...the nighttime here is a plastic box. you can amplify the basement rock...
10-23-01 2:19am
this poem is from about 2 weeks ago. I was reflecting on my life that day. I dont claim to be a poet, any poetry i write, which is VERY rarely, isnt too well thought out. mostly blibberblabber! haha thar she blows:
my body is numb with displeasure. i wont croak. why will it continue if things persist to get worse?
it must happen: it always happens.
repition is key, i hope it ends. through this i want life.
life is key, repition is my death.
it comes each time, but i won't, i cannot.
death is key, repition is not, life is not.
it is my exit from numbness.
my body aches, muscles tense, my throat runs dry, i shake and hurt. when will it all stop.
my eyes grow tired of repition, my mind suffers.
im not special, but i have feelings. this poem sucks.
2:26am
i walked outside and daniel was there, he liked my hair too, that was odd b/c he usually doesnt agree with changing my hair color, he really likes my brown hair. and he felt it, and noticed there was a little brown left underneath, so we walked through my dreamlike industrial type neighborhood, like big power plants everywhere, and about 300 feet away was a monkey's to go, where daniel and i walked to get me some more manic panic, but instead it was a purple/blue mix, daniel liked the idea of adding more color to my hair, in my dream. as i reflect, i kinda wish i had my hair like that, it was quite spunky, haha. but i am pleased with my hair, though i wish i could jazz it up, but it is almost illegal to dye my hair some funky color in my house, my parents wouldnt allow it...rules rules rules! arrgh ciao 2:00 am
