I, a hen

 I a hen scratching on your heart

Will you let me in?

Will you feed me with the scraps of your day

Will you feed my hunger with your bright smile

I would give you colorful threads, snipped off from the ragged ends of all my moments

Blue

Red

Green

Saffron yellow

The color of sunflowers and the sun and Costco cheddar

The color my throat burns all of the time for want of your kisses.

Drag

Everything has
Lost meaning. The grass is sun
bleached, lies itself down.

Egomaniac

If I am left to my own devices for too long
The world whirls out of focus,
I lose my balance

My mind
my mind chatters away,
Digging a hole to hide in

No reason why,
Only that I am paranoid,
and a narcissist,
and I'm not entirely sure I am lovable,
deserve to be loved
at the same time that I believe
Everyone should love me. 

Feck

Damn everything.

I'm listening to Leonard Cohen, I read the New Yorker article about his death this morning.

I drank jasmine tea, understeeped while eating oatmeal and reading "Walk Two Moons".

This thesis won't write itself, but there are other things calling, other things neglected in the neglecting of it.

Leonard's muse. My muse, I don't really have a muse, but I have a twinkle star that won't come to my fingers, eludes my veins.

Deeply feeling, do you suppose? Or just a twisted column, kinked towards the bottom?

Damn everything with a fork and spoon, my life will probably sputter out, ghost promises and cobweb hopes.

The Cripple of Inishmaan, brutal and sweet and cruel, feeds some of this, perhaps. Bitter.

Talking to myself talking to someone else

I can relate to this quite a bit right now. Growing up in this world seems so difficult, and so often it feels like there is no community of support to all the little fledglings trying to take flight.
Sometimes, when it feels like everything's falling to pieces, it's just the world rearranging itself into a new pattern around you, and I really feel like it'll always get better somehow, even if it's just tiny things like noticing a sunbeam on a wall that strikes you as really beautiful, or an old friend suddenly showing up to just give you a hug.
Sometimes, when life and the future feels really overwhelming, it can help to choose just one thing to work towards and accomplish, something that you know you'll thank yourself for later.
This is a song I often listen to when I'm feeling really down or angry or just generally irritable and unsure of everything: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8k9rD7lx9c
I hope this helps, dearheart. You are loved. Bless us to bless each other. <3 p="">

Seasonal Affective Disorder maybe? But that too would feel like theft and misalignment. None of it matters anyway.

So basically, it feels like almost nothing I'm doing with my life lately is actually getting me anywhere. Don't know where it is I hope to go, exactly, but I'm feeling terribly stagnant and impotent.
I don't feel like I'm really learning anything well.

What do I have to give to people? Life as connection and network; but I don't know how to do that really. I'm not really woven into life, I don't really feel like I fit; I am jangling, dissonant.
I keep skipping days, or rather, living through them as through a dream, something to get me somewhere else I already am. I don't know... Can't really explain. And I guess that's what I figure my purpose is, explain the unexplainable, but does it even matter? Even if it matters not to anyone else, is it enough that it seems to matter to me?
I'm getting nowhere, and yeah, it feels like I ought to be getting somewhere, but I don't know how. I've got suspicions, but not much more than that, and I don't want to look at them too hard.
Trapped and stuck in all of these things I thought I didn't have to deal with anymore, or even yet. Somebody keeps saying that it is so easy to get out of it all, to move past it all, but here I am, futile and strung up.
Maybe I keep looking outside of myself too much, but I learn from the patterns of others. I'm kinda lost, and maybe it's just the weather, but I don't know. I'm so quick to adopt the things in others that I think fit in me, but I still feel like that's a little invalid, a little untrue. I'm so colorless, it seems, but that doesn't sound true either. Looks like I'm looking for truth, even though I thought I'd decided against that long ago. I decided to search for love and compassion rather than truth. Truth is so subjective.
Chasing my own tail and spinning off after the tails of others.
I don't really believe in this world, I guess that's why I don't fit. Where do I fit? It doesn't seem like I really fit here anymore, but even that is transitory.
Nothing's the right color. But that doesn't seem to matter either. I feel so autistic. But nobody believes that either, and probably they're right. Yeah, still stuck halfway between my feelings and others' sayings. So many dang directions...
Isn't it weird that you can live in your own body and head 24 hours a day, and still you don't understand yourself entirely? You don't know where everything inside you comes from or why? But it never works for me to just surf over it all, I have to experience it, dips and crescendos. I'm so torn still, still don't know why. Still don't know why. Thought I was getting closer, and maybe I am, but I really don't know. It's like nothing I do matters, and in one way, I don't care, but in another, it's driving me nuts. Sometimes I wonder if I'm one of those nineteen to twenty-one year olds who's going to spiral off into nothing in a fantastic display of insanity, but even that is nothing but idle curiosity, though I admit I have a morbid and self-effacing side I don't like to indulge often but still it comes up, all self-satisfied and smug every once in a while. Sometimes it's kinda perversely pleasurable to stare into the void, eyes wide and glittering.
Is it possible to be objective about oneself? I guess that's something I'm trying to figure out, but even that annoys my sometimes. I don't like being removed from myself and my feelings. I kinda have a tendency, it seems, to run away from that which makes me uncomfortable, but something always yanks me back, and now I am tiredly resigned to just going through whatever it is I have to. 

Guitar Lessons and Driver's Ed.

Forget all you thought you knew
in the effort to learn

Empty memory
Empty mind
For you cannot fill a cup that is already full
or can you?

First the golfballs, you know,
Then marbles, sand, and beer.
Can you still fill it?
Or, as with everything,
is there infinite space always within?

Sore fingers
and terror.
Missing days,
but in the future it will all be the same.
Or not.

Too much homework and no money
But I'm preparing for the future, right?