[this isn't the lost notebook poem. I just sat down to write and this sprung out. in fact....] Sprung

(this reads best when read in silence)

no you don't HEAR me because I'm not screaming, I'm typing typing typing and it's how I SPEAK but you don't HEAR me because it's commonplace, it's all commonplace. here's the thing, my dear, this is the thing, says Fink, this is the thing, that you are all yous and I am a me but pronouns they sway and skew and you all think you're you and you all think I'm me, but what I want in a you is for you to be me. what I want in a you is for you to make free see be flee FLEE from how many times I've looked at you, not the you YOU'RE thinking and thought: if you KNEW how I care, you'd put its S back on front, tack it on like a memo to a tree, tack it on like it's got no place to be, I said if you KNEW how I care, maybe you'd reciproCARE, sit on a brick wall after using her in a stall, sit near a fountain of youth, a fountain of knowhow, a fountain of know how to fix what we have. know how to fix what I do and do again, know how to fix what I need from a friend. you'd tack the S back on front and bottle the Scare, bottle the wares, bottle the growing you think you know how to share. you think you know how to fare, pride yourself on pride, forgetting the times you've tried to glue what you thought fit together, but you don't KNOW cause you can't HEAR me. and if you could you wouldn't care, you see, the way you muse on others forces me to muse on THIS and when you ask me the matter, when you ask me what matters, I stumble because you're not what I'm used to, I said I'm used to sending the friend in after me, waiting the months to think I'm fine, underestimating the amount I've learned and now call mine, I'm used to the games and break and swine, but you, you had the pearls, you had the girls, but I didn't care, you see, I could look past and passed the past and pass the past and trade him in like you said to do, trade in those years for a fresh set of cheers, trade in that future for a new set of fears, and the fear it would swim like my heart did to him. swim like my heart, swim like my, swim like, swim swam swum, swim like my heart did to him before its feet felt the scum of the pond bottom it sank to, the pond bottom it pushed from, now doing the backstroke on a surface that gleams with the moon in the day and the sun in the night, doing the macarena on a surface that I thought I'd broken through. the surface of you I thought I'd sprung anew but I must not know what I'm TALKING about, cause the caps lock's on lock and I don't know what you're talking ABOUT. the stings of notgoodenough reflect on your handling more than my bantering, more on your stammering than on my flattery, the stings they POISON and you're too hurt to hurt but you HURT me. I'd already healed and you HURT me. and I don't care what you say, I don't envy the play, I don't seize Seize the Day and you don't care that you .hurt. me. so I transfer cities, transfer headlights, transfer moonshine, transfer what's mine and he's scared shared dared to think it's him but it's not, it was me, it was me chasing, it was me chasing the sting with the sweet, the lost with the heat, it was me chasing anything but what I'd been chasing. anything but the green-eyed prize that cared not when I cried, and when I say cried I mean tried, cause I thought it'd hurt more than it did! I thought it'd hurt more than I did when I stood on the street and thought **a heart breaking** and thought **a life changing** and thought of new horizons, watched his tears and thought **time taking** but thought (new horizons) and the tears I shed cast crowns. the tears I shed lay down on a bed of __seldom__ lay down on a bed of (boredom) cause pain it is monotonous but you've gone and learned a double twist, you did keep in touch, you tied the ties too taut til my freedom was strung up in the You up above! strung up in the You full of love while the haters they love not the love but the dove, chasing peace to the streets, chasing calls from the fleets, they hate the love I'd Love with, hate the dove I'd Shove with, cause you don't HEAR me. you don't hear me. don't hear how to sit there and be happy how to sit there and stay sappy how to sit there and grow strapping, you see, my obsession with dreams are obsessions with things I know not of, things I know caught the dove, things I bless with word of mouth. qwerty of mouth, drrty of mouth, sleight of hand, contraband, foreign land, you see, you don't hear how to sit there, in a car that drives countries, like a scar that knows plenty. if you knew the scars, knew the tar and the char, you'd tack its E back on like the ink into skin, tack its E back on like I forgot to say "when." so the scarE keeps on scarring and the stare keeps on marring all I'd worked to keep barring. and the fountains keep flowing and the sins they keep showing all you thought you were knowing but the passive aggression and neediness mentioned are lowing. lowing like the tide of what's true. lowing like red hair burned blue. lowing like my need has for you.

GTFO, Insecurity

that's all.

[oh, and as soon as I find the notebook that has my second spoken word poem in it....you'll have it!]

Aforementioned Goals for the Future

- get a degree or two
- travel tons. to the accessible places first
- buy my first car
- remember to forgive people as often as they forgive me. (I mean because that's a lot, not that I'll forgive them conditionally)
- memorize more poems to slam with
- write more poems to memorize
- babysit more babies. babies at all, really
- get back to reading books at a productive pace
- fall in like a few times
- let someone love me if the opportunity arises
- establish mix CD making as an official love language
- do crosswords
- learn how to play bass guitar
- find an excuse to play trombone regularly
- remember that worry is futile
- underoveranalyze. so.. plain analyze
- exercise often enough for it to be a habit
- row crew pleeeeeease
- line up future tattoos with future ventures
- figure out what I have to do to cash in on this God-given memo that He brought me home to be on firmer ground when he wrecks me somehow, whatever that means. I keep telling Him I'm not ready.... but I think I am. and if I am, He knows so. here goes nothing? here goes everything?

ROGO (Read One Get One)

a post twofer! as in PM thoughts followed by AM thoughts. as in perplexity followed by coherency.

I haven't seriously sat down to write in...long enough to recognize it in my heart rate. And I realize that sounds dramatic to those who don't process thoughts through words, but whenever I separate myself from writing down what I think about, I grow soundlessly closer to a panic attack. I don't speak much, and I don't make much eye contact. And you want to know what's wrong, and it's not what I'm feeling--it's that I don't know how to convey what I'm feeling.

Partly, I'm this weird fusion of the same person and a new person, and that fusion feels as though it's at a starting line. The same person, because my sense of humor is still hit and miss, and because I still deliberate over eeeverything, and because I still do little things... facial expressions, useless humming, make playful quips, talk too much. The same things show up in my current relationships. Noticing this helped define me, because I worried that I'd lost myself in trying to maintain what I had, but I don't think I ever did. I was never going to be the one to lose myself. In some weird paradoxical fashion, however, I became reacquainted with the person I was beforehand. The person I was this time four years ago. It was completely liberating, and it set a new foundation for all the growth I've been doing. Somehow I took everything--what was good about it, what was bad about it, what I expected, what I learned not to expect--and boiled it down into some sort of crash course for the future. And this is just how life chapters work, not some sort of breakthrough, but I'm thankful that this life chapter followed the life chapter pattern. I can build on what I've done.

Two things I'm thankful for: that heartbreak happened so early in my life. It's like I got my future back. So many goals arose (future post), and so much freedom blossomed. If I had stayed anchored for years longer... well, I just don't see why knowledge should be delayed at all. I may have been forced to gain it, but I did it before polishing off my second decade, and that makes me feel young and wild. In a respectable fashion, of course.

The second thing is the opportunity to go to New York this past year. I've wondered a little bit about how dynamic a freshman year in college is without first heartbreak. I'm pretty sure it's a poignant experience regardless. Additionally, living in New York in a poignant experience regardless. But to layer these things with a healing process is unreal. I spent the majority of the time reveling in realizations about other people as well as me. And I know we all know how wholeheartedly I thrive on realizations. If you could set me back in August of 2010 and tell me that I could only spend one year in New York out of my entire life, looking back, I wouldn't have placed it anywhere else.

I feel a little bit repetitive. This isn't new information to any of you, really. Especially if you've been reading. But as summer begins, back in Georgia, I feel like we can move on to the second installment of my life's film saga. You'll laugh, you'll cry, and hopefully you'll join me in anticipation of what's to come. I'll overpedal occasionally, maybe spin out of control... but that's more interesting than watching someone with training wheels.

Trav'lin On

and this is where the nights go

the nights go

the nights go

the chocolate cake and fights show

we think we know what sprites know

while laying in the grass

the sun goes down so stars shine

so stars shine

so stars shine

your careful heart, it mars mine

our fingers wrapped in weak twine

all circulation lost

when summer sets, the crows flee

the crows flee

the crows flee

they fly among the moons, free

beckoning my soul, "be

the spring that leaves the ground."

but over time, my words fray

my words fray

my words fray

love and war turn peace and play

fallen soldiers seize the day

their compass pointing north

Hangin' Out

Man, I should have posted sooner after the festival. I wanted to post every night, but pretty much collapsed every time I got back to the room. Definitely collapsed the third night as a result of the sun poisoning I got from being a sunscreen-less LOSER. At least the human body reacts poorly to harm. Learned my lesson. (though you'd think I would have from an earlier sunburn? yeah. same here.)

I feel like I learned a lot about myself and other people, but it's sort of a blur in hindsight. A few things:

--flying solo at festivals is underrated. go with people, but heck, break away. it's extremely freeing. as long as you can find them at the end of the day.

--aren't hippies grand?

--there is absolutely NO need to grind with your significant other during a DJ set. at least nowhere near me. seriously. stop it.

--people are still surprised when I start dancing, hehe

--electronica is so much better live!

--there are so. many. bad tattoos out there. but hey, everyone's a judge, and I know people get tattoos for their own reasons. I'm sure some people think mine is ridiculous. but man, I can't help but regret some other people's tattoos FOR them.

--Big Gigantic uses electronic saxophone. how epic?!

--listening right now. why do earbuds have such sucky bass?

I don't what to say other than how in place I felt at that festival for the majority of the time. I absolutely loved it. Nineteen shows, and that's only because I was slacking. It was quite a posh fest... no one camped, and that was reflected in the crowd. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing from my end against the Greek society scene. But this fest was a bit of a SBXI [Spring Break 2011] phase two. There were SO MANY Greeks. Way more girls at least than I think would have ever camped through, say, Bonnaroo or Sasquatch or Coachella or Wakarusa. But perhaps I underestimate them. Lord knows I wasn't taking my stay in a beach condo for granted. But I think I'll need to go to a few more different fests to get the real feel.

The Hangout was so easy to get to and had such a surprisingly good lineup that I'm strongly considering making it an annual venture. The Hangout's lineup is encompassed, I think entirely, by Bonnaroo's lineup, but The Hangout is still cheaper, and it's still on the sand. Two plusses in my book.

In conclusion, I have never been so excited for anything, and I mean this in the most genuine sense, as I am about attending the Dave Matthews Band Caravan at The Gorge in George, Washington. I'm killing three bucket list birds with one fest: go to Seattle? check. see a show at The Gorge? try, eh, fifteen or so. be my own Davehead? bam.

I need to find some wood to knock on, because I haven't actually purchased my ticket yet. Funds are tight. I just got back from a music festival if you're just now tuning in. But until I scrape it together-slash-someone finds it in their hearts to loan me a chunk, I'm trusting that God wants me to go to The Gorge. And if He doesn't, that He'll start getting used to the idea.

;)

You had me at Soup Dragons

Welcome to my newly discovered theme song! Leave it playing in the background as you read for maximum effect.

I mean really, what a killer video. I know! Let's film some girls chill dancin in front of psychedelic backdrops. Bada bing, bada boom, baby.

***

Is it possible to be on a self-awareness high? I keep thinking about that scene in American Beauty where the plastic bag is floating through the air and the voice over says that sometimes, the world is so beautiful, he aches. That is exactly how I feel. I've never even seen the full movie. But what an appropriately iconic scene.

I feel so great, I don't think I'm even conveying it properly in real life. I don't know if it's the summertime, or that I love driving, or that I love the radio, or that I love the sunshine, or that I love my family, or that I love my friends, or that I finally hammered the last nail in a boat full of memories that's sailing away, or that my tattoo is fantastic, or some combination thereof--but life is just flying right now.

I have so many thoughts and so much love for everything around me that I wonder if I'm accidentally prolonging some sort of hormone deficiency that depletes my cynicism.

I feel like I might bubble over.

Remember what I said about being ready to love someone? That someone (far far away in a land called the future) is gonna have to hang on to his hat... I don't think most are ready for the force of it. I think it stems from being excited to exhibit what I've learned. Like I've said, even some close friends don't actually want what they're getting themselves into. I don't know, maybe my zest is a euphemism for creepiness. Call it what you will, and then take it or leave it.

Scratch that. Just take it. :)

***

I just reread this post, and I sound like a crazy person. Haha!