Category Archives: Messages
The Wave revisited (again)
The last two times I ran away, my sprints ended in your arms. At Tampa International and an abandoned Greyhound terminal in Ocala. Not quite St. Pete or even New Port Richey, but close enough for my geographic explanations to others. Your nickname in jail then, not surprisingly, was Florida. It was easier than Happy [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: adult bodies, coattails, decades of history, front of the line, greyhound terminal, kalakaua, new port richey, studio 54, tampa international, triumphs and tragedies | Leave a comment
One for the ages
So much of my reflection has focused on the dissolution of our love. You’d never know that at one time it was truly one for the ages. I confess that for months now I’ve chosen to tread water and stay stuck in the original wreckage of our hopes. That pain has acted as my muse [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: centrifuge, correct angle, cynicism, dissolution, last spring, love affair, physical attraction, shutter, sweetness, wreckage | Leave a comment
9/11
A tie that used to bind about this situation, this life, was the dreaded judgment of “what will people think?” This fear that would so often cause the pre-dawn cringing of adrenaline-fueled fluttering in my chest. And now I just don’t give a shit. But in a good way. It’s hard enough to figure out [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: beauty bar, cd release show, eight hours, exchanging vows, inevitable explosion, instant messages, levee, pre dawn, rubber bullets, worst case scenario | Leave a comment
How the end always is
I’m sure you’ve fucked at least a few during our court-ordered separation, but I wonder–I really do–have you once again found love? Have you even tried? I remember a conversation we had last June (I think on the way to Flipnotics, the night Lara met us there) when I warned you about the ends of [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: cross pollination, disintegration, distorted reality, duration, empathy, finite duration, last stand, robert smith, sorts, whole life | Leave a comment
Bad lyrics sometimes feel good
What hurt the most shouldn’t have; without access those first few weeks, it wouldn’t have hurt at all. Even after all this time, these months, with shock after shock absorbed, it’s hard to summon the incredulity I felt as I read your words. How completely you sold me out even to people of almost no [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: alanis morrisette, amalgam, cynicism, halloween party, incredulity, juxtaposition, normalcy, punk rock, shania twain, slap in the face | Leave a comment
A hypothetical conversation, in medias res, that could have happened just after dusk in late October (22nd) at, I don’t know, Shady Grove on Barton Springs?
[...]
“So, I have two theories about what happened.”
“Just two?”
“Two that I ruminate on.”
“You ruminate on everything.”
“Only when I’m running through scenarios.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is. Anyway, the first one is Warren-Commission paranoid, yet strangely plausible.”
“Why is that?”
“Honestly? Linda? Really?”
“Tell me.”
“Everything you’ve ever said to me is in play. Are you really going camping this weekend with [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History | Tagged as: ass fine, barton springs, default answer, liar, october 22nd, shady grove, sleepover, sociopath, two theories, wise ass | Leave a comment
You can’t tell people what they want to hear, if you also want to tell the truth
Your whole life, if judged by your musical and literary preferences can be interpreted as a celebration of the derivative. Then what are you? What does one call a derivative of a derivative? Here, let’s mock the character list of admired mediocrity.
Muse? The bastard, near-aborted child of U2 and Rush, complete with overstated odes [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: aborted child, ego trip, excoriation, family beauty, fucking liar, master manipulators, painful truth, quantum mechanics, splitting hairs, wave ska | Leave a comment
Corporate servers and tape back-ups will make sure these never die
In chronological order, a sampling:
Subject: Without it
Because, you see, honesty is not enough. And good will isn’t enough. And feeling. And kisses. And intention. And meaning. And, sadly, love is not enough. We get confused sometimes because all those things are present when the unnamed catalyst exists. But without it—IT! —these beautiful moments are just [...]
Posted in: Messages | Tagged as: back ups, beautiful moments, being a woman, candy shell, chocolate easter eggs, corporate servers, eating chocolate, fertile soil, loving action, slippery slope | Leave a comment
Every minute, every hour, is another chance to change. Life is beautiful and terrible and strange.
I’m sorry I put you in a corner. I know you fight back hard. You’re fighting back too hard. In my mind, in my heart, all I ever did was love you. I made mistakes, of course. It’s a cliché to say, “Who doesn’t make mistakes?” But, who doesn’t make mistakes? Do you want me [...]
Also posted in: Creative, Fragments, History, Journal, Monologues | Tagged as: attempts, belief system, closing time, honesty, life is beautiful, matinee, realization, six months, softness, tuesday afternoon | Leave a comment
The Ethical Slut
I called Linda at work and got her voicemail. I tried her cell phone, but didn’t leave a message when she didn’t answer. We had had an argument the night before. Her phone bill, for the second straight month, was over $250, a result of hundreds of text messages between her and a woman named [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: conservative estimate, ethical slut, male lovers, moral code, multiple partners, sexual adventures, sexual escapades, slut sex, two boys, vacant room | Leave a comment
I love you and I miss you
Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. I miss you like my next breath if it wasn’t taken.
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One day I’m happy and healthy, the next I ain’t doing so well
The Righteous Path
I got a brand new car that drinks a bunch of gas
I got a house in a neighborhood that’s fading fast
I got a dog and a cat that don’t fight too much
I got a few hundred channels to keep me in touch
I got a beautiful wife and three tow-headed kids
I got a couple [...]
Also posted in: History, Journal, Monologues | Tagged as: bad decisions, brand new car, ditches, eight miles, heavy load, irs, righteous path, thin line, trouble with the law, whole lot | Leave a comment
Goddamn, this band is good
Watch. Listen. Learn.
http://video.pbs.org/video/1481901644
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Why didn’t I know this?
I found this journal entry online. Sounds like a very sad person. I can relate to so much she says and feels. It sounds so familiar.
“So this is what this journal is for: wallowing in self pity? That’s great because I’ve plenty to go around for everyone. I don’t feel like my life is my [...]
Also posted in: History, Journal, Monologues | Tagged as: clean slate, close friends, distractions, hell, hemisphere, isolation, planet talk, romantic relationships, sad person, self pity | Leave a comment
The Life Force Crusher-X
It’s funny ’cause it’s true.
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All girls are valuable
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Punk
I will take punk to my grave. No matter how “normal” I ever get or appear. My heart beats punk every second. Punk is my greatest compliment and strongest pejorative. Punk is a synonym for truth. In its most difficult forms. Hardcore is all the fat trimmed, the tears dried, the essence, the primal, the [...]
Also posted in: History, Journal, Monologues | Tagged as: compliment, heart beats, love, punk, synonym, truth, urge | Leave a comment
We all got holes to fill. And them holes are all that’s real. Some fall on you like a storm, sometimes you dig your own.
So the new book starts today, Naming Names: The Consolations of a Worst-Case Scenario. For those of you whose names get named, I will be telling the truth as best I remember it. And truth is defense to libel. Don’t worry, I plan to be hardest on myself. But I will drag your skeletons from [...]
Posted in: Messages | Tagged as: consolations, libel, mud, naming names, pigs, skeletons, stink, telling the truth, three letters, worst case scenario | Leave a comment
Who gives a fuck about an oxford comma?
Why would you lie about something dumb like that?
Why would you lie about anything at all?
Through the pain, I always tell the truth.
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The rules of engagement
These are the rules I’m playing by; yours seem to be a little more lax. I think you need a lot more #1 and #5, a little more #10, and a whole lot less #9. I need to wake up and repeat #11 as a mantra and stop being surprised at how low you can [...]
Posted in: Messages | Tagged as: anger, belief, efficiency, human nature, mantra, proportionality, rationality, rules of engagement, whole lot | Leave a comment
“Lord knows I can’t change,” sounds better in the song than it does with hell to pay
The entries on this site might mistakenly seem full of bile, venom, anger, and sadness. I put it here so I don’t have to carry it with me. I think of you and all I feel is love, love, love. I smile most days, most of the day. And against all odds believe that eventually [...]
Also posted in: Monologues | Tagged as: all odds, anger, bile, burns, hell to pay, love, sadness, smile, sounds better in the song, venom | Leave a comment
A morality play
This is no great illusion. When I’m with you I’m looking for a ghost. Or invisible reasons to fall out of love, and run screaming from our home. Because we live in a house of mirrors, we see our fears and everything: our songs, faces, and second-hand clothes. But more and more we’re suffering, not [...]
Also posted in: Creative, History, Monologues | Tagged as: beers, bullshit, coward, doorstep, heart attacks, illusion, morality play, play girl, right of passage, second hand clothes, sleight of hand, slight of hand, Stubbs | Leave a comment
Because it needs to be said
I totally stole this from Heather Armstrong, but I feel the exact same way:
Some of you, and you know exactly who you are, you can go right ahead and suck it.
Because it has nothing to do with me. They have this idea of who I am and it is based entirely on assumptions. Bad, completely [...]
Posted in: Messages | Tagged as: assumptions, benefit of the doubt, hate mail, hate sites, heather armstrong, insecurities, misinformed, pity party, public forum, twitters | Leave a comment
The exaggerated importance of alignment
I used to reiterate to whomever would listen about how much we were alike. How important it seemed. How different it was not to have to explain this book or that band or that painting. There was almost no ramping up in a discussion on anything from Tool to Schrödinger’s cat and the search [...]
Ain’t that the truth?
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The blanket
Believe it or not everything is venom and everything is love. In an artificial vacuum this is what passes for reflection: pining and trying to understand the purpose or meaning—if any—of an unprecedented sense of loss.
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Posted in: Messages | Tagged as: believe me, love, reflection, sense of loss, unprecedented sense, vacuum, venom | Leave a comment
The grand tour
Of course, I chose Spring Break to get the hell out of Dodge. For the record, it is impossible to fly into Florida, in March, from anywhere, including Florida, for less than a thousand dollars. So for a hundred-fifty bucks I jump on the bus; how bad could it be? If my tone is laying [...]
Also posted in: History | Tagged as: aspersions, florida geographic, florida geography, geographic knowledge, greyhound bus, horse track, low rent, map of florida, panama city, state motto | Leave a comment
I believe in you
I’m going to keep that diamond in my mind. I know you. Our time was double time. Inseparable. Alone together. Now I’m the devil’s child? It doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Look close. Closer. Closer still. Deeper. For thirty seconds, don’t think. Feel. Remember what it’s like to be new. Brand new. And still. For [...]
Also posted in: Creative | Tagged as: devil, diamond mind, double time, love, s child, thirty seconds, vacuum | Leave a comment
Shakespeare and how what feels immediate is older than man
These violent delights have violent ends. And in their triumphs die, like fire and powder which as they kiss consume.
So we begin Act 3. About the same place we began Act 2. A lot has happened, and though I’m closer than most of you, I don’t see how this resolves. I’m tired of my eyes [...]
Also posted in: History, Journal | Tagged as: act 3, cheerful group, fragility, laugh track, one hundred years, platitudes, spiteful, violent delights, violent ends, years of solitude | Leave a comment
Hands to the sky crying, “Why, oh, why?”
Last April I sent that message to a friend, then apologized. I shouldn’t have. That perfectly captures the unspoken question being repeating in her head since at least 2002. (It’s 2010, so I shouldn’t have to remind anyone that online journals never go away. Here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson.) Why do those that have been [...]
Also posted in: Fragments, History | Tagged as: April, gifts, hands to the sky, lowest common denominator, message to a friend, mrs robinson, online journals, piss, unspoken question | Leave a comment
I thought of that recently
“Someone recently asked me if I liked poetry…”
Asking someone if they like poetry is an intimate question. It’s not the casual language of small talk. I assumed you were trying to communicate with me about something other than e.e. cummings. Remember when you believed in my nuanced understanding of the human condition? The choice of [...]
Also posted in: History, Journal | Tagged as: blank, casual language, cup of tea, duplicity, e e cummings, first option, gaines ranch, inconsistencies, irony, knee jerk reaction, phantasmagoria, reflection, slow motion, southwest austin, true intimacy, worst case scenario | Leave a comment
Buddha Lite
To call my knowledge of Buddhism shallow would be generous. Here is my exposure in a nutshell:
1. I saw five minutes of the movie Little Buddha and when I realized Ted “Theodore” Logan was going to be representing the title character, I cleaned up the rivulets of pee then watched Spinal Tap for the 8,657th [...]
Also posted in: Monologues | Tagged as: anna paquin, dalai lama, full disclosure, harvey keitel, little buddha, new friends, rivulets, spinal tap, stillness, ted theodore, true answer, true blood | Leave a comment
The early favorite for best text of the year
Him: I smell like blood and come and too much wine.
Her: OK. You win best text of the day.
Him: It’s only 5:30 a.m.
Her: Trust me. You win.
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Ridiculous and profane
Did I have to go there? I did. But there’s a good reason. You and I connect on such an intellectual level. I absolutely eat your brains.
Also posted in: Monologues | Tagged as: being a woman, brains, email, fertile soil, filibuster, good reason, intellectual level, love, road map, sensual | Leave a comment
Easter eggs
I spend the night eating chocolate Easter eggs. Crunching through the candy shell and letting the sweetness slowly dissolve on my tongue. It’s comforting. The sweetness.
Also posted in: Creative, Fragments, Monologues | Tagged as: ache, candy shell, chocolate easter eggs, delicacy, eating chocolate, email, longing, love, metaphor, presumption, slippery slope, sweetness | Leave a comment
Without it
Because, you see, honesty is not enough. And good will isn’t enough. And feeling. And kisses. And intention. And meaning. And, sadly, love is not enough.
Also posted in: Creative, Monologues | Tagged as: beautiful moments, bricks, catalyst, email, grasps, honesty, intention, kisses, love, rectangles, squares | Leave a comment
I love you but you’ve chosen darkness
In times of trouble, we invent definitions of our desires as unique. We forget that somebody in this world, probably more than one, is sick of the person or situation we put on a pedestal.
We incorrectly believe wants are needs. We exaggerate the importance and the value of what we desire and choose pain [...]
Also posted in: Monologues | Tagged as: blank, breakups, conscious minds, duplicity, eclipses, internal voice, martyrdom, pedestal, preoccupation, prototypical example, reflection, self destructive behavior, times of trouble, tortured artist | Leave a comment
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