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this is still fresh2.17.04
'did you talk to him?' 'no, i won't be able to.' smirk, 'oh, what, is he in jail or something?' 'no, terry...he killed himself...' what? what? what? what?! uhnnnnnnh... 'yeah, terry, he killed himself.' I heard drums everything shook, my body shook, my hair, my eyes, my teeth I dialed someone's number to just tell someone, someone objective and strong. funny, a friend of hers jumped in front of a truck the day before. feel myself separating from flesh, floating above and beside I am sheer, off-planet, a static-y holograph. smirk. only coming through in waves. so many things he gave me in my house everywhere my eyes fall I wore the brown boots he gave me for the first time yesterday, walking to school, smiling because I could feel the imprints of his toes the narrowness of his ankles. funny, I was saying my practice from the Kalachakra, the 3-verse version, in rhythm to my steps in his Docs the first time I could make it all the way through... I hung up the phone and looked for them everything in sharp-focus, zoom detail drums beating. I wanted to hold them, sniff the insides to see if I could get a whiff of him I could I wanted to lick them, to sleep with them like two awkward brown teddys. I got online to tell my professors I wouldn't be there because I couldn't stop crying. I stared at the screen, moving the pointer back and forth across the tool bar 'Help' the button transformed into 3-D with each pass HelpHelpHelp I stroked the word with the pointer, I PETTED it, wondering if I clicked it, if I could rewind or fast-forward erase. It's only been a week I am still sheer 'a mother's son has left me sheer' 6 suicides in one week said the Funeral Director. I wish I could avoid February altogether from now on. We had agreed to quit smoking. They said the garage floor was littered with cigarette butts. I had been rolling my own, judiciously, until then I bought a pack of pre-rolled American Spirits, the sky blue ones. That was Our brand. I don't like going to work anymore I see him everywhere there, bouncing on his toes and beaming. I find myself thinking, 'oh! I gotta tell him this...oh... ...oh! Josh would love thi...s... I still think of him as accessible, even though I saw him I saw him dead in his fancy fucking queer suit I swear I thought his eyelids fluttered. I keep thinking it's merely an elaborate prank he has devised to shake me to my very toes...oh. I suppose it is. I have visions of him sitting up, a vampire-zombie, biting me. I just compulsively ate a Wendy's #4 combo- the most I've eaten this week. hope I can keep it down. I'd like to puke all over him. Dead. His lips were still red I know I saw him breathing How long will I feel so sick so blurred? I smell some cologne on some passing faggot, it's him. I see the back of someone's buzzed head- him. everything, everything is a reminder. I hate him. I was afraid I would punch his corpse when I saw it. But I was only afraid when I saw him, tricking me, lying there. Just afraid.
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I was not clear at all when Tim left. I don't know the date, because even at the funeral, when I tried to think of what day it was, my mind reeled away from knowing. Even now, if I sat down and tried, I could find in my head somewhere what day it was. I don't want to know what day it was. Because he can't take 1/365th of every year for the rest of my life for himself. Fuck that. The boy I knew wouldn't have wanted me to remember him that way anyway.
Been there. Feel you. It was still a beautiful read.
I had to read it again.
You're amazing. And, I hope, a little closer to peace today.
i do feel a lighter and more righteous anger; fuel for sculpture. give me rocks, give me stones, so i can study 'em.
so i can study 'em.
puncture wound
icepick...
give me the pnuematic chisel, now, please.
i promise to wear all of the protective gear, earplugs and everything.
can you wear an ipod and earplugs simultaneously?
that would be as dreaming.
gouge away, you can gouge away
stay all day
if you want
to