earl grey chocolate chip

your smell on my skin is out of context.
i am not 17, or 18, or even 19.
my hair is not long, and i do not drive that car.
i do not go to that school.
i do not live in that house.
that town does not know me.

i am not complacent
or collected
or content
or calm.

i am not in love with you anymore.

so why can't i take off this shirt
and stuff it away in some box or scrapbook or secret space
like all the other simple memories
turned sepia with time...

pomegranite?

my life as it c-eems (as of 1:57 am sundayseptember192010)

cooking sandwiches
closing early
coming home quick
cold shower
covergirl mascara
car ride
clumsy counter spill
co-mingling theather kids
car ride
country boys
coors light
cell phone call
car ride
coors light
cop car
cowboy hat
cabin tour
championship beer pong
camo hat
cup of moonshine
camera
crazy faces
cups and quarters
camping-style pee-dates
coors light
carpet dance party
clanking keys
car ride
closest friends
clapping for sober driver
coming home
curry
coffee ice cream
contentment

i just threw up in my mouth a little

my birthday is december twenty-seventh, nineteen eighty-nine.
i am 20 years, 8 months, and 21 days old.
my parents barely missed the cut-off for being "baby-boomers",
and i barely sqeezed my existence into the '80s. 

i grew up in the '90s. i fully understand the implications of the words:

pokemon
grunge
the macarena
gigapets
push pops
ring pops
bowl cuts
beavis and butthead
ren and stimpey
walkman
old-school disney
overalls
chat rooms
powerpuff girls
"what would jesus do?" paraphernalia
"psych!"
polly pockets
"i've fallen and i can't get up!" commercials
topenga
the backstreet boys

i am part of this generation.
i am part of "today's young people".

HOWEVER-

i absofuckinglutely REFUSE to appreciate these lyrics:

she's nothin like a girl you've ever seen before

nothin you can compare to your neighborhood whore

i'm tryinna find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful

the way that booty movin' - i can't take no more

have to stop what i'm doin', so i can pull up her close

i'm tryinna find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful

damn girl

damn you's a sexy bitch, sexy bitch!

damn, you's a sexy bitch!

be what you wish for. or was it careful? or something...

the universe is witty and well-timed.
emphasis on the witty.
scratch that.
emphasis on the whole thing.

kind of like this:

THE UNIVERSE IS WITTY AND WELL-TIMED.

THE UNIVERSE IS WITTY AND WELL-TIMED.

THE UNIVERSE IS WITTY AND WELL-TIMED.

THE UNIVERSE IS WITTY AND WELL-TIMED.

THE

UNIVERSE

IS

WITTY

AND

WELL-

TIMED.

now if that's not a tree, i don't know what is...

good one, U. good one.

the oregano plant has died, but the sourdough starter lives on

#32

i am angry with the universe.
i am experimenting with the limitations of our relationship.
i am confident the universe will be able to withstand my petty emotions,
but i wonder if this route is an appropriate one to take...

in an attempt to rationalize, i will now justify that i, as a member of this universe, am entitled to feel however i damn well want to.

i think i have a problem with jesus because of the fearful reverence aspect. there are plenty of people who have every right to be pretty pissed off at (insert deity here) for something or another. but you never really hear anyone say "i am pissed at jesus today for (insert malady here)" because they are afraid of lightning or hell or swine flu or something of that nature...

my meager knowledge of buddha leads me to assume no one is ever pissed at him directly because he was just a teacher of peace and never really did anything to anyone directly.

and the atheists have no one in particular to be pissed at, so (as my therapist would say): they are internalizing their feelings- which must be the reason they are so generally pissed all the time.

so i am angry with the universe.
actually i am just bored, which turns itself into a self-constructed state of lonely... but anger is a more familiar emotion, so i would rather call it by the latter.
truthfully, though, my soul is yearning for something substantial, but that is terrifying so i prefer to be angry instead.

fuck feelings. they jumble up my insides like pressure suits in outer space.
i really want a puppy.

quantum schizophreniphysics

stagnant anxiety gives way
to tertiary tempers,
which morph mundanely into languid vigor.

the dictionary is a better bible-
therefore:

why
has
no one
ever thought
to ask
the
moon

if

she would rather
see
other
planets?