Cat's Taco - inhale sadness. exhale greatness

Sometimes I believe words mean nothing. There is somewhat of a difference between knowing something and believing it.

I believe he loved me when he says, "There has yet to be a day where I didn't think of you." But I know that it's true coming from the person it came from. If the other person said exactly the same as, "You've been the only person I've loved in such a manner," it would have never stopped there, see. An "i dunno" or various fragments did not follow as they would have coming from the others. I feel no need to question these statements because I believe they are true. I do not believe they are false. I know they worth believing to be true coming from the person they came from.

Ideas may be transcribed loosely in words, but in words that you would never actually catch yourself saying is apparently bad journalism or bad reporting (according to my late professor). There is merit in freedom of speech, in free flow, in spoken word, in impulse... There is more merit in fermentation, planned obsolescence, clear intentions, respectful obligation, social responsibility to the person who deserves it.

I miss companionship. I miss last semester. I miss my past lives.

But I'm here in this one, now, with Holly the cat who won't stop meowing because her dad is gone for the week. I feel sorry for her, because I am leaving, too, for a week on Sunday. I am driving with my girlfriend and her spawn to Orange County where I will take deep breaths hopefully, only, composure must be maintained.

My life a blur. I allow myself to be lost in thought.

I lie to the others who ask too many questions instead of just holding me and letting me stay quiet.
Hold me

O well
You got me under your spell
and I don't think that I'm kidding around

don't think I can forget you now

Once, I sat up on my roof
Examining the planet of my town
Saw the structures of pretty pavement cutting through grass
and
Remembered the cold of winter running up the leg of my pants
and
Picked the nicest lawn and imagined the two of us rolling around
Down, all on the ground
and
I saw myself touch your face
and
I noticed jets begin to ease above our heads
and
I pinched my arm and remembered how much you hate me
Remembered the fact I can't see what you need
Cause I'm too stupid to be aware of the beauty that you give this place
and
how shitty this town would seem with out you in it
or
when you're not around... let the shades fall down
and
shut out all the sun's light
to make myself feel alright

What am I doing with my life?
O well

Remember
the only thing we need sometimes
Are chilly nights and warmer thighs
Cause nothing's like being held, sometimes.

Courage, the Coward

I have come to many small conclusions that are not initially rational or logically cohesive. One could argue that that sentence doesn't even make sense. I can hear my parents inside talk-yelling at each other and I hear a disrespectful tone of voice, or maybe that's just my dad talking to a customer. These conclusions have lead me to lesser instances of courageous action, therefore a coward to what seems like many.
"You're just searching for life," they say.
But these conclusions have made me mundanely courageous, ethically skeptical; a passionate 'autonomism'. The further I let myself stray from who I thought I was all these years, I stumble upon who I knew I was all along. Social irresponsibility overcomes me and I feel freer, smaller, deader, dreaming

Friday Night

just so happens to be my favorite Katy Perry song.

Slavery of Speech

My right upper arm muscles are sore. I refuse to write about how I'm listening to Fugazi right now. I am also in need of a yoga partner. I have returned from a 505150. They kept me at my friend's apartment in Los Angeles with no money, and only two changes of clothes. They made me smoke inside and get high. They made me sit in the back seat of a car with no leg space. They bought me every meal, every drink, and every cigarette I consumed during my stay. Our first stop was a strip club where I spent every dollar I had. Suddenly my wallet was full of one dollar bills. "How convenient," I thought to myself. One of the dancing babes put her hat on my head. I was in a trance, but not for the reasons that are obvious if this was just some fictional story. I was in a new place with new people and it felt so familiar. Every time I tried to be in charge of something, it inevitably failed. I guess you could say that they took good care of me withoutright insisting. It felt so much like a dream because I had no concept of time; it just never made sense. Anything could happen in 3 hours, really... 10pm-1am...

Before that they locked me in a concrete room where drugs were available, just dangling in front of me like a dripping duck.

It was so terrible.

Then they made me talk to a blonde musician who was shorter than me.