Nov 2017
12/20/2017 12:00 am
It's December and I am learning that you can be strong and fragile at the same time. I'm also learning that there is a time and place for me to be literal, and a time and place for me to paint a picture of another day, another time, with words that I probably should just leave unsaid.
If, when you walk inside your front door and set your stuff on the ground you immediately feel the sweet release of a long day ending, does that mean you need to change something? or is that more to do with the way the world turns and the way we are used to operating? should we feel glad that it's all done?
If I spend my time feeling like I'm wasting it, does that cancel out the wasting, am I somehow making up for it? or does it mean I'm wasting it even more?
I wrote in a poem a couple years ago that I spent a lot of time asking the grass to grow for me, but it never did. I couldn't comprehend the fact that it didn't listen, ignored all my pleadings, but now it's December
and I'm learning that sometimes a metaphor can be very, very literal.
I'm also learning that words don't always do it.
I spent a long, long time begging that grass to grow, but it never did because it needed to be ******* watered.
Did I think it could hear me? Did I really think the words would make the grass sprout?
Sometimes you need to be held, kissed, taken care of with lips sealed shut. Sometimes words just don't do it. I promise you, I am learning as quick as I can.
I learned a few weeks ago that the Hawaiian alphabet only has twelve letters. Do you really think that is enough? How can they say anything they want to say?
Every language should have a word for love,
apples dipped in chamoy, the feeling in my stomach when
you're acting different with me, the perfect high, the moon when it's only a sliver, and the sun setting while we are buying cigarettes at a gas station and it look peaceful but I'm angry because nothing is ever good enough for me. Actually, there should just be a word for everything so that we never could feel alone.
Maybe instead of trying to get you to recite your ABC's to me I should learn to stop putting stuff into the universe that has no universe being in the universe.
I promise you, I'm learning as quick as I can.
It's December and I am learning that you can be strong and fragile at the same time. I'm also learning that there is a time and place for me to be literal, and a time and place for me to paint a picture of another day, another time, with words that I probably should just leave unsaid.
If, when you walk inside your front door and set your stuff on the ground you immediately feel the sweet release of a long day ending, does that mean you need to change something? or is that more to do with the way the world turns and the way we are used to operating? should we feel glad that it's all done?
If I spend my time feeling like I'm wasting it, does that cancel out the wasting, am I somehow making up for it? or does it mean I'm wasting it even more?
I wrote in a poem a couple years ago that I spent a lot of time asking the grass to grow for me, but it never did. I couldn't comprehend the fact that it didn't listen, ignored all my pleadings, but now it's December
and I'm learning that sometimes a metaphor can be very, very literal.
I'm also learning that words don't always do it.
I spent a long, long time begging that grass to grow, but it never did because it needed to be ******* watered.
Did I think it could hear me? Did I really think the words would make the grass sprout?
Sometimes you need to be held, kissed, taken care of with lips sealed shut. Sometimes words just don't do it. I promise you, I am learning as quick as I can.
I learned a few weeks ago that the Hawaiian alphabet only has twelve letters. Do you really think that is enough? How can they say anything they want to say?
Every language should have a word for love,
apples dipped in chamoy, the feeling in my stomach when
you're acting different with me, the perfect high, the moon when it's only a sliver, and the sun setting while we are buying cigarettes at a gas station and it look peaceful but I'm angry because nothing is ever good enough for me. Actually, there should just be a word for everything so that we never could feel alone.
Maybe instead of trying to get you to recite your ABC's to me I should learn to stop putting stuff into the universe that has no universe being in the universe.
I promise you, I'm learning as quick as I can.
