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Sunday, February 26, 2006
I haven't posted in a long time, and I don't know if anybody really reads this thing anymore. No one ever really did. Whatever. Here are some really amazing lyrics that I've listened to for a long time, and I just realized that they pretty much sum up what happened to me on Friday night/ Saturday morning. Innocently, I thought I would go for longer without doing something I truly regret. Well, for the first time I regret something really stupid and bad and insensitive on so many levels, that I did. These are Emm Gryner lyrics:
Acid
You left a good drug on my tongue
And I know and I know and I know
I should write about the dizziness
'Cause I can't talk to the constellation
Like I want and I want yeah I want
'Cause I know too well what's good for me
You just dropped your bomb
Like blood on Tuesday night
Like everyone else you found a pretty face
And you're all set for life
Hey I'll always wish I was with you
Hurt me you can't kill me whatever you wanna do
Hey I'll always wish I had your hand
It would take away the acid if I thought you'd understand
But I don't think you'd understand
You say it happened like the movies
Yeah in a shot in a shot yeah you got
All the things you were looking for
I got enough indigo to wash away my heart
No you gotta keep me on this side of the great wide sea
Now I think I might get myself all 1967 on you
Run screaming to the balcony
But I can't do that can't do
I gotta keep my good composure
And swallow everything I want to say
I spent most of yesterday on the verge of tears, or crying, so by the end of the day I was pretty tired and my eyes were pretty dry. I slept well, for the first time in awhile. I keep on forgetting that none of us are innocent anymore. I don't know why I keep on forgetting. It's pretty obvious. Now I have a lot of work and shit to deal with. My vacation has been pretty weird and mostly bad. I've hardly done anything, and I haven't done any of my work.
FUCK! I'm so screwed!
Hope ya'll enjoy these lyrics, I think they're mad good.
Posted at 04:45 pm by lolitainchains
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Friday, September 30, 2005
I just found this recently. It's a poem that I wrote about a year ago on a napkin at a party.
What a mess it all is now
I can't do it for you who I know and trust
but for him I am anonymous
I am so empty now
And you think this pen can write out something brill.
but there's nothing in my head
Except the ravage unconsecrated on your bed
What to say?
Who cares to hear another song
of a mislead year in a life too young to be so far gone?
How could I do this for you?
Is it just an exchange between two consenting adults?
Perhaps an exchange of sweat and blood and saliva
And some supposed emotion
Escaping.
I'm a better actress than I am a lover
I can make you think I love you and that's what turns you on.
But what little I know of love
Is the longing I don't feel for you
And all I've ever felt of it is what you seem to feel all the time with me.
Now that I'm so old
I can't think I'll ever experience the gravity-defying magic that you have.
But when you (other you)
Slipped your arm out of my skin
It felt like the air I was breathing was
leaving.
And I watched you hover above me like unattainable gods.
Posted at 08:03 pm by lolitainchains
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Saturday, August 13, 2005
Death to the Luscious Tongues
Note: I was just on "Freezer Queens" and noticed that months ago Chessie posted this brilliant poem which we wrote together with magnetic poetry on her fridge, and I absolutely love and it totally made my night, so now it is here. Weee!
Up and leave with some boy
feet singing
true sky watching behind
Trippy,
With frantic blue egg love he scream'd
see black suit or gown rip
How you blow and lick my leg
girl goddess would boil in bed
to worship of play
my breast trudging near you
chains shine like him
fingering is smooth
delerious delicate summer peach lust
floods shake essential easy juice
moanful I swim for her
hairy sweaty hot sausage apparatus
He must lie like the light of pink
shadowy moon
incubate raw aches
he never crushed me
Death to the lusicous tongues
His weak moment recalls you
Basta-Smoocho, Train and Apple wrote this on the 16th of February, 2004, in the medium of magnetic poetry on Train's refrigerador.
Posted at 11:30 pm by lolitainchains
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Sunday, July 31, 2005
This is not summer. This cold grey day mimics the cold grayness of my heart and my insubstantial existence. I don't know what I'm doing here. I wish I didn't depend on the sunshine so much to brighten my days. Like playing music too loud, or playing hard to get, the sun convinces you that you're having more fun than you really are; that you have chances to throw away, because you are that good and that powerful. I don't know what I expected of my sixteenth summer, (or is it my seventeenth?), well anyway, that mythical number of sixteen has been mostly a disappointment. Self-discovery showing me how empty I really am. Connection feels so far away from me now. Knowing that I will spend the rest of my August travelling around the country with my family, hours away from my friends makes my stomach turn. My family may be the only connection I have left in this world, but they still seem responsible for my lack of it elsewhere. The knowlege that when they all die, I will be completely alone in the world, without anyone who shares a drop of blood with me or an enforcable relationship, makes me want to distance myself even more. I don't want to depend on anyone, even though, of course, I do. I don't think I can handle any more rejection.
Posted at 12:30 pm by lolitainchains
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Thursday, July 07, 2005
Your love is not immediate enough for me
kisses every day
that was something new
worth losing everything for
Every afternoon
a new exploration
a new excitement
a new sexiness of existing for you
You have left me parched
in a drought after our stolen season
I am drying up from the inside
Curling into myself
closing the holes I left open
for you
I am covering
healing from the outside in
inside of me are growing cold infections
Today will be the same as yesterday
and tomorrow
and tonight
I will hope
I will cry
I will fool myself into having fun without you
Tonight
I will watch for you in the street
For you
I will wear something that defies dusk
I will wait for you to ring
to kiss you goodnight in my doorway
and you will not come
Just a poem I wrote about what's going on, and how I feel. The usual.
Posted at 10:36 pm by lolitainchains
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Wednesday, July 06, 2005
I can feel a cold sadness growing within me like an ill-fated child of despair. Slowly, I am unlearning the love I had for you. I did everything for you, but I am learning to stop. If I make myself look pretty, I do it for myself, to feel good, or I do it for other people, not you. This morning I made my bed nicely, bedspread carefully tucked over pillows, thinking maybe today would be the day you would call, you would pick me up, we would go back to my house and lie on my bed and make up for lost time. I have trouble believing that the sweet and loving things you said to me last week were lies. I don't know what to think. I know I needed you far too much, and I still do. Without clarity, I am thinking in past-tenses, but last night I still found myself sobbing into my mother's arms when she returned home, the load of pain I have been carrying for the past few months bursting out of me. She told me it would get better, and when I asked when, she said, "I don't know, but I know it will."
Posted at 04:26 pm by lolitainchains
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Monday, June 06, 2005
Why is a woman's worth measured by her sexuality and attractiveness and her ability to take every bit of crap she gets and never break or complain?
Why do I let myself care so much when I know I am so much more?
Why don't I let myself be a whole person?
Why don't we let men and women just be people?
Posted at 06:12 pm by lolitainchains
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Saturday, May 21, 2005
I always wanted to be the girl that every boy wanted to sleep with. I wanted to be the most beautiful and sexy woman in any room, the one who could have any man she wanted, who had control and power over her sexuality. I wanted to refuse men, only to have them come begging back to me, in despair. I wanted to hurt men, lead them on, turn them away, tantalize and torture them, only giving myself fully to the most worthy, eating others like appetizers. My friend said people would call me a slut, but I wouldn't mind. Women only call other women sluts because they are jealous of them. I wanted to be worthy of their jealousy. But I am not this girl.
Posted at 02:45 pm by lolitainchains
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Thursday, May 12, 2005
Posted at 09:45 pm by lolitainchains
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Sunday, April 24, 2005
What I feel is not love. It's not necessarily even like. Some say there's no such thing as falling in love. They say there's only falling in lust. Love takes time. I don't have time. I have lust. But some part of me is falling. Some part of me is without control, because the apologies were his. Now he has left me feeling incomplete, wanting more. He doesn't call. But I remember his sweetness. His worrying about me, his wanting to see me again. I don't understand. So part of me is falling. Falling into the cup of his mouth, which is not like licking an ashtray, though they wish you would think of that and not start smoking. He apologized for smoking, as if he cared what I thought of him. My skin was never so smooth as that night. Smoothest Most Mixable...I was. But he was on top. And now I am falling through the bed, between the sheets where we hid, I am falling through the hole in the flag, into the smoky room and the firey lamp glow that turned our skin red. I am falling through his hands. There is something of falling in this desire. There is something of falling in the way he would only touch and not hold. I didn't love him while we were doing it. It was only after that I longed for completion, and I began to think of him and need him in a certain way. It was only then that I began to fall.
Posted at 09:13 pm by lolitainchains
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A curious feeling of satisfaction filled her, because she alone had the ability to be all women and in this way (she alone) could completely captivate her lover and hold his interest.
~Milan Kundera, The Hitchhiking Game from Laughable Loves
I want to die today
and make love with you in my grave.
~ The Unicorns, Les Os
35
goodby Betty, don't remember me
pencil your eyes dear and have a good time
with the tall tight boys at Tabari'
s, keep your teeth snowy, stick to beer and lime,
wear dark, and where your meeting breasts are round
have roses darling, it's all i ask of you--
but that when light fails and this sweet profound
Paris moves with lovers, two and two
bound for themselves, when passionately dusk
brings softly down the perfume of the world
(and just as smaller stars begin to husk
heaven) you, you exactly paled and curled
with mystic lips take twilight where i know:
proving to Death that Love is so and so.
-e.e. cummings
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
~Bob Dylan, Desolation Row
But I can't do the talks like they talk on my tv screen
I can't do a love song, not the way you sung them to me
I can't do everything, but I would do anything for you
Oh no, I can't do anything except be in love with you
~The Indigo Girls, Romeo & Juliet
70
nearer: breath of my breath: take not thy tingling
limbs from me: make my pain their crazy meal
letting thy tigers of smooth sweetness steal
slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling:
deeper: blood of my blood: with upwardcringing
swiftness plunge these leopards of white dream
in the glad flesh of my fear: more neatly ream
this pith of darkness: carve an evilfringing
flower of madness on gritted lips
and on sprawled eyes squirming with light insane
chisel the killing flame that dizzily grips.
Querying greys between mouthed houses curl
thirstily. Dead stars stink. dawn. Inane,
the poetic carcass of a girl
~ e.e. cummings
I want a lover I don't have to love
I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk
Where's the kid with the chemicals
I got a hunger and I can't seem to get full
~Bright Eyes
Some days my breasts are HUGE.
Which is like saying that on some nights, the moon looks really close. It doesn't really change anything. The moon is still impossibly out of reach, and my breasts are still quite small. But Some nights, while you stare up at the night sky, I will be staring at my breasts in the mirror, both of us imagining what it might be like to live in another world.
~Kitty West, from "The Boob Files" on gurl.com
Honey, don't you know it's time, I feel it's time
Somebody told you 'cause you got to know
That all you ever gonna have to count on
Or gonna wanna lean on
It's gonna feel just like those raindrops do
When they're falling down, honey, all around you.
Oh, I know you're unhappy.
~Janis Joplin
The bright line between food and poison might hold, but not the one between poison and desire.
~Michael Pollan, The Botany of Desire
My little Fuckers:
Greensleeves
32 Flavors
Darthemo
I am a Freezer Queen
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