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December 31, 2005

toward a loonism

well we've got jst another few hours before the year turns. it really doesn't mean anything special to me, all that jazz about how to better oneself for the next year. I spend enough time thinking about that crap during the year and it doesn't seem to fit very will into a druken "last night on the town" sort of mold. if it's time to push it all behind and start anew, why kick it off with such beligerance? seems just wrong to me. so as I may find myself stumbling, dizzy, over-fizzed and a tad smashed later this eve, i now contemplate just how much it will take to turn the night ahead into something.... well, fun. i guess there's just too much on the line on nights like these that i just don't seem to be able to keep it all under wraps, it gets dis-razzled pretty quick when the liquor's flowing good. anyway, if anything i've got to remeber to try very hard to keep myself from maiming any lifeforms, especially myself this evening. also should probably watch out for a few friends, cab's are free if i recall.
well what's to do? fireworks and a bonsifre was one way, also urban rummagings seem to overtake the general plan as most valid. we shall see.
oh, a few resolutions i suppose:
-put myself out there more
-accept losses, mistakes, and total fuck-ups.
-set dealines for personal work
-don't stare at people so much (you know what i mean)

anyway, that's it for now. i've got plenty of time to keep writing though so i'll continue on some off tangent streak which may some day come to define that process which i have given so little to in the long run. it seems again that to publish such mockery of stanza doesn't really hit me too left, in fact i remain starlight backdrop and all a blaze as far as i can tell.

December 29, 2005

worn dregs

As if some dire circumstance begs to be mentioned
among these placid, shallow December days
a rusty tone laces through the moments
ringing heavily beneath this cozy eve
while the windowpane silently holds back a storm.
And still we wonder how it is that such violence fits
as terror sparks discussion round the gaping hearth;
when if only we would follow the ashes through the bitter dark
we then would see how peace is murdered.

of a new cipher

there wasn't much time left once he'd set his eyes on her. a quick look around the rest of the room, now the move, and he was near enough to touch. she'd told him before what the rules were, what possibilites she was willing to accept. it seemed as though she was the first to realize that he was so hard of hearing. then later, after fun smothered the silence, he stumbled across his error, grew briefly disappointed. really, he never thought that it would be so easy to fool himself: remebering to forget the lie he'd used to stay near her. but she knew enough to remind him it was real anyway. and somehow it clicked, at least for a few minutes. and once he started getting over it he saw that it had nothing to do with her in the first place. he'd just told himself that for a long time because he was afraid, or lonely, and surely confused. so he then concluded that there must be someone else, that girl whom he'd always known, never met, and hoped to touch, who might wait for him.