wisdom from resident at: 207 evergreen

1. we're all works in progress. have patience with your slowly baking body; you need time to become you.
2. it's okay to not know every detail about every band that you like. leading to...
3. like what you like and own the shit out of it. the only thing that i can't respect is seeing someone deny what they're passionate about.
4. make sure you have at least one person who'll push you. having someone to keep our dreams in check is important when we doubt our desires.
5. forgiveness is crucial to personal development. never question forgiveness.
6. when something strikes you as beautiful, brilliant or shakes everything up, let it be known how meaningful that person/experience/object/art form is to you.
7. if you do what you feel compelled to do (within reasonable parameters) you'll never doubt fate.
8. you discover new wisdom when you re-read a book. do it often.
9. take pleasure in small things that are usually overlooked. ie. warm socks, sunglight at a certain time (9am, my bedroom at home), open washing machines, music matching up with your surroundings.
10. look for character- this goes beyond people. buy an old couch instead of a new one, accept scarves from your grandma. you'll save money and feel more connected with what you're using.
11. intimacy with another person (not necessarily romantic) is what compels us to search time and space for that "something." all we want to know is that someone feels the same way we do.
12. if a song inspires you to run, run.
13. question why you're acting the way you're acting. it makes it easier for all parties involved and you'll know yourself better.
14. keep your hands open. symbolically and metaphorically shows your willingness towards whatever happens.
15. don't write sappy, 16-year-old esque blog posts about your self-proclaimed wisdom at 1:30 in the morning because it is, in fact, self-proclaimed. you'll most likely be over-tired and regret it in a few hours. eventually you'll remember that no one reads your blog anyway and that it was written as a self-checklist of sorts.
16. forget the second to last item on this list.

nice 69 bag.

it's the build-up to something new

blooming, bellowing, bursting

hit the surface

and open your wide lime eyes.

so long, princeton

regrettably, time's come to send you on your way

in retrospect

it worked out.

a posting from my stickies pt. 2

ampersand

every writer knows that you have to feel

what you're saying

for it to have meaning to anyone else.

they can sense the insincerity

the mcsquared experiments

i want to write about something other than you

----------------------

hodgepodge

el malecon-174 & bway

Chapstick 8

Aquariums

Sugar Scrubs

Apples

Socks

Frozen Yogurt

Jewelry that means something

----------------------

Everyone has imperfections but yours seem to be the common bare-minimum.

You cannot say the words that need to be heard

Words like

Sorry

I love you

I miss you

Are lost like coins in an old winter coat.

Sometimes lips can form these words

paper doilies and thick construction paper

pressed together with the hope that something will come of this.

the pads of thumbs squeeze and dab

a little glue,

sticky with confusion

sweet with intoxication,

a sprinkle of glitter that you won't appreciate.

we're standing on a path that i've only ever been on twice,

never with you.

but here in my mind, we're together.

i like when you speak truthfully

and speak the thoughts of my own heart

that i've been too meek to share.

if only you'd be interested in hearing how

out of all of the burning links

out of every sharp stud of gravel on my driveway

you're the only one that i gravitate towards.

fabric scraps

a record store in ithaca

frozen yogurt

socks

chapstick

aquariums

apples

piano keys

finger painting

it's only good when it hurts.

sorry to steal your thunder, john mellencamp.

good eats.

when a heat wave causes a blackout on your block,

this is how you restock the fridge.

summer 2010 nostalgia

looking out from behind cheap frames,

i'm burning under the heat that

we look for eight months of the year.

an album is on repeat in the background.

this girl's got a whiny voice

but she's speaking the words i'm too ashamed to admit.

feeling feminine

i turn to smile at the sky,

knowing that somewhere

sometime

you'll embrace the magic

of shared experiences.

the mc-squared think tank: three & four

fumble & patience

vibrating beneath my fingertips

the world seems to buzz with possibility.

lacing up courage

i acknowledge that i'll fumble

for words

whose definitions

escape my tongue

in moments of pressing urgency.

pulse pulse.

prepare for condescending stares

and lack of passion.

patience, lackluster magazine

paper mache the pages you've torn out

and construct a stronger will;

you always looked good in a suit.

mine.

unearthing a coach bag at a garage sale for $12 is a find in itself. finding a grainy photo with this message on the back in the bag is the kind of thing that makes your day.

back text: When you leave for 1 1/2 minutes like I do your food will disappear (most of it.)

sometimes it's better to give in.

drafts

sin destinario

I'm thinking about how the movies we like the most say something that we silently recognize everyday

sin destinario

Free donovan frankenreiter

sin destinario

I'd lie taylor swift

sin destinario

Chris playing angry birds - "Roll bitch roll." Mike-"That's what I say when i'm having sex."

sin destinario

If i have a paper stop sign, does that mean i can change the course of life? Ripple effects

sin destinario

No one belongs here more than you

sin destinario

S

sin destinario

"So do men and boys announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love."-middlesex

sin destinario

July 9th john and kenny's bday ithaca?

sin destinario

"sorry for coming onto you, you're just really hot." Delete. Never thinking about this again.

sin destinario

Foursquareeditions

sin destinario

No intentions dirty projectors

sin destinario

Cricket press

sin destinaro

Periphescence

natural

moss green and tree trunk brown

i'm running along a stream

that we once dreamed to sail

years ago.

soft guitar and subdued tones

of belonging and nostalgia

fill the space between us two.

take my hand, friend

we've got time.

the mc-squared think tank: two

clever.

press gently but with conviction.

mechanics trigger signals

convey messages

and place the lines and dashes

of a self-created vocabulary

on a "screen;"

lights and buzzes of something we want to see

but isn't there.

i probably

subconsciously

think i'm clever

because i'm writing about the typing process,

thus urging the reader to question how he or she views technology

while still illuminating the symbolic facade of a real-life friendship.

sounds impressive,

seems to hold importance.

provides future readers with an answer to the,

"what event in the author's background caused her to write this piece?"

question,

makes one lick pages and pause

actually stop to ponder, "am i thinking?"

satisfaction.

i've done what i needed.

i heard

or read

from a professor,

or a band,

or an author

that once a writer releases the thought

on paper

or a blog

or scribbled on the back of a nj transit receipt (see figure 1: Hillsdale to NY Penn Wed. 07/07)

it is no longer his or hers;

it belongs to the collective whole.

so do with this as you will.

call me clever

and smile

at how everything you already knew

was put into words.

but give yourself some credit-

you wrote this, too.

here's your postcard

standing on the harbor's edge

ankles sense that the grass carpet is a bit too sharp,

too plastic.

"whaler tested, corpse approved" reads the price tag attached.

overpowering sight and sound,

the salt breeze makes the air thick

and the tongue swell.

"this is bigger than myself," you think.

through shaded eyes,

you swear that you see jay and daisy pulling up the anchor of their boat.

white teeth dazzle menacingly as they smile at one another,

enthralled by their upcoming escape

and the rebirth of

a dead relationship

that never existed.

the heat seems to shake this scene

and your certainty in reality wavers.

you blink, and yet, they remain.

seemingly euphoric

the facts of their story come back to you.

"this is not right," you conclude.

"he is in love and she is empty."

she was normotic,

but all he wanted

was to believe in the delusion

that was her perfection.

the mc-squared think tank

murmurous.

in my dream i'm riding that bike i always wanted

("always" equating to last month.)

it's dusk

and an electric blue horizon lies low over the deep green grass.

"he and i have hope," i conclude. "just different types."

murmurous like overconfident psychologists

my friends are projections of american psychos.

i look at our shadows

and see only a silhouette of tippi hedren.

these friends

follow me down the immutable lane

while i wait for night,

for morning,

for a different time.

comprehension.

you're dependent on continuity

while i seek change.