possibility

Mom came home from the doctor last night and gave me a survey to fill out. Some of the questions were like, "Do you often wonder what will happen after you die?" Yes, who doesn't? I thought. "When you wake up in the morning, do you often dread facing the day?" Again, I wondered who didn't from time to time. (Then I realized that I do almost every day..) The questions went on to ask, "You over-analyze everything and automatically think the worst." Absolutely, I thought. Towards the bottom of the paper, after I had (seriously) answered yes to all of the questions, the words stared up at me as if the answer had been there all along:

"If you answered yes to more than 3 of these questions, there is an increased possibility that you are suffering from clinical depression."

..I wasn't surprised. And it didn't really bother me as much as it probably should have. Then I thought about it. Without depression, without insanity, without all out madness, the world would be a very boring place. Some of the best artists and musicians have been crazy. So maybe sometimes when I wake up with the sinking feeling in my chest, it's a gift. Bless this mess.

I turn the lights out
I clean the sheets
You change the station
Turn up the heat

In the dark you tell me of a flower
that only blooms in the violet hour

Richie Blackwell, I love you. Thank you for standing by my side, even though I'm a crazy mess of emotion and unpredictable thought.

..

i miss my dad.

tiny

I edited Kayla's art copy yesterday, and it made me want to go back (despite Mrs. Goodnight's outbursts.) I can't wait for Art 2 next semester.

I started my internship at the Dispatch this past Tuesday, it was so much fun. I learned a lot about constructing the templates, and that the lead story always gets the larger headline while the art dominates the page, etc. I'm hoping that they'll consider me for hire after college.

Speaking of which, I still haven't heard from Guilford Tech about my transcript.

For some reason, I feel like Karen Parks is probably to blame for that..

wishlist. second edition

i have one of these about every six months, and its time again!
some of these are home oriented, since we're getting an apartment in february.

.

i embrace your body,
warm with sleep
as
the
gray
october light crawls through
the windows
you swim from the bottom of
your heavy black rest
and
you
are
conscious enough to crack a smile.
i drag myself from under the quilts
and greet our tiny home with
a haggard stretch.
the white clouds surface
in our strong coffee
as the smell of my acrylics
waft through the house from
the night before.
i peel an orange for you
as the sound of headlines
fill the room. i turn,
and there you're standing
b e a u t i f u l
with the morning,
and you smile
and we kiss.

my heart was locked,
you had the key.

milk and christ

the milk is traced
with drugs

so we aren't bigger

he went to prison
and got out after three days passed

went back to the life he knew
where

the milk is traced
with drugs

new ink

eighteen is coming so soon, i've finally saved up enough money for this. it will be on my inner left arm. below my wrist. of course it'll have to be downsized. the session will probably take two hours or more, but i'm so excited.

outer space

do you realize that you have the most beautiful face?
do you realize we're floating in space?
do you realize that happiness makes you cry?
do you realize that everyone you know will someday die?

hide and seek.

where are we?
what is going on?
the dust has only just begun to form
crop circles in the carpet
sinking feeling

ransom notes keep falling out of your mouth
mid sweet-talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling, I don't believe you.

i.h