whygodwhy

1. Did you watch 7th Heaven last night???
The fucking olsentwins are going to be on next week.

lastnight?The

What did I tell you about those troubleGirls?

I really like that sweater.

2. Take it to the bridge.

I saw a girl all alone on a bridge last night.

Alienation, unbelonging, somewhere between girl and woman, set apart, loneliness, no one understands, trying to be something I’m not sure I am. Don’t you see these are all common themes.

Come on what.

3. I practice the way I dress.

I pretend I don’t care

But my invisibility on the sidewalk as you pass by is carefully conceived.

You think I’m joking when I say you would not recognize me on the street. Sure I would you say.

You are lying to yourself like girls acting their age + 10. But don’t feel bad I wouldn’t recognize you on the street eyether.

7th Heaven was good

it’s the sound of a large group of girls, perhaps a dozen, laughing

I feel safe and protected inside and suddenly the storms are everywhere. Unable to grow any stronger out under the canopy of the sky, they come in through cracks in the windows or over telephone lines, seeking new spaces to darken, new light to choke, life to drown.

When the phone rings bad news, you can tell before they even say one word.

It is the way they inhale before speaking the first syllable
(the last syllable before drowning)

I’m thinking of a storm by the sea, the grey sky and the grey water, and all of us on the rocky shore, struggling to push the boat out into the endless ocean.
Arrows fire from off the cliffs behind us,
and the burning on the water feels like our hearts.

I would tell you a story to help you sleep,
and make the dark night pass as though it didn’t even exist,
but then who would be left to tell me a story, and keep me from all the nightmares I know are waiting for me.

I dream about the ocean at night, and everything beneath it.

Maybe there isn’t heaven, but can we intuit the peace of those who are gone.

The waves have claws, and we’re always lost,
but I think I can feel your peace, Rosemary.

I think you are somewhere:

if I can not let the storm be everything,
then there you are, everywhere

We went shopping after work tonight, clothes, toys, anything

We were in a store that is popular with the teenage girls. We were leaving and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the security guard. A very old man, thin, balding, sort of lost looking, smiling even though he looked broken inside.

I didn’t think about it until we got outside, and I realized I knew him.

He used to run a convience store down the street from where we used to live

A really great store, the kind of corner store that always comes through in the clutch when you just realized you need flour, or batteries, or ice cream, and no place else is open.

He was a really great guy, he had operated the store by himself every day for decades.

Then one day he got sick, and the store never opened up again. And the town was coming through every property in the street with eminent domain anyway

Gentrification

what it is like for him, so old, who used to run his own independant store, and now has to be a mall security guard.

The girls in the store probably think he is creepy. in a fake whisper so he can hear. but he is a really sweet, excellent man.

I feel absolutely alone tonite,
even worse than normal.

The wind sounded much hollower than it should have on my way home tonite

and I was sure at least 10 people were following me home

I just channel one of the different voices in my head. They have names like ja5on, secretagentgirl, Lizzyboo, 2 Beers Matty, Spiral, The Buspunks, Crooked man, Television Personality, Creative Writing Undergraduate, Cousin with No Voice, Morgan, The Person in the Empty House at Night, Suspicious Elderly Neighbor, and others that are still too secret to talk about yet.The worst is when I can’t write and feel blocked. This happens when there are too many voices competing for attention all at once. It’s awful. I just have to lay in bed and try to drown them out with really loud music in my headphones.