smoothing away the creases of today ((one sip at a time))
the air grows colder but i have someone to sleep next to. the apartment has a bit of each of us in every corner: i've put up flowy, pretty things and bought candles and incense; tyler and jake decided that without a silverware drawer the only way to keep track of the knives would be to stab them into the kitchen ceiling, a knight in armor that needs dusting from a deceased woman's basement oversees the living room and keeps an eye on jake's bong, and the baby piece, my little pip. the cupboards have infinite boxes of macaroni and cheese which they insist on making even though there's some healthy whole wheat pasta with vegetables in the fridge. which is on too high of a setting and freezes things, like the milk. and lacks important things, like lettuce and apples. but whose staples include pabst, white zinfandel, and $1/gallon fruit drink; the kind dave chapelle talks about in one of his ghetto skits.
you can tell a girl lives here but also that she is outnumbered; her record player and astrology books in the corner lay neatly stacked, diagonal from a bmx bike, ps2, and a heap of chords and wires. it smells often of lavender and vanilla and weed, because i think that's how the world should smell, but when a lot of people are over it reeks of cigarettes and beer. tyler jake and i brought enough things from our own homes into the new one which we share together. a Nantucket flag hangs in the kitchen, as does a tupac poster, and a flower Tony O brought as a housewarming gift rests in a vase i made by painting my empty red stripe pint bottle, a 'bout it sweatshirt is draped over one of the barstools. i like making the boys beds and doing their laundry, taking care of them almost in a motherly way but not. i like making them tea when they're sick and having coffee ready for the morning; just doing the dishes by hand every day gets pretty old. but if i'm high enough and am listening to good music , it goes by fast. i'm not going to tell my mother that the boys saw a mouse and that we're getting a kiiten to take care of that problem :], or that there was a drive-by down the block last week, or ... well, a lot of things.
the street gets wicked loud in the morning; i'm usually awake by 9:00.
sir jake
living room
jakes faces :]
stop crying!
oh god! who knew you could put a sliggarette in the micro and it would light up there for ya?
cute
kisses :]
we raved for a couple minutes
but then we got wick ti.
night dad
a curious thought struck me as i waited at the t stop for a train that would bring me to the library yesterday. a girl maybe my age approached the stop as well, her outfit in accordance with the latest trends and she WuZ LyKe So FAsHiOnAbLe! She stood up straight and tall, a little taller because of the heel on her boots, and extracted a pink razor from her cute purse that ToTAlLy MaTcheD her sweater. Text text texting away to BFF or BF, (well honestly idk. but probably), she just made me wonder. about the media. and its effects on society. i wasn't trying to judge this girl at all. i was just thinking about why she was wearing what she was. i understand that some girls are just really into fashion and it's what they like, and that is all that matters. okay, cool. great. sick. but girls who keep up with trends and the latest styles...shut the fuck up! keep up with yourself! like seriously
. i just can't comprehend why that could possibly be important to someone. not even just that. like, if hollywood and mtv weren't telling you that straight leg pants with boots is cool, or anyone else for that matter, what would you be wearing? if we as people remained unexposed to the media, i just think we would be real people, individuals, instead of carbon copies of each other. i also am a product of the media; i'm not pretending that i'm some highly evolved and completely individual person. i'm just saying. like, i don't watch gay shit on tv. ever. for the most part i wish tv didn't exist. even though the discovery channel is wicked cool, and the history...it's good when you can learn something. it's not even tv that really gets to me as do the commercials and mostly mindless advertising. i don't want to see that shit. i really don't. and maybe you do. and that's fine. i just...am looking for more.
and now i am riding
all over this island
just waiting for something
to open my eyes
thinking about indigenous people and the way they are brought up; isolated, integral with nature...of course, they have established their own societal norms from which some may branch off and deviate while others strictly adhere; and in the way that americans can follow each others ideas, they, too, may...but when i went to the library i read about all these tribes that still survive today and i just think that those people, who are really spiritual and away from all the gay shit (ugg boots, paris hilton, unintelligent rap, and mtv shows) are actual people. they have their own identity.
idk man.
scribbled on the green line
he'd said it before and i've known forever
since before we even went to dever.
i wonder exactly when it began
'cause i'm not sure when i started loving him.
he remembers the first time we ever did kiss,
which till he said it, my mind had missed-
it's so cute that he remembers every detail
it makes my cheeks flush when usually they're pale.
underground now i loom forward with the train
my ambition to do anything has rather been slain,
as it matters not much to me, wherever i go
i'm just wondering what i'll learn that i've yet to know.
entering copley, doors will open on the right
i've been here before, it's a familiar sight/site.
train, won't you take me somewhere i never have been
so that i might explore and say that i have lived.
i could take the silver to logan and watch planes become part of the sky
oblivious to waves, salt water and the tide;
to which i seem to always be swaying,
in tune with the moon regardless of what anyone's saying.
these blue eyes have seen this coast and the west's
through summer sands and autumn vests.
i can't tell too much which is best..
i need both the sunrise and the sunset.
'tis true that i'd rather be san francisco
tis also true that it's my friends i'd miss though.
park street. why not? smoke some pot in the park.
summer's gone, i can feel it now
there's crisp air instead of beads of sweat on my brow-
i was holding on to something that had already passed
hoping, somehow, i'd draw it out, make it last.
schedules it seems, decimate my dreams
i like when time's irrelevant and i can be free.
it can't be prevented that my sense of direction
sways from what may have been my original intention
i always get lost but find my way home
it'd be nice if you were with me, but i can be alone.
i can be alone, yeah, i can watch a sunset
on my own, i can be alone yeah, i can watch a sunet on my own
, i can be alone, i can watch a sunset on my own
well, it's been one hell of an almost-month. nick o and robbie live down the street with tyler and jake's friends; it's cool that we get to chill whenever we want to.
also we have an old fashioned claw-foot tub that i take baths in by candlelight every other day.
i've already got some boston scars to help me remember what i otherwise wouldn't- falling off my bike in the middle of the street at night, attempting&failing a piggyback with emily...
basically we've just been having fun, trying to avoid the 5-0 as much as possible, it is kinda working..idk this entry is too long i'm leaving bye
p.s. we have a kitten named abbey she's wicked cute but kinda gay
you can tell a girl lives here but also that she is outnumbered; her record player and astrology books in the corner lay neatly stacked, diagonal from a bmx bike, ps2, and a heap of chords and wires. it smells often of lavender and vanilla and weed, because i think that's how the world should smell, but when a lot of people are over it reeks of cigarettes and beer. tyler jake and i brought enough things from our own homes into the new one which we share together. a Nantucket flag hangs in the kitchen, as does a tupac poster, and a flower Tony O brought as a housewarming gift rests in a vase i made by painting my empty red stripe pint bottle, a 'bout it sweatshirt is draped over one of the barstools. i like making the boys beds and doing their laundry, taking care of them almost in a motherly way but not. i like making them tea when they're sick and having coffee ready for the morning; just doing the dishes by hand every day gets pretty old. but if i'm high enough and am listening to good music , it goes by fast. i'm not going to tell my mother that the boys saw a mouse and that we're getting a kiiten to take care of that problem :], or that there was a drive-by down the block last week, or ... well, a lot of things.
the street gets wicked loud in the morning; i'm usually awake by 9:00.
sir jake
living room
jakes faces :]
stop crying!
oh god! who knew you could put a sliggarette in the micro and it would light up there for ya?
cute
kisses :]
we raved for a couple minutes
but then we got wick ti.
night dad
a curious thought struck me as i waited at the t stop for a train that would bring me to the library yesterday. a girl maybe my age approached the stop as well, her outfit in accordance with the latest trends and she WuZ LyKe So FAsHiOnAbLe! She stood up straight and tall, a little taller because of the heel on her boots, and extracted a pink razor from her cute purse that ToTAlLy MaTcheD her sweater. Text text texting away to BFF or BF, (well honestly idk. but probably), she just made me wonder. about the media. and its effects on society. i wasn't trying to judge this girl at all. i was just thinking about why she was wearing what she was. i understand that some girls are just really into fashion and it's what they like, and that is all that matters. okay, cool. great. sick. but girls who keep up with trends and the latest styles...shut the fuck up! keep up with yourself! like seriously
. i just can't comprehend why that could possibly be important to someone. not even just that. like, if hollywood and mtv weren't telling you that straight leg pants with boots is cool, or anyone else for that matter, what would you be wearing? if we as people remained unexposed to the media, i just think we would be real people, individuals, instead of carbon copies of each other. i also am a product of the media; i'm not pretending that i'm some highly evolved and completely individual person. i'm just saying. like, i don't watch gay shit on tv. ever. for the most part i wish tv didn't exist. even though the discovery channel is wicked cool, and the history...it's good when you can learn something. it's not even tv that really gets to me as do the commercials and mostly mindless advertising. i don't want to see that shit. i really don't. and maybe you do. and that's fine. i just...am looking for more.
and now i am riding
all over this island
just waiting for something
to open my eyes
thinking about indigenous people and the way they are brought up; isolated, integral with nature...of course, they have established their own societal norms from which some may branch off and deviate while others strictly adhere; and in the way that americans can follow each others ideas, they, too, may...but when i went to the library i read about all these tribes that still survive today and i just think that those people, who are really spiritual and away from all the gay shit (ugg boots, paris hilton, unintelligent rap, and mtv shows) are actual people. they have their own identity.
idk man.
scribbled on the green line
he'd said it before and i've known forever
since before we even went to dever.
i wonder exactly when it began
'cause i'm not sure when i started loving him.
he remembers the first time we ever did kiss,
which till he said it, my mind had missed-
it's so cute that he remembers every detail
it makes my cheeks flush when usually they're pale.
underground now i loom forward with the train
my ambition to do anything has rather been slain,
as it matters not much to me, wherever i go
i'm just wondering what i'll learn that i've yet to know.
entering copley, doors will open on the right
i've been here before, it's a familiar sight/site.
train, won't you take me somewhere i never have been
so that i might explore and say that i have lived.
i could take the silver to logan and watch planes become part of the sky
oblivious to waves, salt water and the tide;
to which i seem to always be swaying,
in tune with the moon regardless of what anyone's saying.
these blue eyes have seen this coast and the west's
through summer sands and autumn vests.
i can't tell too much which is best..
i need both the sunrise and the sunset.
'tis true that i'd rather be san francisco
tis also true that it's my friends i'd miss though.
park street. why not? smoke some pot in the park.
summer's gone, i can feel it now
there's crisp air instead of beads of sweat on my brow-
i was holding on to something that had already passed
hoping, somehow, i'd draw it out, make it last.
schedules it seems, decimate my dreams
i like when time's irrelevant and i can be free.
it can't be prevented that my sense of direction
sways from what may have been my original intention
i always get lost but find my way home
it'd be nice if you were with me, but i can be alone.
i can be alone, yeah, i can watch a sunset
on my own, i can be alone yeah, i can watch a sunet on my own
, i can be alone, i can watch a sunset on my own
well, it's been one hell of an almost-month. nick o and robbie live down the street with tyler and jake's friends; it's cool that we get to chill whenever we want to.
also we have an old fashioned claw-foot tub that i take baths in by candlelight every other day.
i've already got some boston scars to help me remember what i otherwise wouldn't- falling off my bike in the middle of the street at night, attempting&failing a piggyback with emily...
basically we've just been having fun, trying to avoid the 5-0 as much as possible, it is kinda working..idk this entry is too long i'm leaving bye
p.s. we have a kitten named abbey she's wicked cute but kinda gay