I Really Like Backs

Thank You Drew

"Sometimes you see another person -- perhaps just crossing the street in front of your car at a stoplight -- and for a moment your entire being is focused on that human being; that person's history; their nature- the possibilities seem endless, but then the light changes and they are gone forever."

- Jimmy Webb
Acclaimed composer/songwriter/producer

super sweet. super. sad.

. -Picasso

O Bennington, O Bennington

One college essay I wrote was about metaphors: show that you can be a master of metaphor. I decided to write my thoughts about a multimedia movie I made which combines the song "Street Spirit" by Radiohead with 21 Picasso paintings. I wrote and wrote and wrote and inked over 90% of what I wrote. It took a week, and this is what I found.

Lines are too complicated for me to decipher. Something is missing from the empty spaces, and I contemplate. I am in love with faces in empty rooms. I am in love with every angle of every arm.

Looking into the mirror pulls me through into my eyes, more real than anything else I can see. I zoom into the tiny spaces in my mind. I open my eyes until everything falls in.

I'm worried because the colors are being sucked away. Wiped away by our touch, the whiteness pours from our eyes in streams. They are charcoal tears we can taste. I wonder why people are pale, with empty glass eyes. They disconnect and slowly wash away.

Then I remember the color. Red red! Fireworks through the shocking air on my corner at night, under dim street lamps that pierce the icy space. I breathe mint in crisp cold channels. Every finger trembles. I pull back and look away, then resolve myself and push forward.

My lungs are bellows full of dust. My abdomen is hit with a sack of flour. An earthquake rumbles through the back of my neck. I fall asleep and dream fitfully. Ears are seashells, faces are screaming clay. Looking at things, they start to breathe.

I want someone else to see the fireworks in my mind before I die. I need red and green and blue soaking through my retina. Dotted sticks and lines make planes with which we hold each other.

Jezebel is WAY better than this.

Ugh, I'm so TIRED of working on college applications. I have a lot of homework to do, and this is completely frustrating and lame, especially when you're trying to describe what you do in a day, and it bores you to death. My life is severely interesting because I am surrounded with severely interesting people.. I'm trying to convey what I feel about things but all I see is " I I I ".. and that is boring. The more I think about how bored I am the wordier my sentences get. Poetry is stifled. Trapped emotions run amok in poorly conjugated sentences. Elephants of loathing trample my brain. Why oh why did I wait until this late date to work on this essay?? My soul is withering.

It's sad when I look around at things I make, and friends, and acquaintances, and clothing, and music, and I think HOW interesting. I'm watching thousands of ideas every day but I don't feel a part of them anymore. Most of the things I've done that I like I did five months ago, so I'm sitting around viewing my surroundings like an old diary page. I'm not that person anymore. I want to be exciting. But blah blah blah instead I talk about myself in the past participle all night long.

celly!

www.toothpastefordinner.com

"on the verge of becoming someone interesting"

Hey. Long time no see.

I don't have much time right now.. I'm going to go shuffle papers at the hospital soon. I've been listening to Nikaido Kizumi, she's reeeeally good, thanks Lucas :) Maria loved her, too. Maria's gone and I miss her terribly. I can't believe I put her on that train back to Washington, it's positively awful. I've been ODing on Radiohead and Nick Drake for the past few days.. reading books, doing yoga, generally being lonely and bored.

Sigh. My brain is too complicated right now, that's why I'm drawing again.