i just want to be sane. i want to have even tempered posts. why can't i have that? can't i have a smartly planned life. can't i have something solid so i can work and think about these crazy, undesirable situations instead of living them, caught up in them so harshly i can't coherently describe them. can't i stand somewhere on a shore, like montauk, looking nicely at the world. half dead. can't i be half dead. can't i just kill myself. why haven't i. i've thought of it. who hasn't. why haven't i done it. why haven't we all just died yet. if it's all so bad. why haven't i slipped away to a dangerous place and jumped, or cut, or pulled the trigger.

sometimes i feel like i'm doing things for the wrong reason. a sentence or desire of mine wants to beat someone at something. when i feel this is happening i subdue myself. i think it is better if i'm subdued. i am more creative when i'm subdued. i feel a soft, high-pitch tension in my neck. one time my teacher used a sentence from our work as an example. for a moment i thought it would be one of my sentences. it wasn't. the sentence was very good. i'm trying to re-create the sentence in my head. it was something like 'the dogs and cats chase each other respectively'. the sentence was better than that. something very good has been lost.

his sentences repel the decisive ego half hidden within their softness.

the trippy song by animal collective
was heavily discussed. they mostly talk of trippy things.

bubbles that come out with ants,
and your pushed down potions
fly out the crank window. the cat tail caught in the crank window, luckily.

a number of ms paint pictures show your feelings.

the sketchy way you look in the ms paint picture
tells me we're frustrated.

the trippy things consistently rise in his world views.

i'm looking at ms paint and feeling sad.

a panda bear bends the bamboo with ease.
the trippy song inspires a frustrated ms paint thing.

he lies on the floor with the angry cats.

enough has happened for me to see Aloysha with ingenuity.

they withhold my wages for the sick.

my boredom types on the invisible keys until august.

with three spikes, the sentence fell into the radiator
and hung like a bat.

if i want the drums to stop i'll sign a different lease.

they carried Aloysha away last night,
the organic juices rising with her loon birds.

the walls in him drench. six cartons of white rice fall
from the spinning bike.

cross eyes step over the snow

we feel strongly for bindles

i could grab the pine branch by tv light

while she sips on the bark

i don't know about those abstract sentences

on my night before day off forever

this is blue, in a deep hulk of snowed rocks

living near the train doesn't benefit my life,
my life wasted dealing with tense.
the pool players dance with the perfect tense.

the savage overtakes the subway stop on his skateboard.
we emerge from the subway and freeze for twenty minutes.

two bubble jackets, raised in the neighborhood,
find the train with ease.

GoogleReader is under the influence
of three cups of coffee
or a few beers with friends
the energy you'll need
to fill the air in pyramids.
he reads the AP release.
the AP release dodges his eyes
in waves and sandy shifts.
1,000(+) unread items
VEGANDAD
CHINESE POETRY
the heart is a book bag.
the store clerk knows
exactly what to say to the people
who will not buy anything.
she does not judge them.
breaking news, barricade breached,
one man sustained injuries.
fire placed under control.
the red-head closes his eyes
and watches TV sitting straight up.

Something going on behind glass involves a turtle.

Life downsizes along the lake.

I’m going to be heartbroken inevitably.

Beneath the heart a complete bucket rusts.

We always imagine the branch-hidden field where the drugs kick in.

I want to exist where drugs kick in.

the man with the blue hat skips steps,
the scarfed woman doesn't.

i sleep above the vacant
native american novelty store.
i sleep with open eyes.

as i'm reading a nytimes article online
my eyes close twice and my brain falls asleep twice.
after waking up the second time,
i read a paragraph that says the company the man
worked for played no role in his scheme.
i slowly fall asleep again,
then wake up, thinking: the company
is like water to a water skier.
then i see a seatbelt falling into water
that is rushing past a boat.
i'm falling asleep again;
everything. . . the whole world is falling
in to the water-skier's water.