There's a lack of color here.

I've found myself in a rather peculiar state. There is no "happiness" and there is no "sadness", just a calm sense of knowing. Knowing, but not healing. Speaking, but not curing. In fact, it's quite abysmal in many ways, but also, it remains quite interesting. There are things I don't really understand, but then are those things that seem to hit me on a gut level so quickly and precisely that it unhinges me. The mind holds a very powerful connection into the souls of others.

I really see you upside down.

It's all just a matter of perspective, isn't it? We all go different ways, but as for the right way, the only way, the correct way, well, is there such a thing? I find that most people never really see themselves as individual dealers of fate and destiny. I am not a logician, but I believe in this meaningless, beautiful chaos of existence, and I am most often willing to go with it to wherever it takes me without prior rules about what it should be. But why is it so hard for us to accept other people's truths and untruths? Ignorance is a right that must be allowed, for if ignorance is forced to disappear, then knowledge would seem altogether worthless. You give education, you must also allow for the will to resist it. So it is with love and sorrow, grief and happiness. Some choose one over the other out of ignorance, some out of sheer repetitive research. Who are we to offer advice or dictate their choices? How long will we crucify others in hopes of redeeming our own convictions and condemnation?

A gamut of emotions from A to B

I know I've been a liar, and I know I've been a fool, but I'm banking on your intellect and your infuriating calm to validate my efforts. I know what it's like to love someone who doesn't deserve it, 'cause they're all you've got. To take down the ceilings and light the walls on fire just to see them burn, to love for the sake of feeling just a little less alone, I can't understand your sense of shelter. I am, but a swarthy and incensed stranger living in a loud and contaminated wild. But, If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed. I just don't understand why people, why every fucking person is so bad to each other so fucking often. It doesn't make sense to me. Judgment. Control. All that, the whole spectrum. Well, it just...

Nine out of ten times, they're just mean bastards at heart.

Why did you have to change? I miss you already.

Won't you feed me Jack?

What's the use in all of this talking? I know full well that there's nothing to get hung about. It's just that sometimes I wonder if I'm strong enough to take everything they give me and swallow every last bit of it with an attractive smile on my face. I want to leave them with themselves to criticize and regulate. To push their positions on, to fight with and ignore, to deny and to constrain. I understand that I am young, but is not youth a pathway to life? Is not the only way to grow, to gain experience. It is wrong to live only through philosophy and others. Books can take you only so far, knowledge, into a room of convalescent faces and ruddy neck ties. I want to live even if that means making mistakes and falling down. Why must I remain imprisoned by their fears? But as The Shins say : " A stronger girl would shake this off in flight, and never give it more than a frowning hour." so, thats what this is. This is my frowning hour. And then I shall not mention this again. Then, I shall pull up my knickers and find a way to liberate myself. In 2 years at the very most, I'll leave with my family behind me and the future ahead.

On certain pale nights,

Had we nothing to prove, we might have leaned all night at that window, merely beside each other; not curing, not healing, just holding each other until the morning. Watching the quiet street and garish yellow street lamps of that drunken hour talking about life and death. but there were obligations and formalities to such passion; so we sealed the shutters and you drove me home. We raced along the darkened streets not speaking, not hearing, only gazing out into a night that remained silent as if holding its judgment for the pair of lovers speeding along in blissful silence. Always, a glance for the brightening window of experienced lovers, or a confirmation of sorts to substantiate the feelings that need naught to be said. We are not soulmates, we are lustful traders in this teenage wasteland.

Summer in the City.

I'm taking a three-day vacation.
"boomerang"

The Ghost Of Corporate Future.

I was sitting in a non descript room, swelling with absurd faces and lousy neck ties. There were comments on the weather, and blotchy , rather grotesque articulation in regards to the state of things "on the Market." The walls were blank except for a ridiculously painted "tranquil" scene of a boat docked on a tropical island shore, looking out onto the ocean. I decided to pull out my copy of "A People's History Of The United States" by Howard Zinn, to will away the muddiness of it all. A rather boisterous looking man sat on my left talking very fast, into his small blue tooth cellular phone attachment.. It was rather strange sitting next to a man in deep conversation to a person I could not see, while I, being a mere observer, tried not to interfere as to candidly point out that this man's sausage like index finger was clearly intruding in my personal space.

" Oh come on, Charlie, you know that The Dow closed up 73.03 to 11,288.54. Broader indexes were little changed, with the Standard & Poor's 500 up 1.38 to 1,262.90 and the Nasdaq composite down 6.08 to 2,245.38," blabbered the man.

I then wondered rather surreptitiously, sitting quietly next to the man talking to "Charlie", what He looked like while making love to his wife, or walking his dog, or taking a dump, or taking his kids to soccer practice. I wondered if He knew where his teenage kids go at night, Or if he'd ever made another woman moan, even his wife. As I sat pondering this, I thought about my life. I thought how horrible it would be to end up like this man, talking about stock exchanges and and owning a phone that contains a life of it's own. When people make you nervous, an every body's features have somehow started blending, and everyone is plastic, and every one's sarcastic, and all your food is frozen and needs to be defrosted. You'd think the world was ending.

After a few minutes, this man hung up his mouthpiece, and unplugged his cellular device. As we sat in silence, I had the sudden urge to talk to this man. I said, " Hello, how are you today sir?" The man seemed very surprised. He turned to me and just stared at me for a few seconds before answering. " Oh... well quite well young lady, thank you for asking." replied the man with the most absurd haircut I'd ever seen. It seemed to say, ' I am to be respected'****. He turned to face forward once more, though still looking my way out of the corner of his eye. I said, " Excuse me sir, may I ask you a personal question?" He turned to me once more, and yet, did not look me in the eye, and said, " I don't see why not..." " Do you look at your life sir? Is it fulfilling, in your opinion?" Now he looked into my eyes with an expression of sheer and complete shock. He hesitated for a moment, and then half smiled at me. " How old are you, may I ask?" I replied, " Sixteen." He then smiled wryly with a fatherly expression on his face and replied, " Aha, now I know why you have asked me that question. Well if I am to speak frankly, I should tell you that 'No,' I do not feel fulfilled with my life." I said, " If I may ask sir, why is that?" He pondered for a minute or so and said, " Well... I think I don't spend enough time with my wife and kids. My daughter is around your age, and I don't believe I know her well at all. And my wife... my wife.." He ran his hands through his hair wearily. " My wife is not very happy with me at the moment." He looked at me again and seemed to be slightly embarrassed. " I'm sorry," I looked at him and smiled. " No, please, don't be. I think it was lovely of you to share that with me." He seemed to relax a bit. " You must think I'm some sort of working stiff." I turned to him and smiled a little wider, and said, " On the contrary, I think you do what you have to, and that deserves nothing but respect." He looked inquiringly at me and asked, " You really believe that deserves respect?" I replied, " Yes, I do." He said " I want to be with my wife and kid. I want to be there for them and live life with them, not march off to work everyday looking like I'm going to a funeral. I mean I'm in a suit for god sake. I wasn't always like this." I considered him for a moment and then said, " May I make a suggestion?" He looked up and said, "Please, please do." I said, " for starters, maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee and never ever watch the ten o'clock news. maybe you should go home and make love to your wife or lick a rock, or both. maybe you should cut your own hair, cause that can be so funny. It doesn't cost any money, and it always grows back, hair grows even after you're dead."