enfin's reality

the lighter died.

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tandem bikes listen to that by the LK.

here i am. in north carolina. for the first time. ever. unless a trip to the charlotte airport counts, although, i highly doubt that it truly does.  yesterday was a long day of travel, tons of delays and bumpy skies and busy roads. but all in all, i got to durham/chapel hill an hour later than expected, in one piece.  M was at her trackmeet, but i didn’t see her throw because i was late. late. late. i suppose that should have been assumed in the first place, but what is done, is done. chick-fil-a (still can’t get over the spelling… i suppose new englanders want to add that filet in instead of the fil-a…) filled our stomachs, and i slept a good sleep, all until i was woke up early this morning to visit DA. it was a school, and that was my very impression. my only impression too. sure schools tend to differ in material, but all have the same sense of an educational establishment which one becomes familiarized with over the course of their 13 years in public edu. or private, or what have you. anyway, i read outside for sometime- something i rarely have the chance to do in maine, and that made me happy. then we ventured to a thai cafe and to m’s infamous lo-yo and we had a superb time talking. all this “update” writing is making me feel out of place. seeing as i’m currently reading catcher in the rye for the thousandth time, i feel like holden, and i am viewing everything as “phony”. its unfortunate, yeah? anyway…

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o, how i’d love a party like the above. summertime is approaching! m, annie, and i will drive to the coast and eat strawberries and blackberries, and dance to k’naan and tunng and all the good summer music.  we’ll eat oranges and sip tea on the maine state pier at 5am, and we’ll build forts and go on bike rides, and take many many photos. i’m really counting on the upcoming season of liberty to be the best one yet- seeing as last year’s sucked so bad. see my nice inclusion of slang? anyway, ive sent out good energy to the deities of summer to ensure that the three of us have the best vacation of our lives thus far. parties, and friends (if we need them) and lunches and brunches and movies and music all the way.

oh hi enfin, you are as BA as its been rumored.

memoria teneo, as i have mentioned in a previous post, did in fact happen- hence the proof, first of two photos. the second, is a quaint little rue en quebec, where i found this market that four young boys in their 20s with lots of tattoos and gauges worked in. they sold me a baguette and i played fetch with their golden retriever for a brief moment until i ran up the road to get a good shot of the chateau on my trusty ricoh. i miss quebec, but i like the south too! we’re planning an allnighter (which i can say is overdue) and a fortification and perhaps a picnic and a trip to some of m’s most mentionable places en durham/c.hill/raleigh or i think i will refer to current location as RDU just like their airport. it will be nice to visit cambridge on sunday however, i haven’t visited since… february? i don’t recall any travels in march, however, it is entirely possible. a mixed tape is coming when i get back in the 617 or 207, depending on my mood and how i budget my time. i’m switching between, the crying of lot 49, V, How to Write Compelling Fiction- which i must add is quite delicious- and catcher in the rye (boring).

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stupid couple is so stupidly cute.

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i’m so happy that the spring has finally graced us.

enfinoui

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enfin's reality

pynchon


lady stole my dream outfit.

do you ever get bothered by something you probably shouldn’t be bothered by? for example, this is completely hypothetical mind you, yer best friend seems to have this deep intense enjoyment of pretending to be you and pretending to live yer life? well, i get bothered by things like that quite easily. and i just did.

i’m reading gravity’s rainbow by pynchon. it’s quite good thus far, and i’m trying to savour it rather than eat right through it. last evening was so boring. i should have gone to coyle street or to space even though that’s where the hipsters go.  deertick played at space, and story played at coyle street. its unfortunate that i was too lazy to hop on ethel and ride to one of those venues. lately i’ve been feeling like i’m sans friends, which is kind of, in an odd way, refreshing. i don’t have any obligation to turn on my phone, nor do i have any obligation to log on to the f-word (facebook).  canada is in five days, which makes me pretty damn excited. other than that, my week promises to be busy. i don’t exactly want to go play tennis, but i know that i have to thus I must.  i really hate people who try to be someone they’re not.  in addition to that, i hate friends who go through other friends to get what they want and pretend they’re someone they’re not. someone who has observed the same type of behavior told me not to mind it, saying that it was a form of flattery. bullshit. i don’t care about flattery, i never have. all i know right now is that i’m in for a long day. whether or not that’s a bueno thing… we’ll see in 12 hours.  which in reality is not a long time. time. another thing i’d love to speak about. we’re racing against time, whether we define time as the moments that have passed, or the moments until the end, everyone, in one way or another, is racing against time. i wish we could just forget it, seeing as a million years ago it didn’t exist. stupid marilyn kept me up all evening, with her legs swinging and hands ticking. mocking my very existence in a way.  just to stay organized, because i check this more than i check my calender, below i’m listing my next month, so feel free to bypass it. thanks.

april 9th, 10th, 11th: quebec
april 14th through the 18th: north carolina
april 18th through the 20th: cambridge/boston
april 23rd: 70s dance party at SPACE
april 24th: low anthem & timber timbre at SPACE
may 4th: vinyl fair at Port City Music Hall

i’m ready for the highlights, i don’t know about the lowlights.

n’ameen.
oh and a mixed tape will appear shortly, within the next three days.

enfinoui (no love today)

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enfin's reality

its always rainy in portland

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hey-o. stupid its always sunny in philadelphia… i miss my days of avid tv watching. anyway, wednesday is over in 2o minutes- such a beautiful thing if you ask me. two days left of this wretched school week. and yes, i can survive it thank you, but tomorrow evening will be hellish, seeing as i have to finish the sound and the fury. stupid faulkner, why did you have to write in a manner that i do not care for? huh? huh? okay. well yes.. i don’t know either.  i’m a bit nervous because i had to email the ink-shop about changing my appointment to a later time, and i really want them to be accomodating and all “yes of course, 2:30 is wonderful!” in addition to that, i’m having problems with my yashica and batteries and making a hold.  anyone who knows how to do that, please inform me immediately.  gratitude will come later.

for the past, 24hours? i’ve been working on a collaborative with my friend danger, entitled, kale and radishes.  it’s turning out lovely, and it will be posted when we finish (the non-existing god knows when that will be…).  i traveled to brunswick today- scored a few pieces of vinyl, and a nice large coffee, which was an interlude to all the other cups of coffee i drank today. tea will be my drink of choice tomorrow, or i will reek of permanent coffee stench.

this summer i have an itch to go scrumping.  do you think i should scrump with M, or A? hm. in the comfort of my home this evening i bake a lemon basil cake.  it turned out edible to say the least, if not delicious.  and i also made my marinara sauce.  i still have a case of cooking blues (which is contradictory) how do you like my antilogy? but yes. tomorrow… i have to work. but that means money for quebec.  and also norms later in the evening (i need camraderie ASAP). friday is similar to tomorrow, classes, working, artwalk (with my rollerderby bud) and then saturday i have a vintage sale to attend, some work to do, and beautiful bela’s birthday to celebrate.  sunday is easter, which i will be enjoying with family members at Local 188.  also with glasses of pinot noir later in the evening.  i’d like to take ethel out this week too, seeing as the weather is looking promising tomorrow onward.  i believe i should curl up in my bed now. because im starting to mash thoughts and i don’t want STOC to appear in my entry.  FICTION IS COMING. I PROMISE. i will work on it at some point tomorrow.  (bio?hist?art?)

enfinlove

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enfin's reality, Uncategorized

guess i’ll see you in hell

i know my shenanigans never interest you guys, but at the moment, my story is on a brief hiatus, seeing as…my mind isn’t working as i wish it would.  so i’ll probably post a poem in a bit.  but for now, some inspirations and a few updates.

one: second day in a row where our bio teacher is out! i rushed to hell, overwhelmed to get my notes printed on time… come to find out, he’s not here, so i suppose that’s a relief.  two: i hate st. patrick’s day, oh so much.  the people who celebrate it are obnoxious and immature.  they’ve just turned the day into an excuse to get completely smashed and blame it on their culture- although all the irish people i know, and keep in mind that I am in fact, Irish, are not irresponsible when consuming ample amounts of alcohol.  not to say it isn’t fun for a bit, but in all truth, it’s amateur night.  three: thankfully this week is going by quicker than originally expected.  i fixed my bike ehtel up yesterday and we went for a ride, then the day prior i went on a picnic with chinese food on the west end and sketched in charcoal.  the weather is utterly delicious- 60s everyday.  this morning i began to panic because i thought i heard the pitter patter of rain falling on my windowsill.  thankfully it was just the sound of white noise, and the sun greeted me ever so kindly.  four: i need to avoid the music that i’ve been listening to lately, ie: misfits, joan jett, and braid.  however much i do care for punk, i don’t care enough to have it dictate my life, danke! five: i am more broke than a broker, (instantrimshot.com) no really! i haven’t been able to work all week.  i have 3 dollars to my name which will have disappeared by the end of today.

hello inspirations, you warm my little beater (heart) on a lovely thursday like today!


oh lovely, andy and edie


and just edie!

as far as dreams go, last evening’s were particularly lucid.  and they were nightmares.  first dream was basically a parody off of night of the living dead, which i didn’t really mind being in my dream, but i was a zombie…so i had little part in my own dream.  i had to watch this bitch from school get the role of barbara (not that i’d want to be barbara, but still) and it just was pathetic.  dream two: i was sitting on the couch in my piercer’s shop, and he came out and told me to come out back, so i did, i was planning on getting another stud in my nose, but when i got back, he wanted me to play this horrendous video game which involved shooting vietnamese people and then whenever you did a cat would pop out of the TV.  third nightmare, i was on the telephone with this very delicious thai restaurant (Veranda Thai) and everything I ordered they said they couldn’t make.  then a delivery boy came to my door and stabbed me in the stomach.  the walls were morphing into sky, and my vision changed from colored to sepia.  i had two people in my house who turned into animated characters, and my cats, trout and sassy, turned into these ferocious beast, tiger-like fierce felines, who knocked over a cooler filled with PBR and Cranberry juice. Oh man, i don’t know what was goin’ on with my head last evening.

i plan on biking around and taking pictures and sketching if the afternoon allows it.

im feeling: sleepy but refreshed, a bit on edge from the night terrors, the writer’s itch, Das Weiße Band, the weather is in my favour, looking for a big cup of caffine to soothe this tormenting headache of mine.

enfinlove

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Uncategorized, writing

here is the church & here is the steeple

nervously descending the steps i wonder if anyone is watching me.  my steps, a bit intoxicated from the four sam adams consumed a mere thirty minutes before, my head, a bit foggier than usual, mon rythm cardiaque accelerating at the sight of a dark figure waiting in front of the door.  my left arm, covered in a tattoo of a map of the arctic circle, extends to meet the handle of the steel door.  a rush of wind greets me with hospitality and the dark figure turns to meet my gaze.  his hood is pulled up over his head, his eyes, behind those fogged glasses, are indeed, dialated, his throat is parched, and his ears are beet red.  he puts his  left hand on the face of the door and motions with his right hand for me to exit first.  my body obliges, but my eyes remain, intent, on his mysterious visage.  his eyes, follow mine, and a smile creeps to the edges of his face.  no such thing appears on my face, but my soul is warmed by this small gesture.  i begin to walk up the hill to the main road, but my head is still turned back, facing the stranger.  after a brief moment, his silhouette disappears into the building and my head is forced to look onward instead of behind. 

the streets are cold, iced over, abandonned.  the people are sporadically placed, and i, i am just a passerby.  my pace is swifter than normal, perhaps it was the decreasing temperature that fired my energy.  the street lights glowed with a sallow tint, and the stars were nowhere to be spotted.  as i found myself, moving uptown, past the bars, i passed by a group of young men all clad in sable.  their heads were homes to an array of thrifted hats- all of which looked miraculously warm.  each man had a cigarette in hand, and they were conversing amongst themselves.  with my presence however, their colloquies seemed to cease.  all eyes were on me, and i tried to speed up my pace.  i felt my skin flushing, but oh, not pink, my skin flushes even more paler than what most would think is humanly possible.  the last boy i passed blocked my pathway and smiled at me.  i averted eye contact the moment this happened.  hey sweetie, wanna cig? he prodded.  i nodded my head in a manner that was both timid but strong, and his friends pushed him slightly out of the way.  one even called after me a half-hearted apology for their ill-mannered drunken friend.  my walk continued to consume me.  by the time i reached the promenade, the traffic lights were blinking  with their carmine color.  my hands displayed little to no signs of life, and my hair was brittle and feeble.  my eyes glanced around my outdoor environment nervously and spastically.  i saw a bench and headed towards it. 

the bench laid beneath a tall street light, and it faced the wide and endless atlantic ocean.  as i sat on the weathered bench, mon ryhthm cardiaque, stabilized.  i fumbled through my pockets in search for a pack of cigarettes.  pulling out my roomates camel lights, i light one with a zippo that i acquired from working at an irish pub.  the lost and found always presented many treasures for me and my co-workers.  the night seemed to be at a stand-still, and the cars on the overpass, that could also be discerned from this consecrated bench, seemed to pass by at a snail’s pace.  my thoughts were empty, and my breathing was slow.  the world in front of me was simple enough to love, but also, simple enough to detest more than anything else one could imagine detesting.  minutes went by, even though they seemed like hours, and eventually, i wandered back into the real world.  i hear the shuffling of feet approaching from behind.  due to my skittish nature, i turn abruptly to see what challenge faces me tonight.  my eyes detect a lone boy, sporting a ripped black t-shirt with Albert Einstein’s image printed on its chest.  he has a cigarette to his lips, and his free hand remains in his pocket.  he looks incredibly chilled, but no wonder! his shirt barely covers his malnourished torso.  i see his eyes glance at me.  he stops a bit in his tracks, but continues onward.  the moments it takes him to make his way from the pine tree- which happens to be about 25 yards, to where i was sitting, i can’t quite recall, but that’s not the point.  as he passes by, an unknown force is ignited within me.  i leap up from my bench and call after him.

scuse me!

he looks around him, and then his eyes meet mine.  he stops where he is, and i saunter over to him with no idea what to say.

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big dreams

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my daily life was never anything exciting- in fact, it often lacked the events that would pose possible forms of enthrallment.  it was habitual and dull, like a shade of grey that can’t be related to anything but asylums and ominous clouds.  there wasn’t much that i did besides work, smoke my cigarettes, drink a few and then trek back to the home base and sleep for a few hours, just so i could repeat the same idleness the next morning.

working as a waitress took up most of my time.  i didn’t have the personality to be a hostess or even a bartender, but for some reason, i was working as a waitress, which i definitely didn’t have the personality for.  i didn’t care much for people, and often times i stormed off the floor to go downstairs into the basement and let out a scream.  the regular patrons knew that i was a loose cannon- but the truth of the matter is that i was not, in fact, a  loose canon, i just found it difficult to relate to the patrons who made it into Gretchen’s on a daily basis, and as far as the other patrons go, i almost found them harder to deal with than i found the regulars.  they didn’t know my personality and how i was classified as standoffish.  they often tried to make small talk with me, and all i could do was grimace and pretend to be interested.  i suppose the problem there was that, because i agreed with friederich nietzsche, i agreed that there were such things as lesser human beings, and i thought quite highly of myself- which is ironic, seeing as my career definitely did not convey that opinion.

after working a 10 hour day, i’d stay at gretchen’s and drink until my heart, or possibly my head, was satisfied, and then i’d stumble home, feed my two cats, who didn’t know me as anything but their feeder.  after feeding the felines, i’d go further inside of my home, and light up a bowl, relax a bit more, and then rest my head on my fold out couch.  all in all, the average person, would see me as a failure.  but deep down i wasn’t. i lacked the inspiration- even though i was convinced that i had it.

one day, while working, i took one of my six given smoking breaks in a shift, and was sitting outside underneath the radiant sunshine.  i was smoking my faithful american spirits and then an unknown silhouette sat beside me.  turning towards the mystery, my eyes were faced with a boy with curly black hair, a milky pearl complexion, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and a look of confusion plastered on his face.  his misfits t-shirt was ripped in multiple places, his jeans were tucked into a pair of doctor martens, and he was holding a pack of camel lights.  “got a light?” he questioned.

he obviously didn’t know me, and i surely didn’t know him, but i offered him my heirloom zippo in kindness.  he lit his cigarette and sighed deeply.  “thanks.” was all i heard.

my smoking breaks are always filled with peace & quiet, so the unorthodox interaction had sparked a string of events that would happen in the following fifteen minutes.  we sat in quiet for what seemed like forever, but was in fact, just about a minute or so, and then the silence was broken.  “work here?” he questioned without looking at me.

“yeah.” i responded, moving away from him, “yeah, i do.”

“neat,” was his response, clearly comprehending that i wasn’t enjoying this brief interruption in my day.  “what do  you do?”

“well, its a restaurant, i’m sure you can narrow it down,” i retorted, reaching into my pocket, fingering for my phone.

“waitress.” he speculated.

i nodded and looked at the blank screen of my phone- did i really expect to have any missed calls or unread texts.

“so, what’s your name?” he asked.

“what’s it to you?” i asked, taking a drag of my vice. i stood up, and walked towards the door of Gretchen’s.  Dropping my cigarette on the ground, I put my toe of my shoe to the burning ember and squished the end of it, pivoting my foot in a half circle.  i pushed the door open and was faced with the artificial air-conditioning.  walking down the basement stairs i took off my sweater and hung itopen on a coat hook, put my cigarettes and phone in a pocket and then headed up to the floor.  at the top of the stairs i was face to face with lighter boy.

“can i help you?” i asked, pushing him aside.

“yeah, you can actually.” he said, standing his ground.  “i asked you your name, because i was curious, and you walked away.  just so you know, that doesn’t mean the question’s gone away.  so what’s your name?”

“blithe.” i responded cooly.  “now, if you’ll excuse me-“

“question two, can i get a table?”

“talk to the hostess.”

“okay, i’ll do that,” he said, sauntering towards the bar.  “mind if i get a table man?” i heard the boy say.

“take your pick of any open one,” david said in response.  “blithe, you comin’ up anytime soon,”

i walked up the remainder of the steps and gave david my typical disapproving expression.  looking at the floor, the cigarette boy had picked one of my tables miraculously.  i walked over to him, motioned at the specials and said, “know what you want?”

“what do you recommend?”

“i don’t recommend anything,” i responded, looking away.  “i only eat vegan food.”

“oh, i see.  in that case, i’ll get a steak sandwich with extra ‘shrooms and an Allagash.” he said smiling.

“can i see your id?” i asked, as was the protocol i was supposed to follow.  he opened up his wallet and handed me the required item.  looking down at it, i saw his name as sean jenkins- he was 23 years old, and lived a few streets over from my own house.  i placed the piece of plastic on the table and walked away.  i put in his orders and i stood at the end of the bar, looking upwards toward the tv.  “blithe?” david questioned, “you gonna wait on that guy over at table four or not?”

“fuck off david,” i responded. picking up the allagash in my right hand.  “where’s the lemon, asshole?”

“get it  yourself, you’re more than capable.” david laughed.  i picked the smallest lemon slice and stuck it on the rim of the overflowing glass.

“learn how to pour a drink.” i said walking away towards table four.  placing down his allagash, i could feel his eyes staring through me.

“so blithe, how long you been working here?” sean questioned.

“scuse me?” i asked in avoidance.  “three years.”

“yeah, thought you looked familiar.  i’m sean by the way,” he smiled.  “i’ve seen you around town, but i never knew who you were.”

“don’t talk to many people,” i said firmly.  i began walking away, and then i heard the kitchen filling my order.  the bustling kitchen for most is a fearful feat, but i was used to it.  i knew how to manuever around the messes and the testosterone raging men.  “what you up to tonight blithe-y?” the sous-chef inquired.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” i said back to him, pasting a fake smile on my face.  the rest of the cooks hollered and laughed at this remark, and the sous-chef grimaced at my response.  as i picked up the steak sandwich i was immediately sick to my stomach.  it had been 21 years since consuming a piece of meet, and this steak looked especially discouraging.  i called “out” again, as protocol, when leaving the kitchen and walked over to table four.  i placed the steak in front of sean and observed a smile evolving on his pale thin face.  “looks good blithe, send my compliments to the chef,” i heard him say.  i nodded my head in disagreement, but made my way into the kitchen once again and relayed the compliment which was excepted with egotism.  surely egotism that was not rightfully his, afterall, he worked in a local pub that wasn’t known for much other than being a local place.  once in the next half and hour i asked sean how everything was, and was answered in a grateful manner.  finally, he asked for the check and i brought it to him without hesitation.  he paid in cash and then went into the bathroom before he left.  i went outside as he was in the bathroom to smoke another cigarette, but soon, that break was also interrupted.

“hey blithe.” i heard approaching from behind.  i spun around and sean was standing there, cigarette in hand, once again in need of a light.  “think you can loan me your zippo again?” he asked.

“sure.” i responded, rolling my eyes, casually.  i lit his cigarette and he smiled in appreciation.

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i woke up the next morning with the taste of foreign skin still in my mouth.  sean layed sleepily next to me, yawning, but slowly sitting up in bed.  “blithe,” he smiled “morning,” he reached to my bedside table for a pack of american spirits and took two, and lit them, handing one to me.  i smiled, sleepily, but i was still appreciative.  i rummaged around my room for a shirt, and finally took up a flannel and put it on.  sean remained in my bed, smoking his cigarette, smiling at me, and looking out my third floor apartment’s dusty window.  i left the room, and walked into the whirlwind kitchen, and put on a pot of water.  the cats butted up against the back of my legs, causing an involuntary flinch.  i reentered my room, cups of tea in hand.  as we layed in bed, sipping tea, sean looked over at me and asked, “any big dreams last night?”

my response? “bigger and more vivid than usual.”

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