I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
T.S. Eliot
I just think this is really appropriate where I am.
Waiting, happily with my eyes shut.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
In the Spirit of Starbuck's new consumerist slogan of "wish".
I wish that LOST was back.
I wish that there were no football.
I wish that MK would come find me and say, Yes I've always been in love with you, and when we stare at each other across the courtyard, it has made me write a masterpiece.
I wish for A's.
I wish for twelve dollars an hour.
I wish for no headache to keep living in me.
But in general, I am counting my blessings.
Such as the Lord, and how He provides. Such as dates. Such as Thanksgiving break. Such as not starving to death. Music. Health Insurance. Loving glances from girls in pea coats. A father who is a comrade. And brand new socks.
I wish that LOST was back.
I wish that there were no football.
I wish that MK would come find me and say, Yes I've always been in love with you, and when we stare at each other across the courtyard, it has made me write a masterpiece.
I wish for A's.
I wish for twelve dollars an hour.
I wish for no headache to keep living in me.
But in general, I am counting my blessings.
Such as the Lord, and how He provides. Such as dates. Such as Thanksgiving break. Such as not starving to death. Music. Health Insurance. Loving glances from girls in pea coats. A father who is a comrade. And brand new socks.
"Every time you blink, it looks like you are taking a nap."
-Emily
Sometimes there are surprisingly good ends to days that started out really awful.
"Yes and no, you have to choose, Romeo and Juliet: the hangman and the noose. You and me would go good together."
-Dave Matthews. Sometimes shared between me and a very good friend.
-Emily
Sometimes there are surprisingly good ends to days that started out really awful.
"Yes and no, you have to choose, Romeo and Juliet: the hangman and the noose. You and me would go good together."
-Dave Matthews. Sometimes shared between me and a very good friend.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Ben Dory's dad was J.D.
He still is. He was like, uncle J.D. to me back then, though. He was really cool. My dad would make fun of him, because he had a ponytail. But they were the same age, and I think J.D. wore a leather jacket. But for sure I know he had a ponytail and rode a motorcycle. I remember him giving us rides on the motorcycle at probably midnight. Or it felt like midnight when you're five.
And once, he took Ben and I to his work with him, where he made robots, and one of them started moving towards us while he was in the bathroom and we fuhreaked out.
J.D.'s still married to Lisa, the feminist. Ben's mom. She would let her leg hair grow out and bleach it. Which seems like more work to me then shaving. But one time, she drank some coke on the beach, and a bee was in the coke can, and she got stung.
She cleaned both my mouth, and Ben's mouth out for saying Shut Up to the dog next door. She's a good mom.
I'm pretty nervous to ever leave my room.
9 days left of hell.
He still is. He was like, uncle J.D. to me back then, though. He was really cool. My dad would make fun of him, because he had a ponytail. But they were the same age, and I think J.D. wore a leather jacket. But for sure I know he had a ponytail and rode a motorcycle. I remember him giving us rides on the motorcycle at probably midnight. Or it felt like midnight when you're five.
And once, he took Ben and I to his work with him, where he made robots, and one of them started moving towards us while he was in the bathroom and we fuhreaked out.
J.D.'s still married to Lisa, the feminist. Ben's mom. She would let her leg hair grow out and bleach it. Which seems like more work to me then shaving. But one time, she drank some coke on the beach, and a bee was in the coke can, and she got stung.
She cleaned both my mouth, and Ben's mouth out for saying Shut Up to the dog next door. She's a good mom.
I'm pretty nervous to ever leave my room.
9 days left of hell.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
I woke up in a hospital, surrounded by men poking at my love-handles.
You are not supposed to believe though, in love-handles, if you work at a hospital. It's just fat. Just surrounding your waste.
Just providing warmth for the winter.
I let my arm fall over the side of the bed, hoping at any moment, they might raise the head-of-the-bed, so I could sit up. CAN'T MOVE. Hope they bring me a Sprite with a straw in it, hope they turn the channel on the TV to watch TLC. Need to know what not to wear.
He kneels next to the bed, one of the doctors, and they could all follow suit, but they watch to see how it plays out for him.
He asks me, respectively, on a date, on downtown to a restaurant I don't know about. So fancy. He is thinking in his mind, "She will be my lunch Ho." But doesn't say it out loud. Or maybe I am thinking the words lunch ho, because it sounds funny, even makes me laugh, even if that is not the phrase he is thinking for me. Scrunch my eyes. Maybe he is thinking girlfriend, by accident.
"I have so many boyfriends," I tell him, still thinking it'd be nice to be a lunch ho, and how long could I keep that up and still get my homework done for class each week.
He's weakened, but not deterred, because he has my chart in his hand. Could tell me anything, and I'd believe it because of dark framed glasses and Rolex watch. Could tell me brain cancer. Could tell me diabetes, which wouldn't be a big surprise.
But instead I stare out the window, thinking of Ben Dory. Racing for Teenage Mutant Ninja cereal bowls in the morning. Lucky charms mixed with cheerios. Forest Fire Fighter. First love. And the doctor coughs. Doctor Handsome I Read Books.
Doctor lock the door at night.
Doctor give me an answer.
But I am a naked hospital gown person. Can't promise anything before morning pancakes.
Can't
promise
squat.
You are not supposed to believe though, in love-handles, if you work at a hospital. It's just fat. Just surrounding your waste.
Just providing warmth for the winter.
I let my arm fall over the side of the bed, hoping at any moment, they might raise the head-of-the-bed, so I could sit up. CAN'T MOVE. Hope they bring me a Sprite with a straw in it, hope they turn the channel on the TV to watch TLC. Need to know what not to wear.
He kneels next to the bed, one of the doctors, and they could all follow suit, but they watch to see how it plays out for him.
He asks me, respectively, on a date, on downtown to a restaurant I don't know about. So fancy. He is thinking in his mind, "She will be my lunch Ho." But doesn't say it out loud. Or maybe I am thinking the words lunch ho, because it sounds funny, even makes me laugh, even if that is not the phrase he is thinking for me. Scrunch my eyes. Maybe he is thinking girlfriend, by accident.
"I have so many boyfriends," I tell him, still thinking it'd be nice to be a lunch ho, and how long could I keep that up and still get my homework done for class each week.
He's weakened, but not deterred, because he has my chart in his hand. Could tell me anything, and I'd believe it because of dark framed glasses and Rolex watch. Could tell me brain cancer. Could tell me diabetes, which wouldn't be a big surprise.
But instead I stare out the window, thinking of Ben Dory. Racing for Teenage Mutant Ninja cereal bowls in the morning. Lucky charms mixed with cheerios. Forest Fire Fighter. First love. And the doctor coughs. Doctor Handsome I Read Books.
Doctor lock the door at night.
Doctor give me an answer.
But I am a naked hospital gown person. Can't promise anything before morning pancakes.
Can't
promise
squat.
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