Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Double D

I have that familiar feeling from when I was a kid and I'd get a new diary with a chintzy little lock and the first entry would say something along the lines of,

"I promise to write in you everyday!"

My next entry would be,

"I can't believe I haven't written in you for TWO WEEKS! I promise to write in you everyday from here on out!"


"I'm now 37 with two kids, diary, and I know I've said it before, but I PROMISE to write in you everyday!"

I think that struggle with my lame little diary has actually turned out to be a metaphor for my life. I'm full of the best intentions, but completely false promises.

Thursday, February 17, 2011


It's as though she were singing to me. Squares and rectangles cover the ground.

I've lost it all, I think to myself. In a space so small how do you lose it all? I'm not sure what I love anymore, just that one day it's supposed to make sense.

I wait for that day. I hold flowers for that day. Someone told me he loved me that day.

Feb 16

Rosebuds on the garbage can. Piano player and wood. Homemade biscuits, beer and conversation.

You'd be 35 soon. I'm breathing in the world thinking of you. I'm getting drunk thinking of you. I'm depressed thinking of you.

My life moves on. I try to take it in. The rosebud garbage cans, piano players, and wood.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Looking ahead

I'm looking for familiarity, she said.

Likewise, he said. Where are you looking?

All the wrong places... she pauses. The past, mainly.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

January 8th

We're still on the train. We've been looking out the windows these days. Watching the grey world fly by.

How odd a thing to get together to mourn the loss of someone you still can't believe is gone. I just kept thinking, someone's missing.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Hey it's Christmas

Everything feels wrong.

Focus on the positive. He's not in pain anymore. You're not moving forward without him, he's right there with you. Fuck you. Fuck that.

He's a little kid staring at the camera for his grade school photo. Each year as his teeth buck out further and his hair gets thicker, his smile gets smaller. He could have conquered the world, now he can hardly conquer elementary school.

I read a snippet of an interview. The person said each year the magic dies and the reality that the person won't jump out from behind a bush or meet you in the street becomes more real...

I'm tired. I'm always tired. I want to run and run and run and never stop.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Thank you

You're all around me, making each day a little easier.