The day before always comes like a fist. There is a rush of air and then the connection. I love this song.

Listening to Brand New makes me feel okay. Though I’m not sure why because most of their shit is fucking depressing. Depressing and awesome. Bring on the new year.

This birthday isn’t different from that. If you told me in say, April, that my birthday would be missing a large handful of people I was spending quite a bit of time with then, I’d have laughed at you. I saw and talked to these folks daily. And if you told me in May, that I’d have met a couple new people throughout the summer that shook things up (in a good way) only to disappear a few minutes later, and that I’d actually care about it… I’d have waved you off about that too.

But it’s almost here. And all of that happened. There was more hurt than I expected, more laughs than anticipated, and an unknown, immeasurable amount of growth that transpired along the way. Growth is a necessary action, but it seems as though it’s always an excruciating process.

It won’t be a bad day. I’m spending it with a few close friends, even some new ones that are bound to become close, and hoping that the night goes off with laughter, flowing wine, and a feeling that the time to hurt is over and the time for things to really take off is beginning.

I was in Barnes and Noble this morning and I picked up a book on astrology, you know, just to see. If it’s right, life may be taking some interesting turns pretty soon. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

I knew I was never gonna talk to you tomorrow
And oh, the birds how they sing
If you were a bird could you sing me a song of sorrow
‘Cause all I know from you is grief
But I never wanted to be your rolling train

I never wanted to be your dancin’ shoes
I just wanted you to love me
I just wanted you to love me
Touch, feel & lose
And cry, cry, cry

I thought maybe I could be some kind of shelter
But oh, your storm how it raged
You know your kisses, they like lightnin’ and thunder
And your smile is sweet and come down like rain

I never wanted to be your dancin’ shoes
I just wanted you to love me
I just wanted you to love me
Touch, feel & lose
And cry, cry, cry
I just wanted you to love me, honey

My life as of late, according to asofterworld.

I’m on vacation from work after this week so I suppose it will come soon. Then school begins. In fact, I just put all the books I’ll need for the semester in my Amazon shopping cart and almost passed out. Every single book is used and the total is still $250.

On a lighter note, I’ve been meeting new people in the general area. Some at random, others are friends of friends, and it’s been pretty great overall. This summer proved to be an eye-opening experience about just how much I tend to put myself out there for people and sometimes how little I get back. The high road is for chumps. And I always seem to take it. I probably always will, but I need to look out for myself more.

I handed out some second chances recently and well… I’m still a chump. Enough said.

To follow suit, I need to get outside (or somewhere) with my camera. I haven’t shot anything in forever and I’m feeling the strain of spending all my time doing various domestic shit around my apartment and neglecting any shred of creativity I possess at the moment.

Writing helps though, so I’m sure I’ll pick it back up. Soon. Maybe. Whatever.

People took digs at me in their various, manipulative ways and I just stood idly by and let it happen. Fuck, I even bought into it for a minute. I believed shit might be getting better but the joke’s on me. Funny thing is, I’m not even mad at the two of you. You’re just being exactly who you always were it was me who thought I saw a glimmer of change, a return to softness and humanity in you. Fuck was I wrong.

I also made the smart decision/mistake (depends on your perspective) of watching Closer this week which is a bad fucking idea if you’re feeling like shit about relationships and the presence of true honesty in people. It’s one of my favorite movies but it might be the loneliest two hours anyone can spend watching beautiful people fight, fuck, and fuck each other up. The film is a series of vignettes that claw deep beneath the skin of just how awful people can treat one another and still expect love, forgiveness. But the moral is there. That sentiment that blows you apart into tiny fragments of emotions and reminds you: be a better person, or this could… will be you. No matter how beautiful you are.

But I got something else from it too. Something I never miss but always forget.

Provocation until that aforementioned honesty rears its ugly head.

So, ‘thank you for your honesty. Now fuck off and die.’

Done. And all the better for it.

asofterworld.com

There’s a truth in there somewhere.

“twenty questions.

something i am. something you aren’t. something i thought i needed, but i don’t.

animal, vegetable, or mineral?
animal.
is it in this room?
no.
has it ever been in this room?
yes.
is it quiet?
at times.
at times meaning it can be loud?
yes.
is it soft?
on the inside.
does it bite?
not with teeth.
what do you mean?
that isn’t a question about the object.
it’s a question. answer it.
i said it doesn’t bite with teeth, but it has bite. it hurts. leaves a mark.
did it leave a mark on you?
we’re getting off topic. these aren’t questions for the game. what the fuck?
call them for the game. i think we’re getting somewhere here.
you’re not getting anywhere.
did it leave a mark on you? count that for two if you want.
it left a mark but it’s fading.
what does it smell like?
earth. and sweat. and last night’s booze.
did you cheat?
what the fuck do you mean, did i cheat?
i think you changed what your object was in the middle of this game.
you can think whatever you want.
so you did?
i’m counting that as a question.
that’s fine. answer it.
no.
you’re lying.
so what if i am?
where can you find this thing?
here and there. more there than here.
so it was here, with you, and then it left?
i guess you can say that.
does it matter to you, that it isn’t here anymore?
i thought it did. i thought i’d hurt more. i thought i’d fight for it. i thought it’d break my heart. i thought i’d want it to. i thought it’d be here for a little while longer i…
i think we should play another game.
why?
because i’m out of questions.
bullshit.
no, really. i know what the object is.
tell me, then. if you know so fucking much.
i don’t need to tell you what it is.
do it. just do it.

it’s me.

you can’t play twenty questions with yourself, or your ability to love because the game will never end the way you think it will. “

There is a big, black cloud over the city today. A huge storm pelting the pavement and it’s incredibly fitting. I managed to get outside to snap a few photos before the rain started. Someone is going to regret not bringing their laundry in earlier. Damn that enticing grey morning for keeping people close to their sofas and beds.

There was hawk perched on the roof of the building across from mine. He stood there looking around for his or her next victim I guess and this tiny bird with a flat, black tail kept flying around him and landing a foot or so away. He’d hop over closer to the hawk and when the hawk turned to look at him, the little bird would fly into the air and circle the hawk’s head before landing again and repeating his little game. It was as if he just wanted to call attention to himself and his cute, flat, black tail feathers. Like, look at me I’m special. I couldn’t help but think the hawk could have easily just snatched that little taunting bird out of the air but he didn’t. It just looked at him. Like it wasn’t ready yet.

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Hawks are birds of prey, also called raptors, which have a presence all over the world except for Antarctica. They possess the attributes of exceptionally fine eyesight, sharp beaks and talons for grabbing their prey, and they have the ability to spot their potential meal with binocular-like vision. Most hawks are what are known as sit-and-wait predators, staying in a selected spot till an animal comes along that they can kill and eat.

“Sit-and-wait predators”. I’ve met a few of those.