Hello??....Anyone still here?
Simon & Garfunkel - Sounds of Silence.
Excellent song.
Anyway, I know it's been..well..forever- I almost feel guilty for not writing all summer- but hey, when all you've got is dialup to work with, it kinda puts a cap on your modivation to get online and post something that's in your head RIGHT THIS SECOND. Thank GOD for cable. For those of you who've so dutifully checked this site in hopes of getting an update on what the hell is going on in my life- your patience has finally paid off! (bye the way, I don't expect anyone to still be reading this thing- which is good I guess, 'cause now I can go back to writing about stuff thats really on my mind without having to concern myself about who's gonna see it).
I moved into my apartment with possibly the two coolest people in the world. I love my roommates so much- last night we all managed to migrate to my room and spent about an hour and a half discussing *gasp*--- relationships. But it was cool though- it had interesting twists in it, seeing as one of my roommates is a guy...and anyway, poo on that topic (it's not a fun one to discuss when you're the only one who's not completely smitten with someone of the oppsite sex).
Well, it's cold as hell in here and the only way to fix that is to go take a really nice hot shower...ahhh...so I'm cutting this first entry, re-entry a little short. Have a good weekend kids.
-Char

Afterwards, the compromise.
Bodies resume their boundaries.

These legs, for instance, mine.
Your arms take you back in.

Spoons of our fingers, lips
admit their ownership.

The bedding yawns, a door
blows aimlessly ajar.

and overhead, a plane
singsongs coming down.

Nothing is changed, except
there was a moment when

the wolf, the mongering wolf
who stands outside the self

lay lightly down, and slept.

Happiness is what we fear most,
Peace somehow a luxury which we feel we cannot afford.

I hate Relationships. Even when you're not in one they manage to fuck your shit.

It's hard to drive with a multi-colored moon at your back,
Weaving gently through coughing thoughts of purple.
Her face is framed with endless thoughts of-
Nothing but twisting clouds of burning smoke,
Obscuring the vision of her orange sun in the rear-view mirror.

Oh, Johnny wishes he was famous,
Spends his time alone in the basement,
With Lennon and Cobain and,
A guitar and a stereo.

And while he wishes he could escape this,
But it all seems so contagious,
Not to be yourself and faceless,
And a song that has no soul.

Every once in a while I lock myself in my room solely lit by five or sit candles, and just sit. I turn on music I can never really hear, and just exist in some sort of alternative universe where everything doesn't really look the same but sill seems mildly familiar enough to let everything go. Candles have some weird trembling light that never stays still...it flickers; vibrating shadows of honey colored walls and making every object in the room seem fuller-
-Solid, yet moving.... and stable.
It's almost like walking into your room after an earthquake, and everything's moved exactly three inches to the left. It's different.
I don't really know what I do in there...I seem to lock my conscious mind out of the room with everything else.
I feel like I'm recreating something.
Whether or not I'm actually successful is something I'm not entirely aware of, but I must have some reason for doing it, even if I'm not really sure what it is.

I miss my handwriting.
I feel like there's something lost in the message of someone’s work if it's typed-
Don't get me wrong; I'd never give up being able to put everything down almost as fast as I can think of it-
But there's so much feeling you can see in someone’s penmanship...
It's strange.

I can't believe I'm here again-
Lying awake at 3 a.m.
I feel transparent,
Incoherent,
Who could know it'd last this long?
This situation fits me perfectly,
Blink-
Focus,
And I still can't see,
What the hell have you done to me?
I don't play those games anymore,
It's shit like this I hate crying for,
Frustrated,
Manipulated,
& fucked with twice before.