Time zones away from who I was the day before we met
I wish I was a photograph
tucked into the corners of your wallet
I wish I was a photograph
you carried like a future in your pocket
I wish I was that face you show to strangers
when they ask you where you come from
I wish I was that someone that you come from
every time you get there
and when you get there
I wish I was that someone who got phone calls
and postcards saying
wish you were here
I wish you were here
autumn is the hardest season
the leaves are all falling
and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground
and the trees are naked and lonely
I keep trying to tell them
new leaves will come around in the spring
but you can’t tell trees those things
they’re like me they just stand there
and don’t listen
I wish you were here
I’ve been missing you like crazy
I’ve been hazy eyed
staring at the bottom of my glass again
thinking of that time when it was so full
it was like we were tapping the moon for moonshine
or sticking straws into the center of the sun
and sipping like icarus would forever kiss
the bullets from our guns
I never meant to fire you know
I know you never meant to fire lover
I know we never meant to hurt each other
now the sky clicks from black to blue
and dusk looks like a bruise
I’ve been wrapping one night stands
around my body like wedding bands
but none of them fit in the morning
they just slip off my fingers and slip out the door
and all that lingers is the scent of you
I once swore if I threw that scent into a wishing well
all the wishes in the world would come true
do you remember
do you remember the night I told you
I’ve never seen anything more perfect than
than snow falling in the glow of a street light
electricity bowing to nature
mind bowing to heartbeat
this is gonna hurt bowing to I love you
I still love you like moons love the planets they circle around
like children love recess bells
I still hear the sound of you
and think of playgrounds
where outcasts who stutter
beneath braces and bruises and acne
are finally learning that their rich handsome bullies
are never gonna grow up to be happy
I think of happy when I think of you
so wherever you are I hope you’re happy
I really do
I hope the stars are kissing your cheeks tonight
I hope you finally found a way to quit smoking
I hope your lungs are open and breathing your life
I hope there’s a kite in your hand
that’s flying all the way up to orion
and you still got a thousand yards of string to let out
I hope you’re smiling
like god is pulling at the corners of your mouth
cause I might be naked and lonely
shaking branches for bones
but I’m still time zones away
from who I was the day before we met
you were the first mile
where my heart broke a sweat
and I wish you were here
I wish you’d never left
but mostly I wish you well
I wish you my very very best
-Andrea Gibson, “Photograph”
Kurt Cobain
“To be positive at all times is to ignore all that is important, sacred or valuable. To be negative at all times is to be threatened by ridiculousness and instant discredibility.”
-Kurt Cobain
The truth speaks from a peaceful place.
(And sometimes that place is Dexter.)
Yurts
New addition to my list of things I want to do before I die: spend a month living in a yurt.
Film: Catfish
Last night, I watched Catfish with my dad. It’s a documentary…and I guess I’m not going to try to explain what it’s about because I don’t think I could do it properly. However, it was well done..and is making me ask some hard questions.
For instance, what are you supposed to do if you find yourself in a place, a situation where it seems like you’ve lost yourself? In which all of the things you used to be, used to love, used to dream, are gone?
Anyway, it’s definitely worth watching. (Yeah, this probably shouldn’t qualify as an actual post. Whatever, fuck it.)
One Art
These last few weeks here before spring break are rough for me. For a lot of people, I guess, I just feel like I don’t have anyone to whine about it to. Missing my family so much. Haven’t been home in a long time, and being home seems to reset my mind, a weight I don’t realize I’m carrying until it’s gone slips from my shoulders when I walk through the door.
—
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. --Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. --Elizabeth Bishop
Fractions
So this is what I’ve got so far.
I think that the people that you really love, who have touched you, always stay with you. I think love like that doesn’t really die. Even though you and the other person may change and you aren’t “in love” anymore, a part of you still holds on to that love and the experiences you had together.
At least, that’s how my head and heart seem to work–the couple of individuals who I have had the privilege to love are still with me. They made me want to be a better person, and that kind of thing changes you irreversibly. Some days I feel so acutely the loss of that kind of love that it hurts to breathe, but other days I am grateful simply to have experienced it at all, and I am peaceful.
I am peaceful.
Letting go
…is something I really suck at.
And these fucking dreams about skating and about Garrett are really not helping.
Experiences
Mushrooms and Planet Earth/Blue Planet DVDs: what a way to turn a boring old Sunday into an exceptional one…
