March 2010
5 posts
“There can be no transforming of darkness into light and of apathy into movement...”
– Carl Jung
A Found Letter, Unsent
Dear ____________,
I miss you. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me. Why I stopped living once you died, why everything around me just… stopped, on that day. I tried to move on, to love and live more as I think know you’d have wanted me to. But I couldn’t. I just… XXXXX XXXX X XXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXX XXXX XXXXX XXXX I don’t know.
Some part of me must feel guilty, for all those things I never did...
Versus
Nobody Nowhere Everybody Somewhere Here or there, in betweens and Above or belows We are all inside and outside together, Within and without The ability to do nothing Even when it looks as though that Is exactly what we are doing And still Each and every person here Is led to believe that we are Always Nowhere Special, good, interesting or truly dark Because our lives are less interesting Than...
Once Bitten, Bitter
Don’t pay any attention to what Hollywood would have you think of love. Don’t put stock in greeting cards, or trite, outdated religious sentiments. Each and every bullshit description from these sources is not only flawed, but a product. A lie meant to push hope in the form of movies, cosmetics, pills for erectile dysfunction, clothing, expensive cars and gym memberships.
He knows the truth: love...
January 2010
11 posts
Watch“Skeletons” by the YeahYeahYeahs
Heart in a plastic cage.
He likes the skeletal silhouette of winter trees against the ochre-colored sunrise. He misses his own breath, its quiet and steady rhythm, as much as he misses the feel of someone else breathing sleepily against his neck. He yearns for the quiet and still moments, those fleeting times when he felt at peace and comfortable in his skin, while the night was breaking into day.
He loves poetry, and...
Conversation Over Long Distance
Mirror: That's something I've had to learn to accept the past few years with those people... the fact that they very well could end up dead before they ended up well.
Phantom: All of us are haunted, by something or another. You know the song "I'm Sticking With You" that I quoted last night? It can make me sad sometimes, because I remember holding her limp hand in mine and singing that to her as she lay unconscious in her hospital bed. Nobody, and I mean nobody, has ever given me the degree of love and understanding that she did.
M: I'm tearing up right now. That is so special... to have someone like that. Even through loss, the memories are priceless and irreplaceable.
P: Yes, but what makes me the saddest is that those memories curl in on themselves, become something warped with time... until it's hard to know exactly what you experienced. Sometimes I freak out because I can't remember the way her laughter sounded, or the way that she smelled. And I toss myself backwards in my mind and search frantically for the memory of it.
P: ...when I was a child, she called me her little shadow, because I would follow her around everywhere...
M: I still struggle to remember the smell of my own mother, the Chantilly perfume and Salem Slim Lights on top of one another.
“An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself.”
– Charles Dickens
someone, be a mirror
All those girls, and the scattering of boys with body dysmorphic disorder… he understands them, after a fashion. He’s been dead since 1990, and though he tried for years, could never catch his reflection on any gleaming surface. He barely remembers what he looks like, and his mind’s eye has stretched his flaws into caricature. He imagines that he was ugly, but has no way of...
disdain for your denim.
It wasn’t that the phantom had grown bored of television – he’d become so immensely disinterested that he was contemplating committing suicide all over again. His decision to trek out into the world beyond his haunted apartment was made in the interests of his self-preservation. Though at present, he’s rethinking that decision. In hindsight his first mistake was coming to the fucking mall.
...
His ghost-hand only passes through the remote again, so the television channel continues to irritate him. Lately, he can’t manage to become corporeal for the tiniest moment, though (and this may be why he has a hard time caring enough to affect the world around him) he wonders if things would be different if he could. He may not be left at the mercy of another banal reality show, but that would...
