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sentimental_value
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(_)
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torn photographs
underneath the dust
remind you of times in black-and-white
nobody's ever seen
clothes like in a dress-up box
old christmas ornaments passed down
frayed from so many hands now
not allowed to touch
handprints
made in preschool
red blue yellow paint white paper splash
preserved between plastic sheets
in a photo album
all these things
priceless loved
memory contained within aging knicknacks
is it the same way with me
even through all my self-imposed tears
cracks evilness
i would be so grateful just
like stuffed animals smile upon the bed
if you would still love me
despite dust of evil
on my broken china doll head
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060312
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bricks
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My dad had just gotten done yelling at me to go to bed, and I was just zipping up my fly when I saw this small rectantuglar wooden box sitting on the dryer. I picked it up and carefully examined it, the way a 7 year old does, twirling it between my thumb and fore finger as I walked out of the bathroom. This was something new and enigmatic to me at the time, I had never seen it lying around until now. As I stepped out my dad caught sight of me with the box, and I saw his expression change to rage. "Go to your room, NOW!" he screamed. He snatched the thing right out of my hand and put it in his pocket, then began to shove me down the hall. I think I cried because I was so scared and had no idea what I had done. I triggered something, I had hit some soft spot, and evidently I hit it hard. I went to my mom later and she told me it was something he placed a lot of sentimental value on, something from his first marriage. I found out he had been married before, to someone my mom called a psychopath. She had run her car head on into a freightliner a few years after they had married and my dad never really got over it. I don't dare lay a finger on any of those sentimental objects anymore.
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060312
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three words
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when_i_sneeze
i_care_in_italics
sentimental_value
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201001
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amy committee
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this is much more the story teller
that is about something else.
i'm afraid.
it still sounds like abuse.
have you been whipped?
that's my life guys
but forgive me for once again
trying to ruin
some
evangelist's happiness.
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201003
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Raina
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placing too much importance on things and people I should have moved on from long ago.
blood relatives
lovers
material items
must let them all go
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201003
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amy committee (re_alisma)
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you might not remember but something happened in the culture that ruined the winningness of this thing. call it 9/11. seems correct. not that i support 9/11, it ruined me too. don't call tech support either, i'm told by the ethers
so - since then it has been about addiction and, moreso, failure. often addiction can be about a search for meaning as well. if you want to talk about the negatives of our inability to connect in any meaningful way? keep proclaiming your love for a color and some crazy words on a screen... looks good, i guess.
it didn't have time to be more positive. you might not remember this time adequately. they want you to be , more or less , less mixing (pious) and if you show up to any job (as far as i can tell) with this attitude and without a ring on your finger or significant sacrifice of cash resources on beauty supplies -- makeup, good shampoo, lots of shoes, purses that cost too much
this is what you are to them those who have procured wives and girlfriends
get ready for it
here it is
a jezebel.
that's my generation.(boom boom boom)
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201014
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