Today

is a perfect day,
to make perfect
chocolate chip cookies.


Why does that phrase and 
everything reminds me of the lyric:
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.

What a cliché thing to think, so often.
Cliché thoughts...even our minds are not free of our trite fears and insecurities. 


I miss making cookies. I used to make them all the time, and they brought so much joy!
But then I slowly stopped, and it's so hard
to get back to things you used to love.

This can't be good

Looking for a copy of "I hate myself and want to die"
Because I saw this and it made me laugh out loud.

I would say this is my theme song
but this song doesn't even make any sense.

Runny nose and runny yolk

Even if you have a cold still

You can cough on me again

I still haven't had my fulfill

In the someday what's that's sound? 

--

On that subject, that book, subtitle 52 most depressing songs,
the most disturbing song title's cover was Touch Me I'm Sick.
So much grunge hate!

I disagree because that song is so fucking great, plus
it makes me feel so good!
You can't hear this song and not feel good.

Maybe it's because I'm so fucked up?

God, Mudhoney. Why couldn't I see you when you came to Portland?
Me and Sus would have had such a great time.
I remember how heartbroken we were when we missed you.
Jeez. Everything I write is like a lovenote now.
I have stories to tell you about that, dear single reader.

I'm convinced

the secret to a perfect morning is waking up in a cold,
uncomfortable bed.

I fell asleep watching Twin Peaks in Omar's bed.
I woke up, I couldn't even stay in bed,
on the weekend.

But I knew my bed was hoarder status so I would have to clean it
if I moved there.
Comfort overtook laziness so I got out of bed.
My feet were freezing.

My hair looks awesome by the way.

That was sarcasm...I always look that intense in the morning, p.s.

I woke up wanting to do stuff.
Whenever I hear that term I think of Tom because of a story he told me about his dad,
when he was young he wrote about his future son,
"I hope my offspring inherits my want to do stuff attitude."
We both agreed he did.

Anyway, I did a revolutionary water saving rinse-my-mouth-with-my-Spock-cup-thing.
It would probably just confuse you.

I have to keep a water log for my Mercy corps internship, it makes me feel just great.
I'm pretty sure that bite of ke'sheyla's egg sandwich with egg on the side took all the water from the children in Niger. Damn it.

I really wanted to do one thing in specific but sometimes things seem really weird when you type them out, suffice it to say, I am a creep. (Cue Radiohead) Old news.
But the lovable kind? If there is a kind, I hope I'm there.

This morning I want to talk to you, have muffins, watercolor, find my Alice in Wonderland book, get my lens cap, get a haircut, maybe take a picture I need.

Hopefully I just stay in bed.

 

This picture is how I feel this morning.

P.S. I try to play that song every morning.

I want more

everything.

I want more pictures I want more love I want more friends I want more time I want more books I want more pairs of pants I want more talent I want more to say I want more art I want more paint I want more dreamy songs I want more pens to write with I want more dreams in the night and moments in a day I want more diners to go to I want more homes because I lost the one I had I want more things I want more ideas in my head I want more postcards I want more movies to have seen I want more intellect I want more good people in my life I want more pizza in my belly I want more people to add to my will and think about when I think about dying I want more seasons in the year I want more memories in my mind and promise in my future I want more socks I want more beautiful things, not bittersweet things I want more laughs in a day I want more people to wrap my arms around I want more fish to keep the oceans sound I want more people to make me feel like I should be alive I want more cameras I want more film I want more darkrooms I want more people to care I want more rain forests I want more surviving endangered species I want more trees to exist I want more children to live I want more of you, I want you to want more of me  I want more to love
to be loved.

To all the lost souls,

I was busy being sad and hating myself today but it's time for me to care about someone who cares about me. That's all there is, really; there are just other people to love.


You once said that all it took for you to make you happy was if I updated this blog. In your words,
"I will be the most direct and content mechanic/father/artist ever." 
Well, here you are.

Midnight Flight by Ryan McGinley

You are precious. If to no one in the world, than to me. There is no one like you and there will never be. Nothing in life is easy, this is the nature of life. You will always feel lost, all you need is someone to be there, a voice to find your way. I love you so much. Even you, stranger. Because we are like brothers, we are both lost souls.
We are all lost souls. We are all the searching, wandering, aimless children of the world. We need only reach our hands out and feel each other, longing for something more.


You are so loved. 

and, and, and

I feel so empty.
My camera, leaves a space
in my heart. Not like sinking,
like a hunger, that grows heavier-
an absence that doesn't allow me
the beauty in the world.
Any beauty.

I'm going to order film right now.

Why do I have to do anything
that I don't love?
I just want to photograph and paint and write
what I want
and die.

Let's live in Spain together.

--
Everything I write has line breaks now.
After so many IMs I can't help but separate
my thoughts, into lines. It's as if
I don't have enough breath
to think in regular form, I don't feel like I do
anymore. Or
like I'm always writing poetry, but what I write is
not beautiful.

Heaven is

Heaven is a bookstore you never have to leave, and you run into your favorite people over and over again. And strangers recommend books to you. Heaven lets you take any book, sit on the floor and read guilt free, open an account and never check out. Heaven is waiting for you with a velvet chair and a sign, that says everything you wanted to hear. Heaven is always warm, it is in the nook in the back you feel special in, because you are
special. Heaven is waiting for you, next to a chair for you to rest on, and a copy of your favorite
paperback book, the cup of your favorite drink, still hot. Just how you like it. Everything is perfect here.