deep down, i know that it's not so much the time that i miss, but the simplicity of life.  it seems a year and a half ago, everything felt closer to my fingertips.  now, the world seems large and all-consuming.  not that's a bad thing.  but this world is a place that will eat you half-dreaming, and spit you out for the bad aftertaste.  i miss those friends, those late nights, those times when you didn't need to worry about anything: your body, your future, whatever.  the future seemed so vast.  now it sometimes seems a barren empty spot of nothing.  

the lunar eclipse is tonight.  it's beautiful.  it looks like a burnt penny.  sights like that make me wonder if recapturing that sense of the infinite is plausible.  i read all these books, talk to all these people, and they all tell me: yes, it is.  but in the end, sometimes i'm just a poet who doesn't want to believe the good in life.  i'm the one who reads robert frost as a suicide not e: he just couldn't muster the courage to say it aloud.

But aren't we all afraid of that?  I've been dating Tommy for a while now, and yet the other night I came out with one of  those deep thoughts that I usually confine to the privacy of my own brain: there it rollicks about to and fro lapping at my occipital lobe until I can't do anything but let the tears flow.  (oh jeez louise, sometimes i try way too hard to be poetic).  And yet, even though I know he'd be comfortable with my random moment of passion, I found myself retreating to a shell, blushing as though i had just told him 'i love you' for the first time."

Now, I can't wait for the Academy Awards.  I know it's cheesy, but it reminds me of the human spirit, the dreams we all once had, and it's pure, for me at least.

i'm so lame.  sometimes.

but others...i'm the baddest motherfucker who don't take no crap from nobody.