Ω

How is it that we started this in the A.M. and now it's almost morning again? The hours escape us as we run, walk, and laugh underground. You can't trust anything in the dark. Leave us behind, waving to you as the bus pulls out of the station. Everybody leaves eventually.



I cannot walk through the suburbs in the solitude of the night without thinking that the night pleases us because it suppresses idle details, just as our memory does. ~Jorge Luis Borges

We're talking about how people undervalue themselves. That's what he thinks, so I ask him what is it that's so undervalued? What's so special within us that is worth but a tear? He says I need not to think about the great picture but focus for an instant or two on the scene at hand, where two people sit, undisturbed and removed from the world around them. As I begin to describe these two human beings that I deemed as being futile, I realize that I am talking about something. When you examine each detail for what it is, then step back a moment to appreciate the piece as a whole, you realize that the something you're staring at is two million butterflies. Precisely, he agrees. A person is not a butterfly, because then its beauty would be lost in the world it has to share with millions of others just like it.

Beneath my skin, there lie secrets dark enough to blacken the heavens. will you be there to listen, keep your words quiet, and hear the whispering and the whimpering of countless winter afternoons? Can I count on you to drown in the serenity I will bare to you. I will count your breaths, three, two, none, and we'll lie lifeless in silence, and the chaos which preceded us will be but a memory that will die with us, greatest secret never told.

Think of this moment as a singularity,
we stand together in arm's reach, in a dream lost in time,
we occupy no space.
I breathe you in, as I inhale the heavy air
and look into your eyes, their shine obscured by the ether that surrounds us
All is quiet and I listen for the echo of your responsive exhale
lost in the infinite density of this moment.

I know not what you ask of me,
nor where you will lead me
but I lean in close to listen to your words,
feel them fall against my skin.

You look mighty small from up here,
this grandeur gives me control

No limit to what you and I will find here.
From this instant, we are driven apart by forces beyond our comprehension,
by laws that govern our entire existence
anything that's written on paper is simple
the formula of our destruction,
the variables of our life that when multiplied by each other
result in the greatest harmony ever sung,
and if the physical laws of the universe tell us otherwise,
I'll laugh as we crumble in the face of the truth,
as we are thrown away from each other at speeds incomprehensible
Yell a final 'goodbye', as I am stretched across the planes of forever,
A desolate 'farewell' resonates in the distant supernovas
Our adieu is eternally unrequited.
I shut my eyes and awaken in a new time
to hear a faint hello;
yesterday's misery announces its arrival.

"Tongue in cheek till a hole burns out her mouth,
And fingers crossed like the promise of cub scouts,
And we know that the picture in her heart shaped locket,
Is far from an inanimate object.
She's as dark as the blood pulsing under her skin,
Still afraid of the boogey man under her bed,
And we know that the ashes in the urn was a person,
And we never should have burned him.
...
I caught her cornering the pictures in her purse,
A white reflection of the window of his hearse,
And she knows not to be another wife in waiting,
So she's just a widow that I'm dating.
Rolled up sleeves with a carton in it's fold,
A rusted chain with a cross that once was gold,
And I look from a distance as the coffin closes,
And disappears below the roses."

"And if i had something to say to you I'd whisper it softly,
Kiss you on your rosey lips and never let you off me.
Shiver on your roof and see your face lit by starlight,
Hold you through the night and watch that Colorado sunrise
...
And as long as it's okay with you I think I'll stay right here.
I got no where to go 'cause where to go is up to you, dear.
Happy as a clam I see the glimmer in your eyes.
Hold you through the night and watch that Colorado sunrise.

No car and never cared cared because I got no place to go.
But in a room missing a wall,
I couldn't pay a plant to grow
You can try and make this pretty, pick up all my dirty clothes.
And if you never really get me then I guess you'll never know the trainwreck that I am."

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another 'til I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”

Unless you have something to give, people have no interest in you. Only if you have something to offer will anyone care about you. Every relationship is based purely on what the two people can benefit from each other. People will forget about you if they can't use you. This is madness.

So what can I do but recluse myself from the conversation, silent in a sea of intolerable chatter, and just think about how cute it is for the both of them. A ring stuck on her less than graceful index finger, on a hand where every third phalanx is bejeweled by a stone, leading to an equally bedazzling bracelet and watch on her wrists. I examine her hair, the way it's mostly loose curles with her bangs perfectly placed on either side of her head, framing her face that is flooded with bronzer so much that her skin colour is many shades away from her natural tone. Her eyes, darkened with the wrong shade of lilac that mixes with her olive-tinted skin tone to create a less than flattering colour, and as she lifts her head to look at me across the table, all I see is helplessness as her eyes droop out of exhaustion and I look deep inside them to find the friend I used to have, the person she used to be until the world fucked her over. Her smile is crooked and when she laughs, she reveals to the world teeth so imperfect that it's hard not to stare. A toxic mixture of hairspray and cigarette smoke follows her as she travels in and out of the restaurant to answer her Blackberry that is persistently ringing, someone is always waiting on the other line for her to pick up and I'm really trying to indentify the attractive forces she posesses. And I think, is it in her undeniable humour, the way she makes everyone feel special when she says 'hello'...? I must admit that I'm quite lost trying to pinpoint what it is she has that I lack in extreme proportions, but I'm desperate to find something to focus my building jealousy on. He came to see her, and when I got nervous and happy that he was there and for maybe a moment or two, his eyes would focus on me and ...? But he stuck around, congratulated her and I couldn't watch so I listened as they joked around and talked about things that don't concern me. He's 2 years her juniour. I knew that. What am I looking for here? Just like Klosterman, I know that no person will ever satisfy me and I'm okay with that because I know I will never satisfy anybody. So I think about for a moment or two, decide that I wasn't hoping for much anyway and so it's ok that he gave her that precious ring that belonged to his grandfather. I can't help but to let out a confused sigh and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me.
I am sinking deeper and deeper into an existence that is unheard, unseen and unknown... I really must get myself out of here as quickly as possible. Finished with these disrespectful and discriminating people who proclaim themselves as being 'important' and whore and fuck and screw around with anyone, in a neverending competition for attention, perferrably bad attention. I am so done with this town, it's unbelievable. Take back your foolish attempts at consideration, calm down and suck it up. When the lights have dimmed and the chairs have emptied, there will be no one to watch you cry or listen to what you have to say.
I think about how I miss people so much it physically hurts, and again about how none of them would ever give two shits about me. I think about people who have moved on and have more fun with other people. I think about how high school has been going for much too long and I am overwhelmingly excited about university. I think about the people I won't talk to anymore, and again about the people who won't talk to me. I think about the good times I had last year and about how almost every conversation seems to start with 'Hey, remember when...' because it is obvious that the moments that have passed are most treasured. I think about how at almost 18, I still think about dissolving into the background, disintegrating into the puddles of early December rain water. I think about the future, 7 months ahead into 2010 when I can drop everything and run, run, run and run some more, away from all this stupidity that is the source of my greatest discontent. I think about the possibility of nothing changing come the summertime, and the commencement of university being the strangest day of my life. I think about how nothing works out in life. I think about how I have never had the will to live. I think about how peaceful it would be to just pass, on and away, into the unknown.

So a few days ago, I mentally returned from a vacation to this town and just a few moments ago, I realized that I'm going through yet another psychosis. I see this train coming at me, racing down a fized track where it will reach me, a collision written in the stars, and I will once again see things through a haze. The voice tells me it's 10:34PM, and that they're live to air from a certain nightclub until 2AM, every Sunday and then her voice trails off as I shut off the annoying radio, irritated by the constant drone it creates in this room. At the same time, I find it incredibly strange sitting alone in a room, staring blankly at nothing while my fingers move up and down,in sync with the thoughts in my head...It's the 22nd of November, 2009 but what does that mean, really? Nothing. A few days ago I remember sitting in a Japanese restaurant with two people who were concealing a secret from me. They eventually confessed and it was through that revelation that I deducted; I have, once again, done things backwards. So then this led me to wonder what I had done to induce such things, so many times over. It's always the wrong damn person who falls for me as I chase someone else. Don't you get it, I will never like you in that way, and I don't know what I do to make all these people think I am interested in being anything more than friends with them. What the fuck? No, it's honestly frustrating to have to hurt people's feelings and say, sorry, but I feel nothing for you and I can guarantee that I never will, and then end up having to go through that same conversation again with someone else a little while after. I don't even think I feel horrible this time around. You can't force people to do anything. I don't choose what I feel. So what there's people waiting right here beside me but all I see is the one so far away that only my apt eye would catch his glances and smiles? So what if I know I'll reject his love as well, so what if the minute he turns around to me I brush him off like he wasn't even there? So what if I want to do this the hard way? I'll never be happy, I'll never be satisfied. I've paved my own way to hell and now that I can accept that, I can sit back and enjoy the walk to destruction. I look for excuses out of loving people...but really, it's not that hard because often times people set themselves up for rejection. It's far too easy to reject your calls and does it mean anhything to you that I can just hang up on you with out thinking about it twice? How many ways can you tell someone to leave you alone? What else can I say, besides 'stop calling', 'leave me alone', 'get a life', 'find something better to do', 'okay, thanks, bye'..?! So I don't know what to do now. It's kind of a slutty dress, a deep v-neck exposing my sternum and thoracic ribs where a cleavage ought to be. I haven't been taking my vitamin supplements for the last couple of days. Not because I don't want to, it just seems to slip my mind. Between finishing a presentation on *, making a joint and composing a fable, it's understandable that little things like eating and sleeping lose their place in my mind and blend into the world of forgotten necessities. I've got to get it off my mind that I feel nothing. This universe, this galaxy, this solar system, this planet, this country, this province, this town, this street, this house, this room, this chair, these clothes are all things I am aware of yet they don't mean anything. It's 11:15PM and I'm playing with a rubber band and wasting staples, destroying things that people use to keep other things from getting lost: note the irony. This is exactly as I had described it two years ago. There's nothing here, the life in me has vanished, stolen by another dimension and though you can easily locate my postion on a map, you have to realize that geographical position means nothing because when we exist, we exist on a higher level, yet it is just as chaotic up here. A stream of consciousness only comprehendable by those who supply it with the water it requires to ebb and flow, occasionally splashing over onto the pavement as your shadow. I hear laughter echoing in the distance. My body is tired and I can no longer focus my eyes. Despite the rest of my body preparing itself for slumber, my mind is dimensions away and it knows no time or space so I sit here, breathe slowly with a smirk on my face. My dad asked me why I was smiling earlier this evening, as if there should be a reason. Bliss requires no explanation beause it is through the rationalization of happiness that we see there is no reason to be happy. The truth is naked, cold and sad, but as much as I try to control the muscles in my face, I smile blindly for quite simply no reason at all.

This has been one of the saddest weeks I have ever lived through. There was too many tears in too many people's eyes and a visible dark gloom hung in the air.
I had been feeling different for a while as if that haircut gave me a new identity. Everything got to my head it seems and it took all of this to get me back to what I'm used to; deep, melancholic lyrics and a constant tie in the stomach and lump in the throat, all while appreciating anyone who's willing give me a smile.
So I feel like I'm back. I want to cry some more, hug anyone who's willing to hold me and brighten my own day when the sun fails to deliver.


Somewhere along the way, my hopefulness turned to sadness,
Somewhere along the way, my sadness turned to bitterness,
Somewhere along the way, my bitterness turned to anger,
Somewhere along the way, my anger turned to vengeance.

And the ones that I made pay were never the ones who deserved it,
And the ones who deserved it, they'll never understand it,

How could you be so perfect for me?
Why can't you ignore the things I did before?

Somewhere along the way, exacting vengeance gave excitement,
Somewhere along the way, that excitement turned to pleasure,
Somewhere along the way, that pleasure turned to madness,
Sooner or later that kind of madness turns into pain.

Together we'll sing songs and tell exaggerated stories,
About the way we feel today in the night and in the morning.

Take all your fears, pretend they're all true,
Take all your plans, pretend they fell through.
But that's what it's like,
That's what it's like for most people in this world.
.
Did I say that I need you?
Did I say that I want you?
What if I did and I'm a fool you see
No one knows this more than me
'cause I come clean

Hold me till I die
Meet you on the other side

It's because I know that I don't deserve a second chance. I'm not worth persistent kindness and as I try to focus my eyes on your name flashing on the bottom of the screen, I get nervous all over again. Why would someone like you be interested in my well-being? My fingers fumble accross the keyboard, shaking with the nervosity of making a typing error and looking like an idiot. I craft each message so that I keep you talking, attempting to avert the focus from me to you because I'm trying so hard not to look as selfish as I really have been. So you say you'll be right back, you need to check up on the score of the Raptor's game and I sit and count my breaths, trying to imagine your actions as your fingers leave the keyboard, my foot bouncing up and down because it's been 3 minutes, 4 minutes, 5 minutes since your last message. You return and we continue this small-talk, out responses are rusted with time. I can't bare this conversing any longer so I say I should really get to bed, I must avoid being late for class, but both you and I know that I won't be going to sleep anytime soon. You wish me well and I hold my breath as I watch the little bar at the bottom of the screen that says 'blankk is writing a message...', my shame grows because I know exactly what you're going to say next. You say that it was nice talking to me and I say okay, wish you goodnight and I tell you I'll see you around. You say sure thing, because you know as well as I do that never keep a promise and that if my past behaviour is any indication, I'll be avoiding your stare and we won't talk again until the next time I cross your mind and you wonder, how have I been lately? So here's to you, and every other person who has had the decency to after 3 years, keep genuine interest in me even after all the shit I've thrown at the people who least deserve it.
I've found myself in a position that I can't quite map out. What I thought was a direct path has rerouted into an abyss and I'm back to where I began. Lost, lethargic and let down, I fight to keep my eye lids open and I force myself to pull back the corners of my mouth and pose for this frame. It's the beginning of another end, the worst of the worst, and I can't contain my distaste for everthing this picture will represent in the future but I'll find it within me to stop myself from expressing in detail the magnitude of this dissent.

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you incessantly from the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes,
Looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you?

Oh, does he know that place below your neck is your favorite to be touched?
And does he cry through broken sentences like, "I love you far too much"?

Does he lay awake listening to your breath, worried you smoke too many cigarettes?
Is he coughing now on a bathroom floor?
For every speck of tile there's a thousand more
You won't ever see, but must hold inside yourself eternally.

Well, I drug your ghost across the country and we plotted out my death.
In every city, memories would whisper "Here is where you rest..."
I was determined in Chicago but I dug my teeth into my knees
And I settled for a telephone, sang into your machine:
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,"

And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw that her father gave to her
She had eyes bright enough to burn me,
They reminded me of yours.

And in a story told, she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field
And there were rows of ripe tomatoes where a secret was concealed
And it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands
And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry's end
Where I wrote: "You make me happy, when skies are gray
You make me happy, oh, when skies are gray
They're gray and gray,"

Well, the clock's heart, it hangs inside its open chest with its hands stretched outward
The calendar hanging itself
But I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who left, there's a few that stayed
And they found me here and pulled me from the grass where I was laid...