and she shall conquer the semi-colon at last.

Just a few thoughts over the past couple days :

"Well, at any rate, I once know this guy. One o the funniest guys I ever knew. He walks into my apartment one day - we were 24 - you know, completely unannounced and he says, 'Why is this place so damn gloomy all the time.' I wasn't even in the room. I was in the bathroom, you know, well the tub really, with my girlfriend's nipple in my mouth. I don't know, maybe you just had to be there.'

5 different scenarios. 5 different speakers. One psychopathic murder scene with a hint of irony. At least two lesbians. Love triangles always work. Go.

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"Hear the meaning within the word."
-Shakespeare

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My roommate throws a record on, a super fast version of Respect by Aretha Franklin, just as I mark the period to the sentence, "I used to live life so fast."

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They always leave you. The melodies.

They drift in the air and sometimes you can catch them, make them bloom for you, make something out of them, but they'll always leave. They are coasters. They lie on the wind's back beautifully.

I have known some specific melodies. I have known them quite intimately. Stuck my very nose in them, if you will. And I wonder...Am I a melody too?


...a bassist is what you want. A bassist is the key. The bassist is the string, has the spindle; is the only one able to keep the melody in phe's hands. The bassist.

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It is so weird. There is no way in hell he was the person for me to marry, or I him for that matter, but this is the experience, isn't it? You hear of someone you once dated, once slept around with; you hear that they're married, long after of course (though I was only late by a few weeks it looks like); and you feel a tug at your heart a little, like, 'Oh shit, well now there goes that one,' as if you have these special people set aside, all in a cabinet somewhere, in files, on shelves, just in case; people to remember from time to time, to check up on because maybe, maybe if you had a good thing going once, well, you know, anything could happen. And you feel like, 'Damn I lost that one' but the truth is you lost it awhile ago, or said goodbye to it, let go ages ago. But still you think, 'Well - he's good enough for somebody.' And you even think that all the little things that annoyed you, didn't please you, maybe they're gone and that's why they've found a spouse, it's because their breath doesn't smell anymore! It's because they've stopped swigging whiskey first thing in the morning! They're taking more showers, and so on. It is so strange. Because Really, Really...really what causes the tugging at the heartstrings is the fact that you were not the one for at least one person, and definitely so. Someone with whom you have a romantic history (albeit quite brief) has definitely chosen someone else. They are not thinking about you anymore. Definitely. And a whole new life is beginning for them, while you stay in the same spot, at the same job, university, with the same friends. That's what it comes down to then : even if the truth is that your life is moving forward, and evolving and maturing, to see the wedding photos of someone you once came with induces a feeling of stasis onto you because something momentous has happened for your once-lover and you only get the pictures. You cannot touch the experience, only wonder.

And personally, I fucked him over. He really liked me and I couldn't have given a shit less. He was an in-between. He was the result of my high, high libido. I needed a lover, strictly in the physical sense, and he was there. Simple as that. Well, also I found him very nice, agreeable, same sense of humor and all that. There was something sharp to him, and not just his teeth. But as soon as the one I really wanted was back in town, he never got another call from me again. Just like that. Blade of the sword. Cold; a cold and swift cutting of all ties.

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Heard on Wickenden St., Providence, RI, 2nd of Sept., 2009, around 4:20 pm :

"My whole life has been a series of preventative measures."