Be My Baby

I think I'm going into seclusion for a while. A sort of mental hibernation. Right now, my life is so hectic and unorganized I can't seem to get anything done. I feel the need to slow my whole body down and start putting things back to where they need to be. Shuffle around a few pieces of thought. Stack things to make room. De-clutter my mind. My god, I feel so constrained under these circumstances. And while I want to feel the joy of writing again, and become passionate about my interests again, I can't seem to find my way back to it; my life is becoming one large blur without beginning or end, without focus or motivation, and void of any kind of clarity; my interests lay inarticulate in my brain while my thoughts merge into one sluggish piece of B.S.-producing slop; and because I can't seem to find time to do anything anymore, there's only one option: a complete halt of movement; a stop in mindless motion; a breather before final suffocation. I can't continue on like this. I need a change. So that's why I'm doing this. I'll see y'all later--or when I feel like posting again. Maybe I'll come back with an encyclopedia-sized catalog of new stuff. Anyways, that's all for now.

Mr. Postman

I'm sure I've listened to this song about twenty times today. I just keep hitting replay every time it ends.



I think the Beatles are equally interesting for their music as well the evolution of their careers.

Although their early career is full of catchy, popular tunes, I think the reason they're so famous and well-liked is because their music matured as they grew older. They grew with the times, their music grew with them, and the world changed with their music. It's funny to think these are the same guys who made 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band'. Haha, how people change, right? At the same time, I'm overwhelmed with sadness watching the young John Lennon bouncing on stage like nothing in the world could be more fun than to play 'Mr. Postman' on that stage with his friends.

It's easy for most of us to ignore the death of a person we didn't know or didn't care for, but I think John Lennon's loss has hurt us all a little bit. And we cannot forget George Harrison as well.

Involuntary Happiness

For me, the best kind of smile is the one you can't help giving. It's the kind that pulls your mouth up like magic and you feel the involuntary stretch of your face. This is the most natural kind of smile; it's a smile of pure pleasure, satisfaction, or amusement. There's no thinking; there's no force. It's as natural as our heartbeat. I see no reason for not enjoying it; it's one of the best feelings in the world. A natural pleasure. One of biology's many gifts.

Get Over Her Already

"She seems happy. I read her status updates and she's always going on about how much fun she had that day with him, you know? She just seems happy with him, and I think you're selfishness needs to stop. And even if they're not happy together, and they're miserable from head to toe everyday, you don't have any kind of right to try to be with her while she's with him. Even if you're trying to get closer as friends, your intentions are always the same. She doesn't like you in that way, can't you see that? She's not the only girl in the world. There are millions of girls like her in the world, girls you'd die to be with. She doesn't like you, and you should get over it already. You're being a dumbass trying to win her romantic affection, and your unrequited desire is not healthy. Also, if you also sincerely like her sister, then like her sister, and don't think about what you may gain by it. People have feelings and thoughts; she's her own person, and she is NOT her older sister."

That is what I'd say to my friend if I had the compassion and cruelty to break his heart.

Afraid of Losing It

recently i was cleaning my room
sweep sweep broom broom
crunch crackle crunch
I have a lot of fast food wrappers strewn on my floor

when from under a pile of dirty clothes
a realization came scurrying out
as fast as a dart of lightning
and jumped inside my jacket pocket

startled i tried to leap out of the way
but instead tripped over a pile of books
and fell backwards onto my bookshelf where
dozens of miscellaneous curios rained on my head
and landed in explosions of glass by my side

my cat asleep on the job sprung into the air five feet
landed like a ninja
and surveyed the ruckused room

after a few lengthy sniffs and perks of the ear
he lazered his sharp yellow eyes at my jacket pocket
where the fluffy epiphany sat trembling

despite the cliche
the tom and jerry fiction
there is some fact to reality
cats chase and kill like clouds breeze and rain and spin storm gray
that was no look of curiosity
but of sharp intentions and mindless instinct

how could i give over the tiny creature
to a predator
satiable only through blood
if i were it and it were me
what would we do
i thought
and concluded
exactly the same

later at the pet store
i asked if critters like it ever wore collars
so that if lost
someone could call me quickly and help me find him
the old man at the register laughed
throaty and cachinnate
as he returned my change for the hamster cage

at home i thought over the question again and again
and didn't see what was so funny
because i really was concerned about losing him
seeing a blur of fur swallowed into a pink jar
opened under yellow eyes
and gone from me forever