saturn1

i've been craving red meat, cigarettes and whiskey like a motherbitch. shared a cigarette with a friend last night, luckily it tasted like an ashtray. & luckily i am afraid of puking if i try to eat any meat. because i usually have in the past. but damn i want a steak and some bacon. & really, i don't want to get in a fight. because i seem to always try, even if i don't, when i've ingested whiskey or a derivative.

saw saul williams on easter. fucking excellent. i always almost cry when i see him live. or sometimes even when i hear him not live. 75% of the time he makes me think of my grandmother. i can't shake the legacy that woman left.

& friends passing birthday made me think of him. i don't know if he's a friend anymore. he's certainly not an enemy. i guess we just grew apart. he's the only thing that really gets me to write anymore. i always sort of hated writing but i used to do it when i was little in a really compulsive way. like i had to puke all the shit words out. i don't know why it's just him, we don't speak and i feel stronger passion for other things & people. who knows. strange week ~

i have your dirty fist down three fourths of my throat.
there's something about the way you smile that makes it sort of ok.
all i can really say is that i've always had a weakness for broken, heartless things.

i'm unhappy and i can't tell you exactly why. but then, i'm also happy and i cant tell you exactly why. a shot in the dark, all of it. i dont know how the fuck any of it happens, it just does. everything gets done. & the constant cleaning up afterward. cleaning, cleaning, always cleaning.

i can see you clearly
youre laughing and i dont know what to do
its times like these that i feel like I couldnt know you any better than this. if i werent thinking about you id be looking at you and youd be nodding and motioning for me to come and sit next to you because youre more aware than i am about exactly how alike we are.
but instead im staring at the wall wondering why i do this to myself. i want a cigarette.

youve never wanted to me around me for extended periods of time. its hard to be around someone who thinks too much when youre trying to make yourself stupid. hey, you said it.

this time i left and i didnt look at you asleep. just got up and put my shoes on. slapped you a couple times on the neck to try to wake you but by now i know its useless.
its funny, it used to matter to me that i heard you say good-bye or even that i got to kiss you on the cheek while you were asleep. time changes so many things. now, i just leave. i know you too well to try to change things that i know time will never change.
throw the covers over you. i know its hot but i dont want anyone to find you like this. naked and vulnerable. i've always had a weakness for broken, scared little things.

if i were staying id leave them off. its all selfish. you kick them off as soon as i leave. i know this because of my constant forgetting. Car keys, coat, cigarettes. Things i cant leave without.

i dont know if i want to look at you sleeping or if i dont care anymore. theres sometimes a moment, a second, when it matters again. not often. things just run together lately. Sometimes im scared that everything will run together more and more and more and more and more and not stop and it all will turn into a big train-blur. things used to be so vivid, it seems like every experience and every year dulls and blurs just a little bit more. is that a choice or does it just happen? id like to think it's a choice. But things i think are choices never are and later, like really later, i realize things i thought were strict were really choices and i just passed up the chance trying to choose on things i have no control over. ~


i'm leaving may 15. with mr. fancyperson. stopping in places i never took the time to explore. then i will be somewhere new & i'm glad that there's always new places to go and a home to come back to if the new places aren't all that new upon inspection.