hunger got in ophelia's eyes

"she's(sara palin) even stimulated a few democrats out there!"; yea, with her mouth.

lily's dad is in Sacramento. the Florida native wears turtlenecks when he visits California. even his Nike new balance tennis shoes scream conservative.

I am almost done with my book on the tudor family. there is no point to which people say "eh, i suppose we dont need to go that far". the 14th century was a scary time.

i will watch micha tonight.

good day.

blue blue stop go

i'm at the hanger listening to terra sing her heart out. she is beautiful. who is this girl?

also my ophelia has grown to be a monster. i love her.

lemon pie

i've lost two dogs in two weeks. i've lost over a decade of love that was compiled into two smiling hairy explanation marks. Still, my ophelia looks at me from my bedroom door as if i am the only thing she has or wants to know.

i will dress like a man and glue a beard on today.

my thoughts are humid. Difficult to walk through let alone sit in.
progression awaits my eyelids.
my jaw is clenched for now.


i am hopeful.

pass[please]time[so]long

The spin twists in rebuttal. Lengthy sentences without consistent charm. I have the blind tendency to nervously sweep my thoughts to somewhere I am unable to find them when I am nervous. My social skills have subsided.
[with spite]
How is it possible for one to accept and live for the freedom of the US and still have no tolerance or acceptance for those who live just as they do?
[time leaves]
The conscious replies to the world’s importance in secular beliefs. Is it what we believe to be true that becomes our faith? Or is our faith a predisposition to the familiar? We are loyal to what we believe unless we leave our bodies in passiveness. I am faithful to what I know. But do I know anything? My thoughts flow in no order that can be respected as concrete. Yet the faith that belongs to me is tolerant of others whose faith is bound by beliefs that constitute who we as Americans are created to be- faithful without content of belief. People have faith, yet their conscious does not. They are queered by logic. They are blind as I, with the tendency to not acknowledge the obvious. We cannot have faith without first believing logic.
[parting]

she is grace

hello tents and gnome caves-

[ache]
[ache]


My back feels as though someone is pressing a corner of an encyclopedia against it.

[ache]
[ache]


My mom fell this morning as i slept; tripping on dog piss on the way down. The winds are intense today. Raining pollen around and on me. I'm allergic to everything green. A day like today would not be placed in my favorite days list.

There is madness and nothingness creeping underneath the kids of downtown sacramento.
bars.
bars.
beer.
beer.
nothing.
nothing.
blank.

i look at those surronding me and ask myself why? why have most minds lost in rebutle of past comings?

no conditioner

my day has come and gone with swift force. i am now downtown in the mix of carried on speech.

i quit my job.
its almost over.
thank Jesus.

What is this, Wonka, some kind of funhouse? Why? Having fun?

There's no earthly way of knowing / Which direction we are going / There's no knowing where we're rowing / Or which way the river's flowing / Is it raining? / Is it snowing? / Is a hurricane a-blowing?

I sit above the masses. The woman nearest to me is pushing a cart that reads 'ready to catalog'. The man across this cubby desk is balding. I fear he lacks the lacking. What inspiration, what desired piece of a human being could, would, want, to exude from within him?

Lately I've been attempting to understand the consciousness of others surrounding me. What is important to them? For example, I have a late forties to early fifties gentleman in my poetry class. Grade A douche bag. He speaks of things that he forcefully tries to connect with through events or assumptions that have no congruency with the lecture at hand. He's the peer that everyone thinks should shut the fuck up. The peer you roll your eyes at, with certainty and aggravation in your chest awaiting his response to something in your text. What is important to him? What does he care about? The orange nature of his skin reminds me of a withered man that has been trying to hard his entire life. The knowledge he pertains is far from what I could say I have read or encountered. Yet still, i find him ignorant. Unintelligent. How can you know so much and still think nothing? Sadness bleeds from his eyes a color of transparency. How does he speak? I understand this man is not me. He doesn't know what i know or think as i do[not that i have important thought]. I understand that. He lacks beauty. So what is the point? What is important to him?

My assumptions:

1. sex

2.woman

3. tennis in his tennis shoes with his tennis shirt for his tennis team at his college with tennis team mates that are tennis players half his age

4.his appearance- his mannerisms exude insecurity all while speaking with purpose

5.floating thoughts that never seem to lay from the lack of weight upon them

6.woman

7.TV

...................................................................................................................................

i woke next to saint a of mind.