matamoras

8 weeks until graduation and counting........I got another tattoo. I'm done, I'm done for a while. I got my nostril re-pierced again. Slow Friday night, cup of tea, pile of poetry, some movies.

11 weeks and counting....off to eat a tiny sliver of b-day cake.

Sometimes I wake up and I don't know who you are. Really. You have this past with these friends I don't know and I think you are the one in the disguise.

12 weeks to graduation.
It's all downhill from here.
I have got to make it.
I'm going to slink down and become a little less prolific while I ride this out until the...
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Something terrible happens when you reconnect with people - you remember why you disconnected in the first place. Maybe some of them are arrogant and pretentious. Maybe some of them are lackluster. Maybe others remind you of your own shortcoming and the personal sell-outs. Whatever it is, the act of reconnecting is bittersweet. Remember, people part for a reason. There's a reason phone calls and...
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My hair is white blonde now. That's all I got.

Don't steal my words man. Don't steal my words. Not cool.

I can count the number of people I trust on one hand. Deception through omission is lying.
Depeption through omission is lying.
Tell someone everything. Tell them the mundane details of your life and spill every other emotion but leave out other details and you are lying. Deception through omission is lying and I don't trust liars. I don't sit on a high horse. I've...
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I'm on myspace now. If you're on it. Lemme know.

What if you ask to know it all and you don't like it? What if you want to know it and you aren't moved? What then?

This week was absolutely disatrous as I spent Monday night in the emergency room fretting over a loved one. When the doctor asks to see you, it's never good. But it got better, got tolerable and now we wait...
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There was a time when I lived with a dusty stolen beige dictionary and a yellow thesaurus next to me. There was even a desk I believed, though I rarely remember using it. There were pens, a typewriter named Erika, and a canister of pencils. I used to write. Everyday. Every second. That is what I did and I was not happy. I was melancholy...
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So my brother-in-law wants us to go see some cover band tonight. That'll suck I'm sure as his taste in music is terrible. It is so beautiful out side and I had a coupon for a free cup of coffee so I went out and got one. God I love Saturday mornings when it's sunny and warm and I have nothing to do. About three...
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She is so beautiful.
Frighteningly cold.
11000 miracles happened here, the plaque says.
She steps back from the fountain and peers
at the copper coins in her pale palm.
She is here
for an indeterminable amount of time.