Latest Posts
Favorite Old Chestnuts
Contact Me
Sites I Like
Archives
24 March 2007 : better than mine.
the weekend and a phone call have me thinking about final destinations.
this is because i read too much fiction, i watch too much drama. because i don't hear his voice often enough from thousands of miles away. because i've been steady for so long.
the places you go and the places you end up, they're never the same.
i have plans, you see. but my plans keep getting in the way of my plans.
there are a couple of things that i want very badly. they're so improbable. the only way i can see to have them is in that starting over way. in that, this is the end and here's where i landed way, because everything else between then and now has failed.
i keep saying stupid things, letting my guard down.
so maybe i'll fail, at something. i failed at about ten things last night. i failed at about seventy last weekend. i'll keep doing it if i keep making impossible rules for myself. stick to it, stick to it. because what's integrity if not making sure you force yourself to see things through, even if you realize before the end how destructive they are?
(four things: i'm very tired, a little hungover, slightly panicked in an existential way, and sarcasm doesn't translate well into internet)
now i'm in this weird place where i kind of want to fail. i'm afraid i decided to go to school because i panicked. i'm afraid i decided to go to school because i just didn't know what the hell i was going to do otherwise. i've been in school for nineteen years; what's eight more? it's easier than living a different life.
unfortunately, i have other ideas. ideas about hiking on saturdays, ideas about big farmhouses with bigger gardens and canning in the fall. ideas about finally getting to see cera whenever i want, and ideas about slow breezes and something a little southern but still indiana. ideas about sweetly awkward kisses and just, for once, having no real responsibilities. ideas about a life that's built around me and nothing else.
i can't just say no. i can't just change my mind. can i?
here's the thing: i want to end up someplace other than where i'm headed.
it's just that right now, i'm not sure which is which.
posted by lindsay at 16:46 :: 3 comments
21 March 2007 : prepare yourselves for ludicrous speed.
those who do not acknowledge their mistakes, they're doomed to repeat themselves.
i guess that's true though it seems like just another characteristically unsage moment of trying too hard. because sometimes words are all you have, so you go for broke. make something up. if it sounds pretty enough, if the meter and the internal rhyme raise the hairs on your arm, maybe that means its true. then you're comforted.
i don't take that comfort anymore. it feels a little too high school, a little too selfish. i don't understand how poets live with themselves. don't they know how cliche they are?
me and you, we've been dancing for far too long. i have your textures burned onto my skin, i pressed too long against the rough edges of who you are. and i'm terrified of making this larger than it needs to be.
which doesn't seem right. it's been so segmented, so separated. time and distance have molded my perception of the situation. the fact that i haven't grown up, even a little, since we met, means i can't see you clearly.
but the fact is, i have something to tell you. and the fact is, i've needed to tell you before.
the fact is, i was too afraid to say it then thus opening the door on the necessity of saying it now.
listen: once there was convienence, and once there was obligation. they didn't coexist lightly, and neither of them had pale skin or brown eyes. neither of them painted their toenails red or leaned against you in the flickering light of the television.
we are not friends.
posted by lindsay at 06:36 :: 2 comments
the weekend and a phone call have me thinking about final destinations.
this is because i read too much fiction, i watch too much drama. because i don't hear his voice often enough from thousands of miles away. because i've been steady for so long.
the places you go and the places you end up, they're never the same.
i have plans, you see. but my plans keep getting in the way of my plans.
there are a couple of things that i want very badly. they're so improbable. the only way i can see to have them is in that starting over way. in that, this is the end and here's where i landed way, because everything else between then and now has failed.
i keep saying stupid things, letting my guard down.
so maybe i'll fail, at something. i failed at about ten things last night. i failed at about seventy last weekend. i'll keep doing it if i keep making impossible rules for myself. stick to it, stick to it. because what's integrity if not making sure you force yourself to see things through, even if you realize before the end how destructive they are?
(four things: i'm very tired, a little hungover, slightly panicked in an existential way, and sarcasm doesn't translate well into internet)
now i'm in this weird place where i kind of want to fail. i'm afraid i decided to go to school because i panicked. i'm afraid i decided to go to school because i just didn't know what the hell i was going to do otherwise. i've been in school for nineteen years; what's eight more? it's easier than living a different life.
unfortunately, i have other ideas. ideas about hiking on saturdays, ideas about big farmhouses with bigger gardens and canning in the fall. ideas about finally getting to see cera whenever i want, and ideas about slow breezes and something a little southern but still indiana. ideas about sweetly awkward kisses and just, for once, having no real responsibilities. ideas about a life that's built around me and nothing else.
i can't just say no. i can't just change my mind. can i?
here's the thing: i want to end up someplace other than where i'm headed.
it's just that right now, i'm not sure which is which.
Labels: When I grow up
posted by lindsay at 16:46 :: 3 comments
21 March 2007 : prepare yourselves for ludicrous speed.
those who do not acknowledge their mistakes, they're doomed to repeat themselves.
i guess that's true though it seems like just another characteristically unsage moment of trying too hard. because sometimes words are all you have, so you go for broke. make something up. if it sounds pretty enough, if the meter and the internal rhyme raise the hairs on your arm, maybe that means its true. then you're comforted.
i don't take that comfort anymore. it feels a little too high school, a little too selfish. i don't understand how poets live with themselves. don't they know how cliche they are?
me and you, we've been dancing for far too long. i have your textures burned onto my skin, i pressed too long against the rough edges of who you are. and i'm terrified of making this larger than it needs to be.
which doesn't seem right. it's been so segmented, so separated. time and distance have molded my perception of the situation. the fact that i haven't grown up, even a little, since we met, means i can't see you clearly.
but the fact is, i have something to tell you. and the fact is, i've needed to tell you before.
the fact is, i was too afraid to say it then thus opening the door on the necessity of saying it now.
listen: once there was convienence, and once there was obligation. they didn't coexist lightly, and neither of them had pale skin or brown eyes. neither of them painted their toenails red or leaned against you in the flickering light of the television.
we are not friends.
Labels: old chestnuts
posted by lindsay at 06:36 :: 2 comments