tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41673620142977894002024-02-18T19:18:35.493-08:00because light makes musicListen to yourself
Always try to understand the unknown
Never let anybody tell you
how to live your life.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-27392558756950424942009-01-15T12:50:00.000-08:002009-01-17T18:08:36.826-08:00Locked OutI once saw a young girl<br />place her hand on the<br />inside of a window,<br />staring out<br />as I watched from the sidewalk.<br />The girl was locked in<br />and I was locked out with<br />this world, my companion. <br />If it is putrid or lovely,<br />I would not know,<br />for the road stretched like<br />spangles of a sea anenome--I <br />knew of nowhere to be<br />and nothing to see.<br />The curtain shut,<br />swept into some desperate arms, <br />and her face dispersed in an<br />explosion of butterfly wings.<br />They left a faint shimmer.<br /><br />As I faced a well-lit street in suburbia,<br />I felt the ghost<br />of a carriage skirt the <br />nearest corner, or the<br />presence of a lingering friend<br />sweep behind a birch tree;<br />I felt both in my fingertips.<br />Light erupts and lamposts are <br />all space and time,<br />and as the girl's feet, buoyant<br />and filled with bounce, moved against<br />the plushness of a warm carpet,<br />I had to tear through the unforgiving<br />bark of my own roots, <br />growing into the frozen ground. <br /><br />This night is mine in a <br />feather bed I frequently<br />share with my imagination.<br />I am both free and contricted unto myself.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-37314772335232968392009-01-15T09:16:00.000-08:002009-01-15T09:18:09.005-08:00The Surveyor"I've never even heard of a barbituate,"<br />she laughed and told him to click<br />on an answer. Her nephew<br />played with REM and that impressed him<br />but I think it she handed him<br />a bag of bud it would impress him<br />more.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-2549134470151424182009-01-15T09:08:00.000-08:002009-01-17T18:07:08.472-08:00Sometimes it's hard to remember what things<br />are all about<br />The story of that old Lorax, the wild things, the<br />goodnight moon<br />God it's a struggle to search through<br />the past,<br />like finding a soft pair of hands in fog,<br />even for things that once meant the world and a <br />wonderful head full of dreams<br />I can make such a mess of a<br />memory by trying to fix it all nice<br />like I'm trimming hedges<br />Or sewing up an open wound--<br />plastic surgery.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-23634904281748745202009-01-14T05:49:00.001-08:002009-01-17T18:07:50.511-08:00Small Feet in Big ShoesBuy pot, smoke pot<br />Buy beer, drink beer<br />Buy drug, take drug<br />This magnificnt <br />vessel of a body <br />is a lake<br />of polluted,<br />lifeless water.<br />It is still.<br />Stagnant. On my <br />last vacation here<br />I hooked a<br />fine, large bass<br />and it told me that<br />life thrives and<br />dwindles among the <br />sediment, yet<br />it cannot seek the sun.<br /><br />We graze in a <br />feld of green<br />that will never<br />receive what it<br />needs to<br />flourish alone; <br />life is fruitless<br />or heavy, like<br />carrying a <br />suitcase full<br />of money on a <br />subway train. We<br />know neither<br />where we<br />take<br />it,<br />nor what it even <br />means. With<br />each step away<br />from the tracks<br />downward facing crystals<br />grow inside<br />of us and<br />they make us <br />feel like life<br />is weight.<br />They make us feel<br />like shit. <br /><br />Where are the<br />the lilies blooming<br />this year? Not<br />in our eyes or<br />our souls, but<br />instead potpourri<br />the shores of<br />a far<br />away lake.<br />Nothing but a green<br />giant grows<br />within us,<br />within you. Jack<br />must face the world<br />from the peak <br />of his beanstalk,<br />and his hands<br />are cut<br />and bloody<br />from handling<br />seeds and<br />leaves, but he <br />continues to<br />the summit.<br />And where is this <br />virtue in <br />his (our) journey? <br /><br />Weed, money.<br />A train<br />A web<br />A race--nervousness.<br />It is ironic<br />that such insipid<br />forms of inanimacy<br />are where the<br />weak find their<br />salvation.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-28429590595709183872009-01-10T12:29:00.000-08:002009-01-10T12:32:32.690-08:00DarkI am dark matter<br />solid as Hades<br />transparent as the twirling<br />tendrils of ghostly <br />breath, rising like mist <br />from the river styx.<br />I scream questionable things<br />from the tops of large buildings<br />hoping somebody will look<br />up, not at me,<br />but the sky-<br />face tilted toward eternity<br />and an orchestra of<br />celestial beauty, neck exposed.<br />I am stable, yet also<br />exquisite in the looseness<br />of my weave.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-80734767891743615942009-01-10T12:24:00.000-08:002009-01-13T11:35:14.980-08:00As thin as a single hairWe leave this bed<br />and we are two goblin faces<br />standing in a debauched, crowded city.<br />This place is as empty as we are<br />and spirits whirl, whirl, whirl<br />spitting silk. We get all caught up,<br />malaise and tangled.<br />What was once a mosaic is now<br />graffitti, but it is<br />a painful truth, just as we are.<br />Strangers are people, isotopes of a solid,<br />a soft web of criticism and denial,<br />but friends are a flora, blossoming<br />under the light of stars. Here,<br />we consume<br />love, true love<br />what am I? A stranger, a friend, a goblin?<br />Or just a spirit, spitting the silk<br />that keeps us apartKatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-64140479079117753252009-01-10T12:23:00.000-08:002009-01-10T12:24:10.879-08:00The StrangerDear Stranger,<br />Come find me.<br />I am<br />lost, but<br />you are<br />strangely <br />invaluable<br />to me<br />even though<br />your fingernails<br />constantly<br />rip<br />at the quilt<br />that keeps me <br />together.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-7173853212285829162009-01-03T07:26:00.000-08:002009-01-03T07:36:53.934-08:00FuneralA boy once killed a song for me<br />I never listened to it on my own, <br />Only with him.<br />So when he died to me—<br />vanished into a suburb close to mine,<br />but not quite mine,<br />the song died with him.<br />The breathy, titillating sound<br />from the singer’s throat<br />was but a spirit<br />a church bell from a different earth<br />without tone, or flaw—<br />simply flat, and dead.<br /><br />The song offered itself unexpectedly,<br />and the aimless, estranged voice that met my ears<br />held the tremble and woe of a pauper—<br />a sound that I had long forgotten.<br />Spring air seems cold;<br />aloof.<br />My breath clouds the windshield<br />and I touch it lightly upon instinct.<br />My fingertips leave dreadful prints,<br />like rose petals in the snow,<br />abandoned and forgotten on a January morning<br />Crisp air turns my lips red<br />Stung by a kiss<br />This voice on the radio was no longer the singer’s,<br />but his,<br />enchanting, yet akin to the falseness of memory itself<br /><br />I sat in the heatless car<br />listening to the radio<br />to the song that defined him<br />to the words he would betray<br />We listened to the music as if it were the gentlest pulse<br />As if this beat would guide us to the heart of the song<br />The heart that you would break,<br />much like you broke my own.<br /><br />The dial is turned<br />and suddenly,<br />the grass is lush—<br />quivering, under the tender caress of the spring air<br />All around me is alive<br />including the love from another<br />But your song,<br />our song<br />is dead forever.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-62352518734490272022009-01-03T07:10:00.000-08:002009-01-03T07:21:02.197-08:00poetryI feel like singular thoughts don't have to be consistent with one another. You can feel and think one thing for a moment, then all of those thoughts could disperse like pollen in the wind, lost forever. I respect my mind for these kind of things, I really do. Every thought that contradicts how I know I feel creates a challenge for my heart. It's like my brain is trying to trick me into figuring out who I truly am. Poetry captures this, and shows that the transience of thoughts can be used to capture life's twists and turns and the beauty of it all. One moment you can feel at home in a person's arms, and the next you can feel like a stranger...but only you know what's truly there inside of you. <br />That's what this poem is about. Love is both fragile and infinite, but we are taught to constantly question it. This isn't a bad thing because all we want is something true (at least, I do). There are moments when I have been so angry or upset that I have questioned my love, and was then forced to look deep inside of myself to understand what I really feel. That's hard to do, sometimes. <br /><br />Loves and seasons pass alike<br />Their songs become kisses<br />from ghosts. Whispers<br />that stumble and falter trough dark rooms,<br />caressing my ears with<br />te tenacity of a distant bell<br />wrapped in a blanket.<br /><br />Faces, lips, and bodies. They<br />are notes, eaten from the<br />palm of a hand that once<br />held a symphony.<br />You are an incision in ice that was exposed to the sun.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-83295728011044826292008-12-06T10:11:00.000-08:002008-12-06T10:13:09.746-08:00Pastel colors<br />hues of blue and pink born from morning light<br />are too frail, too delicate<br />for his bedroom walls<br /><br />We lay in embrace<br />and kiss like slugs<br />clumsily, without direction<br />pulling at each others’ lips<br /><br />We breathe into each others mouths<br />and speak silent words like dead fish<br />putrid, slippery lines<br />from gaping mouths and bulging eyes<br />I know that this is nothing, yet<br /><br />Months later<br />I tilt my head backwards<br />and look out the window <br />above his bed<br />Orange trees burn flagrant <br />against a sky<br />that looks like the sea<br />In this light <br />his irises are scales<br />of a twinkling, majestic fish<br />and my eyes squint and burn<br />like the brightness of autumn leaves<br /><br />I, in the sky<br />He, in the sea<br />This room dazzles us with colorKatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-69090512034048353822008-12-05T10:34:00.000-08:002009-01-14T06:21:52.993-08:00I feel like I'm a part of something I can't escape. Everything around me is moving too fast and I'm moving too slow. I'm caught in a whirwind of black, white, and gray, trying to juggle too much at once and spreading myself too thin. I'm too in love. I'm too needy. I'm too tired. I'm too sick of academia. All I want it something real. Something that is simple and that I can explain. But life just isn't that way. I've spent so much time searching for challenges, and seeking out quasi-answers to unanswerable questions. I like to see the world from different perspectives...to push my mind, my body, and my soul to their limits just to find a dimension that doesn't exist, or a state of mind that has yet to be confounded. It has all exhausted me...worn me down into a straw man, feeble and frail to the touch. I feel like is if the wrong fingertips carressed me I would simply crumble and shriek and cry. Just floundering like the flounder I am.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-72681486143190929312008-10-20T07:08:00.000-07:002009-01-14T06:25:55.511-08:00I think it's time for my weekly trips to Woodstar to begin. The weather is cold- too cold. I was all excited for fall and then I remembered that cold weather makes me want to stay in bed all day watching DVDs and drinking hot cider. I just finished watching Muse's "H.A.A.R.P" DVD. It was fabulous. The cinematography was amazing for a live music DVD and Matthew Bellamy is a God. In general, but also on guitar and piano. <br />My room is just really really cold. <br />Well I guess it's off to Comstock for some coffee with the Nasshan.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-38114963419277273792008-10-13T09:55:00.000-07:002009-01-14T06:25:28.861-08:00mordecaiThe week of school before vacation was terrible. Just...so much work...so much coffee...and so much doubt. There was no need for the doubt and I got through the week, so I guessm there's no reason to talk about that any more. My life has been consumed by playing guitar, chilling with Paul, hanging out with my dan, scrounging for gas money, and reading for class. This vacation has been so relaxing. I finished everything I needed to and now I can just listen to music or play music with Dan/Sydney. <br />Last night everything kind of came out. I confronted the issue, and the fact that he understood where I was coming from says a lot about him. I will be by his side through everything and I really just want him to get his life on track again.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-48438736669130481042008-10-05T12:34:00.001-07:002008-10-05T12:40:43.324-07:00:)I had the most amazing birthday in the entire world. Seriously, there's no way it could have been better. <br /><br />Sparknotes:<br />-The great apple heist<br />-Making caramel apples for ourselves and the world <br />-Playing music<br />-Traveling to Amherst for wings<br />-Riky drawing a moustache on me<br />-Being with people I love<br />-Dancing, singing, hookah, and feeling awesome<br /><br />I'm so excited for Wednesday but not so much excited for the rest of the week. Then fall break comes and things are spectacular.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-34683114496056228922008-09-26T09:06:00.001-07:002009-01-14T06:23:03.465-08:00play that song until purple glitter emerges from the woods<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlkjnkc55W5BxCRZzioMUM5ilduICcl5GHUhxUqQZsx___9A7sQwo2w53q812Sd85ukzCN1N0pnF9KaLEyP46qkv_Ok4bTwKKSd42svvpQCmEoIg2GvFuqHbsjptgD7DHbXDMcKBoHoY/s1600-h/l_14373b94f9f63354cbb4c88c54504a38.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlkjnkc55W5BxCRZzioMUM5ilduICcl5GHUhxUqQZsx___9A7sQwo2w53q812Sd85ukzCN1N0pnF9KaLEyP46qkv_Ok4bTwKKSd42svvpQCmEoIg2GvFuqHbsjptgD7DHbXDMcKBoHoY/s320/l_14373b94f9f63354cbb4c88c54504a38.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250364147139121874" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixkqWszccgqetOx093-toZ3o3P9naIpCk1EibOWDIf_CzVkDr3oZmtqOtbweGj3BvvvnVAcxi51JYeF8tnYqoA-iYMh8GYCCYmHy-DuoIR2-Plp2mdwdmf8xkkJpChB6Vm2Ere-DqaHc/s1600-h/l_51647b801cdaa9c938e55cd91cf47bb8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixkqWszccgqetOx093-toZ3o3P9naIpCk1EibOWDIf_CzVkDr3oZmtqOtbweGj3BvvvnVAcxi51JYeF8tnYqoA-iYMh8GYCCYmHy-DuoIR2-Plp2mdwdmf8xkkJpChB6Vm2Ere-DqaHc/s320/l_51647b801cdaa9c938e55cd91cf47bb8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250364145172193906" /></a><br />Lethargy<br />Antibiotics<br />Paper-writing<br /><br />I can't make myself enjoy school right now. I've been trying, though. Met a really good vocalist from Umass. We're trying to get together a band and went to Panera last Tuesday to talk about what we want to do. He had the city from Coheed and Cambria's first album tattooed on his arm and I thought that was pretty rad. Reminded me of Kevin because he has a similar tattoo. Regardless of what I said in my last post, making new friends is awfully exciting. <br />I made my birthday list and there are like three things on it. A necklace, some booties, and a baseball shirt from AA. This is the post of sentence fragments. Oh well.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-17721230992514530322008-09-18T11:41:00.000-07:002009-01-14T06:23:44.938-08:00spring and by summer fallThe weather is changing and I am excited. Nothing evokes a warm feeling like putting on a hoodie and a scarf, or a pair of boots and a blazer. My birthday is coming up soon and I need to think of something fantastic to ask for. Clothes are unexciting and uncreative to me. <br /><br />I am slowly finding myself in a more positive place even though my dependency on caffeine is outrageous and my class readings are strangers to my eyes. My love for solitude has been replenished since returning to Smith and I find great pleasure in alone time. Maybe too much alone time. I don't really talk to many people around campus except for the people I already know and I feel like I may be wasting an opportunity to put myself out there as a person. Strangely I feel comfortable and settled with what I have, and when the time comes where I want more, I have the tools to do so. I don't need to have a lot of friends to be happy. There are at least 13 people in my contacts who I could have a four hour conversation with whenever I feel like it. That to me, is irreplaceable and special. I'd rather have close friends anyway. I find myself much more satisfied when people fall into my life unexpectedly and without force.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-33144727495663200842008-09-08T16:04:00.000-07:002008-09-18T11:40:10.428-07:00look what love gave us<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF292wwmxmBrHsp_MMSPuYM-usGtbH6CYXQHWEihx8c49g_sBzc8bC9erR4LmGIo9SJUzzDsrNXFt637fLhptS9X1CrC_SHNzNzZLbgNI5diQUnSiKRhAJaOWZ-1pocmCgp8lwbnK8c4/s1600-h/n597027171_1227260_8630.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF292wwmxmBrHsp_MMSPuYM-usGtbH6CYXQHWEihx8c49g_sBzc8bC9erR4LmGIo9SJUzzDsrNXFt637fLhptS9X1CrC_SHNzNzZLbgNI5diQUnSiKRhAJaOWZ-1pocmCgp8lwbnK8c4/s320/n597027171_1227260_8630.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244150180883427810" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4pSe7A2syH9sb4dWs9Rzg6mXnMCfl1ujTfPZkYidjy13UEmJtFGeYGjNDOQlH0_0kdn22URwNLe_n_8xIBCTLiPdHee1h8ur4Hq2m1X5ilxrBaKM47KnrFCpV3aFo9S_D5OTfQZWOWE/s1600-h/n597027171_1227538_5713.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4pSe7A2syH9sb4dWs9Rzg6mXnMCfl1ujTfPZkYidjy13UEmJtFGeYGjNDOQlH0_0kdn22URwNLe_n_8xIBCTLiPdHee1h8ur4Hq2m1X5ilxrBaKM47KnrFCpV3aFo9S_D5OTfQZWOWE/s320/n597027171_1227538_5713.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244150182139395698" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUYnG5yMqwJDW8cY3p2qdCfiS8btzEaAMziV3a_DmPfkyyXLn_4cWcT6AleVNes8Sj6IDbrg049pMcpZHkbaRGAlCuC3ZOO3YlTg2sDlXX0MkpMb5TUWKofeOzcQEjw53AHBcbPUGmEc/s1600-h/n597027171_1227328_6301.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUYnG5yMqwJDW8cY3p2qdCfiS8btzEaAMziV3a_DmPfkyyXLn_4cWcT6AleVNes8Sj6IDbrg049pMcpZHkbaRGAlCuC3ZOO3YlTg2sDlXX0MkpMb5TUWKofeOzcQEjw53AHBcbPUGmEc/s320/n597027171_1227328_6301.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244150186874039778" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxF61FGoLdkW9IL2uiYH9kHBH8N3dzBjYWiI6feGtjFdVILlpKgLn7FNCNmVjkYxA2eL8_ledYBOiwGaeZBMSRAdkhliaEUj7UY-I0al3FpW7CTGA8Z-1AGY0Kqlx4Yez8HIgYE0jmiQ/s1600-h/n597027171_1227438_7344.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxF61FGoLdkW9IL2uiYH9kHBH8N3dzBjYWiI6feGtjFdVILlpKgLn7FNCNmVjkYxA2eL8_ledYBOiwGaeZBMSRAdkhliaEUj7UY-I0al3FpW7CTGA8Z-1AGY0Kqlx4Yez8HIgYE0jmiQ/s320/n597027171_1227438_7344.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244150191956735090" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98LfStnqhX0i1nygQ_ewXPse5xa1DLk0GXyX_ORpbaDcpzaanEB6FDPyWCmMIpaayiJoWG0WPrA4RlmTQQ29QgTEoTqY0REPclHsr1dLBnWTZkmLvrayWhCdczwKd_MEQh7tbGt5Tw-A/s1600-h/n597027171_1227440_9930.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98LfStnqhX0i1nygQ_ewXPse5xa1DLk0GXyX_ORpbaDcpzaanEB6FDPyWCmMIpaayiJoWG0WPrA4RlmTQQ29QgTEoTqY0REPclHsr1dLBnWTZkmLvrayWhCdczwKd_MEQh7tbGt5Tw-A/s320/n597027171_1227440_9930.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244150192023299394" /></a>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-83884726752171569892008-09-03T06:16:00.000-07:002008-09-04T06:02:10.145-07:00when losing a mind is like losing a pair of car keysI lost my mind somewhere over the border<br />Can't remember my name or my favorite song<br />Words don't come easily anymore <br />But I guess somebody gave me this pen<br />Still though<br />It will never be my own pen<br />I don't know where that is<br />Someday I hope to meet my vocabulary<br />My birthday, my love, my music--all unexpectedly<br />Maybe encounter them in a dark alley one night<br />Lacerate them, then put them back together<br />Because they need to fit just right<br />With no gaps or spaces<br />Then I'll tell them to go home<br />That is<br />If I can recognize them in the first placeKatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-80532923174258533352008-08-24T16:39:00.000-07:002009-01-14T06:28:07.430-08:00'where does it hurt, baby-babe? i know your head hurts, i can feel it.'pondering the things I have learned:<br />i am becoming desensitized to my friends' drug use<br />i can make a pretty huge mess with a can of paint<br />shopping makes me depressed and thus, i hate it<br />car keys hide in the oddest placesKatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-25689518347051035352008-08-21T14:50:00.000-07:002008-09-03T06:21:46.494-07:00do you know what i love the most?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHjdkSwhXCdlqJ3_DfuixRQgar1ibMNG1AcoIij-plIXVaICfBIkw1-Kim1vCYxwLXZPseVSYCGzqzSNPrGr5BTw3QhzOQZinIHWo0lm0NJCiapG3em7jHYSapBlinp9eex_YtN0D_ec/s1600-h/IMG_2376.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHjdkSwhXCdlqJ3_DfuixRQgar1ibMNG1AcoIij-plIXVaICfBIkw1-Kim1vCYxwLXZPseVSYCGzqzSNPrGr5BTw3QhzOQZinIHWo0lm0NJCiapG3em7jHYSapBlinp9eex_YtN0D_ec/s320/IMG_2376.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237728257200524642" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1MHa4M14Uhw_q82_BmU4XD5MuldxjPp6vw0X34Qh_wckW0xEH1vUx41YJsaSTBJ0uHCPl5FtRwsJ2A1infC06Mq9XkUw3_kdBuBA1pPN37boVvtZCYhXgBnp9i6-YdK-vJKw57CBvOU/s1600-h/IMG_2378.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1MHa4M14Uhw_q82_BmU4XD5MuldxjPp6vw0X34Qh_wckW0xEH1vUx41YJsaSTBJ0uHCPl5FtRwsJ2A1infC06Mq9XkUw3_kdBuBA1pPN37boVvtZCYhXgBnp9i6-YdK-vJKw57CBvOU/s320/IMG_2378.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237728263191208050" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijexsjTxNG-IwDLMJ2sQYyr9tb9XCYNoqjaxkCqkmxDf-WbNcQuwg_Xp_9IdevAuIKuwucy0cDNGxL8d_rfaTiHG7cbbots7EvrWRgxyt44PjpU_xKqY2Eflsb3Ut-5eyTIoKeoIHHaZ4/s1600-h/IMG_2379.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijexsjTxNG-IwDLMJ2sQYyr9tb9XCYNoqjaxkCqkmxDf-WbNcQuwg_Xp_9IdevAuIKuwucy0cDNGxL8d_rfaTiHG7cbbots7EvrWRgxyt44PjpU_xKqY2Eflsb3Ut-5eyTIoKeoIHHaZ4/s320/IMG_2379.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237728265465731122" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHr2zpAhRKUChfqOONff980ymKI9sppvsnyi3HoCYpGrroBmPzG_1VItEDrXfBIkcp45Iz01070jdf5EKw9JRd9ycPdgCCp9BWlS-7iuah41hIKljeg2XISoayo1cIBZdUoVl6ne-IL0/s1600-h/IMG_2384.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHr2zpAhRKUChfqOONff980ymKI9sppvsnyi3HoCYpGrroBmPzG_1VItEDrXfBIkcp45Iz01070jdf5EKw9JRd9ycPdgCCp9BWlS-7iuah41hIKljeg2XISoayo1cIBZdUoVl6ne-IL0/s320/IMG_2384.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237728270559218546" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTb-3kAqHuzCtaDZOCrSsDC5g1cqMbgtRI7ztVbQVzCnu3-GeIyuNzgOaIfKXE9jY5ZJ2ii7JL4wUVoUDOt-J338UBET32ZKSLSopJ5B2NkhVdOX4phcpPQYoXziunvr-kTagi5lVdJCY/s1600-h/IMG_2302.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTb-3kAqHuzCtaDZOCrSsDC5g1cqMbgtRI7ztVbQVzCnu3-GeIyuNzgOaIfKXE9jY5ZJ2ii7JL4wUVoUDOt-J338UBET32ZKSLSopJ5B2NkhVdOX4phcpPQYoXziunvr-kTagi5lVdJCY/s320/IMG_2302.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237726596303041490" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZ2KejRnU9lg5zh66ehFv52qhVdfMCSs-LrsAtHrDUpLrDGNSo6ALciz9o6mmIDrUyswqtPrwewwl-xJ6IItdnNdkMf6wkNpgITTkmBnzpRmAhSxtBo14ASqXOTSqE_PgmKQ3lfEaMwo/s1600-h/IMG_2313.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZ2KejRnU9lg5zh66ehFv52qhVdfMCSs-LrsAtHrDUpLrDGNSo6ALciz9o6mmIDrUyswqtPrwewwl-xJ6IItdnNdkMf6wkNpgITTkmBnzpRmAhSxtBo14ASqXOTSqE_PgmKQ3lfEaMwo/s320/IMG_2313.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237726603476547026" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qSzTH2q3IqWcHScA2p-W_6LsxQQE8oYU1gWuZ4SVhypdoRCLJ-c_brAzRMhiVxAMpnEhwJrszohK4XZzi4ev1YaKZg-UVWo_j5pHuCYMlrbo-p5C5wfweya5u545tdeZ191PoesFdY0/s1600-h/IMG_2337.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qSzTH2q3IqWcHScA2p-W_6LsxQQE8oYU1gWuZ4SVhypdoRCLJ-c_brAzRMhiVxAMpnEhwJrszohK4XZzi4ev1YaKZg-UVWo_j5pHuCYMlrbo-p5C5wfweya5u545tdeZ191PoesFdY0/s320/IMG_2337.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237726606409498354" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGw6BQs8xjYOHom-GnPo5TKocgoqIkA3UgHNY5ReJldFxx4fKI-PtVH9thQs_XrLNzG-sHI7rzhczhs5vYHnCtTrO3eLqjcv_MJLmI4kJ5t-t5OaAtkqbqxUMYZp7r-FE7T_c84Jq6U4c/s1600-h/IMG_2345.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGw6BQs8xjYOHom-GnPo5TKocgoqIkA3UgHNY5ReJldFxx4fKI-PtVH9thQs_XrLNzG-sHI7rzhczhs5vYHnCtTrO3eLqjcv_MJLmI4kJ5t-t5OaAtkqbqxUMYZp7r-FE7T_c84Jq6U4c/s320/IMG_2345.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237726612944966738" /></a><br /><br /><br />The past fews days have been perfect and amazing in every way. Some days I look at the people I'm friends with and find myself so absolutely in awe of them that I wonder why I know them. Last Monday I went to a waterpark by the Portland bridge with Matt, Eddie, and Syd. There was a zipline, cliff jumping, kayaking, a giant waterslide and wakeboarding. We went on the blob and Matt launched me ten feet in the air, then the lifeguard yelled at me because Syd and I went on the trampouline and apparently it was disrupting the 'younger Brownstone visitors.' Because you know, we're both about 500 pounds and hugely tall. On Wednesday I took a spontaneous trip to Whitecastle with Dan, Jordan, and Riky. We decided that our Whitecastle cherry had to be popped at some point, so we took a scenic drive, smoked some weed, and raped Whitecastle of their double cheeseburgers. I'm almost happy that Panera didn't schedule me much for this week. All I've been doing is hanging out in various beautiful places. The other night we went to Dividend Pond and found ourselves surrounded by bats. They were swooping in between us and right above my head and it may have been one of the coolest things I've ever seen. <br /> Depsite all of the good stuff, I feel like I don't live at my house any more. It's really fucking with me. Technically this house is no longer mine, it's my dad's. And my mom's new condo that she's moving into isn't mine either, it's hers. I really have no home when I think about it. My mom and I file in and out at different times so we barely see each other. My dad is there, but he's not actually there. Whenever I look at Smith as home, it's fleeting and always lasts for about three days until I realize that I have an immense amount of trouble getting along with girls. I will never fit there, but I need to accept that and do what I can do to make myself happy. Last year I got so caught up in who was 'cool' on campus and who did this and that that I almost forgot who I was and what I love. <br />Not to sound self-centered or careless, but this year is all about refinding what I lost during my first year of college. I am bringing my electric, acoustic, bass guitar, recording speakers, and all of my recording equipment. I am going to make music like I have been all summer and keep really focused on my schoolwork. No sleeping past ten, no sitting around, and no late-night pizza. I also have to cut back on smoking weed...like, a lot. <br />I feel like suddenly being in a room alone for long periods of time is going to drive me nuts considering I've been with people pretty much all of the time this summer. If I'm not out, I'll give Syd or Trevor a call and we'll just hang out at my house and talk. Most nights during the week I'm somewhere crazy like camping in Canton, driving to New York for no reason, staying at Dan's, or he's staying at my house. It hurts to be away from him for three days...what about two weeks? Every time I talk about leaving we end up having to wipe each other's eyes and it absolutely makes me miserable.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-58154166395466786012008-08-14T12:20:00.000-07:002008-08-14T12:59:01.080-07:00good night moon, good night love, good bye everything<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3UurqTpIqqCDYm4p9ZY0eORjKzYCtb8WyV9X7YMQ9mMo24XRjg6dgOgRcWN63DfSi_XUemxm4ASnphcokipPbyAd-8xiC14G0CGL5sRw8ZfL3v-wycpbH6dYYx9n_MumQtpdY7AYSSw/s1600-h/meteor.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3UurqTpIqqCDYm4p9ZY0eORjKzYCtb8WyV9X7YMQ9mMo24XRjg6dgOgRcWN63DfSi_XUemxm4ASnphcokipPbyAd-8xiC14G0CGL5sRw8ZfL3v-wycpbH6dYYx9n_MumQtpdY7AYSSw/s320/meteor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234461484928700914" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq60yNQiFkiNYz9aABwS92gSsu__xNzNHP8agsvftDHn-DK44W94WZLKYdiEOwSVt6ZMN0JsPt4uIoBzkHwcA1EA-Vk9L9_tMd5DQ3rpc_DRgX0vx9WBTZP9EQkcT_rM9xlk7IcYEfSRs/s1600-h/ifrbee.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq60yNQiFkiNYz9aABwS92gSsu__xNzNHP8agsvftDHn-DK44W94WZLKYdiEOwSVt6ZMN0JsPt4uIoBzkHwcA1EA-Vk9L9_tMd5DQ3rpc_DRgX0vx9WBTZP9EQkcT_rM9xlk7IcYEfSRs/s320/ifrbee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234459140231820530" /></a><br />I feel like I'm finally growing up. I knew this when I was in Williamsburg with Rachel and Nicole and I honestly couldn't have cared less about all of things I couldn't afford, what other people were wearing, and how much skinnier than me all of the hipster girls were. To me, just seeing my friends and talking with them and listening to them was twenty times more important than anything happening on the streets around me. It was like Brooklyn just sat quietly in the background, and the only truths in the scene were myself, my friends, and the words coming out of our mouths. New York honestly fascinates me, but I don't think I could live there. I don't think I'll ever get it. I thought Williamsburg was beautiful but for some reason it made me sick to my stomach and I have no idea why. <br />This summer I have been to so many places. I haven't even traveled far. I discovered the most incredible places in my town and state and I feel like I've taken Connecticut for granted all of this time. It's not a 'cool' place, I get that, but there is so much of it that remains serene and completely untouched by humanity. The other night I went camping with Riky, Erin, Dan, Taylor, and Jordan in Canton. We set up a tent next to this brook on Erin's family property so that light pollution wouldn't affect our view of the Perseids. The sky looked exactly like the picture and by the end of the night I counted 58 shooting stars. I ended up putting a blanket on the ground and lying with Dan until we were 100% mesmerized by the sky and fell asleep.<br />Now that my allergies are coming through full force, recording/finishing this song is mighty difficult. Sydney listened to it and told me that I must have subconsciously ripped off Miley Cyrus, and she's probably right, despite the fact that I've never even heard one song by her. Or maybe I have, and the line I ripped off just hung out in the back of my mind long enough so that I would later plagarize its melody by accident.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-37690010884329722702008-08-11T09:02:00.000-07:002008-08-11T09:37:51.823-07:00when you can't help but fight a losing battleI'm almost done recording "In the Heart of a Town." I'm not terribly proud of these lyrics because I think they're generic. Despite this, they fit nicely with the tone of the song, and besides, why should I ever be embarrassed by lyrics if they're what I'm feeling? If what I'm feeling is generic, then my lyrics are going to be generic and I will accept that, haha. <br /><br /><br />When it all comes down to<br />Two weeks and two days<br />No, two weeks and one day<br />We need to remember that what we have<br />Will live in the heart of this town<br /><br />As far as I lost myself in this game<br />It was a good risk to take<br />Because when I'm not here<br />I will still feel you shaking the limbs of my tree<br /><br />But I know I'm better off alone<br />and I can take this<br />Until I find my way home<br />You know I'm better off alone<br />and you can take this<br />Until I find my way home<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />There's that classic song topic about having to leave a loved one behind. Pretty typical and I guess it happens to everyone at some point in their lives. My time just happens to be now.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-41040181588209219082008-08-09T13:00:00.000-07:002009-01-14T06:30:18.354-08:00and all my ideologies I found beyond the seaYesterday.<br /><br />Good.<br />Best. Taco Bell. Ever.<br />Going to see Rancid<br />What happened during the first verse of "Journey to the End..." <br />Watching Riky carry Dan down three flights of stairs and a street<br />Taking an amazing nap at Erin's<br />Not having to work<br /><br />Terrible.<br />Stopping at 4 closed Taco Bells before finding that really good one<br />Dan breaking his fibula during Sick of it All<br />Is it true?<br />Going to a country club<br />Being walked in on by the mom. fuck my life.<br />Running out of money five days before I get my paycheck<br /><br /><br /><br />I'm not even going to attempt to put this into words or anything at all. Nothing in this world would be able to project what I'm feeling and depict it with justice. I guess I'm just another fool, but damn does it feel good. No matter how much everything will hurt me in the longrun, I wouldn't turn this down for anything.Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-51228919392077560712008-08-07T14:33:00.000-07:002008-08-11T09:29:14.628-07:00i write poems when i'm on vacationThis river flows gold<br />from east to west<br />from shoulder to shoulder<br />so I cradle it<br />and know that there is but one constant<br />between these bustling shores<br />And that this is just a revelation <br />from the shady banks of the Tiber<br /><br />(4/22/05)Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4167362014297789400.post-86811179414018906872008-08-07T06:45:00.000-07:002008-08-07T10:01:07.474-07:00sometimes spirits live on these wallsOne of my favorite things to do when I wake up is to flip through old notebooks and look for interesting sounding sentences or phrases. Every once in a while I'll post three or four strings of words that I may find compelling for one reason or another.<br /><br />"Let's make a pact to forget all of the facts in the world around us<br />And live together as the heart of this town" (7/22/06)<br /><br />"All I can think about is the sky, the feeling of the floor against the soles of my feet, and the trueness of the sticky humidity that leaves a glossy sheen over my skin and turns my hair into bales of hay."<br /><br />"When a gun is fired, our brains are part of the recoil. We breath in and out and relax because there is an element of finality to the situation."Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09588877360699156693noreply@blogger.com0