August 27, 2012

Hasn't the time come, once again, not to talk about it?

Stephen Dunn

August 26, 2012



I'm all settled in back in Brooklyn. I think I've developed a bit of emotional whiplash from so much staying and leaving.

Regardless.

I feel like myself here. As Stephen Dunn wrote, "I think from this distance."



August 24, 2012

August 20, 2012

August 19, 2012

The Party To Which You Are Not Invited.

You walk in, your clothes dark
and strangely appropriate, an arrogance
about you as if you had a ramrod for a spine. You feel posture-perfect.

When you speak, women move away.
You smile, and men see tombstones.
They think they know who you are,
that they could throw you out

as they could one man. But today you are 
every man who has been omitted
from any list: how quickly they see
they would have no chance.

You pour yourself a drink,
as if ready to become one of them.
Under your skin, nerve endings, loose
wires, almost perceivable. Something

somewhere is burning. You tell them
you've dreamed of moments like this,
to be in their lovely house,
to have everyone's attention. You ask

of the children, are they napping?
You extend your hand to the host,
who won't take it, reminds you
you were not invited, never will be.

You have things in your pockets
for everybody. House gifts.
Soon you'll give them out.
If only they could understand

how you could be ruined 
by kindness, how much
you could love them
if they knew how to stop you.

-Stephen Dunn

August 14, 2012

Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other. 

I have been alone while I was with many girls and that is the way that you can be most lonely.

Ernest Hemingway.


August 13, 2012

August 11, 2012


"(You have ghosts?)"
"(Of course I have ghosts)"
"(What are your ghosts like?)"
"(They are on the insides of the lids of my eyes)"
"(This is also where my ghosts reside)"
"(You have ghosts?)"
"(Of course I have ghosts)"
"(But you are a child)"
"(I am not a child)"
"(But you have not known love)"
"(These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love)."


Jonathan Safran Foer

August 9, 2012

I turned 19 today. That was nice.
Uneventful, the way I wanted it to be.
My whole family got to be together for an hour, at dinner.
I spent the morning with my mum, and the evening with my brothers.
And all the in between times, with my dad and sister, or Sunni.
Been listening to Sam Cooke, and letting it be ok that things aren't perfect, and neither am I.


August 8, 2012

August 6, 2012

sometimes, the thing to do is cry in a Waffle House booth at one in the morning.
sometimes, that's going to be enough.



August 5, 2012

It Wasn't Me.



It doesn't count cause I don't care.


Fed up of girls in pretty dresses
with boys who want to teach them a lesson.


Camera Obscura

August 1, 2012

"Who cares,"
he muttered
acidic,
a cynic.

The fool
sticks out his tongue
and gyrates
in my direction.

Carping.

Inside aspergillus moldy
walls, lay the costumes of
all the people
we'd have liked to've been.

Beyond simplicities,
and beyond kindnesses,
he thinks I'm-
pretty.

That seems most important.



(Anna Karina).


(JGL by Vogue).