still

2003-10-12T07:27:00.000-07:00

What the hell happened to my beeyooteefool background?!

2003-09-19T01:57:00.000-07:00

I will update this very very soon! Really. (Who could the 60 other visitors have been?)

2003-08-12T17:54:00.000-07:00

I have recently rediscovered haiku. (FYI: It's an unrhymed Japanese 3-liner poem with a total of 17 syllables. The ideal division of the syllables per line is 5,7,5. But what the heck? I'm not Japanese!) It makes me feel like a real serious author (as if I'm not...) because 3 short lines are considered a whole poem already! Here are some:

Things lost
That reappear
Are meant to be found.

Like my own hand
I've always known where you are.
I'll find you again.

Dude you're hooked!
Oh no!
So am I...

Your face in mine
Gives me
An inherited heart.

I'll shine your boots
And your bike
Then throw me away when I'm done.

July 17, 2003

Traces of ingratitude swell in my heart
But I manage to keep some space for your name.
And every letter is written with a pointed rock
It doesn't hurt, it's cool in fact.
What is more painful is the erasing part.
Cut me up and see for yourself
You can check the spelling.
You can pour some gin.
And if you can't see it well
I'll write it over again.

2302hrs
July 17, 2003 (Happy birthday Susan Silver!)

Ooooh...this next one is a favorite. I was inspired by Finch's "Letters to You."

Letters to Chris.
Letters that tell.
Letters undelivered.
Letters again.
Letters bitching.
Letters crying.
Letters piling (on my bed there's no more space for lying).
Letters of my valuables
(so they're prolly) letters of myself.
Letters fly up
To the night and away.
Letters find him
And then drop like hell.
Letters spell my powers.
Letters, more letters.
Letters and nothing but.
Letters in his arms
Letters take me there.

2325hrs
July 17, 2003
--> It?'s not as yucky as you may think. I have developed this extra special love for Chris Cornell. It's extra special because it includes huge respect and a lot of other feelings that I do not feel for anybody else.

2003-06-19T02:30:00.000-07:00

The next few “masterpieces” are so far the products of my Chris-plagued heart. I’m sharing them to you not so you can spit and laugh about it but because I feel him drawing nearer to me every time a new soul tastes what he does to me. Enjoy. 8D

When it rains hard
Everything slows down.
Like the traffic outside
And my term paper deadline.
When things decelerate
I get more gaps between thoughts
More often
And injected in all of them
Is a lucid image of you.
I see you bitching about the burnt toast.
I watch you swing sweet little Lilian
In your big safe arms
As you sing her to sleep in your most melancholic tone.
Rainy days mess everything up in school.
It fucks up all the drivers’ moods.
Rain can be a bitch where I am.
I’m sure the contrary goes for you.
Either way, I love rainy days, even stormy ones.
Because then, I clearly see you.

2138hrs
06.11.03

Don’t talk to me when I’m tired.
Don’t get me down when you see stars in my eyes.
My superunkown is nowhere now.
My gigastar is shining somewhere alien and far.
I’m moving out and on
If I could only get my foot dislodged.
Has the sun forgotten that he’s supposed
To light my trail today?
In the humid darkness I hold my heart.
I try to appease it while waiting for your spark.
As love and faith’s power hit me in the head
Again today,
I hold tightly on to my superunkown.

06.11.03

Though my tomorrows never come
Only for you have I got all the time.
And as everyone’s out seizing the day
Here I am in your porch lying in wait.
I’m growing prettier by the day.
When will you come and see?
I’m staying and waiting—
I’m smiling someplace you’re not visiting.
And I’ll stop searching for your footprints.
I know you’ll come home and find me.

21something hrs
06.18.03

2003-05-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

Rico was fixing something in his cluttered garage. I couldn’t exactly see nor remember whether it had something to do with his car or the tiles. He just kept on lying face down on the floor. I was standing right on the driveway with the car’s headlights facing me, ready to cut me to halves light saber style. I was just watching him the whole time. Envying the tiny clear salty drops of sweat running down his long slender neck. He was acting a bit twitchy. Under his breath he said he was missing a bolt and a nut. He looked over, under, and inside his newly waxed car. He opened every box in the garage. Toolboxes, shoeboxes, nostalgia boxes, old clothes boxes, even the kitty litter box. He went inside the house and I waited there in the driveway standing still. My left elbow started to itch so I commanded my right hand to scratch it . It won’t. I noticed that it was holding something hard and cold inside tightly. I opened my right hand to see a shiny bolt and a shiny nut to go with it. I did not remember picking up anything with my hands since yesterday. Rico came back out of the house, slamming the squeaky screen door behind him. I could tell he was really getting tired of looking . I came closer to the car to tell him I have them. “Are these what you’re looking for?” I asked. He did not seem to hear me. “I think this is the bolt and nut you’re looking for.” No reply. He did not even move a single muscle to glance at me. I looked down on my tummy and the rest of my lower body and felt it with my free left hand to see if I was still there. I was. Maybe he really just didn’t hear me. I came over to him and touched his shoulder. He looked me straight in the eye with those pair of hypnotizing stellar globes that I think are his eyes. I gathered enough guts and opened my mouth to tell him to stop turning the house upside down because I have them. But before I could exhale a word, he resumed his quest for the stupid bolt and nut.

2003-05-12T10:15:00.000-07:00
*Sink or swim

What if the bathroom drains in the world were all connected? I know what I’d do! I would swim my way through all the septic tanks to get to you. I’d ask your alligator loofa if he scrubbed you well today. And probably wash him too. Maybe I’d smell your fluffy white towels (which you roll over on when you make serious love). Sniff the fragrance off your soap… and your shampoo. Comb my hair using your comb. Feel your toilet seat. Stroke and probe the world’s luckiest toothbrush. I’ll make sure to bring a jar next time and get some water from your bidet. I’ll label it with masking tape that says: “consecrated water that almost touched the invisible floating torso man’s butt.” When I hear your footsteps closing in, I’d run back to the drain, hold a gallon of breath and dive right in. Tomorrow, I would be back… exactly @ 10:24 (according to Mr. Alligator) when it’s time for your bath.

2003-05-12T10:14:00.000-07:00

I sold my soul to a stranger
Whom I bumped with at the bus stop.
He offered me a high price for it.
I had second thoughts.
I said that wouldn’t be fair
And that I’d be rippin’ him off
For my soul is all gashed, wretched and soaked.
He insisted.
I gave in.
With what seemed like a playback of my life
He reached inside my mouth
And took my soul out.
I watched as he carelessly crumpled and jammed it
Inside a huge backpack
Along with other colorful souls.

Carrying the seemingly heavy bag
And a big evil grin
He hopped on a star-laid Pacita Express
Which fed me all its carbon monoxide.
A couple days later
I wanted my soul back.
I felt naked and autistic without one.
So I went out searching for the man.
I found him
But I did not have the heart to
Demand my soul back.
I still see him around
With our souls on his backpack.

2003-05-12T10:11:00.000-07:00
I look up the starless sky, stuck my tongue out…pfft,
As I was this world quitting.
I bade goodbye my toys and all my other favorites
As I was this world quitting.
I had to see the object of my affection strolling along a beautiful garden
Drinking apple hi-c with a gurl I hated so
As I was this world quitting.
I ate clams for a last supper and LBM’d like hell
As I was this world quitting.
I caught my pinkie in a huge wooden door
As I was this world quitting.
I wouldn’t let any freakin’ crap stop me from resigning
As I was this world quitting.
But my laziness—the one thing I have no control over, is hard at work again
As I was this world quitting.
And so I had to put it off for another day
Maybe tomorrow the world will (just) fire me.

03.16.03am

2003-05-12T10:10:00.000-07:00
I take a deep breath and take the toughest killer test.
I run so fast I don’t see my path.
I cry like hell for the things I could have done.
I get my leg caught up in a deep grave.
I look up the sky and smile at whatever I see.
I suck the blood that run quickly from my clenched fist.
I scream in fear of seeing a happy me.
All this time I have always been on my own.
And I know it’ll always be just me…
And He who guards my soul.

03.13.03
21.49

2003-04-23T22:42:00.001-07:00
So now I’m on my own again.
I forgot how it was before.
So I always get my emo moments
Especially when I’m alone.
I have always been alone.>
So all the reminders that lead to you
Choke my heart fiercely.
So how do I get away
From a distant star that shines
Way much brighter than
The powerful sun?
So this is how it is to fall.
So now I have proven that I am not
Numb at all.
So I begin to free myself some more.
So I achieve not for you.
Because I don’t wanna touch
A star
And burn my hands sore.

03.25.03
22.33

2003-04-23T22:42:00.000-07:00
Somebody thinks of me as just a kid.
Somebody thinks of me as just.
Somebody thinks of me.
Somebody thinks.
Somebody.