stonefolks

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 05:04:09 GMT

It's late.

I am making a lot of money.

Like woah.

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 15:07:47 GMT

I don't know what is real. I can't touch what I feel. I hide behind the shield of my illusions.

I used to be able to coherently express myself. Then again, I used to not be so inwardly involved. I used to talk about the vastness of the ever-spreading universe. I used to smile into the sunshine and frown into the snow. Nothing is so simple anymore.

In good news, I hardly think about you anymore. Except when I see parking meters.

Monies

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 13:11:19 GMT

I have a job. It is a great job. It is a job so job-like that I will be given monies for my labors. REAL ACTUAL MONIES. I haven't started yet, but even now I know I will enjoy it. Because I will be paid. I will be paid in monies.
The days of laboring for small bags of rice or on occasion a few eggs, OVER!

I am so excited. I will be working as a photographer for Dixie Stampede. Taking pictures, but also selling them, and putting them in the little envelopes. The interview went ridiculously well. I think I will be a good salesperson. Even now, you are bending to my will. You can't even tell, I'm just that great at it.

Anyway. That is the proverbial that.

. poems .

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 02:49:53 GMT

only trust the sun

Our ancient earth
An infant in our arms

And under our bare feet
we will only trust the sun
Our arms spread naked under it
Our fingertips raw from tree bark
A cataract compared
To what has been before
The infant ancient world
A stranger to our locus
Of feelings and intuition
The middle of a perfume
A fancy diamond cut
Of darkness,
Of Atlantis,
Of wounded knee,
Of glass,
Of the sea.

things i've known

I have known mountains
They have lain beneath me
Since I could lie upon them

I have known rivers
Holding them
Inside my chest.
I have known sunshine
And trusted it implicitly.
My warm blood flowing
Under my cold skin and
My warm heart
Urged it through me
At double pace. So,
When it reached my
Extremities
They propelled themselves
Toward you, alarmingly.

All thousand years of us

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 21:55:08 GMT

I have some rather longish truths to post now.

“You don’t have to go to college, you could come live in my refrigerator.”

“See? This is why we need tape recorders. That would’ve made a great sample.”

We rode largely in silence for the rest of the drive. I just looked at him and at the fog out the window behind him.

We arrived.

“You can’t make me leave,” I said, but took his jacket off anyway. He just smiled.

“I hate marching band.” I lowered my head so he couldn’t see my face.

“Why?” I didn’t answer him. “Is it because Sam talks about it so much?”

“No, it’s, I don’t care about that.” I paused. The song was at 28 seconds. “It’s because it’s what makes you have to go away from me.” My voice broke imperceptibly (Maybe perceptibly, I’m not sure.)

He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me to him. My right arm came, automatically, around his shoulder, and his left hand was warm on my back. In retrospect, I should have let go of my Star Trek DVDs and hugged him with all of my arms; instead, I whispered, “You’re so smart.” into his neck. It came out sideways so he had to ask what I’d said. I repeated it clearer.

“You’re smart, too.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. At 3:30 AM, I wasn’t feeling very smart.

He was very warm, but after a few more moments of my probably cold nose on his neck, we broke apart.

“Good night, Andrew.” I smiled just a little bit and stepped out into the cold. “Ya’ll have a good’un, y’hear?” I told him.

“I don’t know how to respond to that.” He responded.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to.”

He smiled and I smiled and I shut the door. I walked my DVDs into the house, but I left my heart behind. I looked back. When I got inside, I sat my things down where they still are and watched him leave out the window. When he was gone completely, I crawled into bed with my sister and the music said “and he kissed me ‘til the morning light.” And I just laid there, wishing he had.

<><><>

The days are golden because we put the gold into them. The days will be golden because we will put the gold into them. The days glow and stick all over us and then they fade and all that’s left is the sound of an apple core hitting the forest floor and a shriek and the rushingrushingrushing of a river and a human heart. Right now, I wouldn’t really mind being covered up by snow; but then I’d eventually have to get up and I’d be wet and uncomfortable and have to put on different clothes. If I didn’t have to get up, though, snow would be where it’s at. There are a thousand tiny strands of golden tinsel and then we collapse in a heap of wrapping paper and the shiny things get stuck all over us and we’re glittery from decoration. Then the orchestra plays and we sing along and it isn’t Mannheim Steamroller but it’s something, right? Right now, all I want is summer and warmth and human bodies and Rainbow Cave and a million tiny tiny tiny water fragments not big enough to be called droplets cascading down and the sun catches them and it’s a freak of placement because I’m never going to see that again. I can’t stand in that exact place, the sun and clouds and time refuse to cooperate and so every time we go back, it’s just to get muddy for no reason. There must be something in the fog and in my sleepiness that makes me especially candid and I probably made your leg fall asleep, sorry.

I’m really hoping to get a tape recorder and a flat iron for Christmas.

Spring days glow and cover your fingertips
Until you can’t help but reach out to someone.
Summer days glow and hang in the air
Until you can only breathe it in
And it coat your lungs with joy.
And it lands all over your skin
Until all you want
Is to press yourself
Against someone.
And it’s not enough
Until you feel someone’s heart
Beat that isn’t your own.
Theraflu,
In unique combination
With a large glass of wine.
Might have made me a bit
Incomprehensible
I apologize.

Oh, beautiful, beautiful alongside your journal. I miss the summer days now, much similarly when I miss frost rather than smoke floating above my mouth as I find rhythm in the crickets’ chirps in the sun.

Contact. That’s what the cold is for too. But it never gets cold enough here. It’s not cold enough for odd familiarity to press two people together for warmth and growth. It doesn’t allow for the sunset bands of the summer.

Thankfully I have more time in the summer.

I want you
to write a book J

Yeah, I wrote them both in the same frame.

I have to admit, I have some good things to say about winter, I think, though the temperature doesn’t drop low enough here, contact could probably be achieved if you stayed out in the “pretty cold” for long enough. I’m not being very lucid, am I?

Still, I can’t wait for summer. Like a little golden magic, and I’ll be writing every day. Summer is best spent in caves, valleys, and mountains. So that is where I will be. If I could, I would spend the whole summer there and not come back for even one single night in a bed, or a couch-bed, I have to, though because ... I don’t want to pollute our beautiful rivers and streams with my shampoo. Actually, other than that, I can’t think of one single good reason to leave the mountains. I will continue to ponder the issue. I bet I could think of more reasons, but when it’s chilly outside, I only want to think about being in the mountains forever. I’m not going to waste my time thinking of reasons for coming back to civilization. The only civilization I need will come with me there.

M’kah. I’ll get right on the book. But when I prose (yeah, check it out: It’s a verb.) I have a hard time staying serious. I’ll try though, I’ll think about all the big important things: Love, death, sex. (the Holy Trinity, right?) Then my book will be very, very, very serious and very impacting.

Are you going to be able to visit before school?

<><><>

The fat, orange moon hung, and was crossed by telephone lines. My smallest brother sleeping with his head in my hands, and I hallucinated it was summer, again. Yeah, I have been doing that a lot lately, actually. The only things I cared to think about were all around me within an area of only several square feet. Then with my heart in my knees I lost the beautiful moon behind a mountain. I don’t hold the mountain responsible. I found it again, but I would have probably missed it if you hadn’t reminded me, because I was only thinking about happiness. Even though I am worried now about all the things I was worried about before, it went away for a few hours. So, check it out: thank you. I had a very golden evening.

<><><>

INSERT METEOR SHOWER HERE.

<><><>

Such simple directions. Find the solution, given that: You aren’t pretty. Plus, this and everything else the infinite universe has allowed you proves you aren’t very smart at all. It’s like the time you tried to climb up that trail in the dark darkness and the loose shale gave way under you and you were reduced to rubble on the ground. With blood from your cheeks flooding onto the horrible rocks. Reduced to your usual quietness with the usual quiet tears. Listening to nothing but the rushing rushing rushing of the river and the noise in your ears of all the sad thoughts you’ve ever had. All there even is to think about in our vast world is all the things you definitely should not have done. Haven’t you realized that a little simple hope has nothing to offer you? It’s too simple and that’s the problem because every spinning atom in all of us is definitely infinitely complex. The worst of it is, you already knew all that and went against it anyway. We’ve all been hurt. Then here we are, having this conversation again. It’s like I’m just around so I can deceive myself and make it all worse. There are plenty of other things at fault here, though. The cold and audible hearts beating and the indelible inconceivable ice crystals all over everything. Thanks, and yes... Actually I can’t stop thinking. Serves you right for leaving me alone with my mind and my eyes.

<><><>

All of our past, even before we were born, led us where we are. It’s not based on the decisions we make. We only have those decisions to make because of the decisions other people made and it goes on and on and on in one widening circle. If you follow it back far enough, it comes down to whether the lizard decides to try a new snack. Farther still and the bacteria decide to exchange plasmids. Everything we are and everything we see is made up of all the tiny spinning atoms. I’m not going to try to hide or appease my emotions; since actually, they are only glandular secretions which I have no control over. There isn’t really such a thing as an intellectual connection. I thought there was for the longest time. That’s the story, from the start of the universe, though… It’s a story called misdirection. We are ticking pumping clicking tocking thinking machines. The feel of a tree under your fingers isn’t anything more than the nerve endings just under your stratum corneum sending the happiness back to your spine and then into your brain. Once there, you finally recognize it and then spend several days thinking about the sensation… Or not. Maybe there is such a thing as uniqueness as more and less than abnormality at the same time after all. Perhaps there are minor manufacturing flaws in all of us machines. We work the same, we metabolize, and all the things that go on around us are just a distraction.

So I guess what I’m trying to say here is someone, anyone… please distract me.

<><><>
I feel like I have loved you since human blood has been in our human veins. I’ve known you for a thousand years. I blame the low, orange moon. I blame damn good filmmaking. I blame 20 Questions. I blame the ice all over everything. I blame the dollar menu. I blame Dali. I blame the roads at night for giving me nothing to look at but you. I blame the fog. I blame the way you sing quietly. I blame your damned inaudible heartbeat for making me press my head to your chest to try to hear it. I blame your stupid chin for getting in the way of my stupid eyelashes. I blame Chuck E Cheese. I blame outer space and all its shining celestial objects. I blame thrift stores. I blame pizza joints and pineapple juice. I blame the geese in the sky. I even blame Smurfs and colored pencils. I blame books for making you so damn thoughtful. If we were to continue in this vein I could almost blame all the good music in the world. Almost.
<><><>

I dreamt we stood together on a mountainside. We rested and at our feet were folded the thousand years we've known one another. The dirt, the thick and heavy tangibility of the years. The indelible night rising up, as the sky, before us. Darkness veiled our understanding, but we didn't need it for our purpose. We only needed to stand together, as humans, with the good and solid earth beneath us, with our untouched hearts, with our untouched minds. At the beginning of everything. We were ancient. The years folded up under us, our past, even before we were born. A wrinkle in us, only the steam of several hundred summers could press out. The endlessness of stars, without clouds to fill up our skulls, and with clarity and thoughtfulness which may have been directly related to our inactivity and is regardless of our limited perception. I dreamt we stood, together, on a mountainside. With no obstruction, no sublimation, only the entirety of everything. The clear air. Thin, and sharp, from the top of the world.

dead earthworms

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 02:03:40 GMT

So yeah... More college-search type things going on.

I really really hope that we get to have physics next year. Wouldn't that be just amazing! I mean, I have no intention of slacking off just because I am going to be a senior. I am going to have:

Dual Enrollment Comp. I and II
Dual Enrollment American History
Dual Enrollment Western Civ
Chemistry II
Physics (I HOPE BEYOND HOPE.)
Pre-Cal
Calculus
Virtual Enterprise (Economics if I don't make it into that class. UGH.)

That's a pretty heavy course-load. Still, I am happy that I am taking Pre-Cal and Calculus as a senior, because I know just exactly how serious I was as a sophomore >>.

I just wish I could, you know, do everything... And just aquire knowledge for the rest of my life. Wouldn't that be grand? Trust me, it definitely would.

In other news! My grandmother has been hiding her COMPLETE COLLECTION OF SIMON&GARFUNKEL from me for, what would seem to be, YEARS! She hadn't even opened it. She doesn't really care for CDs, methinks.

>( But! I am taking The Captain straight over there tomorrow and ripping it (shredding it) onto there like a mad-maniac. Sam is getting copies. Oh yes. 'Sides, I want Stonefolks: The Great Mrs Felton Family Degreasing to have a little of their folksome influence. So he had better study-up. Wouldn't that be hella sweet. (I will take this one: YES. YES IT WOULD.)

I also want to make a short film about love in unlikely places. Which SEEMS unoriginal, but hey, I haven't mentioned the very hush-hush part (I'll give you a hint... it starts with an "s" and ends in a "cholar's bowl"). Though that alone wouldn't be enough and we need some Twister, marshmallow cereal, candy corn, meteor showers, and trials. Oh yeah, some tribulations as well. (This kid is having a tough time not making a Star Trek pun here. Something like: "It also involves tiny, round, furry creatures. and their sexual uses" But I know that would put you off. So I vow I won't.) This is a non-biographical thing here. Though I believe that, as artists, we all draw some influences from our lives and our experience. Which I don't have much of... In either filmmaking or love. But whatever. ---

--- Okay, I'm back. I got distracted. It was only like ten minutes though.

Which reminds me! I have some schweet NASA mission patches, but I can't decide what most priveledged of garments I should adorn with them. I will give the matter more thought. I also need to regain a penpal (COUGH) and use a few more of my NASA postcards. Heck, I could probably just do that without waiting for a reply to my last letter and WONDERFUL burnt CD. >( Woah. I just used the word "heck" Schweeeet!

Oh speaking (belatedly) of love in unlikely places. I need to SHARE a couple of short films with you. One of them I can definitely get, and the other I probably can't. We'll see. ---

---Okay, I don't know exactly if html works in here because I have never tried to embed a video before. This is a two-part thing. I am pretty confident the part 2/2 will come up on the rolodex thing (oh, come on, you know what I am saying!)

WELL! HTML DOESN'T WORK! SO, in light of this... I will make a link. I will even make it all cool and fancy and make a text name, since I feel bad that you can't just hit play like what would be all logical. Oh yeah, this is only just slightly homosexual. It is very innocent though. It makes me squeal. And I don't do squealing, typically.

Davy and Stu *dies of a cute heart attack*

Wow. Sorry, that turned out pretty corny, I'm leaving it, though... Just 'cause I hate editing myself.

Okay as long as we are doing link we should be fine on this one, too. The only place I have ever seen this short film is on LOGO channel's website. Again, it's very innocent. I like that *dies* but THIS gem of film-craft takes place in a post-apocalyptic society... I won't explain any further, It's one of my all-time favorites. Just watch it. Just do it. Go ahead. Click. Go for it. What could you possibly have to lose. Yeah, nothin'. Just watch it.

http://www.logoonline.com/shows/events/short_films/details.jhtml?cid=1554548&popThis=popVideo(1380555)

Right, for some reason it's being dumb. Just copy/paste. GO AHEAD. IT'S WORTH THE FIVE OR SIX KEYSTROKES. I PRAWMISS. I DUZZ.

I am so sorry for rambling like this. I am just in a cheerful mood!

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 15:05:34 GMT

The sun is shining, and I am indoors, trying to fill out a scholarship application :\ It isn't very fun at all. They are all asking me what I want to be when I grow up. I really don't know. I like everything! I like to write, and read, and I like drawing and art, and I love all sorts of sciences and math. I like everything I come into contact with... Right now, I am really leaning toward the science part... But then, maybe I would do better as a writer... But that isn't very practical. Honestly though, the most reliable job these days is managing McDonalds. Ok, there's ONE thing I don't want to do.

I want a job that I wake up to every morning excited and passionate about. I know neither of my parents (A mailman, and a secretary. OH! Excuse me! a rural mail carrier and administrative assistant) feel that way about their jobs. I know onceI am out there in the real world, MONEY is going to be what really matters. Or so I am told. That is why, though I would be enthused about writing every day, I don't think it would lend to my overall happiness, since it is such a fickle occupation.

I should just choose. I mean, it isn't like because I put down one little thing on one little application I will be tied to it for life, right? RIGHT?

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 20:42:45 GMT

Okay, hopefully this is interesting. I wanted to post something interesting. This is a picture of me, with a stream of consciousness all around me and all in my shadows. But whatever. A lot of it was mispelled, because I didn't want to edit it. But yeah...

Soon, very soon, I will change this here layout... Won't be long now.

government cheese.

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 19:15:37 GMT

Well, technically, no one is ever going to read this. I hope. Wouldn't that be embarassing?

Ah. I guess what I am trying to say here is... I have nothing to say.

Maybe I will post something interesting on here in future. Probably not, though. I've had about 10 accounts on here. It's sad. Hm. Okay. I will set Livejournal as one of my homepages, maybe that will make me remember to post stuff. Three cheers for tabbed browsing!

Goodbye.