Summer Idealism: a list.

Things I want: a reason to wear flowers, every day. picnics. a reason to get Dressed, and not just dressed. hand holding. someone I want to hold my hand. freshly laundered sheets. inspiration for anything. or rather, motivation. Peaches, lots and lots of delicious juicy peaches. I want to wear a peach toned dress with apricot lipstick on a wide front porch rocking chair. Late evening behind an afternoon thunderstorm. heavy air, warm and gentle weighty breeze. Golden sunset and green grass. red painted toes on the concrete as I bite, smell gardenias and peach fuzz, juice rolling down my chin. I want to live in technicolored fruit tones. . Summer .. Carnival lights in the night. an even tan and clear skin. a summer album. someone to share that album with. beach hair. echo-laughs, deep and hearty, catching. Someone, come have a summer with me.

some people aren't books, they're poems.

Seeking: Partner in crime. Get to know me. I think I'm a poem. Drink.drink.drink.

I always kinda sorta wished I was someone else.

Am I falling apart? No one ever tells you that stress is living and breathing, eating away inside, closing it's hands over your trachea, and then kicking it's way out. Am I falling apart? I am stagnant.

Dear Robin, I am pleased to announce that you have been accepted for enrollment....

"Okay" ?

what the fuck does that mean, "Okay" ?

not even an 'ok, alright, whatever', that's a condescending "okaaaay" with the upturned, "why are you even telling me this" question mark at the end

the tone I didn't expect to hit me so hard

that left me so shakingly angry i couldn't calm down

even after grinding my teeth, and the gutural screams in the car on the way to the restaurant

where the girl behind the counter concentrated on the lip of her neon green visor, and gave me a free brownie

to make up for the fact that she couldn't meet my rigid eyesockets with a complimentary smile.

I didn't know you could dissappoint me this much;

or that you had this much sway.

But seriously,

after years of wanting, work, applications, and scholarship bullshit

you can't say

"Congratulations"?

Most would try harder

for their oldest daughter.

I don't know why we're created, but I know that I know why I'm dying

I'm an emotional driver. Anger just brawls through my system like no other time in my life, through hands clenched around the steering wheel, down feet and to the pavement. rushing faster, faster, faster, until that maddening, raging, heavy slow stop that happens just too fast. stuck. behind an ancient wood paneled station wagon. or toes jammed on the breaks to keep my silver p.o.s. from demolishing the precious little shits in the back seat of the hideous forrest green minivan. seatbelt rubbing at my collarbone, ever so slightly. They don't know. that every time it's a struggle to keep from pressing down harder on the right pedal instead of releasing. that every time the break is just a little bit more difficult to hold down. that sometimes i just want to see what happens. if i let everything go. pedals under the lead foot of fate. so...bam. front bumper ravaging through the temporary tag of that brand new escalade. glass shattering. fumes leaking. metal bending. snap of the seatbelt, forehead through windsheild. music still playing. bam.

Where the sunshine slows

you know that feeling where that space between your collar bone and kidneys aches uncontrollably? deep where it can't be reached,

bettered, or worsened,

because it's right already. the feeling that's brought on by finical sights, sounds, songs, smells, phrases, tastes? memories like tobacco smoke downtown in December five o'clock sunlight through the trees on the back road or McDonalds coffee, late in a 24-hour superstore after feeling the autumn albums bass beats push the ache through the bones in your shoulders and down with adrenaline to dehydrated fingers that feeling knows why every listens to the same songs in the fall and why they're still only ours as they flood through tinny speakers and out open windows away with the air it drives, and sings, studies and pushes forward and backward

And nothing really changes but the weather, and the way people talk.

my brain is too FULL of NOTHING

mood swings, stress, and paranoia are killing my sanity

and i'm about ready to quit this

but i'm kept busy, and don't notice, most of the time

i'm just worried about what happens when i do

notice, that is

how can a head be so empty when it's "learning" so much?

176 days left