enfin's reality, music, writing

stranded in the woods sans les murs

surprise! i have interweb.  i’m not surprised actually- in fact, i’m a bit more disappointed than i ought to be.  walpole, isn’t too remote, and the marine center is affiliated with the university, so obviously i have connection.  i was infested today.

infested with thoughts, and words and bubbling hatred.  my mind is cynical right now.  it goes through many phases, and it always has, but currently, i’m a bitter bitch and i couldn’t care less.  i suppose this is because i didn’t read any tao of pooh for the past few days, but so what? i had better things to do.  like flip people off, get escorted off the premises, and eat fried food.  oh that’s the life.  not that i miss any of it.  in fact, i’ve sort of missed the roomate situation thing- especially since coming back from d.c. jmilz was in a league of her own, but there’s always a form of comfort with having two people to vent to, especially when they have the same views as you do.  it doesn’t even matter if you’re interested in the same sorts of things, just not being judged while in their presence is what i like.

but yes. my mind is sort of weeping.  weeping pleas and hopes and demands.  i feel like he’s a leech and all he does is suck suck suck my energy away from me.  i’m followed like a puppy dog’s owner, and i want some time to reflect, to dissapate my thoughts.  i am slowly feeling my mind floating above my head.  balancing, shining, giving off an aura.  too bad that’s all imagery.  too bad that doesn’t happen in real life.  

let’s light stuff on fire

grievously pious, and piously grieving.  take heed, tread and stop.
i need some ten feet away, so you can’t detect that tanline,
and i can’t detect that face.  being, stopping, reoccurring.
match the strides, and slow them down.  differentiate.  
educate…annihilate.  flickering eyes, slippery tongues,
ruby slippers in boxes that house bowls, and herb and zippos galore.
refuting arguments, trampled confidence, coincide with why i
hate you.  raking my face with your smug gestures
cursing your name and burning your clothes.  i hate you.  i want you at an arms-length distance,
or at least ten miles away.
you stand by me, when i bid you good riddance, and you disappear when i need you most.
what can i make of you? what i want is not what you can give,
thus i am only hear to teach you a lesson,
move on
and scar your heart.

someone drop a beat for that serious shit up there.  poetry never felt so good.  i’m hating and down and ready to fucking lay my head and see the stars.  more boat time tomorrow. perhaps my blog entries will end after this.  they sure as hell will by friday, that’s when i’m officially gone lovelies.