well well well

It has been days - even WEEKS - since I last blogged. And this fact makes no sense because there were quite a few times during those few blog-less weeks when I was hopped up on some kind of stimulant and stimulants usually produce at least a handful of stimulant-ish blog entries and so, well, what happened? Who cares? I'm back! And I have currently forgotten how to blink!

I admire people who have blogs that really get into shit. You know, like raise awareness about certain social issues or give well educated opinions about popular topics in today's news. Or have pretty pictures. This little blog here, however, does none of those things that make blogs worth reading.

This blog is like a dumpster of whiny thoughts and unbalanced emotions.

But I'm not going to apologize. Because it is what it is. And you can read it or not read it. Why should I be sorry? (Note: It is a goal of mine in this year of 2011 to drastically cut down on the amount of apologizing I do. Why? Well, mostly because it is pretty annoying and pointless. 2011 is all about points and makin' 'em! Or just not saying sorry for every small thing. And learning another language. Spanish perhaps? German?)

Now I've run out of steam. But my promise to you is to stop making promises I can't keep and to also blog more regularly about whatever I want (is this a promise I can keep?). Stay tuned and also tune out and drop in and say hello every once in awhile.

concerto

Each feels like a sinking ship, so I have to ask myself not if I can swim, but if I'd rather go down quickly or slowly. I can either plunge now or I can listen to the orchestra play us our fate. Maybe the violins would pierce more perfectly underwater.

brought to you by 16 ounces of energy

I need to develop closer and more meaningful relationships with girls. I place far too much weight on my relationships/interactions with men/boys/dudez and about 1.5% of the time it all ends up okay. I need to start realizing that 1.5% is a pretty effing low number.

This 16 ounces of energy isn't energizing me enough to write. I haven't really been writing much lately. I've had, well, no energy. No emotional energy, just this anxious buzzing in the bottom of my heart. That is different from energy; it is like a tiny death, decomposing. Maybe the buzzing are all of the flies, feasting.

Yeah. I'll probably just go to Borders now and get all existential in the philosophy aisle.

Since we are such a visual generation, here is a picture of an existential-ish cat:

"Cold Poem" by Mary Oliver

Cold now.
Close to the edge. Almost
unbearable. Clouds
bunch up and boil down
from the north of the white bear.
This tree-splitting morning
I dream of his fat tracks,
the lifesaving suet.

I think of summer with its luminous fruit,
blossoms rounding to berries, leaves,
handfuls of grain.

Maybe what cold is, is the time
we measure the love we have always had, secretly,
for our own bones, the hard knife-edged love
for the warm river of the I, beyond all else; maybe

that is what it means the beauty
of the blue shark cruising toward the tumbling seals.

In the season of snow,
in the immeasurable cold,
we grow cruel but honest; we keep
ourselves alive,
if we can, taking one after another
the necessary bodies of others, the many
crushed red flowers.

used to be

“We are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4am of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget.” -Joan Didion