titrations and cars that crap out on you.

I dont understand why a sophomore in highschool needs to know how to perform a liquid titration
or any kind of titration for that matter
or how to calculate the velocity of the car that broke down 5 weeks ago
on an afternoon drive
So damn hot, sitting in the car that wouldn't start
with the check engine light that Ive grown accustomed to
with the taps on the window from the highway patrol
who want to charge me an arm and a leg to get my car off that
rush hour time on I95. So many times ive made that drive
today I am stopped at exit 22.
an act of god, or inherent risk of activity
put my car out of comission on that shoulder where he met me
religiously devoted in a way i dont appreciate enough
brought me ice water and a check book
ill never appreciate him enough.
i dont want to make that sunday drive
8am to be guarenteed on time
miami will never be a destination i love as much as this one

plexiglass walls divide us all

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how nice you are or how many favors you do. It wont change them. They don’t care if you tiptoe around them or if you confront them with kindness, so much over the top kindness, in their face so close your trying to breath in oxygen but all you get is their exhalations, that’s all you ever get. Their exxxhalations.

So close that catholic school teachers would snap your knuckles and pry a bible in the gap to remind you about distance and sexuality not kindness or closeness or any of the ness’es that are necessary for happiness.

The edges of that weathered book are facing you and suddenly you have a nose bleed from the papercuts you acquired from his book and youre so close that the droplets of blood shiver and sliver down in streaks but it isn’t bright red like one blood is oxidized, its black from their exhalations of barren air.

And you get to wondering if it will ever change and so you dare to breathe out, because most of the time you just hold your breath and bow your head but today, today you breathe out and fog is returned to your face

so you reach up to touch it and theres a wall of plexiglass and it’s the cheap kind and you don’t know how or why its there, but you cant get past it you never will and so you shirk away into the room with the noise cancellation fan to pretend your alone because that’s how it feels on this side of the plastic.

how are you so sure spring follows winter?

so much of life is barren and today im afraid that this nothingness is all there is.

the assumption that these branches will green again is alot like believing well all go to heaven.

im not sure if i can do this

wandering

im sick of being alone.

turn to my [pill]ow.

turn and turn and turn and

when will this kick in?

and

sleet
rain
snow
wind
sun
clouds

im feeling weathered.


ice.

My inspection is expired so i suppose ill stay put for now.

If I had a reliable car, I wouldnt be here right now
or maybe ever
putting on red rimmed glasses at 1039 pm on sunday
what to do with my last 21 minutes of this day that will never
happen again
i should have taken my chances
using the ad hoc risk balance equation and drop the quarter
to enter the turnpike
watching the needles, all the while
low battery normal heat normal oil
abnormal oxygen ratio cuasing my gas mileage to be half

so instead of driving the planned 55.7 miles to 9307 arbor oaks court
i stop half way, and turn around.
spending the gas i would have normally
and imagining the rest.

selenium toning is for both perfection and archival purposes.

i dont use it. i dont even fix for the full six minutes, let alone rinse for thirty.

like anyone has that kind of time

but i wish i did. id make some amazing prints granted the gift of a free evening.

but like always

i get "home" (this place will never be quite that) and shower and leave again for work

never get home before midnight

never sleep til 2

up again at 6 or 7 or 8. whenever i cant fiegn sleep any longer.

all the while wondering what my dream meant.

you were in it. and i thought about it all day.

saw you twice.

and now i cant stop thinking of how different it would be

how exciting

how freeing and careless

if i had the time

if i werent tied.

i wonder...

birthdays are the same as light meters, in a way

birthdays used to seem so enchanted.
i dont remember what age exactly, maybe 14
when i snuck a peek into the giftbags on the mantle
laid on the couch in agony of stomach pains
had cake brought to the end table
i was so ungrateful that day.

and realized that it wasnt special
it was a measurement like any other.
like a clock, or ruler, or scale
measuring time passed, time left
and every year ive accomplished slightly less

it was my sisters birthday today
she wore a yellow dress and had a table of friends
so many there werent enough forks or chairs
and after there was tons of mess
and wondered if on my birthday i would ever have that.

i already know the answer.
ill be at a table for two
hell bring me flowers maybe
tell me i look pretty
and act like we dont know that even if i invited others
it would still just be us.

Until I came to Miami, I left my keys in the car.

Locks are to keep people out.  it promotes anti trust. 

doors are to let people in.  a passage through 

walls. for holding. for waiting. for containing 

windows . let in light.

storm shutters block out life.

closets are for storing lies.

drawers are for what we hide

shelves are for our pride and 

locks are to keep people out. 

doors say step inside.

theres so much to see and we can only ever focus on 2% of it

i tried to write something happy once. it turned out more like one of those inspirational posters they sell in bookstores with the encouraging words in bold and rainbow color, almost mocking you for buying such a ridiculous lie.

home is my roundtrip destination.

i went home for easter to see my family. dancing in the graveyard was the most uplifting thing ive done all year.

Closets are like a disorganized biography that no one ever reads.

you said to check the closet for the boots
but i hadnt.
i wore running shoes instead.
and all the while thought in curiousity if they were there.
its not where i left them 2 months 1 week and 3 days ago.
against my better judgement i opened it.
like pandoras box greeted with haunting objects
whispering to be touched, to be read. to be taken out of hiding spaces
so carefully cluttered. each time becoming more antique
a day. a month. a year. 5 years.
and i promise each time to revisit them.
all the while knowing it is something past.
something sad.
and like always it brought it on again and i shuffled for hours
not looking for anythihng, just through. discarding none of the things
that reminded me so much
of how much of life
is over.
but i come to this five foot by two foot
enchanted nook. its mine.
i come to it and see how much of everything
has been lost.
and how much hasnt been replaced.
sit and read how lonely i was.
how frustrated.
i dont know why.
i have so much less now.
but i dont feel it because i dont have time.