if the world will eat me alive,
may i have the decency
to devour it whole.
we enter the planet as orgasms,
so may i leave it on a climax.
Arcade Fire, Greek Theatre, Berkeley, CA 10/3/10
14 years ago
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
w/ dignity
every night from age 12 to infinity,
he would pray to someone (he
wasn't too sure who) and ask
"please, let me die with dignity".
maybe he had days that moved transcendentally
and maybe he had days that
would suck the marrow out of his joy
but the request was posed consistently.
and sometimes he would sleep in his bed
or sleep in a stranger's bed though one
time he woke up in an elevator and even
when he awoke he prayed he wasn't dead (not yet)
though oftentimes he was okay and sometimes
he was afraid he wasn't but if you asked
anyone around him they'd beg to differ but
what do they know about him aside from his asides.
and whenever he thought about you he thought about
more than you he thought about more than death
he thought about the way the world should work
he stopped thinking about himself and his doubt.
and whenever he saw you he thought about how
he wished he knew how to make sure you could
feel the way he feels when he was around you, the
way everyone should feel between before, then, and now.
now his prayer's the same but his definition of dignity
has changed (for better or worse) and the idea
of waking up weightless might be naive but
the idea of dignity is a boy who feels relieved.
there will be days when he will be too busy to have thunk
because he needs to make money and because he
is scared if he stops moving he will die and if he stops
thinking he will be worse than death, he will wake up sunk.
"and if you do not see how beautiful, wise, confident and strong
you really are then shame on you because it's not hard
to do things before you die for someone that makes you feel
the way you make him feel" is what he said before he prayed (hard and long).
there is no nothing -- no thing -- noting that there is everything (everyday)
inside (that nothing), that emptiness, that space between now and later
(that he hopes he savors) and now and then (that he only now comprehends)
so he will lie down tonight, knowing everyday he's not okay (and that observation
makes him okay) and that he's dying every day (though he's dying in his own stupid ideal way)
he would pray to someone (he
wasn't too sure who) and ask
"please, let me die with dignity".
maybe he had days that moved transcendentally
and maybe he had days that
would suck the marrow out of his joy
but the request was posed consistently.
and sometimes he would sleep in his bed
or sleep in a stranger's bed though one
time he woke up in an elevator and even
when he awoke he prayed he wasn't dead (not yet)
though oftentimes he was okay and sometimes
he was afraid he wasn't but if you asked
anyone around him they'd beg to differ but
what do they know about him aside from his asides.
and whenever he thought about you he thought about
more than you he thought about more than death
he thought about the way the world should work
he stopped thinking about himself and his doubt.
and whenever he saw you he thought about how
he wished he knew how to make sure you could
feel the way he feels when he was around you, the
way everyone should feel between before, then, and now.
now his prayer's the same but his definition of dignity
has changed (for better or worse) and the idea
of waking up weightless might be naive but
the idea of dignity is a boy who feels relieved.
there will be days when he will be too busy to have thunk
because he needs to make money and because he
is scared if he stops moving he will die and if he stops
thinking he will be worse than death, he will wake up sunk.
"and if you do not see how beautiful, wise, confident and strong
you really are then shame on you because it's not hard
to do things before you die for someone that makes you feel
the way you make him feel" is what he said before he prayed (hard and long).
there is no nothing -- no thing -- noting that there is everything (everyday)
inside (that nothing), that emptiness, that space between now and later
(that he hopes he savors) and now and then (that he only now comprehends)
so he will lie down tonight, knowing everyday he's not okay (and that observation
makes him okay) and that he's dying every day (though he's dying in his own stupid ideal way)
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
more misawa via herb
The most vivid scene of the night was Saito, 43, who had to be talked out of announcing his retirement that day, getting on his hands and knees to a large framed photo of Misawa, crying and being apologetic. It was actually at that point when fans realized that Misawa died directly related to the move, as opposed to the possibility it was a heart attack suffered in the heat of battle.
There have been an endless number of high profile pro wrestler deaths over the past 25 years. There were the drug deaths, the accidents in and out of the ring, and even a high profile murder. Many were the result of the lifestyle of being a high profile pro wrestling star and falling to the easy temptations. Some, like Eddy Guerrero, may have been, as Dusty Rhodes said right after his death, that he died trying to be a main eventer, essentially steroids and Growth Hormone to try and overcompensate for his small stature that was the only thing holding him from that status. Misawa was the first to die not from trying to be a champion, nor from the lifestyle of the spoils from that success, but because of being the champion.
moarrrrr quotes
“Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. Realize the strength, move on.”-Henry Rollins
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
.
“You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important. Art would not be important if life were not important, and life is important.”-James Baldwin
“If you’re losing your soul and you know it, then you’ve still got a soul left to lose” -Charles Bukowski
“If you’re losing your soul and you know it, then you’ve still got a soul left to lose” -Charles Bukowski
Monday, June 15, 2009
Happy anniversary, Dubliners
Today is the 95th anniversary of the original publishing of Dubliners. The publishers were concerned of the contents of his short stories and this was his response:
“It is not my fault that the odour of ashpits and old weeds and offal hangs round my stories. I seriously believe that you will retard the course of civilization in Ireland by preventing the Irish people from having one good look at themselves in my nicely polished looking-glass.”
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
FRANK
Frank just got promoted at his job. He is my neighbor, probably the best neighbor I ever had. When he moved in, my last neighbors were Archie and Marianne. They were originally the best neighbors I ever had, so you figure the bar was set idiotically high when Frank moved in.
When I get new neighbors my only hope is that they're not too loud and mindful and when you run through enough neighborhoods to actually accumulate a favorite neighbors list then you kind of realize that simple wish is not that simple.
Archie and Marianne knew when to ask the right questions, to invite me at the right time, to insist when they should, to concede when they should. They apologized in advance vis-a-vis when to expect noise if guests are over. They were present but never overbearing nor bored.
Frank is actually the opposite: really intrusive, oft-times belligerent, says the wrong thing at the wrong time. I've woken up to enough people having sex very loudly to last me a lifetime and Frank is responsible for about 99% of them (the other 1% involved "Love To Love Ya" by Timabaland and Magoo on repeat and man I will kill on command if that song ever comes on again).
Frank would walk in and, because my name is Noah, call me "The Biblical Nigga" (he's not black). He would say incomprehensible dickfaced things to any girl I was seeing at any time (One time he walked up to Jody and said that if he squinted his eyes then she'd have the most symmetrical breasts he'd ever seen through a blouse and it's a shame her breasts are probably similar in symmetry to his testicles). He knocked on my door at 4am one night to tell me that Badlands was on.
Frank would also call me "The Biblical Nigga" when I was always looking like a downer. He said that dickfaced thing to her when, unbeknownst to me, she came onto his co-worker at one of his parties. He knew my favorite movie is Badlands.
So he got this promotion and is moving in with his girlfriend of the month, Allison. He dated Allison after meeting her at a Cuddling party. A cuddling party is a party where people organize a party where strangers introduce themselve to the other person and just cuddle each other. He was very into the idea of feeling like a 13 year-old, "afraid of the power of my boner" (his words).
They hung out, didn't cuddle at all but got each other's numbers. And now he's got this promotion and he's dating her and now they're living together and Allison even calls me "The Biblical Nigga".
It's not that I'm not happy for him and that he's like 45 years-old and twice divorced and honestly our greatest moments involved two lonely people being lonely together and so I'm happy for him. He got this promotion and he bought me a Swiss army knife. I asked him why he said "You're an eagle scout now, bitch."
And I guess I am. I too have gotten a promotion in a job I hate in a city I despise in a planet gone bonkers. I'm not jealous he's settled down, or worried that I'll never see him again. Because that's not true, I just won't see him as much as I used to and most of those times I was too busy seething to even render any moments as sentimental. I think I'll miss the uncertainty the most.
His goodbye party starts in five minutes and I'm looking at myself through the reflection of my window. An unfamiliar eye would see me looking at the city lights, but tonight my vanity wins: a portrait of me (transparent) in front of a city (concrete) and wondering if my next neighbor has a vagina and very nice thighs.
One minute later, I'm eating a weed rice krispy treat. Two minutes later, I call Brenda to tell her that I'm going to the party early and to call me when she's on her way so I can wait for her at my place. Three minutes later, I start looking for a new job. Thirty minutes later, Brenda knocks on the door. One hour later I'm looking at Frank like he's a ghost, inert, separated from me and how we're all separated from everybody and how much a miracle it is to connect with anybody anywhere at all in this world. Well, my next neighbor has been issued a challenge.
When I get new neighbors my only hope is that they're not too loud and mindful and when you run through enough neighborhoods to actually accumulate a favorite neighbors list then you kind of realize that simple wish is not that simple.
Archie and Marianne knew when to ask the right questions, to invite me at the right time, to insist when they should, to concede when they should. They apologized in advance vis-a-vis when to expect noise if guests are over. They were present but never overbearing nor bored.
Frank is actually the opposite: really intrusive, oft-times belligerent, says the wrong thing at the wrong time. I've woken up to enough people having sex very loudly to last me a lifetime and Frank is responsible for about 99% of them (the other 1% involved "Love To Love Ya" by Timabaland and Magoo on repeat and man I will kill on command if that song ever comes on again).
Frank would walk in and, because my name is Noah, call me "The Biblical Nigga" (he's not black). He would say incomprehensible dickfaced things to any girl I was seeing at any time (One time he walked up to Jody and said that if he squinted his eyes then she'd have the most symmetrical breasts he'd ever seen through a blouse and it's a shame her breasts are probably similar in symmetry to his testicles). He knocked on my door at 4am one night to tell me that Badlands was on.
Frank would also call me "The Biblical Nigga" when I was always looking like a downer. He said that dickfaced thing to her when, unbeknownst to me, she came onto his co-worker at one of his parties. He knew my favorite movie is Badlands.
So he got this promotion and is moving in with his girlfriend of the month, Allison. He dated Allison after meeting her at a Cuddling party. A cuddling party is a party where people organize a party where strangers introduce themselve to the other person and just cuddle each other. He was very into the idea of feeling like a 13 year-old, "afraid of the power of my boner" (his words).
They hung out, didn't cuddle at all but got each other's numbers. And now he's got this promotion and he's dating her and now they're living together and Allison even calls me "The Biblical Nigga".
It's not that I'm not happy for him and that he's like 45 years-old and twice divorced and honestly our greatest moments involved two lonely people being lonely together and so I'm happy for him. He got this promotion and he bought me a Swiss army knife. I asked him why he said "You're an eagle scout now, bitch."
And I guess I am. I too have gotten a promotion in a job I hate in a city I despise in a planet gone bonkers. I'm not jealous he's settled down, or worried that I'll never see him again. Because that's not true, I just won't see him as much as I used to and most of those times I was too busy seething to even render any moments as sentimental. I think I'll miss the uncertainty the most.
His goodbye party starts in five minutes and I'm looking at myself through the reflection of my window. An unfamiliar eye would see me looking at the city lights, but tonight my vanity wins: a portrait of me (transparent) in front of a city (concrete) and wondering if my next neighbor has a vagina and very nice thighs.
One minute later, I'm eating a weed rice krispy treat. Two minutes later, I call Brenda to tell her that I'm going to the party early and to call me when she's on her way so I can wait for her at my place. Three minutes later, I start looking for a new job. Thirty minutes later, Brenda knocks on the door. One hour later I'm looking at Frank like he's a ghost, inert, separated from me and how we're all separated from everybody and how much a miracle it is to connect with anybody anywhere at all in this world. Well, my next neighbor has been issued a challenge.
THE ADVENTURES OF HONEY B. FLY
So I was kind of like at this party right, like having a little sizz-nye-ip of those margaritas and like damn near tore a hole into the carpet with how I danced motherfucker did I dance. I remember like hanging out with Freda and we were talking about the difference between the red skin potatoes and the russett potatoes (the red skin isnt for mashing, the russetts are) and all of a sudden Billy walks up to me.
He says "what the deal, Honey."
"Unwinding from a long day, Billy."
"That's cool," Billy interrupts. Using enough energy to muster up a "that's cool" in the same way a bellhop wishes you to have a good day. He was at least 6'1 and was the host, all on the hobnobbing tip saying what's up and how are you's like a fucking game show. Like "Ask how everyone's doing 800 times and win a fucking Mazda" and I didn't like how he stepped up to me, because I knew he only talked when he wants something.
"Is it cool if you can get some ice," Billy asked, assuming I'd say yes.
Cause you see Billy knows that I have the power of teleportation. I can close my eyes and go from here to there to wherever and ever. To like eating Mexican food at the Mission or go to Kentucky and get some Old Pappy Winkle's Family Reserve 23 years aged. If someone holds onto me while I teleport they go too, so I've been super helpful with the community, taking kids out of burning buildings and whatnot so sometimes it's weird that I'm known for this one thing and it's like hey look its that person that does this one thing. I mean it's awesome you know, and all that type of unwanted attention is worth it to be blessed with such a power.
But the one thing I hate motherfuckers doing is like being so dense in not knowing that it's obvious we wouldn't talk if you didn't know I can teleport.
So I said yes, of course Billy. On one condition if you go with me to the store. Billy was very gung ho and we took a shot of Jack before I closed my eyes and teleported to the store. My rollerblades are orange and purple and people wonder why I wear them but then they've never seen me have to fling forward when I teleport from point A to point B. It's part of the landing part of this power.
So I roll into front of the market because it's cocky to slide into the actual store and be like "No harm, my fellow citizens of Somewhere Where I Live it is just Honey B. Fly teleporting to get some ice."
Billy was sort of upset that didn't happen and it was very obvious, him asking if we could teleport one more time into the store. He let me into the store first and started his way into the ice chest area. He grabbed 2 bags of ice and put it in a cart, one on top of the other.
I decided since I was here I'd get some batteries for my universal remote so I headed in that direction of the store. When we met up in the front, he was reading Us Weekly talking about the Flintstones having a rocky relationship right now. I put my batteries into the supermarket converyor belt and he added his ice. He looked into his pockets and there was no wallet. He apologized and asked if he could borrow money for the ice. I looked right at him and rolled my eyes. Andre 3000 is in the background, blaring in the speakers. He was asking for all the Beyonces and Lucy Liu's to get on the floor.
I looked at him and I said "Alright."
So I paid for him, an obvious calculated move he had planned. Who doesn't bring their wallet with them to buy ice? Assholes do, that's who.
The register guy gave me a receipt and told me to have a good day. Of note, the guy telling me to have a good day was far more sincere than Billy saying anything. So Yeah, I'm grabbing the bags and I give it to him.
"Thanks a lot, Honey," He said.
"No problem," I responded. "Now get your ass your own ride you stupid ass vampire."
And so I closed my eyes and went back to my room. That'll teach Billy.
He says "what the deal, Honey."
"Unwinding from a long day, Billy."
"That's cool," Billy interrupts. Using enough energy to muster up a "that's cool" in the same way a bellhop wishes you to have a good day. He was at least 6'1 and was the host, all on the hobnobbing tip saying what's up and how are you's like a fucking game show. Like "Ask how everyone's doing 800 times and win a fucking Mazda" and I didn't like how he stepped up to me, because I knew he only talked when he wants something.
"Is it cool if you can get some ice," Billy asked, assuming I'd say yes.
Cause you see Billy knows that I have the power of teleportation. I can close my eyes and go from here to there to wherever and ever. To like eating Mexican food at the Mission or go to Kentucky and get some Old Pappy Winkle's Family Reserve 23 years aged. If someone holds onto me while I teleport they go too, so I've been super helpful with the community, taking kids out of burning buildings and whatnot so sometimes it's weird that I'm known for this one thing and it's like hey look its that person that does this one thing. I mean it's awesome you know, and all that type of unwanted attention is worth it to be blessed with such a power.
But the one thing I hate motherfuckers doing is like being so dense in not knowing that it's obvious we wouldn't talk if you didn't know I can teleport.
So I said yes, of course Billy. On one condition if you go with me to the store. Billy was very gung ho and we took a shot of Jack before I closed my eyes and teleported to the store. My rollerblades are orange and purple and people wonder why I wear them but then they've never seen me have to fling forward when I teleport from point A to point B. It's part of the landing part of this power.
So I roll into front of the market because it's cocky to slide into the actual store and be like "No harm, my fellow citizens of Somewhere Where I Live it is just Honey B. Fly teleporting to get some ice."
Billy was sort of upset that didn't happen and it was very obvious, him asking if we could teleport one more time into the store. He let me into the store first and started his way into the ice chest area. He grabbed 2 bags of ice and put it in a cart, one on top of the other.
I decided since I was here I'd get some batteries for my universal remote so I headed in that direction of the store. When we met up in the front, he was reading Us Weekly talking about the Flintstones having a rocky relationship right now. I put my batteries into the supermarket converyor belt and he added his ice. He looked into his pockets and there was no wallet. He apologized and asked if he could borrow money for the ice. I looked right at him and rolled my eyes. Andre 3000 is in the background, blaring in the speakers. He was asking for all the Beyonces and Lucy Liu's to get on the floor.
I looked at him and I said "Alright."
So I paid for him, an obvious calculated move he had planned. Who doesn't bring their wallet with them to buy ice? Assholes do, that's who.
The register guy gave me a receipt and told me to have a good day. Of note, the guy telling me to have a good day was far more sincere than Billy saying anything. So Yeah, I'm grabbing the bags and I give it to him.
"Thanks a lot, Honey," He said.
"No problem," I responded. "Now get your ass your own ride you stupid ass vampire."
And so I closed my eyes and went back to my room. That'll teach Billy.
Monday, June 01, 2009
in hopes of killing this
writer's block for my novel i will be writing a short story every day for the month of june.
dapat ginawa ko noon pa, february pa, 2008 pa. nagdecide wala ng dates sa story (i.e. march 2006) kasi kailangan ko magawang timeless at universal. nagwa-whittle ko ng titles para sa personal journey ni clark pero self conscious pa ako, takot kung sobrang pretentious ng whole idea of creator,createe,roles of humans, etc kasi wala kong masters degree para sa philosophy pero sabi ng dad ko pilosipo pa rin ako. maynila miss kita, especially the long walks.
can i be homesick for multiple homes, one that i am staying in, one that i have stayed in and am going to plus the intangible homes that have once rested comfortable between me and the world? it is so possible it's like looking at an empty row of toilet stalls when all i need to do is just pee.
first story will be up by the end of the day, if it doesnt then i'll do two stories in one day. i just need to write and learn and work on patients and patience ya feels?
I talked to my therapist and he says if possible for me to stay here as long as possible. This has definitely thrown a kink into the plans but I guess I have to take his suggestion to heart so we'll see we'll cross our fingers and we will fly.
dapat ginawa ko noon pa, february pa, 2008 pa. nagdecide wala ng dates sa story (i.e. march 2006) kasi kailangan ko magawang timeless at universal. nagwa-whittle ko ng titles para sa personal journey ni clark pero self conscious pa ako, takot kung sobrang pretentious ng whole idea of creator,createe,roles of humans, etc kasi wala kong masters degree para sa philosophy pero sabi ng dad ko pilosipo pa rin ako. maynila miss kita, especially the long walks.
can i be homesick for multiple homes, one that i am staying in, one that i have stayed in and am going to plus the intangible homes that have once rested comfortable between me and the world? it is so possible it's like looking at an empty row of toilet stalls when all i need to do is just pee.
first story will be up by the end of the day, if it doesnt then i'll do two stories in one day. i just need to write and learn and work on patients and patience ya feels?
I talked to my therapist and he says if possible for me to stay here as long as possible. This has definitely thrown a kink into the plans but I guess I have to take his suggestion to heart so we'll see we'll cross our fingers and we will fly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)