a wasteland of unused worldly wonder like a vat of unprocessed meat or wasted buffet lines.
or the unused corn fields, or the abundant wheat fields of the middle American country side.

I am part of the corn fields
that feed the demand of Middle America
the cure to the starvation of the third world

in order to
cope with the stimulants

that ignite neurons and make electrons ocsillate wildly
that clog arteries and evaporate bodily fluids
that salute and promenade around and into my solitude
that proliferate and probe the world's oceans
to create the clouds and the rain
that produce a wasteland of stormy weather and an angry sun, a depressed moon

I am part of the water cycle
the boundary layer
that allows evaporation and transportation to occur wildly
that makes the earth breathe

You see
she breathes for you.

I will

2010-03-13T23:02:00.000-08:00

Lolita is my lover
Not my friend
Resting, resisting
She’s somewhere inside

A spacious room with deep auburn and bluish hues,
Waiting for me, in snow colored sheets
She will
Die.

I am her lover
Not her friend
Exploding, committing
She’s coming inside.

An Echo of murmurs and murderous notions
Escaping from our red painted mouths
“I will love you”
“I will ruin you”

She is my extinction

With me encased in her breath.

I will
Breathe

january poems

2010-03-13T22:58:00.000-08:00

see me

I am a volcanic sky

erupting with wild fury

gusty winds, singing through

ferocious teeth

“death comes in unity”

January 02, 2010 History: Manila captured by Japan

see me

I am your captor

leveling your city with air raids

and gutsy tanks, singing through

metallic mouths

“You are my colony”

January 3,2010 History: B. Marley was shot.

I hear your music:

tropical heat, bodies dispersing heat–a contagious radiation

IMAGE– bodies coming together

one is the assasin the other the glad sucker.

you shoot her with your power.

the bullet goes wacko when it comes

through the skin feeling her universe, exploring her solar

system.

She sings through smiling teeth,

“I’m your sucker, baby.”

January 4,2010 History: first crusade

I read your plans of convertion:

seduction of the mind, scare tactics, illertarcy and advocacy

of the one true religion– the musings of a young and awkward

lover.

IMAGE– souls coming togther

one is the priest and the other the savage

you push the savage off a cliff.

she scatters in a thousand little pieces when she comes.

stars scatter forming new relationships– constellations.

The stars sing through glittering mouths,

“We are glittering because of you– a leap of faith”

January 5,2010 History: Led Zepplin Disbands

See me

I am a zepplin

navigating through your oceans and plateaus.

a courageous exploration, a tempest, a whirlwind

an aviator sings through daring teeth,

“I’ve made a map of your oceans, plateaus. will you navigate

them with me?”

January 6, 2010 History: Liquid on Mars

You see my scars, little eye sores

tiny messages written in braille.

Your fingers unlock my hidden alphabet.

the messages written on my body long ago

one by a clumsy knife and the other a disobedient horse.

a body cartographer sings through ink drenched teeth,

” May I travel the seas from the tip of your scalp to the tips of

your toes?”

it's been awhile

2010-03-13T22:52:00.000-08:00

I've started other blogs on other blogging sites,but I've had no luck.

I will
hopefully have more success with this one.

something I read today

something that I love

"...Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running--that's the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with the Ma-Wink fallopian virgin warm stars reflecting on the outer channel fluid belly waters." Kerouac

haiku'd rivers!!

2008-09-18T06:34:00.000-07:00

River

thank you, for being
the river where poetry floats,
and bobs its way to life.

Nibble

silence comes after
we nibble on
peanut butter sandwiches

Conversation

Please, don't go!
it's too late; I don't
want to trip over you.

Checkit. you'll love it! My friend's webcomic.

2008-09-14T08:44:00.000-07:00

first, last: I wanna lay you down on a bed of roses

2008-09-14T08:13:00.001-07:00

whatever

2008-09-09T22:18:00.000-07:00

you say
"there were
plenty of people
there last night"
I say
"plenty of people?
thats intense..."

you look
happy
content
her giant picture
invades space.
like the
heavy early morning
pollution
that hasn't been
burnt
by the sun
or evaporated,
gone.

"But
what kind of
people?"

you say
"artists, designers,
beautiful people, people that matter,
because they're famous
and they make money."

"she's an artist.
they way she walks, talks and
drinks red wine. It stains her teeth.
She is vampire-like in her hunger.
the way she craves his blood
like she needs it to survive."

he's in to
getting his blood sucked
his money stolen

she consumes him.

oh, catapult baby

2008-09-09T02:51:00.000-07:00

"yes baby
ill build it
ill BUILD it!"
For Mah Quiby.

oh
yeah, bebe money
my bebe-monhey
tastes like
de hunny
of de cows
when they go
funny

on farms
so sunny.

mah bebeh
likes to
go
uh, ohhhhh
when he goes
ohhhh, uh
on dah street
in dah middie
of the sizzlin'
morn'
on the tip of
de tongue
mah bebe
go
uh, ohhhhh
and I gots
to know
he'z
all mine
cauz
my bebeh
go OHHH, uh

2008-09-04T03:20:00.000-07:00

2008-09-04T03:14:00.000-07:00

tribute to voice

2008-09-04T01:41:00.000-07:00

i pull her covers off with my mouth.
i'm tasting it with my wagging tongue
tastes like her.
i taste, taste,taste. I taste sugar and vanilla. Oh and I smell something; it's seeping under the door. i drool, drool.
Oh, it is that yummy sliced meat with smoked flavor and that red stuff they dip it in with those shinny pointy things.
it is. I can't wait. they place it were I can reach it. I will have to look cute before this happens wait for the ohhhs and ahhhs. and aw, baby's. I love them.

that thing that makes the cold is making noise. I hide in her covers. I lay in them and curl up like a macaroni or burnt hot dog, the kind that shrinks and curls but still tastes good even if they want to throw it out and I've drooled on it and its slobbery so they have to give it to me.

they give it to me. oh, dreams of hotdogs on meaty mountains of the brown stuff they put on chicken and those milky sweet things that come in those boxes. I see her now. Sticking her hand in, it gets lost. I get worried. She's lost her hand! oh, no. Wait!
It's magic. Her hand comes out of the box. I can feel my ears twitch as she says it "Here, baby." I drool- ools all over the place.
"Oh, that's it." She gives it to me just like that. And, my mouth is full. I keep licking and licking.

"Oh my baby's never satisfied" She says, her high pitched voice hurts when she says things loud, when she gets excited. She runs her hands through my hair. I roll over. She scratches my belly. My leg twitches. I can't stop laughing; it feels so good like the time at the beach when I was yelling at those moving mountains. They were going to eat her I swear, but she stepped right into them. She didn't care. She's the bravest of all the pack. I yell some more. I can feel my hair rising. It rises.
They've swallowed her those yelling mountains; they roar when they touch the rice like yellow ground. I feel them under my toes; they turn into white stuff like the white stuff in the sky but only when they hit the yellow stuff. I feel them; they feel ich-ich-ich; I lick them just to see what they taste like. They taste like that white stuff that's on that place they put the food. They shake it onto everything. The ground tastes like that probably because of them and their white stuff like clouds.

I saved her from their white stuff. I yelled until they spit her out. She came out drenched in their drool-ools. She was safe. All because of me and my yelling.

The thing that makes the cold is still screaming like that lady that was stuck inside the box thing that turns on and off. She screamed for all long time once, because the box was left on. By, the time I had figured out how to get her to shut up like those moving mountains. It was too late. Because, my love was already home and she had a box filled with treats. She gave me one. Her hand disappeared. "Oh, that's my baby" she says. "Sit boy." She scratches my ear. My tail wags. "You are such a good puppy!"

not ever for a day

2008-09-01T07:14:00.000-07:00

I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair

DON'T GO FAR OFF, NOT EVEN FOR A DAY
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Pablo Neruda

OH and then THIS for sure!!! for sure...
Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint

Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,

never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.
- Lorca

2008-09-01T07:05:00.000-07:00

this is what i look like

2008-09-01T06:03:00.000-07:00

the gypsy man's self image with the still life of that framed picture of the couple dancing reminded me of the time you took my self-portrait for me. you smiled as i sat beside that stack books and twirled my hair as usual. take off your shirt. what? it will be sexy. but are self images supposed to be sexy? they can be if you think you are!
Well, I don't think I am.

then you found what you were looking for--a real solution to the problem; my mole above my left breast. You said look darling it breathes like you do. it smiles and cries. it's a dot of life. it contains so much. it tells me so much about you.
I touched the part you were talking about. I didn't feel it. It didn't feel like anything.
It felt like skin where skin was supposed to be. there was nothing secret or magical about it. listen. you said. listen to me.
you put your ear on the dot and listened as if you were a lifeguard and my spot a heart that might stop at anytime from inhaling water or from loving too much.

please stop trying to convince me that it will not be alright; you say, as you kiss my spot. I didn't feel them--your kisses.
I held them apart. The spot was not a part of my body; it was a part of a different constellation. It belonged to the sky, to the big dipper to the comets, to the dancing clouds.

why do you kiss me so softly, here? I point to the spot. I hate it. I HATE IT. You kiss my hand. I feel it. It's bold and wanting. you leave me wanting more kisses. I love your mole; it's wise.
WISE? Is wise sexy?
yes, darling. yes, oh... you don't know why? You smiled at me and I couldn't help but feeling like i missed the punch line.
I couldn't help but notice how you still probably bit your nails even after you promised me--over wine no less-- that you would stop.I acted like a scientist by using my deductive reasoning; my abilities to use logic like a =b only if b=a were well up to par and were in fact brilliant.. This made sense to me. I thought about work and history. How do we learn things about each other? An Archeologist would examine teeth and bones to identify the cause of death and the purpose of life, of a civilization's promise and of its downfall-- it's ancient lifestyle. All lovers are archeologists. They dig through the dirt and memorize the indentation of bone and the peaks of the teeth.
Your black nail polish left little black chips on your teeth. I notice this when you smile. Oh, that smile that changed my life.
the first time I saw you; you had smiled so giving and bright.
I see you, holding the camera. the tripod sits empty. you'd rather hold your tool. because it is more personal this way. more loving more feeling more blah, blah, blah, blah.
I feel like houdini and I am performing the chinese water torture and I can't find the key. The audience believes that I am magic but I know the truth; I am a joke. I am funny ha ha.
I say all that I can think to say. I say:
I don't know why! Just take the picture. I am still sitting by the book stack in between your first love Nabokov's "LOLITA" and collections by your favorite poets: Lorca and Neruda.

Take the picture. I think Take the picture so you can capture my soul and then I'll be yours like the couple in the picture.
I'll be yours forever. Start counting, you say. I start counting "one locomotive, two locomotive, three" Then finally, I see it. it's what i've been waiting for and five locomotive and FLASH!

Work for This

2008-09-01T02:25:00.000-07:00

Listen to me.
when you have the time.

take it easy - bright eyes
megalomaniac- +/-
the book of right on- joanna newsom
where's my mind? - the pixies
homesick - kings of convenience
hong kong garden - siouxie and the banshees
loose lips- kimya dawson
you wouldn't like me - tegan and sara
what's the word- we are scientists
keep me- the black keys

FOUND: HUGHES

2008-08-29T03:06:00.000-07:00

Anonanonanon.

sometimes a ditch full of
magnificent, cold water
is a slow motion
dissecting experiment
on speech and
action; full of
anecdotes.

TED.

they took me to
where I saw
the deer all colors from white through
every brown to black
and curious pheasants
with tails like rockets.
and I played records full
of anecdotes:
look after yourself
and write.
love; over
the great park.

Dear Pumpkin.
if this doesn’t reach you
i have no great news; only
everything is in the same expression
as you left it. every
thing is warn out from trying to
hear you.
Did I hear you?
or was it the
cracking of a locust in Palestine
as he does nothing but
HOWL about the lightness
of your fingers. then
he goes frighteningly beserk
like a whip cracking,
GROWLING enrage.

TELL ME SECRETS.

Spring
froze in silence ---
four inches of ice
but, no snow.

Silence
its coat over its
arm teaches
perfect freedom.

Freedom,
absurd, exquisite
possession.

Possession,
composes letters in
an intricate geometry of
lights and shades in the
modest emerging of
morning.

Morning,
the clamor of
the world
tell me: How is
life?

Life,
“light and shades”
When I come out there
I expect
love.

duh-duh-duhuhuhuhuh

2008-08-27T04:40:00.001-07:00

1. This must be the place -talking heads
2. one armed scissor- at.the.drive.in.
3.Exodus Damage- john vaderslice
4. Dancing in the dark. - Bruce S
5.blue monday - the cure

Love me till my heart stops.
Love me till I'm dead.
-talking heads-

also, today I think Ted Hughes is pretty cool. Ross and I are working on a poster for his english class. It's all about how Ted liked to write about the world. or something. The thing is Ross is pretty impressive when it comes to these things. I am proud of him.

Lovesong

He loved her and she loved him.
His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she sucked
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered into the curtains

Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Off that moment's brink and into nothing
Or everlasting or whatever there was

Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His words were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assassin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
His glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
Her vows put his eyes in formalin
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall

Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

In the morning they wore each other's face

Ted Hughes

the loss of something in parts

2008-08-25T06:09:00.000-07:00

I talked to Grandma today. She might lose her hand. But, then I told her that there are some things that we can manage to lose.

Her hands
wash away
the effects of bad dreams
or too much chocolate.
they clean out
the closets
and stuff the turkey.
they hug
before they kiss
wounded skin after a war with
the pavement.
she'd kiss
and make it better.
her hands
never forgot the
feeling of the dew droplets
that hold conferences
on that rose petal
right above the
thorn
on a sunday morning
before church
before her hands would kneel
together in prayer
and give their rites
and blessings to
the grand
daughter
who stopped believing
a long time ago
in conferences of faith
in heaven
or hell
in rest days.
but never stopped being
scared of
wounds
and monsters
under beds, or
of stuffing turkeys
with filling and getting
her hands dirty
with soil
as they dig deep into the
earth
to give birth to something
to make it grow.

Now, I have a song in my head...

Singing:
Hey smilin' strange
You're lookin' happily deranged
Could you settle to shoot me?
Or have you picked your target yet?

Hey Sandy
Don't you talk back,
Hey Sandy

Four feet away
End of speech, it's the end of the day
We was only funnin'
But guiltily I thought you had it comin'

Hey Sandy
Don't you talk back,
Hey Sandy

post temp file. so as not to erase. deleting is a bad habit.

2008-08-25T05:22:00.000-07:00

Manila tells me her truth in a garlic smelling kitchen. I like her truth; It’s a story of the time she fell in love with me. Well, I fell in love with her too. I was telling this to you in our light filled kitchen when London phoned. He told you stories of wars and fighting. Well, you’d have to leave soon. You were leaving Manila to write stories for London.

The Bamboo plant listens to our conversations. He holds them together in his leafy palm. He rubs then together. He makes energy in the form of friction. I watch him while you talk about going down south and the excitement of actually getting to report on something of real value. I question this notion of “real value.”
Really. Real. I say. Really valuable.
Really. You say, This is real life shit.
Oh, and Manila’s not real like I’m not real or these chairs or this kitchen.
You’ve gone all crazy again.
The plant needs watering. I say. I get out the watering can. I fill it up and empty it out.

The next morning, you tell me all about the ethics of good journalism. I tell you how I don’t think it’s a good profession for lovers. I see all of the passion pour out of you; you were hungry for me once.
Now, your notebooks are arranged in separate colonies on the floor. Your hands are colonizers; they fearlessly seize foreign territories and collapse empires.

yes!

2008-08-15T20:50:00.000-07:00

opening, you open
to say yes
and then no
like it was so easy
at first
to give, and give,
and give.

closing, you close
when you say no please
later, thanks. and then
no, again
like it was so easy to say yes
and kiss from head to toe
and know that
yeses are wonderful but
maybes are better.
they’re non- adult.
they’re youthful in their
indecision.

half closing, half opening you wait
like you’re on a narrow street, cobble stone or brick
you’re holding a red umbrella
red for no for waiting for me
all over you.
but, you wait for the
yellow taxi with the black lettering
with the license plate
that records all wrongdoings of running
stop lights, fender benders.

half closing, you like the rain
and it’s fresh, free, lonely
yeses are wonderful when
raindrops whisper them
on eyelashes, tops of heads,
or the red skin of umbrellas.
half opening, you like the street
and it’s wet and coming alive
like you all over me that time
some time ago when you
saw the moon begin to rise
from my bedroom window.
light or shadow? which do you like better
you don’t choose
and it’s my job to make these
decisions. to say
yes, yes, yes!
I choose Light!

closing, you say
maybe, the moon’s rising
and I’m hungry for you.
but, the yeses, yes, please, etceteras
get lost in the magnetics of
the bed, the moon, the maybes of
everything you mean to say
but don’t.

opening, you open to say
yes all over me
you say it, but
nothing happens.
your yes disperses into the
horizons of our bodies: Our atlases of decisions
of whether to breathe in or out
of whether to kiss, caress or sleep
in the vague moonlight.
of whether to say yes, yes, yes or NO! or
maybe, because we’re scared
of losing something by
choosing yes, or no.
Maybe, you choose maybe.
The moon sinks into the light
Maybe, nothing dies.

thoughts, tonic and gin

2008-08-10T18:06:00.000-07:00

Ross said something this morning that seemed to make sense. This was before coffee which might explain some things regarding content and meaning.

He said:

I am back in Manila.

The celebrity section in the newspaper reads like the obituaries.

I miss mom.
It's like that Skybombers lyric:
"If you wanna be the one darling don't pretend."

Think about "Time to pretend" (MGMT)

I am up. I am up.

And, there's a volcano in the middle of the pacific that's getting rid of her anger from where it was once contained to an area that's a little less hospitable.
I feel sorry for this anger. She's going to be disassembled and dismantled. She'll evaporate and condense into liquid heat. She's got the time to pretend. She'll pretend to be a cloud, water, heat... anything but anger. Because, no one likes anger... time to pretend!

We'll live under the city.
no one will find us.
we'll hide.
hide with me.
there's no pretending
when you're hiding.
unless hiding is like pretending?
and, I'm up
Good morning, come on, come on,
time for the city,
looking pretty.

2008-08-04T17:57:00.000-07:00

The day the air smelled like dead something
my mom told me all about you and how you believed that the Montok
monster was real.
so what if it's hiding under your bed
so what if it just wants to hold you
and rub its scaly hands all over your
warm body.

little scrapes on soft
body. cold on warmth
she told me all about you.
the air was heavy with
water and smoke and
the trees formed a canopy of leaves
yellow, brown from the sun.
yes, I hear the wind
she tells me your secrets
she says your stories
in little tones with hushed "OHHS" and outstanding
"YES, DARLING. PLEASE YESES!!"

and then,
there's the truth.
she says your story
I hear her through the roof
of greens
yellows

But, I don't remember it
anymore.
I see you.
I see you closing in, opening up
screaming for more
more of me
less of you.

what?
"yes darling. Please yes!"
... you say
yes darling
please yes.
YES PLEASE.

2008-07-29T20:39:00.000-07:00

in love and war
one must be like water and
rush into the void
left by loss
and regret

rchongson
original
with some modification.

i miss you!!

Yes!

2008-07-29T20:27:00.000-07:00

"come like the wind
go like the lightning"

Sun Tzu

If so,
so what! Please
don't be afraid to
tell me all about
how you did that
to me
here.

when did you do it here?
Before, drowning in it.
After, It's done
you come with me.
yes
yes you do
this
this love
Please, come with me.

Hey, yes I'm saying
yes.
so, don't be afraid to
feel, yes.
oh, before or after
you know
what I want
to do
yes, come
yes, you have to
come with me.
why?
because I love it.
because this love did it.
It tastes like you
sweet, clever

oh, yes
I love it.
come with me.
You did it to me.
Thank You!
Oh, thank you.

play me

2008-07-20T06:35:00.000-07:00

play me
with me
top
bottom
oh, fuck it
LISTEN
to
Cowbell- Tapes n' Tapes
Reach that place- sleepwalk circus
Mayonnaise- smashing pumpkins
Dito Tayo Sa Dilim- Pedicab
Out of Control- She wants revenge
Citrus- the hold steady

listen, are you listening?

note on forehead

2008-07-20T06:09:00.000-07:00

there's a note
on my forehead
it reads:
don't worry
because worry
lines are ugly

there's a note
on my chest
it sings:
"to-ta-touch me
I wanna be Diirrty."

there's a note
on inner thigh
it reads:
please, yes
please. I say yes! PLEASE!

there's a sign
on my lips
that reads:
Ohhhh, yes. that's right.
you're all mine
all mine.

2008-07-17T16:00:00.001-07:00

love

2008-07-17T15:53:00.001-07:00

etc.

I had dream
that I don't want to talk about.
It involved the following:
shotguns
long hair
ghosts
assholes
and love going away
on vacation or something

you know
what they say?
when love's away
the stranger will play.

I think I am
paranoid.
etc

coffee research.

2008-07-06T09:36:00.000-07:00

"You and your friends don't know shit about women. Why talk to them like that? When you can see they don't like it? If I want to look beautiful, I do it for me"

oh and this...

Hassan: I just got stung by a lousy mosquito. These neighborhoods are dangerous. Lagos is safer. What' your name?
Sophie: Sohpie
Hassan: I'd give you my card but I have none left. Too bad! Sophie, fancy a cup of coffee? Go on! Can I massage your feet?
Sophie: Why would I let you?
Hassan: Because they hurt.
Sophie: They do?
Hassan: You were running in my dreams all night.... Please have coffee with me.

and

I have self control.

like...

2008-07-02T07:51:00.000-07:00

we are all connected in the same way that
Faulkner.
Murakami.
the talking heads.
burning down the house.
are all connected.

these connections like paintings in a gallery
like quotations

read:
I'd be able to conduct, (a), a life with my right hand and, (b), a life with my left. Not that it matters much. It's like doughnut holes. Whether you take a doughnut hole as a blank space or as an entity unto itself is a purely metaphysical question and does not affect the taste of the doughnut.

AND AS LONG AS I KNEW THE WORLD WAS STILL IN MOTION. I KNEW I EXISTED.
Murakami "A Wild Sheep Chase"

Exist with me.
we'll belong to each other.
we'll burn
re-grow
re-work, be re-born, re-open
then, close
then burn
then we'll
fall into it
burst into
space
stick, submerge
MERGE into one
gigantic universe
of cells
dying
regenerating
separating
splicing
clotting
then finally
evaporating
into porous
fragments of ourselves

then
we'll turn into water
we'll drink our spirits up
in a large cup
filled up to the
brim
with curiosity
and newness

New, we are
anew
afresh
and in love.

stop asking questions! I know what I am doing.

2008-07-02T07:42:00.000-07:00

My mom called and asked about my article today. I said
"Mom it's not my article any more. I've sold it."
She didn't get it. She said,

"Oh, if this is all about selling out and all of that BS. you can forget about it. We breathe the same air. You sold out when you were born."

"WHAT?" I said, "There's static." I hung up only to call her back. "Mom, I love you"
"I know honey"
"And I miss you"
"I know honey"
"And I know how what you mean"
"About what, honey?"
"About selling out"
"Oh, I didn't mean to offend you"
"No, It's a shit article anyway"
"I don't like you attitude"
"I know"
"Go do some yoga, or have a glass of wine."
"Okay. Oh, and Mom I've been thinking about July when I come visit"
"yeah and?"
"And, I want to sleep in the basement."
The internet cut out. END CONVO HERE!

music for you?

2008-06-30T01:08:00.000-07:00

1. Yes - coldplay
2. name- the goo goo dolls
3. hang me up to dry- cold war kids
4. blister in the sun - the violent femmes
5. M.I.A. - the foo fighters
6. point to something - sleepwalk circus
7. transmission - joy division
8. psycho killer - talking heads

writing at the office

2008-06-23T00:29:00.000-07:00

"...because light didn't mean anything to him. as we know, he made love with his eyes shut."
- Milan Kundera-

Cinci.
I go to museums to remember you. I tell you all about paint and how it works as a vehicle for change. This is how I change-- by way of remembering what it used to feel like to create you through kisses. Now kisses are collected from memory by admiring the paint on fabric. Every inch of canvas is reprocessed to be made beautiful in someone's eyes by the texture of the paint and the mixture of color on white. Your skin like canvas was repossessed by kisses. I took it and rearranged it with my mouth. Little licks of color screaming "LET ME OUT! I WANT YOU!"
I am screaming now as I look at the paint. I feel the texture with my hands barely touching the fabric. "I WANT YOU" still. I pretend the canvas is skin. Your skin--porous and perfect-- erupts with energy in my memory.

< I had it then I lost it. I spoke in an American English at one point. I smiled like a golden arch.
Then, I kissed you. S for me= a revealing of self
Poetry is veiled language. Why do I write to hide?

...
cinci.
I had a dream that my camera caught fire and it's parts started to dance around in specs in front of my face like fireflies or city lights. (or city lights like fireflies)

....
manila.
This is what Manila looks like when she cries-- glistening streets like shiny pennies.
She screams (but like this)
This is how she cries (title)
and then we wonder why we miss her and then we realize that it's because she holds the secrets to everything.
then he realizes that she's still sleeping and she won't come back not for a while. This is something he can't share with her. (sleep)
she's far away. She's somewhere else like cinci's far away and somewhere else but not quite because he can email her
and reach her. but you can't email someone when they're dreaming. You can't call them up. You can wake them up but then you'll destroy their dream.
(waking up) It allows you to sheare in whatever you want with them which maybe is what he wants (???) WHAT does he want? FUCK
... He doesn't know for sure. All he knows is he is going to fall in love and he doesn't care with who.
....or who with?
....or how?
....he doesn't want to be alone anymore!!
he's lost. that's the point. he'll stay lost and isolated because he's too into himself to care about this. he's too dense to see that he's missing out ....

ugh, writer's block is only in my mind?
maybe, talent leaves like people leave.
I haven't used it in a while. Maybe, it felt neglected and decided to move on to someone else who will make use of it.

Murakami would write this.

2008-06-08T21:36:00.001-07:00
A disturbed comic-book fan who killed seven people on a stabbing frenzy in downtown Tokyo had advertised what he was going to do on an Internet bulletin board, police said Monday.

As stunned mourners placed flowers, sweets and comic-book images at a makeshift shrine, new details emerged of how he kept a detailed log of his plans to wreak havoc in Akihabara, the hub of Tokyo's comic-book subculture.

The assailant behind Japan's deadliest crime in seven years, 25-year-old Tomohiro Kato, worked on a temporary contract at an auto components factory in central Shizuoka prefecture, police said.

On Sunday, he drove a rented two-tonne truck some 100 kilometres (60 miles) from the town of Susuno to Tokyo, swerving the vehicle into pedestrians before bursting out and stabbing at random with a butcher's knife.

He told police he was "tired of living" and had no motive other than to kill people -- anyone he found.

Kato reportedly had a strong interest in comic-book and video-game subculture.

In a school yearbook in which graduating students were asked to describe their personalities, Kato enclosed a picture of an action hero and simply wrote the word "curt," a television report said.

He admitted to police that he documented his journey on Internet bulletin boards posted from his mobile telephone, a police official said.

"I'll crash my vehicle into people and if the vehicle becomes useless, I'll get out a knife. Goodbye everyone!" said one posting hours before the crime, as quoted by Japanese media.

On a different site, an anonymous posting on May 27 was entitled "A disaster in Akihabara" and warned that an incident would take place on June 5.

Around the crime scene, overnight rain had washed away the bloodstains from the streets of the electronics district, where residents placed flowers and pressed their hands in prayer at a makeshift shrine set amid the neon signs.

In the Japanese tradition, mourners left offerings at the shrine including sweets, coffee, beer and -- in a twist befitting Akihabara -- comic-book images of action heroes.

"I left coffee because I think that some of the victims will need coffee in the morning," said Ukyo Murakami, a 14-year-old boy on his way to school.

"I'm afraid he did this because he played video games. But he should have known that in life, you can't hit the restart button."

Businesswoman Tomoko Iizuka, 58, was sobbing as she paid her respects with a bouquet of flowers on her way to work.

"The victims included young people with a bright future. Why did he do such a crazy thing?" she said.

"It's all his fault. He deserves the death penalty."

Manila, manila, etc.

2008-06-08T09:18:00.001-07:00
Manila speaks to me with an open heart. She speaks slowly of a time when I will have to leave her. “Live,” she says “Live well.”

The city rises early on a Monday morning. The buses clank and heap together like a herd of Alpacas rushing to get where they are supposed to be going. The question is “Do they want to go” or “Where are they going exactly?”

Manila says to me, through sleepy eyes, under sleepy breath.
“It’s not like I am leaving you tomorrow”

The coffee is ready when she says this and I am easily distracted by its smell. It’s local brew—strong and robust. Yes, I am easily distracted. I pour myself a glass. She isn’t leaving me tomorrow. I think, but aren’t we always leaving each other for something or someone else. Isn’t this how it works? I’ve already left her for my first cup of coffee.
I’ve drifted away from her. She has no idea.

“Did you hear me?” She continues, “… just pour me a cup?”
I do what she asks. I am not one to be easily manipulated by silence or open heartedness. This is a state of submission. I think. It’s true. She’s rolled over. She’s on her back. Now, I no longer want her.

Manila speaks to me quickly. She’s in a hurry today. She’s in a hurry to get it out. What ever it is she needs to get out.

She was magical when I loved her. She used to linger, silently floating on the waters of the pacific. She’d whisper “Don’t worry man, I’ve gotcha. Everything’s going to be alright.” She’d say “Shut the windows” I would. It was then that I realized the reason for the closed windows, the closed doors; her never ending silence. The windows kept her spirit in. Closing them kept her spirit from leaking away. Her silence, so profound and seductive at first, grew into a wall that kept everything inside of her.
“Who is Manila?” I asked her once. “Who are you?”
She smiled and said, “Please, close the windows and turn off the lights.”
She wrapped herself in a blanket. I crawled into place behind her. We enclosed each other. Manila slept soundly in my arms.

Now. QUICK, QUICK, QUICKLY…
She is telling me that she wants to live just live with me. No more locks and spare keys or taxi cabs at 3 am. “I want to live with you.”

She tells me this before my first cup of coffee. The two mugs sit on the kitchen table. They are lukewarm and sweaty. I bring my palm to the body of the mug. I feel its smoothness; its never-ending reliability.

Cincinnati calls after Manila closes the door and I image crawls into bed. She always likes to sleep in the fetal position. Cincinnati speaks in well formed prose. There’s no poetry in her words just perfect grammar and the remnants of a passion that had been locked up inside for too long. See! I think. This is what happens when you close the windows.
“Look” Cinci say, “I miss you.”

ROCK STAR BABY

2008-05-27T20:51:00.000-07:00

I don't know what to say. I have no apologizes about the hair. I am officially an aunt today.

" I'm your lover, I'm your zero."

Tita syndrome

2008-05-26T19:01:00.000-07:00
I talked to Kuya today. He was tense. He actually woke me up from the best sleep in along time of bad sleep and sleeplessness. I love him allot. I just really realized this through hazy eyes and sleepy fingers.

"Sara will be induced tomorrow."
" ...like inducted?" I said "What?" This brought back memories of the X-files and Ian's mad scientist tendencies.
"Uh, CHRIS. They are going to induce labor tomorrow."
"Oh, FUCK" I said. "I am going to be a TITA like for real, like no joke, like you're going to be a PAPA and Sara's going to be a Momma. DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?"
"WELL, you can tell Ross something for me" he said
"K, this better not be too techy or whatever."
"It's fine, just write this down."
I wrote this down and Now there's a note sitting by ROSS' computer b/c that's the only place he'll look, for sure.
The note reads:

Ross,
Ian wants you to take his Shaman and his warlock and empty mailbox.
Put all the stuff in the bank.
<3 ate

In other news...
I reread the "The Unbearable Lightness of Being."
And, This is about love:
We all reject out of hand the idea that the love of our life maybe something light or weightless; we presume our love is what must be, that without it our life would no longer be the same; we feel that Beethoven himself, gloomy and awe-inspiring, is playing the "Es Muss sein!" to our great love.
What a great love.
Remember, the way it sounds. It's danceable, memorable.
NOW, LISTEN
"May we never be stripped of anything we love. May we grow so gentle; never go mental."

"Forecast Fascist Future"
- Of Montreal-

begin this way?

2008-05-26T06:16:00.000-07:00
On riots:

1. They wanted to get rid of corruption; he wanted to get rid of me. Neither provided easy solutions. The "getting rid" of corruption would require an overhaul of the government. The "getting rid" of me would require a complete overhaul of something else.

2. ... because these rain droplets fall from the clouds like tears. They form out of heaviness. They collide. They break apart. You wonder if anyone else thinks about the beauty of raindrops.

3. thousands line the streets in distinct colors, distinct shapes.

4. The city clamoured in anger. She was in pursuit of silence or peace. This is what she said to you. She speaks in hushed tones.
"Shh," she says "Don't you get it? it hasn't happened yet."
"I know," you say in more than an honest whispher. " I keep waiting for this."
THIS-- but, you don't know in fact you have no idea that in a few minuts a riot will break out.

clouds in dreams

2008-05-24T00:22:00.000-07:00
I had a dream last night (or this morning, depending on who you ask,etc.)
I was sitting on a cloud.

my girl:
Thomas J. Sennett: What do you think it's like?
Vada Sultenfuss: What?
Thomas J. Sennett: Heaven.
Vada Sultenfuss: I think... everybody gets their own white horse and all they do is ride them and eat marshmallows all day. And everybody's best friends with everybody else. When you play sports, there's no teams, so nobody gets picked last.
Thomas J. Sennett: But what if you're afraid to ride horses?
Vada Sultenfuss: Doesn't matter 'cause they're not regular horses. They've got wings. And it's no big deal if you fall 'cause you'll just land in a cloud.

oh, the cure:
Spinning on that dizzy edgeI kissed her face and kissed her headAnd dreamed of all the different ways I hadTo make her glow"Why are you so far away?" she said"Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?That I'm in love with you?"

You Soft and onlyYou Lost and lonely You Strange as angels Dancing in the deepest oceans Twisting in the water You're just like a dream...

You Soft and only
You Lost and lonely
You Just like heaven.

black and white

2008-05-21T04:56:00.001-07:00

a birdcage without a bird

2008-05-19T16:45:00.000-07:00
I came up with a new band name. Now, I just need a band. Anyone interested?
I can play the cowbell!

In other news, I am up way too early. Considering my current situation, I am going for a swim.

Everyone's talking about ruling the world. But, Honestly, I just want to live in it.
Live in it with me?

New opening: Manila speaks to me like she always has and comes through in fragments over the ocean...
wait, I don't like this one.

I am going to look at pictures of the writing on walls.

not if you were the last junkie on earth

2008-05-18T01:40:00.001-07:00
i feel like Paranoid like the song by GARBAGE but I am a little less hip than Shirley Bend me
Break me Anyway you need me As long as I want you baby it's all right.
"get this!" I would like to be a little less crazy but maybe it's just lack of sleep what a waste of time: SLEEP
"i only sleep to dream" "i can hear you singing to me in my sleep" "And now I tell you openly, you have my heart so don't hurt me.You're what I couldn't find.
A totally amazing mind, so understanding and so kind;
You're everything to me.

Oh, my life,
Is changing every day,
In every possible way.

And oh, my dreams,
It's never quite as it seems,
'Cause you're a dream to me,
Dream to me."

Age of Empires III, nap = me all day today. DEAL, man.

"i'm always ready to go."

2008-05-13T19:03:00.000-07:00
since you went
away
my heart
is forced to
find a new place

where is it?
how many miles?
Oh, you measure in Kilometers?

does it matter?

I've found a new place
sometimes when this
place gets kind of empty
I think about
how I've heard this all
before
in a song
about leaving,
staying,
being-in-the-world
with someone else
and playing
in fields
shooting stars
etc.

Let's watch the stars like
we used to...
our new places can wait.
they can whisper to us in
the night.
we can listen together
and make out the
words
and wish that we knew
what we wanted

maybe, these places
we'll go
we can go together
we don't have to leave
each
place
and pretend
to not miss what
we miss.

Stop, looking.
I'm here,
waiting.

when I really miss her, she seems really far away.

2008-05-12T23:16:00.001-07:00

He said he loved you
and you believed him

then you flew
around the world
... and became
what he wanted.

then you let him go.
and he believed you.

magnetism

2008-05-11T21:24:00.001-07:00

"we build something, they blow it up."

2008-05-11T20:50:00.000-07:00
some things (quickly) about the world, poetry, sleeplessness

... "a girl named Amber walked across a room
and everything became a new-made poem."
..."and after her, poetry overexposed."

this is my favorite one:
"SO BRIGHT the heart opening
with a slam."

what happens when your heart opens?

and what happens If it likes to SLAM into things
and then you get in trouble because it gets too good at it
and it slams against pillars then buildings fall
and it bangs against those indie kids that like to rock out with their whatevers out
not singing along but playing a long in the game of "cool" and "uncool"

.... what if, it stays BRIGHT? and you smile too much? and you're sleeplessness comes from all of the BRIGHTNESS and you just can't get away
IT's not like you want to anyway. Because you can't.
Because you are too busy, slamming into things.

the history of cpr or me with you

2008-05-08T08:12:00.001-07:00

I should be writing about Cambodia.

you were

developed to
heal and treat
my body
from the sudden
onset of chaotic
electrical
activity

you had

originally intended
to preserve life,
restore health,
relieve, and preserve
an electrical line

an electrical line
is a shockwave of
pluses and minuses
that gets somehow
lost in all of
the magnetics
in the constant
pull and pushing
of those opposing
poles

but, don't you get it?
I want you
My +/-
okay, you pull. I'll pull

you only
serve to
sustain me
as I pull

I sing
+'s
-'s

This is me with you.

stuff written on walls

2008-05-06T09:26:00.000-07:00

I want to be a radio DJ.
I want to write a novel
I want to play the cow bell in a rock and roll band.

oh, go stare at walls
oh, go jump in a lake

love. love. love. love. love.

about me

2008-05-06T07:06:00.000-07:00
I woke up this morning with Echo and the Bunnymen doing a number in my head. They played and I yawned. They played "Under the Milky way Tonight."

I listened. The lyrics go:
I got no time for private consultation,
under the milky way tonight.
wish I knew what you were looking for
might have known what you would find.

My day usually begins like this. There's always a tune doing a number in my head. Sometimes it's a good tune like "Under the Milky way Tonight" or "Spanish Bombs." But, most of the time, it gets pretty embarrassing. Most of the time, songs like "I Wanna Know What Love is" or "I Can't Hurry Love" play and wake me up. They stay for the whole day. They hold on for dear life like I am a sinking ship or something. They play and go around and around. Imagine, doing groceries and hearing the lyrics to a Foreigner tune:
Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like a world upon my shoulders
I through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder

Oh, and your in the dairy aisle. You're shopping for cheese. Then you realize that things can't get any better because you are shopping for cheese and you're listening to Foreigner.
And it goes around and comes around. Okay, this is not a JT reference. Although, in all fairness, he is pretty hot and yes, I am jealous of Scarlett Johansson in that video where he kisses her and she pretends not to like it!

More about me...
I dig movies. And, chocolate everything. I like icecream; vanilla is my favorite!
And, I twirl my hair when I am nervous. I am doing this now. Maybe, I am a little nervous. Maybe, it's all the coffee or the Keso ice cream?

Wait, what about me?
What I mean to say is "I dig music." Because, without it; there'd be nothing to wake up to.
I can't even imagine a world without music. I listen to all kinds.
I can be pretty pretentious about it. But, if you ask me, there's no such thing as bad music. There's just noise.

And, no one likes waking up to noise. I like to ease into noise with music. So, I guess this is my point. Music eases me into life.

modern lovers: "Pablo's feeling better now"

2008-04-25T01:53:00.000-07:00

"Pablo's feeling better now"

and I kinda feel like shit.

I have to edit, edit, edit.

(this is andy warhol and its take one, take one)

I had a dream last night.

I was sipping tea with andy warhol

we're sitting on Pollack's

back. It was hairy and decorated

with squiggly lines. The lines

moved and changed.

they turned into graffiti

the graffiti read like song lyrics.

to edit, BOWIE:

(what did I say)Whole, its whole as in wholes(andy warhol)

Like to take a cement fixBe a standing cinema Dress my friends up just for show See them as they really are Put a peephole in my brain Two new pence to have a go. I'd like to be a gallery Put you all inside my show

Andy warhol looks a screamHang him on my wall

(what did he say) alright well he was only 5 foot 3but girls could not resist to stare

pablo picasso never got called an asshole

not in new york

I feel like

2008-04-17T01:46:00.000-07:00

I like Pollack
Please listen with me,
1. Sunset Beach- The Teenagers
2. Are You Ten Years Ago- Tegan and Sara
3. Little Red Corvette- Prince
4. Last Christmas - Wham!
5. Pile of Gold - The Blow
6. Hope- Descendents
7. Space Oddity - Bowie (baby!)
8. Dancing With Myself- IDOL (worhip? yes)
9. chillout tent - the hold steady

Lyrics I like:

Boys we love you
Some of us don’t
But plenty of us do
You should treat us good
You do that and you know
We’re gunna-uh-uh huh
Share more of our goods with you

All the girls are sitting on a pile of gold
All the girls—
And the boys you know they want—they want it
All the girls are sitting on a pile of gold
All the girls—
And the boys you know they want it, they want it

They want it. They want it
It’s economic
Beneath the warmth that we export
Of course some boys will try to push the prices down
By pushing girls around
I’ve seen some do this
Learned to see through this
They get scared
So scared maybe we’ll refuse to share with them
A gentle mass attack..... Exodus
Tell them
I know the truth that if you could
Learn to save enough to make some trade with me

oh and this:
I'm taken, I am yours I'm up and doing circles
I collapse
I might stay out longer than I left the light on for you
Then if you show, you show
If you show, you show
When I feel like this
When I get so in
To myself
I lose track of where I'm going and lose track of how to get going again
I feel myself slowing down
Feel myself turning around
Is this taken?
When I feel like this
When I get so sick of myself
Where are you going now without me
And not knowing then, that we're slowing down
You've gotta turn that around
And tell me that I'm taken,
Tell me if I'm yours
You collapse
The pressure of this life is so
You can't be held accountable
If you go, you go
If you go, you go
When you act like this
When you get so sick, of yourself
The whole world falls away and since
I feel
Like I have only missed the feeling that I'm here again
The feeling that I'm clear again
I'm not taken
When you act like this
When you get so in
To yourself I lose sight of common goals
And letting go so I can be all alone
Feel myself, going slow
Feel myself, letting go
Not taken,
Not feeling like I'm yours
I'm taken, I am yours

and this!
There was a stage and a piet up in western massachuttes,
And the kids came from miles around to get messed up on the music.
And she drove down from Boden with a carload of girlfriends,
To meet some boys and maybe eat some mushrooms
And they did and she got sick
And now she's pinned and way too shaky.
She don't wanna tell the doctor everything she's taken
The paramedics hovered over her like a somber mourning family
They gave her activating charcoal, they flooded her with saline

Her:
"I got really hot and then I came to in the chillout tent,
They gave me oranges and cigarettes."

He was rough around the edges:
He'd been to school, but never finished,
He'd been to jail, but never prison.
It was his first day off in forever, man
The festival seemed like a pretty good plan,
Cruise some chicks and get a sun-tan.
And his friend gave him four, but said only take one,
But then he got bored and ended up taking all four.
Ah, so now my man ain't that bored anyways,
The paramedics found him: he was shaking on the side of the stage.

Him:
"Everything was spinning and I came to in the chillout tent,
They gave me oranges and cigarettes."
Her:
"I got really hot and then I came to in the chillout tent"
Both:
"They gave us oranges and cigarettes."
She looked just like a baby bird, all new and wet and trying to light a Parliament
He quoted her some poetry, he's Tennyson in denim and sheepskin.
He looked a lot like Izzy Stradlin.
They started kissing when the nurses took off their IVs,
It was kinda sexy, but it was kinda creepy.
Their mouths were fizzy with the cherry cola,
They had the privacy of bedsheets
And all the other kids were mostly in comas.

Her:
"He was kinda cute, we kinda kicked it in the chillout tent,
And I never saw that boy again."
Him:
"She was pretty cool, we kinda kicked in the chillout tent,
And I never saw that girl again."

<<< Now I want some oranges and some cigarettes. <3 's always

80's music when I should be working!!

2008-04-17T01:13:00.000-07:00
I was researching the history of the Khmer people and Vietnamese coffee then I took a QUiZ....

Your 80's song is: Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Poison.

hmm, why?

here are the lyrics:

We both lie silently still
In the dead of the night.
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart inside
Was it somethin' I said or somethin' I did
Did my words not come out right
Tho' I tried not to hurt you
Tho' I tried
But I guess that's why they say

Chorus:
Every rose has it's thron
Just like every night has it's dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has it's thorn

Yea it does

I listen to your favorite song
Playin' on the radio
Hear the DJ say love's a game of
Easy come and easy go
But I wonder does he know
Has he ever felt like this
And I know you'd be here right now
If I could have let you know somehow
I guess

Chorus

Though it's been awhile now
I can still feel so much pain
Like a knife that cuts you
The wound heals, but the scar, that scar remains

I know I could have saved our love that night
If I'd known what to say
Instead of makin' love
We both made our separate ways

Now I hear you've found somebody new
And that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife

Chorus

How EMO IS EMO?

haha. okay. I am officially crazy!

advice for 15 year old me

2008-04-14T02:20:00.000-07:00
Don’t let anyone tell you that RANDOM CHAOS is not a way to organize your life.

Accept. Move on. Keep loving.

When Pops tells you to “PLEASE PUT THE GOLD FISH IN A BIGGER BOWL” or maybe it was more like “THE GOLD FISH IS TOO BIG FOR THAT BOWL” listen.
Or, the gold fish will end up dead on your bathroom floor. Oh, and yeah, you might step on it with bare feet. You’ll feel its scales in between your toes for months. LEARN TO LISTEN

Time, you have lots more than you think. BREATHE-IN-THEN-OUT

Read more. Think more.

When he asks you to marry him, give him some water, tuck him into bed, and write a poem about it.

ONCE A CHEATER, ALWAYS A CHEATER.

When that dude asks you on stage because your outfit is so 80’s and tight as “F**k” PLEASE, forget that you think the word “tight” is overly hip and ridiculous and haul a** on stage. GIVE the guy a hug. He’s a hottie for an older dude.

EAT the burger! EAT the fries! Fast food will only kill you if you let it.

Smoking is fine as long as you do it socially and not alone sitting on your patio.
Get up earlier. The mornings are nice. Walk on dew covered grass in bare feet. It’s liberating.
MONEY it’s green. That’s all you should know or should need to know about money.
If it doesn’t all work out, you’ll realize that happiness does not come easy. But then that’s all part of it. Stop being a slave to yourself. Get over it! We’ve got oceans to sail.
Take longer walks through the woods or on the sand where the ocean meets the shore.
Look up at the sky, often. THINK about how the sky and how the stars are always there even during the day when they are just overshadowed by the sun. Also, remember that the sun is the smallest star. It’s lucky because it is the closest to the earth. Sometimes distance matters, but sometimes what’s important has the power to stay with you even when it’s overshadowed by everything else.
FEAR is important and so is failure. Welcome, welcome, welcome.
Triumphs happen. Slowly. Welcome, but don’t wait. It’ll happen when it happens. And it will happen. Slowly in the little things.
Smile more. And, in the end, DR PEPPER LIP SMACKER is better than dark red lip stick.
If his friends say he’s bad news, who gives a shit. And please make out with him anyway.
REGRET is not important. IT causes stagnation. You’ll get stuck in the past. You’ll still be floating in the pool, eyes red and chlorine stained.
When you decide to volunteer at the animal shelter, drive your mom’s van. You’ll meet someone special, blonde. You’ll find out later that he likes long walks and cuddling by the fire, while you watch THE NOTEBOOK.
Don’t let anyone tell you that BOWIE sucks. LIFE ON MARS will change your life.
KEEP air guitaring at four in the morning. You’ll miss it when your stop.
Keep listening to 80’s rock and don’t name your hamster ELVIS. Or, else he’ll end up dead with his head slumped over the food dish. Also, don’t over feed him. Processed cheese has more fat than you think.
Your mom’s the best friend you’ll ever have. Admire her. She’s stronger than you’ll ever be. She’s awesome.
And please try to remember, the human heart is the size of a clenched fist. It’s much stronger than you think.

old stuff that reads new? or .... what?

2008-04-14T02:08:00.000-07:00
Talk story

she saw him coming
down the stairs

he looked the same.

And,
the grave sat empty
in front of a crowd
of burning candles.
each one watching, melting beads of wax.
Then the beads
became pools.
then they turned in to oceans.
And,
the waves and the ridges, formed next to
islands and mountains. each one watching, melting
next to the fire.

She saw him—shadowy, sheer
evaporating, turning into Nothing
whistling down the stairs.
She felt the same.

And,
the islands and oceans, made way for volcanoes
and little fingers belonging to curious hands.
grabbed and molded the beads.

they turned them into balls, in to wax men.

She saw him by the candles.
He ate them up.

He became different.
then the beads became pools.

Then he turned into oceans.
**********************
too political for publication. or no name.

He died by
JUDICIAL 'L
O
N
g

HANGING’
They made him
JUDICIAL ‘L
O
N
G
DROP’
The shortest drop
about
FOUR FEET
( that’s about one foot
shorter than the dead man
from head to toe)
He
needed
The longest drop
about
TEN FEET
(that’s about five feet
shorter than the dead man
from head to toe)
JUDICIAL ‘L
O
N
G
DROP’
Or
JUDICIAL ‘L
O
N
G
HANGING’
should break the neck
should snap it
in two
or three, or four parts
it doesn’t really matter
as long as the dead man
suffers the

JUDICAL ‘L
O
N
G
DROP’
Or

JUDICAL ‘L
O
N
G
HANGING’
and, the dead man falls
onto the ground
w/ the neck
broken
fragmented into pieces
as long as he’s scattered
like pick-up- sticks
as long as he’s littered on the floor.

He
needed
the longest drop
about
TEN FEET
(that’s about five feet
shorter than the dead man
from head to toe)

and the dead man falls. But,
they must remember
that too long a

JUDICAL ‘L
O
N
G
DROP’

Or

JUDICAL ‘L
O
N
G
HANGING’

leads to decapitation

it doesn’t really matter
as long as the
dead man
suffers

**************************
He says
she won’t reach nirvana.

She started off as a larva,
consuming,
devouring green things, sucking out the chlorophyll,

She didn’t know what she was doing.

It came naturally,
this need to be consuming.

Then, she changed into a tree
She reached and stretched and grew deep
into the earth, creating geometric shapes, with her
roots.

It came naturally
this need to break through things.

He says
I create my spirit

He whispers this,
into his napkin as he watches
her walk down
the stairs.
And he sees her reflection
in the mirror.
Tired, ready, aging
She didn’t know what she was doing.
He reached and stretched
And she pointed her toes as
She walked

Graceful, ready, youthful.

Then, she became new.
She burst into flames, scattered into stars.
He says,
she won’t reach nirvana.
She started off as a bird,
Singing, crying, waiting for the light

She knew what she was doing.

He says
Imagine me, so I can exist
Her reflection in the mirror.
He watched as it scattered into
geometric shapes, circles and spirals.

It came naturally
This need to watch her leave.

**********************
See the poppy seeds
start wars in east
Asian countries
on little islands where
soldiers smoke numbness
through wooden pipes

The smoke funnels
like the roots of a tree, into the air
into the porous skin, into
the tropical rain clouds overhead.

They beat and fluff out nicely.

They see lucid images of
little girls in sari’s floating around a fountain
of red wine and of fingers playing on
guitars weaving through space
at a hundred miles an hour.

They are recorded by
scribes on papyrus
as they sit under the stars on a clear
night where the Junks
are out on the bay. Little lights, strung up on their masts.

See the wind, colliding with the sail.

They swallow wind.
They butcher water.

they smoke numbness
through wooden pipes in east
Asian countries where
there are Neolithic pots decorated
with cowrie shells from some place in
Africa where numbness does not live.

They float around the mud huts.
They jump ditches that protect
their cassava and peanuts.

They see lucid images of
a tumor breaking through skin
Like the head of a cauliflower,
vomiting small amounts of blood on its horizon.

They eat through skin.
They beat and fluff out nicely.

***no drama. fine******

where have you gone joe di-maggio?

2008-04-13T20:52:00.000-07:00
I am listening to Simon and Garfunkel and I am working on resumes.

It is going to be another long day.

So, Cher: I want to do something for humanity.
Josh: How about sterilization?

and listen to THE JAM- "That's Entertainment" this will give you an idea of how I am feeling.
ha, god so dramatic and it's not even lunch time.

(ian, hope the shower went well. I've got gifts. Like a baby tee that reads: Pinoy Ako!)

I'll be a TITA in a month.

lyrics for all of you:

A police car and a screaming siren -A pnuematic drill and ripped up concrete -A baby waiting and stray dog howling -The screech of brakes and lamplights blinking -
that's entertainment.
A smash of glass and the rumble of boots -An electric train and a ripped up 'phone booth -Paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat -Lights going out and a kick in the balls -
that's entertainment.
Days of speed and slow time Mondays -Pissing down with rain on a boring Wednesday -Watching the news and not eating your tea -A freezing cold flat and damp on the walls -
that's entertainment.
Waking up at 6 a.m. on a cool warm morning -Opening the windows and breathing in petrol -An amateur band rehearsing in a nearby yard -Watching the tele and thinking about your holidays -
that's entertainment.Waking up from bad dreams and smoking cigarettes -Cuddling a warm girl and smelling stale perfume -A hot summers' day and sticky black tarmac -Feeding ducks in the park and wishing you were faraway -

that's entertainment.

Two lovers kissing amongst the scream of midnight -Two lovers missing the tranquility of solitude -Getting a cab and travelling on buses -Reading the graffiti about slashed seat affairs -
that's entertainment.

Okay, I am going to be a "real" person and stuff. I'll let you know if
I get the job. I am all for the advancement of third world countries. CIAO!

"cliche, I know"

2008-04-09T19:10:00.000-07:00
I haven't updated in a while

"I know, but the speed of the world was sane up to the point when I fell asleep last night. Beyond that I can't be sure."

A few things:
1. ice skating
2. DURAN DURAN (tonight!)
3. Restaurant etiquette and behavior
4. music. cowbell and drums.
5. writing for wimps

I like the word wimp just like the word automatic but not quite. you put them together and you get automatic-wimp. I wonder what this means. I think about Ryan Adams and cold roses.
and, how much I want to drive down a highway (like really fast). I want to do this without speed limits or whatever. I want to f'n fly. I've said this before but I think I mean it this time.

Right now, I am listening to Ryan Adams' cover of WONDERWALL.

"And, I am sure you've heard it all before
But you never really had a doubt
I don't believe that anybody feels
The way I do about you now ."

peace mofo. yeah, right on!

travel feature

2008-04-02T20:54:00.000-07:00

I am working on a travel feature on Cambodia.

This is all I have so far:

Women are not allowed to touch Buddhist Monks in Cambodia.

I found this out the hard way.

Okay, I don't like it. It's a dry opening. But, It's a start. This is usually what happens. I write 12 openings and then end up starting with the middle of the article.

Oi!

2008-04-02T07:18:00.000-07:00
I am sick and Ross won't stop listening to AC DC.

I can't get Tnt out of my head.

See me ride out of that sunset
On your color TV screen
Out for all that I can get
If you know what I mean
Women to the left of me
And women to the right
Ain't got no gun
Ain't got no knife
Don't you start no fight
Cause I'm T.N.T
I'm dynamite T.N.T. and I'll win that fight
T.N.T. I'm a power load
T.N.T. watch me explode
I'm dirty, mean and mighty unclean
I'm a wanted man
Public enemy number one
Understand?
So lock up your daughter
Lock up your wife
Lock up your back door
And run for your life
The man is back in town
So don't you mess around
Cause I'mT.N.T.
I'm dynamiteT.N.T.
and I'll win the fightT.N.T.. I'm a power load
T.N.T. watch me explode

what would it feel like to explode?

crazy people

2008-03-31T21:03:00.000-07:00
New opening line: "All the crazy people I've met, I've found on the street."

or something like this.

How Filipino am I?

[ X] eat rice like everyday
[ ] take off your shoes before you walk into someones house?
[ X] when you get in trouble, your parents look at you in a weird way?
[ ] you get hit with the hand or a slipper or a belt?
[X ] you talk in tagalog a lot? (haha)
[X ] you've been to the Philippines?
[X ] your parents are strict but cool?
[X ] you sing or put on the magic mice at parties
[ x] you sometimes act as if you're in the Philippines?
[X ] you bless your elders by the hand?
[ X] you eat Filipino food a lot?
[ ] at parties, you always serve at least bbq, pancit, and rice?
[ X] you always serve your guest food or drinks, even if they don't want any?
[x ] you have a lot of plants in your house
[ X] you break the rules a lot.

I am apparently only 60% Filipino.
Go figure.

book worms

2008-03-29T02:26:00.001-07:00
I am reading AUTO FICTION.

I will not stop till I understand how she writes so well.

Maybe, I will never know.

laLalaLA, I am such a nerd.

i feel like

2008-03-29T02:22:00.000-07:00

I like to make play lists on aeroplanes!!!

2008-03-27T07:45:00.000-07:00
Things never go as planned.

remember: play list was written on Tui Non (motion sickness bag)
Vietnam Airlines
Flight from HO CHI MIN to SIEM REAP

I guess the playlist shows how I am feeling. Well, I guess "was" feeling would be more appropriate.

Transmission- Joy Division
Blankets like Beavers- Chin up Chin up
Some Cities - Doves
Alala - CSS
Tomorrow - Death Cab For Cutie
Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys
Under the Milkyway Tonight - echo and the bunnymen
Busy Signal - the exploding hearts
(Just Like We) Breakdown - Hot Chip
Sunny Afternoon - the Kinks
Never as Tired as when I am waking up- LCD Soundsystem
Say What You Mean - Make Believe
Love is a Place - Metric
Ursa Minor - At the Drive in
The Charming Man - The Smiths
Megalomaniac - +/-
Easy Girl - Coconut Records
Alone in Kyoto- Air

*****

Siem Reap (which means the place where Siem fell)
to Hanoi, 2 hours; heavy head; tired eyes; little brother on shoulder; music blocks noise; i've decided to stop listening to the news

a few things i've learned (mostly thanks to the discovery channel): Electricity wasn't invented it was discovered; don't be a dumbass; half a volt is not alot of electricity; dumbass; it's much harder to find ancient DNA that's still intact; my DNA isn't intact?; that's right dumbass! it has trees growing out of it; oh, like tomb raider shit; that's right dumbass just like tombraider; oh, there's no way that humans alone could have built it; where do you think DNA comes from?; Oh, the universe, the solar system; it radiates; it breaks apart; it has gravity, weight, movement.

Playlist on THE SOCIALIST REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM's ARRIVAL- DEPARTURE DECLARATION CARD

What's up- 4 non blondes
can't smile without you - Barry M.
son of a preacher man- Dusty S.
Somebody I used to know - Elliot Smith
Let's Go - the feelies
Mushaboom (postal service remix)- Feist
Dreams- Fleetwood Mac
Lovers need lawyers- the good life
Parenthesis - the blow
forth time around - bod dylan
It's all gonna break - broken social scene
glory days- bruce springsteen
Drive- the cars
Needy girl - chromeo
the most beautiful girl - data rock
Ava Adore- smashing pumpkins
Gut feeling- Devo
Look After Me - Hot Chip
Lola - the kinks
City girl- kevin shields

*****
saigon to manila
philippine airlines; on tranquil traveller ; for your comfort and well being in the air; feathers; pillow forts.

dance music - the mountain goats
trapped under ice floes- +/-
i don't like it like this - the radio dept.
california - joni mitchell
hey- pixies
the twist - metric
the ocean - VHS or BETA
trigga hiccups- menomena
augustine - patrick wolf
where you'll find me now - neutral milk hotel
bodysnatchers - radio head
singing in my sleep - semisonic
prophecy - remy zero
mad world - tears for fears
satellite - TV on the RADIO
Dancing Barefoot - Patti Smith
It's a hit - Rilo Kiley
;mirror in the sky what is love?; a: BODY SNATCHER

Kayuzo Sejima

2008-03-17T22:52:00.000-07:00
I wish I was an architect.
Poetic, because:
"The fifteen rooms are there to allow both escape and togetherness, 'so that people can choose their distance depending on their feeling.' "

nice boy

2008-03-15T00:53:00.000-07:00

NOW, LIFE OST (also The BEACH OST)

2008-03-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

01 - Leftfield - Snakeblood
02 - All Saints - Pure Shores
03 - Moby - Porcelain
04 - Dario G Featuring Vanessa Quinones - Voices
05 - Underworld - 8 Ball
06 - Sugar Ray - Spinning Away
07 - Asian Dub Foundation - Return of Django
08 - Blur - On Your Own (Crouch End Broadway Mix)
09 - Mory Kante - Yeke Yeke (Hard Floor Mix)
10 - Faithless - Woozy
11 - Barry Adamson - Richard, It's Business As Usual
12 - New Order - Brutal
13 - UNKLE - Lonely Soul
14 - Angelo Badalamenti & Orbital - Beached
****
In other news...
My coffee mug has snowballs and reindeer as its day coat. It changes in the evening when it becomes my after dinner tea cup. When its evening coat , which has a billy goat on a sun burnt hill who seeks shelter underneath a weeping Banyan tree, reminds me that I am tropical;
I cry for the first time in a long time. I am reminded that I am not cut out for the winter.

day glo/ disco

2008-03-13T18:42:00.000-07:00
"BRUTAL" new order:
Sometimes I feel
That you're a part of me
Although it don't seem real
It's how I want it to be
But if you can't stay then I'll understand
You're just sawdust in my empty hand
If you can't decide
I'll still be true
Just open wide
I'm here for you

And if you think that you've found
A gentle sound
Where love breaks down
It's alright.
And if you can't overcome
What get's you down
Don't get uptight
It's alright.

*****
Runway
walks like
everyone's watching
but, no one really sees
the beauty of his
skin
eye color
lip shape

they're too busy
worrying about
their own shapes
eye color
skin type
... to think about his shape
would be to break open the
parts of the solar system
like they're covered in bubble
wrap

then, they'd cut up what was whole into
fractions, and scribble their
findings in notebooks...
Their notebooks
eventually get placed on a shelf.
they aren't covered in
bubble wrap
because now they are
covered in dust.

contents/spill out of holes

2008-03-12T23:26:00.000-07:00
these pictures work well together. they tell a story. although, I am not quite sure what story. Perhaps, it's the color purple or the things haning on the walls.

on holes: " I had been wondering all along whether it was really safe to put a whole through such a tough part of the body."- H. Kanehara

books

2008-03-12T23:09:00.000-07:00
Nabokov wrote all of his novels on index cards first. Vera would drive him around for hours. He'd sit in the back seat and write. These little lines would come and go. He knew everything about his characters before he wrote them. I am a hopeless case of a Nabokovian Existentialist
Wannabe Writer/critic. I hate critics, too bad.

I am a critic.

Critic/ Recent Books I like:
Anthropology and A Hundred Other Stories -Dan Rhodes
V. - Thomas Pynchon
Snakes & Earrings- Hitomi Kanehara
Hip: The History- John Leland
Nonviolence: Twenty-five Lessons from The History of a Dangerous Idea- Mark Kurlansky

Critic's quote/say/decide:
"...No doubt Orwell would have been skeptical of the contentions advanced by author Mark Kurlansky in his new primer, "Nonviolence: Twenty-Five Lessons From the History of a Dangerous Idea." Compared with the standard histories offered in American public education, these arguments can safely be described as contrarian: "The case can be made that it was not the American Revolution that secured independence from Britain," Kurlansky writes; "it was not the Civil War that freed the slaves; and World War II did not save the Jews."
"For every Crusade and Revolution and Civil War," he explains further, "there have always been those who argued, with great clarity, that violence not only was immoral but that it was even a less effective means of achieving laudable goals." Joining the chorus of dissidents, Kurlansky attempts to shed light on the epic failures of warfare to secure peace, as well as to cultivate a new understanding of "the way in which things actually happen" in history."

how do you commit?

2008-03-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

like this. or this?
or,
"I am an American aquarium drinker
I assassin down the avenue
I'm hiding out in the big city blinking
What was I thinking when I let go of you?

Let's forget about the tongue-tied lightning
Let's undress just like cross-eyed strangers
This is not a joke, so please stop smiling
What was I thinking when I said it didn't hurt?"

OH, Wilco.

today Labyrinth

2008-03-10T21:21:00.000-07:00
... I'm going to make hummus and some Shepherd's Pie for Ross who has this fascination with everything English
.... Because he drinks tea in the morning with cream and sugar and he sips it and says "Good morning love..." and I laugh because he tries so hard. I stopped trying a while ago

... I am going to the art museum
... I am going to fly to Egypt and buy a camel and ask it about storage and room and how it manages to hold it all in when it gets too heavy or when it it just wants to let go.
.... sea turtles, people, city, volcano, coffee....

I am going to the grocery
... I am going to lay by the pool and read all about Japanese sub-culture... "a cult classic" what does this mean anyway? Just like John Hughes, The Labyrinth, Taxi Driver... Ok, get the picture?

....
"If I'd live in another time or place
my story might have had a very different ending."
or how about this one?
" Love is all a matter of timing."

Think long.

Patti Smith, Novels start out in little paragraphs like this one but probably not!

2008-03-09T22:34:00.000-07:00
after an hour long conversation with my mom about boys, life, beaches, how much love we have...
Ready, Start, now: OK! GO!
after almost a foot of snow had fallen on to the ground and then hung on like cement, of course I had to think about how some part of me was bathing in the pacific, laying on a beach coated in coconut sun oil. Of course, She's listening to music. For her, there was always music--the sound of the crabs feeding on the sand, the crackling of rock against shell as it comes in on the tide in waves of threes and fours. There are no white caps only clear, blue waters. She says in a whispher, "I am coming closer to you."
Sand covers the earth the same way snow does. It just sings a different song.

Oh, I've been feeling strange. I feel kind of like a crab or a mongoose.

Patti Smith helps. She reminds me that I am human.

"here I go and I don't know why I fell so ceaselessly could it be he's taking over me... I'm dancing barefoot heading for a spin some strange music draws me in makes me come on like some heroin... (oh god I fell for you ...)"

enough of that/this.
I am extra tired today. And, I mean it this time. I am going to listen to some Toto and cuddle next to my puppy who is sick. He's got some sort of infection. His coughs sound deep and painful.
I pretend to understand how he feels. I realize that I will never know for sure how he feels.
I guess this is the nature of relationships. There are always walls.

recently played

2008-03-06T21:56:00.000-08:00
Where you been?
When we meet we can talk awhile
I can sleep in your dreams
And true affection floats
True affections sinks like a stone
I never felt so close
I never felt so all alone

... I've been waiting a while
for Wine, then bed, then more, then again
for true affection and you were 20,000 underneath the sea
When you say it's no love affair
I will know and when we go
I'll be the only thing who cares.
And I still believe in the phrases that we breathed
But I know the distance isn't fair to cross
... I've been waiting a while
I can't stay, I can for the night, for the night
For the weekend and the night
I've been aiding my fall
Aiding my fall, aiding my fall

I can sleep in your dreams
You can take a live wire into the bath with you
For a feeling you can't find
You can entertain your childhood friends with a tour of the bedroom
Laugh to erase the dirt on your mind

The night alone I've been waiting...
Too little too late but we don't say no
It's too much to feel
I'll be long gone

I will know and when we go
I'll be the only thing who cares

****
the Blow- true affection
sunset rubdown-three colors
the numbers- beast life
the smiths- I started something I couldn't finish
talk talk- it's my life
Tapes n' Tapes- Omaha
semisonic-singing in my sleep
the willoz- something
+/- -Here we are again
the kinks- Lola
Echo & the Bunnymen- under the milky way tonight
coconut records-easy girl
sufjan stevens- chicago
the blood brothers- love rhymes with a hideous car wreck
sonic youth- superstar
why?- yo yo goodbye
new order- ceremony
gang of four- natural's not in it
the moldy peaches- anyone else but you
the cure- all cats are grey
the beatles- I will
CSS- Let's make love and listen death from above

It's true...
We all have good intentions
But all with strings attached

statistics... I am one

2008-03-06T21:53:00.001-08:00
the science of sleep
is difficult
to maneuver and
understand.

here's a scientific
truth?
statistical truth!
... More than 70 million Americans
are affected by sleep problems
.. averaging 4.5 hours a night

this explains allot about
america and
allot about me.

warhol love

2008-03-05T19:59:00.000-08:00

words/ play/ randomly:

photo
pieces

warholian mentality

anger comes from
not knowing
how to be

free

more walls

2008-03-05T19:23:00.000-08:00
I have photo lessons later. Here are some walls that I like.
I like walls. They keep things out. They keep things in.

make me happy.

2008-03-05T19:16:00.000-08:00

i've been going through old pictures. the memories come in cycles.
this one is a charmer. it provides the warm and fuzzy feeling...
it is beautiful even if we're drunk and it was taken with a disposable camera.
i love it. it is my favorite.

shark

2008-03-04T21:01:00.000-08:00
...except i think the shark thing is a myth.

just an after thought.

I am REALLY studying my history-- the US Occupation.

So, I've been thinking allot about occupation, resistance, capture...

What would this feel like... to be the one who does the capturing?

relationship advice

2008-03-04T20:57:00.000-08:00
Oh, Woody Allen!

- A relationship, I think, is like a shark. You know? It has to constantly move forward or it dies. And I think what we got on our hands is a dead shark.

-Sylvia Plath - interesting poetess whose tragic suicide was misinterpreted as romantic by the college girl mentality.

I am moving on from "college girl mentality." I am not sure if this is a good thing.

I love +/- and this is the soundtrack to post-college girl mentality.

speaks wonders,
wise words

Liz's Monologue: she sounds like me!

2008-03-03T03:25:00.000-08:00

Liz interviewed me the other day. She interviewed me for a monologue. I've been meaning to put this up for a while.
/ thanks Liz ! Oh and I will "keep adding to (my) sentences rapidly, making (my) thoughts little islands connected by dashes." /

Q: Have you ever been close to death?

Well yeah, well my grandpa died when I was like thirteen but that was like the closest I’ve been to someone that I-I loved experiencing death but um, I think the first time I experienced death was probably when I went to the American cemetery here and that’s like—a WWII memorial for all the soldiers, the American soldiers that were here during the war that died.

They have all these crosses without names on them, they just have numbers but there are no bodies in them.

And I remember thinking like, “Well that’s weird…like we’re remembering people but there’s no physical evidence of them being on earth really, just these crosses have numbers--it’s really bizarre.”

So, that was my first experience with death but I think my grandpa’s death was a big deal too…

Um, I was actually in a play when it happened, I was doing Grease (laughs), and um…I-I was Rizzo and my dad, like, I remember looking, for my dad in the audience, he wasn’t there and I was like “Whoaa, that’s not cool,” you know?

And I found out after, my grandpa had a stroke, which was really sad, but….cause he wasn’t sick or anything, he was healthy and then, um, he had a stroke, he was at the dinner table? He was eating and he had a stroke.

So um…I don’t know, my grandmother was there and she was telling me about it the other day…and I was like “oh that’s so sad,” I didn’t know that everyone was home when it happened, but it was very, um….(can’t finish)

Like, I like to think my grandpa’s still here, right? Somewhere…like, part of him.

Um, and so it’s possible because I think—you know, that’s the hardest thing about death is that…someone leaves for good, and you can’t call them up on the phone and you can’t like, uhh talk to them…so--and hear their voice--so I think—that’s when I started praying again really, was like after he died and um, I mean I don’t do it as often as I used to but—you know, I think that was a way of talking to him.

That’s why a lot of the stuff I write is, I think, revolves around him. Like, the idea of the spirit of him being around.

There’s some places here that remind me of him and like, foods that I eat that remind me of him? Like, there’s a thing here called pan de sal which are little pieces, like, they’re little pieces of bread and they’re salty, and you would put sugar cubes on them and when I was little, we made them, and they were like salty and sugary on the inside—like, around the inside. But that’s what they tasted like. Um, the texture’s really weird.

So everytime I eat that I think of him…but yeah, usually when people talk about that, that’s what I think of, about death.

How I felt, and how my family felt, and how I still feel about it.

But um, I think it gets easier dealing with someone gone like that, like I still feel like he’s here in little things like pictures and food (laughs). Cause he loved food.

Yeah, I wish I could say that I still believed in like heaven, or hell, but I think—I don’t know, I-I feel like we invent stuff like that to deal with it, to make it easier, you know?

Um, I mean maybe you live on with people who love you, maybe that’s why you need to make connections with people…I don’t know.

NYC Calling

2008-03-02T17:57:00.001-08:00
Lauren and I
are NYC Girls '08.

cambodia calling

2008-03-02T17:49:00.000-08:00
I received an offer the other day. It's an offer to photograph Cambodia.

V. Underground. Peace. Joy Division.

2008-03-01T17:49:00.000-08:00

I was singing it in my sleep. Now, I am singing it still...

Sunday morning
Brings the dawn in
It's just a restless feeling by my side
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It's just the wasted years so close behind
Watch out the world's behind you
There's always someone around you who will call
It's nothing at all

Sunday morning
And I'm falling
I've got a feeling I don't want to know
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It's all the streets you crossed, not so long ago
Watch out the world's behind you
There's always someone around you who will call
It's nothing at all

Sunday morning

Also, I had a dream featuring Joy Division. In the dream, I was Ian Curtis' girlfriend. We were out for a drive on a foggy day. He crashed into a tree. "LOVE will TEAR US APART!" started playing. The fog played it. It sang and I listened. I am listening, still.

flower poetry

2008-02-28T17:32:00.000-08:00
" Artificial flowers! Petunias, these are, and violets,probably. Weeks pass, and they don't fade. I wait for them to droop as in a natural cycle. But they are stubbornly unalive and therefor unwilting, so they must be plastic, with machine- made blues and yellows and whites. Imagine that:plastic-flower sorrow." - C. Baxter-

Variation, Manipulation

She belongs to
a family with hundreds of
species just like her

they exist as:
flowering trees
magnolias
daisies
they are ornamental.
they manipulate
they know how to
engage, disengage
petals, sepals
reach out their
hungry arms.
They fascinate the eyes.
He belongs to a family with thousands of species
just like him
they breathe the same air
they are:
grasses
palms
lilies
onions
bananas
orchids
His leaves are narrow
and long
His veins run next to each other
in parallel paths
They are two lines that never meet.
They run lengthwise.
Her roots are normally woody.
They absorb the nutrients.

They make the connection.

cookbook. love.

2008-02-27T21:21:00.001-08:00

Today, I had to explain to my Dad that "No, THE FEAST OF LOVE is not a cookbook!" and "No,
I am not in a weird mood. I just don't feel like swimming!"

But, then maybe I am in a weird mood... I haven't been sleeping (like at all lately). There is no real reason for this...
Perhaps, b/c of these pretend conversations I like to have in my head. Most of the "pretend convos" occur in Paris Cafes. Like that Jim Jarmusch film with the coffee and cigarettes and cafes. And, oh so very French Philosophical conversation.
So, take this JARMUSCH! Ha
SLEEPLESSNESS/ the Reasons

"ANXIETY?"
"Perhaps, I am anxious, tangental, and incoherent"
"Commitment Anxiety."
" I am not irresponsible"
"You are not answering the question."
"Yeah. Yes. Perhaps I am more than a little Fucked up."

Oh, shit. This conversation reads like dialogue from a prententious Indie flick where all the characters "prentend" to have problems to fit in... to be modern or too post-modern or existential or whatever. They do this to "pretend" to feel. They are less lonely in their feeling.
These aren't real conversations.

But, then what's real anyway? what's actual? Oh, k. Now we are getting to the root of the issue.
I need to stop thinking. This pseudo-philosophical dialog is kind of making me feel shit-er. ha, I like the word "shit" a lot. Maybe, because my Dad once told me that "shit" is not a feminine word."
He said,
"Pretty little Asian Girls should not be using such words."
I said,
"Why not?" (I wanted to say, "Why the fuck not?")
A:
"Boys don't like girls who sound like Futbol players."
My A:
"What if in a past life I was a Futbol player?"
He said:
"Just do as your told..."
My A:
"Si, papa."
A:
"Oh, don't get cute with me"
I made him Beso. I gave myself a pat on the back. Good, Girl! bravo!

....
So, I am done being crazy.
"When you pour your first cup of coffee of the day, if you're feeling crummy, put a dab of ice cream into it. It's festive. Then you gotta trudge off like everyone else, like I said, but you got the ice cream with you. Forget art. Put your trust in Ice-cream."

Or, this one about meteors:
" Because it was august or because it was time for them to die. The meteors were all suicidal. They were bored with space, he said, looking up toward the night sky. They were burning themselves in the atmosphere. A meteor deathfest. It was romantic, the way the trees were romantic..."

Speaking of ROMANTIC.
I had a conversation about first loves today.
"First loves never die..."
"... because, they evolve."
"I wish they'd evolve quickly."
"I hate my first love"
"That's not the worst thing that can happen to love. It can change into indifference."
"First love's name will always be on the tip of my tongue."
"... I say it when there's no one around. Or, when I examine pour sizes in the magnifying mirror. when I retrace fingerprints, kisses, conversations...."
".... this is when you realize... "
"what?"
"You need to stop pretending?"
"Pretending?"
"That you don't deserve love."
"Is love something you deserve?"
-- BESO--

One for the road... (or in my case the bed, my head is full of these conversations.)
"He made me feel actual."

ACTUAL
def
2 a: existing in act and not merely potentially b: existing in fact or reality <actual and imagined conditions> c: not false or apparent <actual costs>3: existing or occurring at the time : current actual commission of a crime>

What's that playing on the radio? A: "every picture tells a story... "

2008-02-26T20:17:00.000-08:00

this reminds me of Lolo
and I don't know why.
maybe, it's the colors, the rain drops,
the leaves.

Anne Frank and First love

2008-02-26T20:13:00.000-08:00

I've read her diary. I fell in love with it.

(this means so much)

the caption reads:
"A handout picture of Peter Schiff along with a dedication are shown Monday at the Anne Frank House in The Hague. Anne met Peter at school in 1940 and later, while in hiding in Amsterdam, wrote about how much she missed him. Anne died at Bergen-Belsen and Peter at Auschwitz."

REM! RAGE! PHOTOS BY ASPEN MAYS.

2008-02-22T21:40:00.000-08:00

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard,
taken years ago,
turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.

Nightswimming
deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
replaced by everyday.

the tide is high. Oh! this is reggae!

2008-02-22T21:02:00.000-08:00
Today I am all about the positive vibes. I can't get rid of the Marijuana stamp on my right hand from the Xamaca jam-dance fest last night. Oh the universe! Oh I need to stop using such (un)hip lingo.

Xamaca means:
a.The name of Xamaca has given you an appreciation for many beautiful and refined aspects of life--music and art, literature, drama--and the outdoors, where you find much peace and relaxation, but it creates a far too sensitive nature.
b. You rarely experience the tranquility that comes with stability of thinking or emotional control. (OH, this is true of me!)

I am writing about swimming pools again. In my dreams, they are deep, cold and daunting.

I went swimming the other night. (see: REM NightSwimming)
Here's a beginning story(?)

They were there to make laps around the pool. It was 9:30 pm Manila time and they needed a place to (go) disappear. Now, it is 9:35 pm and they have just discovered that people fade (away) in different ways.
Some do it gradually and sink slowly into the water. They make little bubbles when they do this.
They they come up for a breath. They breathe the same way they fade away--slowly and deliberately. Still, others tend to get lost in the water. They do this fearlessly like sperm whales or dolphins who dive effortlessly for fish. They breathe loudly. They explode into the water like gun shots or battering rams. It is almost like the water doesn't see them coming. It is almost as if their bodies--made up of tiny particles w/c are held together by the contrasting differences of light, dark, positive and negative-- they are part of the water. The water is made up of them. They are made up of the water.
There are the others who fade away unwillingly. They act like prisoners to the water like a blaze of fire that was once ferocious and strong but has succumbed to the chemical bonds of those elements-- hydrogen and oxygen. It is almost funny. They think to themselves. (...) how something once life giving like oxygen can cause so much destruction.
This is what happens when the right bonds are made. These complex bonds emit their own form of light, beauty and happiness. They experience their own form of ecstasy.
A list of the faders:
1. the swimmer- S/he knows the basic rules of the water: flotation, buoyancy and movement.
MOVEMENT- The way the water caves into the pressure of th human body, velocity, gravity. It's amazing how many factors go into swimming.
BUOYANCY- In order to swim, you have to float and when submerged you must be able to come up for air. Buoyancy allows for breathing-- the bobbing of the head w/c is kind of like bobbing for apples.
FLOTATION- This is a completely different story. There are methods of flotation: horizontal, vertical, and vertical then horizontal. All methods work the same way. Floating is safe. Diving in is not.

---
The swimmer does her laps around the pool.
1st breast strokes
-30th: 60 back and forth(s) all-in-all
all-in-all
She swims around the pool 3o times. She comes up for air 180 times. She sees things when she comes up for a breath. There are other people making laps around the pool.

what I contain

2008-02-21T23:39:00.000-08:00

Chris Marker said: "How do we remember if we don't photograph?"
How do we remember? hmm, yes, like this...
Dad with Camera

Mom listening to Records
Sept. 1976

Nothing's gonna change my world

2008-02-21T23:24:00.000-08:00
today is filled with lyrics like these.
1. Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open ears
exciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which
shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe

2.And when I awoke, I was alone, this bird had flown
So I lit a fire, isn't it good, norwegian wood.

3. Like the naked leads the blind.
I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind.
Sucker love I always find,
Someone to bruise and leave behind.

All alone in space and time.
Theres nothing here but what heres heres mine.
Something borrowed, something blue.
Every me and every you.

4. But she expressed herself in many different ways,
Until she lost control again.
And walked upon the edge of no escape,
And laughed I've lost control.

5. Funny how I find myself in love with you
If I could buy my reasoning I'd pay to lose
One half won't do
I've asked myself
How much do you commit yourself?

It's my life
Don't you forget
It's my life
It never ends

6. When I woke up tonight
I said I'm gonna make somebody love me
I am Gonna make somebody love me
And now I know, now I know, now I know
I know that it's you
You're Lucky, lucky, you're so lucky
Well do ya, do ya, do ya wanna 2x
Wanna go where I never let you before

Here we are at the transmission party
I love your friends
They're all so arty
Oh yeah

Oh yeah...

i want you to want me

2008-02-20T22:46:00.000-08:00

cheap tricks.
i am not doing what i should be doing. but then when am I ever doing what I should be doing? hmm...

i like walls.

Oh! GQ PUPPIES

2008-02-20T07:08:00.000-08:00
more puppies...
b/c they're cute and they know it!

Chewy's a GQ puppy

2008-02-20T07:03:00.000-08:00

Chewy Chongson has a secret life.
I discovered his secret today while flipping through an old issue of GQ.
I found him in the pets section.
What a HOT puppy!

bed hair. bed riots. street riots.

2008-02-19T20:38:00.000-08:00

i want to lay in bed all day.

search will continue

2008-02-18T00:20:00.000-08:00
To quote, to edit: "I imagine my search will continue--somewhere. A search for something that could very well be shaped like a door. Or maybe something closer to an umbrella, or a doughnut.
Or an elephant. A search that, I hope, will take me where I am likely to find it." H. Murakami

lonely. tiger. love.
---------------------
The tiger meows daily at 10 am and 7pm. They say, he butchered his mate between the hours of 9am- 10 am. They say this happened over a year ago. Apparently, he tore her apart.

translation of the killing (imagination)
He went for her neck first. She left a bitter taste in his mouth--jack fruit, iron, steel.
He killed her to be closer to her. To know what it would feel like to miss her.
Now, he knows. He calls out.
----
Here's a translation of meows:
Now love, you feel my hair between your teeth. Tastes like orange, black licorice I imagine that bites taste different than kisses with my little pieces grinding, mixing between your teeth. The juices that held me together flow apart through your teeth, down your throat and into your mouth. My destruction works like osmosis. The particles move from an area of greater concentration to one of lesser. I am dismantled, disembodied.

10 am. MEOW- It's a deep sound. Where is comes from is a mystery. Perhaps from somewhere deep inside? It was swimming inside before it felt like coming out. I hear it--you. The message is full of missing pieces. This is what it feels like to miss someone. Now, you feel like it's your fault. It's animal instinct--evolution. We evolve to survive.
Translation:
M- memory
e-evolution
o-osmosis
w- when?
why?
who? } wicked
Why you?
well, someone had to do it.
I could have killed you too. At least, we tried to make it. We spelled it out in meows, in licks, in IOU's. You always liked the taste of my skin. You'd say, "I want to get underneath to feel, to understand why you whisper secrets, under your breath, in the middle of the night."
And, "What do you whisper? The secrets of your parts--your lips, what your whiskers feel when they rub up against my paw. Your whispers probably reveal the secrets of atoms, of their attraction and repulsion. You feel the energy. You understand. You should have spelled it out for me. Oh, all of your secrets did not come apart when I held you in my mouth. Even with your body broken apart in pieces the secrets remained silent, waiting."

7pm meow- It's an epic sound like an orchestra playing Mozart to a crowded house of WASPS and socialites. They sip their cocktails. They are not here for the music b/c they are here for each other. Or, more likely, they are here to be seen by each other. "Oh, see all the latest Dolce , PRADA, ESCADA." "OH, hear about how so-and-so did this because she was visiting so-and-so's husband at a ski resort some where in Europe.
"what?" "What about the music?"
M- me without you
E- every thing's changed
O- Once, never
W- We stood up once
Now, You are caged and alone. Then, you remember how she tasted like licorice and oranges.