i could be the million you never earned.

feverishly — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 04:43:44 GMT

Every human encounter is a singular occasion that can, and will, never recur again exactly.

feverishly — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 21:54:11 GMT

The heart is something fierce.

Ferocious, even.

feverishly — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 03:51:37 GMT

We are backwards and we are forewards and I think this time I have to snip the cord.

I would rather be alone and have a solid justification for loneliness that I feel than to be in a situation in which I should feel connected and do not.

With luck, with a strength I am not sure I possess, I will turn into a brick, like you. I will not allow myself to soften, to reconsider, or to concede to being disappointed.

feverishly — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 17:22:01 GMT

If you write 3.14 on a piece of paper and hold it in a mirror, it will say pie.

Whoa. My mind is blown.

feverishly — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 02:34:02 GMT

What if I said the meaning of life and the meaning of love are identical?

feverishly — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 19:11:40 GMT

Just when I was starting to believe that I had reached the plateau age of life (that is, when you find that you can converse comfortably with the middle aged about your common woes, i.e. relationships, ill health and taxes), I find myself thrust back into the realization that I am still a kid; that I am still making mistakes, that my life goals are still transitive, that I am still falling in and out of love, that my personality is still malleable, that my desires are still impractical, that my friends are still standing with their feet firmly planted on the uneven ground of growing up.

and thank God.

feverishly — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 23:13:47 GMT

I guess, like you said, I never quite learned my lesson about bricks and glass houses.

In honor of your engagement, I vow to no longer reflect on our relationship with emotion, and to allow the following things to lose any meaning that is correlated with you:

the History channel, coffee, the Killdares, collarbone kisses, your small apartment on the east side, aloha pineapples from jamba, winter hats, Californication, four leaf clovers, typewriters, cuffed jeans, population ecology, hummus and pretzels, Kurt Vonnegut (thank god you never liked Buk.), World of Warcraft, white wine, scarves of every color, Border's, Miles Davis, big spoon/little spoon, sing-a-longs at Alamo, and walking hand-in-hand.

feverishly — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 15:53:02 GMT

Remember when you used to go out every night and you felt like you knew everyone? Now you think about people you used to hug comfortably and wonder if they remember your name. It's the thing about bowing out; the world just keeps going. By nature, things gravitate from areas of high occupancy to areas of low; the space you leave will inevitably be filled.

feverishly — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 04:05:34 GMT

I hate when my eyes are finally opened to an opportunity,
right as the door is closing on it.

feverishly — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 03:13:28 GMT

Off-kilter is the finest way to describe how I feel as of late, staring out the window anxious for the winter weather to break.

feverishly — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 17:09:36 GMT

I'm so non stop, get-up-and-go, full battery pack charged. Somtimes I wonder if I really have a central nervous system.

Madama Tussaud's, D.C.

feverishly — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 03:05:55 GMT

Hello from D.C.!

I spent the afternoon with Madonna.

On lacking inspiration

feverishly — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 21:09:37 GMT

Sometimes I feel like my job is like playing clean-up, as if everyone here sees a kid standing on some railroad tracks, with a train screaming toward him at breakneck pace, and usually one of them has either told the kid to go play on the tracks, or has gotten him there by some massive feat of ignorance.

When I point out that the kid is going to be flattened by the train, they shrug their shoulders in unison and say, "he's not my kid."

Then it is me who has to clean his blood, guts, and gore from the ground, but also to notify his parents of what occurred.

And at some point I just want to go, you know what? It's not my kid, either.

And so

feverishly — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 20:52:21 GMT

And so I watched a movie and drank some wine, and suddenly it was ten o'clock.

And so I watched a movie and drank some wine, and suddenly it was July, 2009.

For my reference

feverishly — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 12:34:09 GMT

“Today's scientists have substituted mathematics for experiments, and they wander off through equation after equation, and eventually build a structure which has no relation to reality.”
-Nikola Tesla

ALWAYS

feverishly — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 15:04:07 GMT

I didn't write on the 5th though I fully intended to. I do still miss you, and I wish you were still here.

I guess it's just that I'll always miss you, so I've gotten used to always feeling that way on July 5th. And so it doesn't feel so out of the ordinary anymore.

feverishly — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 19:51:47 GMT

I went to see a movie with a friend and one of the characters made a joke that I didn't get, but I laughed at it anyway. When my friend asked me why it was funny, I pretended to be too engulfed in the movie to answer his question.

If you're thinkin' about my baby...

feverishly — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 18:11:45 GMT

Not to harp on it, but how can you say someone turned his back on his race when in fact he devoted himself to numerous charities to help his race?

Please pray for: the day when we all stop gossiping and learn to moonwalk. (And fall on our faces laughing, appreciating life.)

RIP 6/25/09

feverishly — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 12:32:26 GMT

I feel the need to say it:

I'm not particularly amused by all the jokes and puns about Michael Jackson's life and it's just disrespectful. He was acquitted, which means the law has deemed him innocent, and the law is not just to be respected when we feel it's convenient.

Furthermore, let a man finally have some peace.

feverishly — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 14:08:57 GMT

I haven't dreamt (and rarely thought) about you in weeks (since moving back). It's funny how the absence has me feeling fonder but you are so out of sight.

So many anniversaries

feverishly — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 19:32:00 GMT

4 years today. I have been counseling. Always giving, never taking.

Sometimes it's easy to forget when our days go by so quickly. The things that I don't see are mistaken for things that are simply not there, the illusion of shadows that are not shadows, are real, are tangible, but are not always seen or felt. And I must remind myself to remember.

Remember

feverishly — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 16:00:37 GMT

4 years. Today, I am sorry for the anniversary of the loss of your father.

It's an odd timeline, the space we occupy for short breaths. Who knows what will happen or where we'll end up. Or when.

Soon

feverishly — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 20:25:15 GMT

I think it is one of the saddest feelings ever to realize that something has got to change, but you're not yet sure what or when or how.

Don't you wish you were dead like me?

feverishly — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 22:38:45 GMT

It is selfish, I now know, to want to be understood by anybody but yourself. And we can skip the angst-ridden proclamations about how nobody gets us because we are only looking to be gotten and never to get.

Do you see?

Is it okay to miss things that I never appreciated? The nostalgia is like some card game whose rules we keep repeating so that we can land on the same page, and we keep putting down the cards and hiding our eyes and rearranging our faces and by the time you're ready to move ahead, my mouth is ready to form the words so that I'm either calling blackjack or bullshit.

(I so profoundly want to connect with other people; but I always end up as that one who always likes the other person more than she's liked by that person.)

feverishly — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 01:30:32 GMT

I really did not intend to forget your birthday today.

I only intended to forget your death.