cyclops

I've been spending the past few days alone alone alone. I've done nothing of importance. I've taken one photo of me every day at 3:33pm for no reason. I've decided to post the pics here on this foggy bloggy for no reason. Enjoy, for no reason other than enjoyment. Drink in the bliss.


28 August 2011, 3:33pm


29 August 2011, 3:33pm


30 August 2011, 3:33pm


31 August 2011, 3:33pm

fragmented walk

Mourning the loss of Borders (but celebrating my Carver and Kerouac finds at 66% off the cover price), I head out on a walk. More of a stroll, actually. I classify it as a stroll because it was through a city park and I had my hands in my pockets, which seem to be two key factors in strolling. Parks and pockets. So anyway, here is my stream of consciousness while on my stroll. Streams and strolls.

The men I've loved (men? guys? people? I never know quite what to call them) have all loved sneakers. Big sneakers. Clunky, bright hi-tops. And I've loved them regardless. I've also loved them guard-less, my walls non-existent. But those walls, that guard, can go up in an instant over the seemingly smallest thing. Walls and guards. Sneakers and sneaks.

The house I love appears to have installation art in their side yard. A white door, on its side, next to a child's mattress decorated with hot air balloons, on its side, next to six tires and an aluminum trash can inside of a rusty wheelbarrow. Art and trash. Trash and art. Art is trash. We are trash. We are the most delicate trash, purity through the disguise of disgust.

I love all of the houses I pass. Mid-20th century homes. I never want to know what they look like on the inside or who lives there. It and they will just disappoint. Keep the walls alive in my mind. Walls and minds.

Is 27 too late of an age to develop really bad habits? Shouldn't I be cleaning up my life right now instead of welcoming vices with open arms? Most of the time my arms are closed, folded tightly around my chest, avoiding eye contact, creating museum masterpieces from the patterns on the sidewalk.

Walks and walls and parks and strolls.

It's a beautiful evening, a cathedral in the sky.

duh mmm

dumb dumb dum dum ho hum what's done is done.

do you think the universe is trying to tell me not to do certain things? to do other things? do you think it is dumb when people speak of the universe as this massive entity that has a role to play in our lives? aren't we just a dumb speck in space? do i fall back into nihilism or do i fall back into bed? perhaps once i'd like to fall back into a room full of gold coins and swim around in it like scrooge mcduck. too bad i swim like a dumb rock. (note: the earth is a rock - the earth is also mostly water - does this mean i swim like the earth in its own water? take note - i've always been a dumb note taker.)

point taken.

saturday diary entry xoxo

Why am I in a semi-chipper mood today? Is this "real" or am I artificially happy because I currently have a "new identity"? Sometimes I feel like I am walking a fine line between bliss and complete despair. Teetering. Then I pick up a new hobby, a new obsession, a new distraction - and suddenly I am in a good mood, suddenly I have a hopeful outlook. But it inevitably shatters, this glass facade I construct around myself, and I am left to pick up sharp pieces that will cut me and scar over, reminder of who and what I failed to be.

So who what where whey why how am I? How am I? Well, constantly evolving, that's how. Building and believing and destroying and abandoning and masking and revealing and hiding and finding. I am nothing if not ever-fluid, ever-fading - and it's time I stop seeing my indecision as a flaw. It's not a flaw - and it might not necessarily be a strength - but it's not a flaw.

It's Meg. It's a desire to never be too comfortable, too settled, too ordinary, too content, too accepting of what others (including my past and future selves) have prescribed and labeled as yes yes yes and truth and no way and false. Good, bad, dreams, and desires - they change. They morph and adapt and sometimes disappear. So whomever - and whatever - I am is eternally unfinished and grateful because of it.

avoid

Some people might say I avoid things.

Okay, a lot of people might (and do) say I avoid things (and people and places).

I might even say I avoid things.

I avoid things.

What is it exactly that I am avoiding, though? It's too easy just to say that I have social anxiety. It's too easy to say that I am simply a homebody. It's too easy to make up excuses.

In a second I might get a bit romantic in a melodramatic way. I warned you.

I believe I avoid broken hearts.

I went on a short walk tonight. It was the time of night when everything in the sky feels like it is on pause and is just about to be fast forwarded. You can't tell whether or not you should turn your headlights on in your car. You can see the sun and the moon. Kids are still playing outside; or at least the older ones. And it's so beautiful, it's so breathtakingly beautiful with the orange clouds and silhouetted mountains and the acceptance that another day, good or bad, has passed. So you let it pass and suddenly - so suddenly that you may not even notice it has happened - it is dark. The stars take over once the sun slips under her covers, coyly. The sky is still alive, but it's undoubtedly (and predictably) different. Shapes form from the shadows (sometimes within the shadows), temperatures drop significantly, and the hum of insects not seen fills the space we left behind. We are inside now, wrapped up in our controlled environment, hiding away from the now-alien world outside. If there's no light on, why look?

And so yes, I believe I avoid broken hearts. And what we avoid will inevitably come looking for us in the middle of the night. I've got my flashlight, I'm ready.

this summer

I have to constantly remind myself that my posts should be more than Velvet Underground lyrics and Lorrie Moore quotes. But it's hard. It's really hard. They sing/write what I think and so much better!

But oh well. I'll do what I can with the words that I have. And now for a list:

What I Have Learned So Far This Summer

1. To properly cut cabbage, I must not allow the knife to stab me in the stomach.
2. Smoothies cost waaay too much money.
3. Most people are bad tippers; a few people are incredibly generous tippers.
4. Opening up to and trusting people doesn't stop them from saying and doing cruel things to me.
5. Opening up to and trusting me won't stop me (but it should) from saying and doing cruel thing, mostly unintentional and almost always when my heart has been broken in some way.
6. Moe's is an awful bar.
7. I will always change my mind when it comes to location.
8. Best friends will remain best friends even when (temporarily) deserted.
9. I probably shouldn't ever, ever, ever cut my hair again.
10. Doing what I want to do is actually a really great way to live.

all

within me(g) is a strong desire to be uprooted and replanted, haphazardly, into new soil (fresh or stale). also within me(g) is an equally strong desire to pour cement passionately (and rather impulsively) on the ground so that i (she) stay(s) firmly in place, never moving, but spreading. (will this (the future, the past) be a vertical climb or a horizontal move? cast your ballots now.)

_ vertical

_ horizontal

plain

She loves him the way plains love to confuse travelers from the west. Mountain ranges provide direction, a place of origin, protection. The plains displace, disorient, blow right through bare bones. People get lost in open spaces, but people also lose their way in the canyons and dense forests of mountains. To get lost means one has the potential to be found. To find something increases the risk of losing something. And so she continues to love him while simultaneously searching for what isn't there, the map of her life thrown out the window countless miles back.

quiet

the sun is just a star, a fine-tuned eye destined to burn out, leaving us with empty pockets. we think we dominate the cosmic scene. forgetting our origins, we settle down.

journal entry from 7/13/11

Between 2pm and 4pm I don't blink as often as I do the rest of the hours I am awake (assuming I am awake between 2pm and 4pm, because sometimes, as luck/fate/habit would have it, I am asleep during that time). "Awake" and "asleep" -- a-why do they include an "A" at the beginning? It's as if we are hesitating -- as if we haven't quite decided yet to wake or to sleep. Alright. Again. Annihilate.

decay/life

There are many paths and lives and loves calling to me, reaching out to me, and in some cases strangling me with their beauty and potential. So where do I go? How do I accept the fact that not all paths can be taken, not all lives can be led, not all loves can last? I will have to learn to quiet certain options and to eventually let them fade away, evaporate. I grasp. Despite all of the Buddhist (and life) teachings I have heard and with which I agree, I still desperately grasp. I cling on to what I know will one day, sooner or later (usually sooner) disappear and no longer be. Or perhaps it continues to Be, just in a different form? Life leads to decay just as decay leads to life.

aaaaand now for some clarification

Okay, to clarify some things: In my last blog post, I was hurt. I said things that may have not been completely true. Maybe a part of me was trying to hurt someone else, to shift the blame, to make things more dramatic than they needed to be to... Get sympathy? Reassurance? Some kind of validation? A simple response? Basically, this person meant a lot to me and still does and I have nothing but love and respect for them. This person and I just found each other at an unfortunate time in our lives - when we have to be completely selfish and take care of our own issues before we can give ourselves to one another and have a healthy relationship. At least this is how I see it from over here. I could be completely wrong, though (it wouldn't be the first time).

words! on your screen! for you to read!

I don't know how to approach this situation that has been on my mind for some time now. I want to be tactful, I want to be vague, I don't want to complain too much, I don't want to be hurtful, I want to open up, I want to leave something to the imagination, I want to understand, I don't want to let this person get away with anything, I want to be compassionate, I want to be assertive. I want to express a lot of things that are almost too secret to express.

So I won't say a word.

I will leave everyone hanging until just the right time, until I decide what it is that I even want to decide.

Huh? I'm confusing myself, something I do quite well, something that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Here's the thing: This is probably the worst blog entry I have ever written. It's just a bunch of letters thrown together to make words to make something sound more important than it actually is/was. I wish we could have meant more to each other. It sounded nice.

this is perfect