who am i kidding?

most holidays make me want to stay at home and watch movies. this one is no exception. part of it is all the drunk drivers &asshole cops that are lurking on any given street. the other part is the expectations and the commotion. i don't want to do anything different tonight than i did last night. after you spend a christmas or two without any human contact, it's right in front of you, the fact that it's a day of the week...a day you've never spent alone as long as you've been alive. i enjoy giving people gifts that i know they will use and it's a great excuse to bring your family together, BUT who are these holidays really for? whether or not you believe in god isn't the issue. whether or not you love your family isn't the issue. notice how a good share of churches do not celebrate Halloween. what is the church's earning potential on Halloween as opposed to chrismas? i'm sure if a person looked hard enough they could come up with a vague, unprovable religious connection in the history of Halloween. think of all the people you know who go to church two times a yr...xmas and good ol easter sunday! EASTER SUNDAY!!! when a half nude 33 yr old man rises from his pitiful tomb after his honorable self-sacrifice! what better a reason to give money to the church? the church is the house of this unbelievable saviour! this poem by t.s. eliot always makes me grin because it ever so gently insinuates the same points.

THE BROAD-BACKED hippopotamus
Rests on his belly in the mud;
Although he seems so firm to us
He is merely flesh and blood.
Flesh and blood is weak and frail,	5
Susceptible to nervous shock;
While the True Church can never fail
For it is based upon a rock.
The hippo’s feeble steps may err
In compassing material ends,	10
While the True Church need never stir
To gather in its dividends.
The ’potamus can never reach
The mango on the mango-tree;
But fruits of pomegranate and peach	15
Refresh the Church from over sea.
At mating time the hippo’s voice
Betrays inflexions hoarse and odd,
But every week we hear rejoice
The Church, at being one with God.	20
The hippopotamus’s day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way—
The Church can sleep and feed at once.
I saw the ’potamus take wing	25
Ascending from the damp savannas,
And quiring angels round him sing
The praise of God, in loud hosannas.
Blood of the Lamb shall wash him clean
And him shall heavenly arms enfold,	30
Among the saints he shall be seen
Performing on a harp of gold.
He shall be washed as white as snow,
By all the martyr’d virgins kist,
While the True Church remains below	35
Wrapt in the old miasmal mist.

You never learned a thing from me.


That's sort of a lie.

I think this is the only thing - I make half thoughts, wonderful beginnings and miserable fluffy ends but a piece is always missing from my mind, a small irreplaceable minute drip drop of sentence, it never fails, it never fails and I never fail to repeat myself and do you want to know this?! I want to tell you real things , real honest things that no one else could ever concoct but I can only say half of what I need to say,,,,, what does this do to my brains!? My mental situation is no good, no good at all! I need to get some sleep.



My house is clean for the first time since thanksgiving. it was a sunny day so i spent it raking leaves, weeding, and airing out laundry. it reminded me of the beach street house, the first house i lived in after moving out of my mom's. i lived with 5 other roommates and things became unbearably miserable about six months into it. my girlfriend and i moved out in the middle of the night when everyone was out of town. since then i have never stayed in one house for more than 6 months. i live alone now and i have already been subleasing here since september. i just signed my own year long lease...so what's going to happen three months from now when i am supposed to move to alaska for the entire summer?

rats and mashed potatoes

"one electron monster (reform_decay) wrote,

so, damien jurado is coming here. i don't know how i feel about some of his new stuff, but Waters Ave S was the album i listened to every morning on the hour long bus ride to anchorage and i fell inlove with all of the words. 97 it came out i think. in 97 i was in a jewish summer camp in new york. that was one of the worst summers of my life..rats and mashed potatoes and i feel comfortable leaving it at that.

im practicing dispersing my thoughts. this is the only way i remember anything"
-august 30th 2007

this past summer was horrible. fall didn't exist this go 'round and this winter is as hot as hell. i'm still happy for the most part. i know that i keep searching for what's missing. there's a figurative plug, or port, or vein of some sort that i must find in order to produce and be productive. this endless searching doesn't make me restless. i'm settled over the matter now: i can go on vacation now without exhausting my eyes, i can spend the weekend in a hot air balloon in the valley alone. i can hike with my family up to the top of the mountain. nothing can stop me now, not even pink eye! i don't want to fill myself up with something or someone. i like to exist on my own, i get a chuckle out of most things. lately at night i rush back to my little house so fast that i forget my wallet at work half the time. i guess the past few weeks all i've bought is gas and cigarettes anyhow. besides the kind of food you can get at gas stations on interstate exits, i've mostly lived off German holiday cookies with round unleven pieces of oblaten on the bottoms and spritz...they are iced with sprinkles &made with a cookie press that reminds me of the forties. eating these cookies for the first time in three years..the first time since my grandma died, i tasted that memory, pushed it around with my tongue for a bit, i tasted the jello and fruit mold and the german dresden christmas pig. i guess because it was a tradition for my grandma to make these cookies, they were something that could be expected, a safe &a sure thing. since i was born in 1987 i couldn't possibly have actual memories from the 1940's, but somehow through reincarnation-induced nostalgia i've come pretty close. those cookies couldn't taste more identical to the ones my grandma made every year. i never realized how much work they take, but they are worth it for the fake memories alone.

2:43 & my neighbor just got home with her cheesy British boyfriend. they both hugged me in our backyard the other day and it was so strange because lately she has become lifeless and i am convinced that he is a thief of some sort. i can't look him in the eyes. i've been locking my car and house a lot more lately. if it weren't for my dogs i'd be the easiest person to rip off. i really don't mind if people want what i have. nothing i own will make everything perfect.