By round of applause how do I feel?

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden (1907-1973)

I had always heard of noise polution and people's attempts to shut it out. I thought the sound of other people's desperation was a comforting buffer from the incesent ramblings, notes and pictures gone awry in my head.
But age has brought a wisedom that's more sad than admirable. And now I can't stand the sight, smell or sound of others. You can say I've become a hermit, but in reality I've just grown physically ill [of filth and disease that comes with our race]
if you hit that rock hard enough it'll crack open, but it'll still be hard inside.

My mother looks at me with disappointment and nostalgia and wonders, "What ever happened to the little girl inside of you?"

that is the question isnt it, Mother

BOY: The nights are long, in fact too long. Their empty mute space is filled with impossible things that flower in my mind

many unrealistic petals, dreams that die on the early shores of day, disintegrating in the great light. It's all a recurring

pattern - a night and a day, a sleep and a heartache, a dream and a death.



GIRL: I know all too well nature's cycle of weariness, the coming and going, the hope and defeat, these laws of the world our

dearest sworn enemy. But let us please, my love, untangle ourselves from mental thorns, and shift this damaged focus to the

you and the me and the aching distance laying desperately in between. Lately you've been holding wine bottles longer than my

hand, holding them to your heart, embracing them in your arms closer than you hold and embrace me to that temple I desire and

perilously adore.



BOY: Excuse the imperfections of all erratic emotions and nature, for I am nothing more. Yes, I love the wine of the earth,

but you taste just as beautiful, and you both shorten the night, making the impossible something possible, something that is

conquerable, something that comforts me down to the wonderful depths of sleep, that serene level where I love to be but have

a most difficult time trying to achieve.



GIRL: So the wine and me are your guide to a content sleep? What about a nights sleep consisting of just lying next to me? I

have given you everything, including a place to sleep. You do nothing all day but sit near the window-sill with a bottle of

white wine and cry. I mean what the fuck. That is what I come home to from work - a boy weeping by a window with wine.



BOY: It's more than most people do in a lifetime.



GIRL: How so?



BOY: I am being honest with myself.



GIRL: You are being dishonest to me.



BOY: But still being honest with myself.



GIRL: How does that work, love?



BOY: The way everything else works.



GIRL: You're the maestro of my heart's rhythm and on nights like these you're too drunk to perform.



BOY: It's true, yes, but there's no one to impress but the crowd and it's they who we have exiled here in our bedroom

paradise.



GIRL: You don't feel the desire to ever impress me?



BOY: No, I only want to love you. In the waves of bed sheets you are the sea-goddess.



GIRL: I should hope not. Gods and seas are that which belongs to eternity and I wish not to be a prisoner of never-ending

dissapointments and aches. I hope to actually get rest someday, the kind you never wake from, real and ultimate. But in the

meantime I intend to love you dearly, free from all the eternity, but you are difficult. When we see eachother your eyes ask

questions like "who are you?", "where am I?", and especially "what is the distance of longing?" My eyes see no answer but my

heart struggles to know, it struggles to know you and your heart.



BOY: But you see, how can you know my heart when it is not here, when it resides in lands far away from here, away from me

and you, beating wildly somewhere both day and night. It beats wildly for you, but not with you. If you want my heart to

belong to you then we must, together hand in hand, journey across vast days and seas, death and beauty. Only after venturing

through all that can love hold strong and true in the midst of this chaotic world that we were seperately thrown into

unwillingly.

What are you really after? What are you hoping to gain?
If nothing has ever pleased you what makes you think you've changed?
You're running in circles, darling, from bed back to bed.
Tell me what you're really after then, baby, just rest your head

Who are you really after? Who you trying to find?
Who is that certain someone that's kept you awake all those nights?
You think it's just puzzle pieces but they never fit right
If you can't see who you're really after then, baby, you're blind

Why are you always searching? Why are you always undone?
You lurk in the darkest corners awaiting some heavenly ascension
You know you won't find it in liquor or that stuff your friend does
But c'mon, we've all had our stumbles and some nights it almost feels like love
It feels like love

So what are you really after? Who are you trying to find?
Why are you so hard on yourself? It's only life, and its only tonight
I'll pick up a six-pack at last call and we'll stay up drinking in bed
You could tell me what you're really after then, baby, just rest your head
Just rest your head

[The Technique of Tenderness]

we're picture perfect lying
in your bed face down in the mess
we've made for ourselves
thanks for caring, but im fine
just let me bask in nostalgia one last time

will he come back to me
when everyone else has failed him?
will you come back to me
if I fail you?

and its strange the smile in my voice
when i cant help but find trouble in peace
and I dont trust you because i dont like me
I need to destroy this
and its a problem

so forget all of the bad the moment
you hold my tiny face in your hands
close your eyes and fall in
ahhh the technique of tenderness


[Old is Gold]

I like the old war songs my step dad used to sing
and the way photo's yellow when they've outlived our longterm memory
and nostalgia was my first word way back when
before i could verbalize how it haunted me with
memories that would never be

and if I died today I can look back and say
I've lived my life navigating through my rear view mirror

I 'spose its time to keep my eyes on the road ahead



[For All Insomniacs]

that subtle feeling of restlesness before you want to sleep... you think you'll never reach that first stage of REM. It fills the young with a wave of fear. You anticipate an ongoing insomnia until finally your mind settles and you're able to ease yourself into the arms of slumber

[1]

Viva las vegas, in the casino that is your life...
just remember the house always wins...
as you wait anxiously for the cards to be delt we always hope for the full house.
but what happens when you have to fold, are you going to raise the stakes?
just remember the house always wins...
the silver lining is the free buffet
since when is there no such thing as a free lunch
oh thats right... you just put all your chips in on that last game
you're all in
just remember that the house always wins...

[2]

I spend I great amount of my time wandering
and wondering if there is anything bigger and better
normal human desire is to want more than you have
forgive me father for I have sinned
I am nothing more than human
I am gluttonous, greedy, envious, wrathful, vain, proud, lustful, and sad
Does this make me bound for hell?
If I pray hard enough will you forgive me for being your child?

[3]

I've learned to see eye to eye with the working class
our back are tired and our brow soaked with sweet
Don't pay me with pity
I've earned the clothes on this working girl's back
I hope the white collars are happy
They've finally found shakles that fit my free spirit's ankles
I'm a slave for legal tender

[4]

Never you mind, child
the words of us adults
we talk about you
with your naivety in mind
We don't expect you to understand, you're too young

[5]

what happens when we lose the will to move?
Bedridden has become a blessing in disguise
and this wild stallion has finally submitted to it's reins

Its funny when you get to looking back on your life, even at such a young age, and thinking about how far you've been and how many times you've been around the perverbial "block"

I've been thinking about how to forget people and the places you've been with them
I've realized that, when you love someone, they're engraved in your thoughts forever
like Metal
even if polished
the letters that spells their name and face never wear away
there will always be those little things that remind you of them like, the smell of laundry detergent
or a song you heard then
anything that throws you in the arms of nostalgia holds you down and brings you down to earth.

So what the fuck are you supposed to do to move on? How are we supposed to look at them without that yerning?
the Answer is you can't.
Pay attention cause this gets tricky:

When you truely love someone, you never stop loving them. That picture you've painted with the both of you living happily ever after will never burn itself from your brain. All you can do is lock it up, refer to it occasionally, and start painting yourself a new picture. If you dont, you start to watch people as they live their lives while you only wish you could get on with yours.

I think I can sleep again after that one....

1. When money was no object... I just wanted to play in the Dandilions and color!
2. Synchronized Couch Dancing
3. Putting the Prince of Egypt/Titanic on mute and reciting the lines
4. Paper Dolls
5. American Girl
6. Forensics in 6th grade
7. the way my face looked when I liked myself
8. when i refused to walk in a straight line
9. when i refused to step on the crack so I wouldnt break my mama's back
10. when my parents were happy
11. driving to PineCone just for a milkshake and Fries at 2 in the morning after a party
12. Parties at Danielle's house
13. Punching steven in the face after getting drunk
14. GOOD SHOWS NOT AT THE LOFT
15. The Blaire House
16. The Owl Sanctuary
17. Virgin Surgeon Warehouse
18. Knarly Kris!!!!!
19. Weiner Stick
20. Randomly walking on state street/bergenline for no apparent reason
21. When I thought I was smart
22. when holding hands was enough
23. Fall of my Sophmore Year
24. The first time I ever skipped class to get ready for a party at danielle's
25. Summer of my 18th Birthday
26. Feeling like PeeWee Herman was making fun of me
27. When I really was an individual
28. Crusty Punks
29. When I was all DIY
30. Staying up all night with the first guy I ever loved

Things I dont miss:

1. getting tricked into smoking pot laced with PCP ugh
2. the way my face changed the first time someone called me ugly
3. the way i cried when someone told me they hated me
4. the way my boyfriends' voices changed when they realized they didnt want to be with me anymore


I feel so young but soooooooo old

dear book. a life is like a book. a book is like a box.
a box has six sides. Inside and Outside.
So, how do you get to what is inside?
How do you get whats inside, out?

Once upon a time there was a very pretty girl who lived in a beautiful box and everybody loved her.
Even when she was outside she was inside that box
and there was no way to get her out
One day she found the tiniest crak in her box and just started to tap tap tap away
just to see what would happen
after a few minutes the beautiful box shattered and she was free
but what she didnt realize was that the shards from the box cut her face and body
and the people no longer saw her as beautiful
but as mutilated
they called her naive for breaking out of her box
and told her she ruined herself.
and stopped loving her.

"I do be da pittiest girl... I do be dat..."

Its funny when you think about holidays
you know how they are supposed to be with your famiy and all
well
this Thanksgiving
Zeb was my family

we had decided to do something for thanksgiving orignally and then i was invited down to his family's to share thanksgiving with them.
Its probably the best thanksgiving I've ever had

It really meant a lot to me considering all the crap thats gone on this past year
And i really do feel like my only family are the select handful of people i hold near and dear.

you guys know who you are. You've influenced me in ways you cant even imagine. Yo guys have made me better people. Thank you

I had this conversation a special someone
and he had mention how he felt we didnt know eachother that well
well, distance has not been our friend. And nothing beats actualy being and seeing and holding the person. but I like to think we know eachother pretty well considering the distance.
Well then It got me thinking? How well do i let anyone get to know me? Or do i really try do get to know the people that surround me? I mean... Kyle didnt know me, Danny didnt care...

This sort of reminds me of a job interview i once had.
my potential employer asked me to talk about myself and i completely froze... not that that is an uncommon question...
i never really know what to say on these things except that i like to have a good time, as most do. should i go into my hobbies? should i tell you what my favorite color is? should i tell you my life's story?

i'm thinking yes to the first question, yes to the second, and no to the third.
why no to the third? because my life is just beginning. it's strange that i say that because i feel old most days. i've been compared to both a wise old man. but im not a man... ah fuck
oh, yeah, i curse far more than a lady should, but that's okay, right? i hope so.
in trying to figure out what to say I just look around at my surroundings. Random crap thats scattered about i mentally mark which of them are mine... 90% of my property is that having to do with art. I paint and sketch... but am I an artist? people tell me I am but again... what do they know?
I dont know why there is crap laying around... it takes more than the needed amount of effort to keep this place clean... Im a little neurotic but i love it... I love love... actually... i dunno if I do. I mean, for me, even when it was good it was bad. Or when i thought it was there it wasnt at all... I guess i keep optimistic though, i havnt sworn celebacy yet. heh.
I also love music... everyone does but I really do. I've always wanted to be able to sing but I get shy. If i sing its in the shower or the car when nobody is paying attention to me. or sometimes i get brave and sing in front of friends. But my step dad is an amazing musician, my dad was a DJ back in his day and my mom? well she's just my mom. I am trained on the Clarinet! so i guess thats something
I get into a lot of fights with my parents. They make me feel bad about myself sometimes. But i cant help but love them... oh theres that word again... love... its true though. I would walk through fire for them.

Final analysis? I guess im a work in progress... I used to find it really easy to talk about myself. But there is more to me than what Id like people to see on the outside... It's taken me a while to learn that. I'm glad i finally did

:]

Viva las vegas, in the casino that is your life...
just remember the house always wins...
as you wait anxiously for the cards to be delt we always hope for the full house.
but what happens when you have to fold, are you going to raise the stakes?
just remember the house always wins...
the silver lining is the free buffet
since when is there no such thing as a free lunch
oh thats right... you just put all your chips in on that last game
you're all in
just remember that the house always wins...

Im in the library of my school trying to turn an Apple Photoshop file into a PC photoshop file... it's taking me a while but i think ive got it
ANYWAY

so im in the library just woring on these t-shirts for evan
and this kid just drops this note on my keyboard and says,"This is for you..."
okay...
so i open the note out of curiosity and it says (and I quote):

"Hey,
you have really cool style. :)
Add me on my if myspace if you're into that sort of thing
(insert myspace URL here)

- greg

you can also check out my band if you like
(insert myspace band URL here)"

its sweet, flattering, and a little invasive i must say.

It's always good when you patch things up with someone
like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders
not a weight of guilt per say (or maybe so)
but the weight of anxiety and sadness that once filled a room with palpable tension

Family is supposed to be the most important thing in your life
they're supposed to being you comfort and guidance when you feel lost and unsure about your self or the choices you're making
I've recently learned that for all these years i thought my family was letting me down when, in fact, we were letting eachother and ourselves down.
I've come to accept it and even hope to patch things up
maybe not so much with my parents (they're pretty set in their ways)
but with my brother.

I dont even know why I write in this thing nobody reads it.

People and their ways, filling up their days
but then what am I doing?
sharing the same days, looking for new ways
but then what are they doing?
lost underneath what I think I should be
I bet you feel the same weight
or maybe not
all I can do is make a guess after all
so I guess the right answer
and fit the peg into the right slot for me
and I guess you're unfulfilled and frustrated with your TV
looking deeper into the screen
seeing only shallow reflections of your life going by
looking back at you
and I guess you're telling yourself about a great tomorrow
pushing off what you want
until you can just get X, Y, and Z out of the way
the sun will rise just the same tomrorow
but will you?
time takes its toll
and i guess you say its not that bad
the day is over, home awaits anxiously
sitting right next to home friday finds itself on your door step again
has it already been a week?
hold your breath some more, keep waiting
i've giving up on trying to understand
i guess you're not that different from me
but we're worlds apart

Fevral'. Dostat' chernil i plakat'! (Feburary. Get ink, shed tears)
Pisat' o fevrale navzryd, (Write of it, sob your heart out, sing.)
Poka grohochuschaya slyakot' (While the torrentle slush roars)
Vesnoyu chernoyu gorit (burns the blackness of the spring)
- Boris Pasternel



people, seasons, the world, life is a fluid concept
constantly changing
there's always room for discovery
and on that path of discovery
there will be laughs, tears, anger, and and regret
the best we can do is live it and love it
for everything... the good and the bad

I dedicate this poem to someone special

Ive been having a lot of trouble sleeping these past few months
I go to bed, and wake up, early in the morning
Im always thinking... my mind never seems to want to shut itself down
lately whats been plaguing me has been the thought of optimism and pessimism

the New Yorker in me comes out in my cynical and sarcastic humor everyday keeping the people at bay. But I've been doubting even my own ways of thinking and living. Do I want to live day to day thinking the worst of people? I dont want to believe that everyone is guilty until proven innocent. and the only optimism I see in that is that fact that I would like to change.

My friend Danielle has always been a realist. Whenever I'm being my dramatic self and even too cynical for NY standards... she brings me back down to earth. But lately I've seen a more optimistic side in her. It's subtle, but when she talks to me about work and home and school, I sense in her voice a glimmer of "everythings going to work out great" But maybe thats really my own hope being reflected back at me. But if anything is going to work out for anyone, I'd like to think its Danielle, she deserves it.

On the other hand... there is my father, who I look up to a lot when it comes down to general circumstances. His motto seems to be "everything is a scam"... actually, everyone's motto out here is "Everything is a Scam" and even "Expect the worst" I have to admit, these words bring an even more somber tone to the already grey spectrum of the city. But maybe its the city that brings out the worst in the people. NY is Agressive, Abusive, Dissmissive, and overbarring. I love New York, but I can't see what it once meant to me...

Im out of touch with New York and Losing touch with Wisconsin... is there new happy medium?

In the end I like to think its Pessimism posing as Realism thats really Optimism... I hope

Dreams are psycosematic halucinations of color and sound...
in my dreams, what I know to be reality and art collide
and I wake up and realize how beautiful the world is
and I take that as my inspiration in art and in life

- alyssa

I spend I great amount of my time wandering
and wondering if there is anything bigger and better
normal human desire is to want more than you have
forgive me father for I have sinned
I am nothing more than human
I am gluttonous, greedy, envious, wrathful, vain, proud, lustful, and sad
Does this make me bound for hell?
If I pray hard enough will you forgive me for being your child?