@5 months ago

@5 months ago

@6 months ago

introspecting omega

Cigarette in

Out

Wafting smoky discharge

Tears precipitate

One-story town

Dog tied to bike-rack

Cries

Owners indulge espressos

Pavement

Uneasy and rolling

Seasick skateboard ride

Amble to town

Never leaving anywhere

Even the moon

Seems to be getting smaller

Destined to fuck up

Assigned a role

Sad for never winning

My retardation delights and destroys

My friends

View me as a jester

Alive for the amusement of the normal

@7 months ago

.357 magnum alarm clock

5:00 am

my lover has not slept well

unattributable malaise

I have sensed it

uneasy sleep tries to rekindle

front door of the apartment

opens

shuts

slow shuffling footsteps

through the kitchen

her ex-boyfrined

drunk?

smoking a cigarette

dumbfounded by what he has discovered

he will demand answers

I know it

I am laying naked

so is she

this was his spot I am sure of it

raise to my elbows

tell him to fuck off

“who the fuck do think you are” he shouts

sophist

illustrates his point with a page from apocrypha

draws a black .357 magnum

like a tiny sad dirty harry

trains it at my baby face

mammoth pistol in his frail fingers

stares down my exhausted innocence

wins

she is incensed

he points the gun at her

she is infuriated

I am terrified

he points the gun to his head

she is horrified

I am panic stricken

he is deranged

“I love my apartment, I love my girlfriend, I love my cats”

he slobbers

“they’re not yours anymore motherfucker” she screams

“you lost them when you tried to choke me”

the truth at last

he understands the closure finally

he is crying too

takes his gun and goes

she robes

demands reason for his malevolence

I pull on my boxers

they exit the apartment

outside on the stoop

they argue disjointedly

inside I smoke

shaky hands, eyes burning scared

the conflict has subsided

her ex-boyfriend departs

peeling out on his motorcycle

raping the silence of dawn

just as he has murdered

my false sense of security

she takes me into her arms

her expression belies billions of fight or flight reflexes

cast in a Rorshach test set of browlines

my personal terror manifests

richter scale shivers

tremoring

from the core of my naivety

she is apologizing

I have already forgiven her

alive in her tender embrace

forged by my emotional fury

@7 months ago with 1 note

@5 months ago with 1 note

this brave new world is kind of a pussy

We are alone, we are together, we are dead. We affect each other, the effects are lasting. Gratitude might be a memory, emotion, or idea. We might not realize we’re grateful until someone’s gone. I used the expression soliloquy in the void in my poetry when I was younger because that was all I knew. This network is still distant from me even after six months of studying it intensely and contributing every single day. I live in words, contexts, meanings, misinterpretations, and duality. Twitter helped that. I don’t live in relationships, communication, comprehension, and being present. Twitter exacerbated that. I am no stranger to loss, or taking ownership of the reasons behind it. Many of my real-world relationships are suffering, but unfortunately I can’t pin that on what I do here. This has helped me know I have a voice, at whatever point validity takes place. The people who know my voice are not the people I hold, hug, and love in reality because my voice is of the person I need to bifurcate from my existence to have a chance with the people I need to keep in my life. It’s not a void, and it’s not a soliloquy. You have given me real laughs and real tears, to the point of eclipsing the impact of my own flawed existence and choices. When I go, it will likely be because of the 20 years of self-destructing, but if you still miss me after that someone else will be grateful to know that para-social relationships can be extremely gratifying and quite real. Don’t change, do change, just do it or don’t but never forget that the sway you have with people is very real and important. Being brave enough to leave on your own terms commands respect, but not as much as having the dignity to comport yourself with class while you were here. The way you were is the way some people will always view the way this system operates. A system that chews up the beautiful and lets the antagonists run wild. In that way, this world isn’t new or different at all. 

@5 months ago with 2 notes

@6 months ago with 1 note

attribute this

when is it the proper time grandfather?

they ask that, oh do they ask that

there is so much to fear young one

yet so little to enjoy

and in spite of the overwhelming 

physical evidence that your tangible life

contains beauty solace and solitude

you have come to me in tears

but grandfather you always ask…

I cannot find my way for the ways are…

as you trail off you realize it is not the ways

but your inner failings that guide you to despair

these lamentations made upon the solitary eve

are nothing when drawn against a soliloquy in the morn

when true reason rules the day

and the complex doping of the era has worn off

@7 months ago with 1 note

identity crisis hostage negotiator

I have been spinning my wheels on this whole “who am I” proposition. I thought I knew, and then I started high school. then again when college started. again when I got married. now once more when I realized how much I like twitter. I call this thing the “twitter persona” because it fascinates me.

I quit facebook because I wanted to be myself, I grew up in colorado springs colorado where 99% of people are right-wing conservative, and program their kids that way too. those were the kids I went to school with, even in college. I’m a little, no a lot left-leaning. I’ve fallen over to the left. my twitter timeline gave me a place to post all the counter-opinions I had always fostered, but instead of getting attacked I got sort of rewarded, or something.

a good example is my 9-11 status from facebook in 2010: “worst september 11 ever”. it didn’t go over very well, so poorly in fact that I actually started planning my facebookicide that day. back to twitter and the persona in as much as me talking about the before mentioned 9/11/2010 facebook status as a weird tweet that seemed to resonate.

one of the first people to start reading my tweets said in the first FF I ever got that my tweets were mildly charming and that twitter might capture my soul eventually. thanks for that @christinastuff. twitter did just that.

I have been waffling back and forth between attention grabbing tweets and jokes and political commentaries and making fun of bands and writing little poems and further humiliating celebrities and writing absurd juxtapositions or just talking about twitter. I get totally self-conscious and twittercidal almost every day.

I think about every angle of the interactions I have with my family, and that my family has with me because weird hilarity always ensues. I feel like I’m neglecting life for twitter sometimes, only to write a tweet that shows me I’m actually profoundly more engaged than I have ever been with my surroundings and the many people I love.

the people I follow and who follow me regularly blow my mind with their humor and intellect, kindness and sagacity. I’ve seen people reach out, reach back, and reach around to keep young twits on course, tweeting whatever they want. I want to give back so I do in any way I can copy or invent.

I’m on the fence about punctuation, capitalization, and bizarre syntax because of my college degree and the years I spent in graduate school studying technical journalism. I know what to do so I don’t because I don’t want to think about my student loan debt anymore.

the point is I started a tumblr page because I miss the facebook I never knew, a network of friends I want to have and know more about. cheers. -sq

@7 months ago with 1 note