Only the Lonely

I had a crush on John Candy circa the Uncle Buck/Who's Harry Crumb/Planes, Trains
days. Who didn't? Maybe you. Cuz maybe you think fat people don't belong in Hollywood, or maybe you just don't like humor. But I'm not supposing anything. I'm just trying to give the man a break. Ya, and his birthday's on Halloween.

The Color of Love

is the same as revenge
is the same as my blood
on yr hands in the end
put up yr Arms
i can see them protrude
from the side of yr head
i won't lose
The color of Love
is the same as the wine
staining the taste of yr mouth
from the inside
relaxing every word
you shoot towards my sword
from the safety you yield
upon summoning whore
The color of Love
is fading to the hue
I lost in that alleyway
where i first hit you.

DownGown

if nothing but to fly like flamingo
mo ne mo ne mo
true like an arrow in flight
in a manner of thought
or so splintered in mind
a one of a mysterious lot....

if nothing but to bring like peafowl
do da do da do
silent yr howl
hidaway of the jowl
should they have studied you
or measured through
a hue of a silvery blue...

if nothing but to flee like emu
boo lee bo boo lee bu
to survive towards the left
or the demise on the right
unlike the convenience of two

And just when I learned her good......

my mom has finally added Trader Joes to her rounds upon going down the hill. She's finally come around to the greatness that is gyozas, lavosh flat bread, mochi, san pellegrino limonata, vodka spaghetti sauce, arugala (its a ve-ge-table), soy vay marinade, brown cow maple yogurt, and the list goes on. My point, I came home from a weekend at my new place, and she's shopped as if she loved me. My point part deux, that i'm leaving in a week. God-damn!

P.S. I'm moving to "the city of angels or demons". And I'm insistent on liking it.

I wish.......

...that it was possible to choke yrself with yr own hands. Neither ropes nor bands would give me the same satisfaction.


...the world would come to its senses.


...i had taken a sleeping pill 2 hours ago.


...i could see the future. I promise to not NOT act surprised.

...Sambas came in navy. Oh, they do? Oh, okay.

...Ferry's were real, and only I had them. Oh, fairies.

...i was bad-ass enough to kick my own ass. Like what's his face in Fight Club.

...I wish, I didn't kill that fish.

The Great Pain of Indescision

I've never been good at it. I remember being in line at Thrifty's, beside my little brother. He'd be bouncing and pulling at my grama's purse. Mint & Chip, Mint & Chip, Mint & Chip......That's always what it was for him. Except sometimes, in the unfortunate case when vanilla stood in the place of Mint & Chip. You know, because everyone and their dog likes Mint & Chip. 'cept me. Hate mint & Chip. Anyway, the point being that there i'd be with my face to the window, having a definitely physical feeling of dread for when we'd come up to the register. Rocky Road? Well, this one has walnuts and not almonds. Pistachio? No, Ricky's getting Mint & Chip, i don't want a green one, too. Black Cherry? Huh, black cherry....that sounds....no, you got black cherry last time. It didn't really have that many cherries in it, and besides, maybe it would be nice to try a flavor you've never tried. Coffee? But i hate coffee. Sherbert? That's what people on a diet get, it probably sucks. Pistachio? It is your favorite... No, No, No, maybe I'll just get strawberry with a sugar cone. So we'd reach the register, and ricky would shout his flavor...MINT AND CHIP!!!! Grandma, COFFEE....And i'd be wringing my fingers not wanting to frustrate the stupid teenager behind the glass. Suddenly my eyes would focus on the scooper soaking in the milky water, becoming grossed out at any thought of ice cream. Ewww, that water looks like melted butter....butter? butter? Butter Pecan....yes, yes, butter pecan. It was stressful, and it was always the same, age 6, 9, 12, and even now. Thrifty's now Rite Aid, single cones are almost 2 bucks, but some things will always stay the same. I can't make decisions. I have never had the ability to foresee what is going to make me happy. The worst part would come after we've come to the car, and my brother would already be at the cone, ice cream all over his face, happy, happy, happy. Aren't these the kinds of memories that little children in Kazakistan and Nepal dream about? Shut the fuck up.

Anyway, so I've been wanting to leave my mountain. I'm stir-crazy. I'm mountain-drunk....I'm itchy. Yes, so you've heard. I have the opportunity to move to LA, place already set up, job already set up.....Sounds great right? But no, my little responsible voice in the head tells me.....you're not financially prepared. It goes against all yr plans of summer school. Los Angeles? I thought we both knew how you felt about Los Angeles. But i want to move. But it doesn't seem like the right decision. Come on, are you chicken? Nobody calls me chicken.

So now in this day and age, I use things like good old-fashion advice and tarot cards to make my decisions. Honestly though, all i ever used to really want was Black Cherry. If only I knew the significance........

What Would Jesus Do?

He would probably wake me up early in the morning while it is still dark, and suggest we take a walk. He'd probably suggest I take a jacket, because i'd still be in my sleepy zone, not really thinking, trying to walk out the door in my pajama pants and t-shirt. I would suggest taking the snowy river-bed route, since I'd be less likely to slip and fall on my bum. He wouldn't hear of it. Up the hill we must climb, if I want real guidance. I would start to complain once my Converse soaked through, and I'd probably start with the "Are we there,yets". Based on my perception of Jesus, I'd grab hold of his hand everytime I felt my foot slosh deeper into the snow than I intended for it to go. At first, he'd think it was cute, well until I really did fall and pulled him down with me. He would take that opportunity to tell me that I should have brought a walking stick. I'd decide to suck it up and just run up the hill, get this over with, since he's obviously not interested in me. He follows and shouts that I'm not going the right way. I apologize by explaining that I'd rather get to the top, first, then decide which direction to move. He doesn't agree. I can tell by his expression. It's an expression I've never seen in any of the pictures I have seen of Jesus. Once we both reach the top of the hill, I ask him why he's taken me here. He leans against the walking stick and stares at the dark blue bottom of the dawn. I realize I'm not going to get any answers or any play.