Sunday, April 13, 2014

The value, again

Do I ponder over values for my sake or yours, the reader's?
I take up a language to fit the speech.
This is where I left off, I suppose, but at some future point I suppose I could quit skedalying over these things, and move to others. I try to get the envisioned reader on board, but I end up sometimes just getting myself bored. Well I suppose every writer must "find his voice", but I suppose it's sometimes a frustrating debacle.
"Oh, do you read Crouse? No? Then you have no idea what he meant by line three in blog X."
So.
It's not just finding some voice, it's writing enough that you feel confident that you'll be understood. But then maybe you won't be after all. You'll be taken out of context. But, maybe the things you want to say really aren't that difficult to understand, and if you could just say them straight up, it'd be just as well.
I don't read anyone else. I have enough on my plate as it is, trying to understand my own experience of life.

I did

I did physics for a bit because it was fun
And then it wasn't, so I stopped

Friday, February 7, 2014

more stuff

[[[[[
And at this point, now that I've gone and said everything I've said, with no responses…

MORE STUFF


I still think, "hey wait, I mean, this is all just, I mean I just said a bunch of stuff, you know, there's no reason why we couldn't just pick back up at 'hello i hardly know you' and continue to get to know one another." I mean there's no, I mean I can't see any reason why we couldn't. It's not like I broke anything? It's not like you were depending on me to be reasonable?

Like how could you ever depend on me for anything?

It's just this, "I pressure you" situation. And I really think the heart of that is a miscommunication.
All of your "well what am I supposed to say to THAT", well, I mean I never expected anything but a natural response. E.g., "That's weird." or something like that.

but if the reason for your inability to respond is because you were affected in a way that caused internal conflict. I can totally understand that. You want to be honest, but you don't want to hurt my feelings. I think that ties in to the bigger picture.

I think perhaps some of the stuff I've said may have played on your heart in an uncomfortable manner. I'm sorry for the discomfort, but I had to say what I said when I did. I just can't find a workaround for that.


I've said a lot already. I suppose the main point is that I'm still here. And I guess if you just don't say anything, I'll be motivated to think more, about what else I could say, or how else I could say it. But then that would just lead to more writing of these messages, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. Always, in the interim, my life grows dull.
I'm toootally open to your input. Stop letting me bother you? Let me know what you'd prefer?

]]]]]

Friday, January 10, 2014

who

no one throws himself into hell
just to do it


there's a slew of upper level wishes
this lower level wish cannot comply with


everyone faces a challenge, repeat
everyone faces a challenge

 guess I'll be trying to make sense of me for others forever

Thursday, January 9, 2014

breadcrumbs

You didn't care to follow the trail of breadcrumbs that I left
So I threw a loaf at you
You didn't much enjoy that

Monday, January 6, 2014

~~~~~

God dammit, again.
Excessive, eh?
I can hold my tongue for a little while, but
what is this feeling building in my gut?

Sitting alone all day,
it's sad.
It's only sad because I wanted to do things.
But now I'm stuck.
Fuck.

But honestly, I feel like nothing is going to come across right.
Dammit.


Excessive.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

...

love for the sake of loving— knows no bounds
and neither does the pain of being denied

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Between moments and thought

Nothing is sufficient, nothing explains
Every moment, a list of things I could say
Every moment the list is changing

There are a few things I can hold on to for weeks
Hope of love is one
But even that tends to die

Every day, a book. Every day a book.
And she cannot read this book.
But I feel that transference should occur.
Maybe she could read it in my face, or my voice.
But she seems disinterested.

For each moment, a filter over my speech.
A different filter for a different set of ears.
But I wish that I could say everything,
but no one is that interested,
no one has that kind of time.