sort of what we were talking 'bout darling.

i want to answer questions.
i want to be carried along.
once in a while.

do you imagine what it would be like to be someone else?
do you imagine what it would be like to be an inanimate object?
do you save the best bite 'til last?
do you set your alarm clock every night?
do you hit 'snooze' when you wake-up?
do you reread the best part of your book?
do you procrastinate conversations?
do you collect memories?
do you have insane ambitions?
do you have a favourite word?
do you recognize people you havent seen in years?
do you engage in pleasant conversation with those same people?
do you write in a journal?
do you wish on a wishchip?
do you make lists?
do you like to answer questions?
do you like scary rides?
do you break promises?
do you keep promises?
do you lie?
do you replay moments in your head?
do you imagine them to be better?
do you pretend to be someone you arent?
do you sleep in church?
do you cry in front of people?
do you cry alone?
do you laugh at yourself?
do you monkey-see-monkey-do?
do you analyse people you've never met?
do you analyse people you know?
do you kiss and tell?
do you think bunnys are cute?
do you think rabbits are cute?
do you have a favourite list?
do you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else?
do you colour flowers and happy smiles?
do you dress up?
do you daydream?
do you scream when no one is home?
do you pretend to be a rockstar behind a closed door?
do you have habits?
do you admit your failures?
do you have a go-up-into attic?
do you have a filled-with-insulation attic?
do you pretend dreams are real?
do you dry or press flowers?
do you ever hate yourself?
do you have a favourite person and place?
do you write in capitals?
do you sleep with a teddybear?
do you keep kindergarten finger paintings?
do you count the dots on the ceiling?
do you watch people, genuinly interested?
do you click your pen?
do you smile when you're awkward?
do you make up stories?
do you like to be alone?
do you squeeze your eyes and see rainbows?
do you wink?

yours truly,
Used To Be

dear Daddy

you know how tough things bring people together? well: (this as in: somethin' tough)

Why does it have to be something like this to bring us closer together?
Why does it have to be something like this to get us to look at our lives?
Why does it have to be something like this to remind us you’re still in control?
(kirstyn krause)

may 14 [dont feel obligated to read]
im gonna do something rare because im not myself and i need a big snap snap of my fingers. but thats later on. first some fun song stuff:

'waiting here with hopes the phone will ring'
'anything at all to break the silence.'
'so don't be a liar, dont say that 'everything's working' when everythings broken. and you smile like a saint but you curse like a sailor and your eyes say the jokes on me.'
'who do i think i am kidding? when im the only one locked in this hell'
'i don't don't don't believe I fell asleep talk's a waste of time'
'but if the silence takes you, then i hope it takes me too.'
'im upside down'
'avoiding the spots where we'd have to speak'
'i cant just turn off how i feel'
'i know what you wanna say'

now for a rarity 'cause this just doesnt feel quite right:

im sitting cross legged in front of my stereo. the same stereo i turned off this morning, in teh wee hours. that being 12.03 and 57 seconds, 'cause 'i always catch the clock' at moments like that.

zip zip zip back to the morning. i left my cd paused all day so it was night, that is.dark. and i lay on my bed, still fully dressed, wondering what that spin spin spinning was. then i turned off my paused music. the significance of that? not sure yet.

zip zip zip back to present time. if i lean just far enough to my right, not too far so i hit my head, knock myself out and you all end up visiting me in the hospital while i rest in a coma with one of those heart-beepy things next to me. no not that far. just far enough so i can lok out the window at the back of the house at my pool, which is open by the way. in which i want to go swimming by the way.

so then i click play, watch the pretty little digital black lines spinning in circles. the suspense is killing me now. im clicking skip skip skip 66 times 'cause i dont know how else to get to song 66 and now i have some poor quality pretty damien song stuck in my head. m, what i would do for the initials d.r. they're so neat.

now im noticing im sick of the shells on my night table, the button box in the middle of my floor, the stack of green pens on my desk, the shoe box under my desk, and the crumpled paper in my garbage can.

so ive noticed things i would love that ill never have:
wedges
absense of time
unchipped paint
continuous dreams
and streams of words
telepathy
tanner

love taught me to cry - ever cried in your sleep?
so come on courage, teach me to be shy.

'ill be right back after this commercial..wanna sit down now?'

im going to put this here and im going to get in trouble for it. but i dont really care id rather trouble than nothing. but at least i can say i saw it coming.
here lies pretty pearly button #1
here lies pretty pearly button #2
here lies red nail polish
here lies red lipstick
here lies smalltown
here lies monkey-on-my-door
and monkey-in-the-corner

i can hear your heartbeat. but you cant hear mine 'cause your head is way up there and my heart is way down here. and thats the way i want it. 'cause thats the way i like it.

from the soul of:
CHI [cationic hydration interlink]

feel
in
g how this ho
use is pounding. thats the incessant beating of a hea
rt h
eaded down the path to

insani
ty. t

o insanity to insanity to insanity, soon yo
u'll be s
tuck with insanity insanity insanity.

ps. whats it like to be you, God?

for jo; i call it: j'aime mes chaussures

shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoej'aimebeaucoupmeschaussuresshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoes
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe
shoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoeshoe

a little bit of a lot to say:



The drinkin' bone is connected to the party bone,
The party bone's connected to the stayin' out all night long
And she won't think it's funny
And I'll wind up all alone
And the lonely bone's connected the drinking bone....
Drinking Bone --Tracy Byrd--

im sure you're all familiar with: life is rotation, by now. so i heard Drinking Bone on a country, yes country, radio station yesterday. there's yet another example of 'life is rotation'. only he caught on to it and most other people who live out the examples of rotation in there lives dont recognize it. actually, after school i was talking to mr. demoor (yes..cause i forgot to call my parents so they'd come pick me up..uhuh..'official idiot signing in for daily check-up') and we were talking about history/life repeating itself and how you dont often realize the familiarity of it all until you look back and you're like 'holy! deja vu only...one year ago! where the heck was my head!'

how do you spell halo?

ha·loed, ha·lo·ing, ha·loes
To encircle with or as if with a halo.

Ce que dit la petite Princesse des Tulipes
What the little Tulip Princess says

J'aime beaucoup la soupe aux choux
mais j'aime encore mieux ma petite maman
parlons bas
car ma poupee a mal a la tete:
fille est tombee du 3e etage
le docteur dit que ce n'est rien

(i love cabbage soup,
but even better i love my little mama.
lets talk quietly
because my doll has a headache:
she fell from the third floor
the doctor says its nothing)


who am i?

he thinks that man is me
he knew him at a glance!
that stranger he has found
this man could be my chance!
why should i save his hide?
why should i right this wrong
when i have come so far
and struggled for so long?
if i speak, i am condemned,
if i stay silent, i am damned!
....
who am i? who am i?
i am jean valjean!
and so, javert, you see it's true
that man bears no more guilt than you!
who am i?


castle on a cloud

there is a castle on a cloud
i like to go there in my sleep
aren't any floors for me to sweep
not in my castle on a cloud
there is a room thats full of toys
there are a hundred boys and girls
nobody shouts or talks too loud
not in my castle on a cloud
there is a lady all in white
holds me and sings a lullaby
she's nice to see
and she's soft to touch
she says: "cosette i love you very much"
i know a place where no one's lost
i know a place where no one cries
crying at all is not allowed
not in my castle on a cloud

ever wish you could catch a moment and hold onto it forever?

when i see you walk by me and you smile, i know im crazy for you, and i know all is okay.
dont get me rescued, but dont get me fooled: this is all taking a toll on my heart.

these walls are lucky

the walls of your space, theyre lucky

can you imagine, if walls had eyes. theyd get to see you cross your fingers behind your back when you swear to tell the truth. they memorize all the little habits youve got. theyd get to see the face you make behind another back. they get to see you dancing when no ones looking. they get to see your grin of victory and plain pleasure when youre held in love, they stand by watching as you pound your pillow and pour out your tears, screaming to no one but the wall.

can you imagine, if your walls had ears. theyd hear all your secrets, the ones you tell just to get them out when no one else is around. they would get to hear you giggle behind a closed door. they would hear you talking in your sleep, could probably even make out the words you say. theyd hear you scream how much you hate the world then sing of how beautiful it is the very next day. theyd hear you curse, cry, laugh, sing, and all those other noises you make out of pure emotion.

can you imagine, if your walls had mouths. what would they say. they could tell you off when you did something wrong and wont admit it, when you need to smarten up. they could convince you into becoming successful instead of hiding in the shadow of some other big guy. theyd comfort you when you cant find a way out of the tunnel they had watched you build. they could give advice, advice thatd be simply to your best interest intead of biased. they could laugh at your lame jokes and go karaoke with you late at night. they could tell you what to say in an awkward phone conversation and give you pre-big-night talks. they could remind you to look at your list of reminders.

o what walls could do if they had senses.

these walls are lucky, they get to see you at your best and at your worst. they get to see a obvious and complex you, no shadows, a clear, perfectly clear image.

these walls are so lucky.

i wrote this as a letter, bought the stamps and all but i lost your address.

narrator: she walks up front, clears her throat, sticks her hands in her pockets, pulls out her batteries, tongue ring, corsage, and speech. throws it all away 'cept the speech. whaps the microphone, and speaks, shivering at every 'r'.

this is what ive concluded in the last two days:
im abstract, vague at first reaction, but not afraid to explain, open up and tell whatever story ive got going on inside me.
people dont and wont always get me, im sorry 'bout that, id say id fix it but i wont cause thatd be conforming to other peopls ideas/wishes and we dont do that now do we.
with that established, get this:
im not /trying/ to hold you at arms length and yes im speaking to /all/ of you. im hooked on playing, but there's a point where it gets to be too much, ill be the last one to admit that, and that brings me to my next point. those lines. are you aware that people make a heck of a lot of lines these days. im attempting to not cross them, but sometimes its impossible, sometimes i cant help it, and sometimes they /need/ to be crossed for my good and yours. so the major two im avoiding right now are: that of tension, and that of play.
i hope you could make sense of that, or at least /part/ of it, cause or else im officially hopeless. signing the papers and all.

love
tj

you're a bit of a rebel and im a bit of a fanatic.
im thinking they complement eachother.

1. im going on a camping trip and im bringing:
a mind and a half
my teddybear
a deck of magic cards

im going on a camping trip and im leaving behind:
my hands, my lips, and my heart

2. ive got a list from my curled tips to my red toes and this is how it looks:
ive got a trick kite, a trick plan, and a tricked left hand
ive got love and a half
ive got and undecided top ten favourites
ive got uneven hairspray so the bottle tips over, spills out over my bedroom and holds hard enough to cancel three seconds ago
ive got words to play with
ive got regrets
ive got the future to live out
ive got me waiting for whats next
ive got ken and barbie, kelly, stacey, and all his GI Joes pretending to be alive
ive got details to look after, and details to ignore
ive got a blank mind
ive got my reflection in the doorknob, me standing next to a stranger, the one at the bustop and this is how he looks:
hes got eyes that wont look at me
hes got hands id hold before anything else
hes got me spelling backwards
hes got a hat identical to my great grandfathers
hes got two jackets
hes got a darling and a dear
hes got a voice 'worn out from calling for help;
his throat is parched,
his eyes fail,
looking for his God' (psalm 69.3)
hes got to be fifty
hes got my attention, hes got the potential to be the next modern super hero, waiting for his chariot to heaven, standing at the bus stop

we'll see what comes out of whats gone by
talk sense.

'talk sense, can i do anything to help you? what do you want to be?'
'a thief'
of lies, and stories made up in the laundry mat

one quarter