sort of wrote sentences while on the train tonight:

my grandfather hears whispering and misunderstands shouting.

two hikers stay away from the waterfall and wait - a third almost slips into the pool.

at the dinner table i can notice my developing thoughts.

my young uncle on my dad's side rides up to the lake house in the car with my grandmother on my mom's side. when they stop at the diner, they both worry about the cat they have in the car.

when i touch my earlobe a spider falls onto my green jersey.
i squish her with my pointer finger.

i think i should write down my thoughts about our four wheel vehicles.

when i attempt to write about a new layer of thoughts,
i only remember the thoughts about the four wheel vehicles,

which still cannot be explained well.

that act of writing thoughts, like the act of watching a video of a monkey pulling a dog's tale,
begets layers of non-sequiturs.

i think gay marriage is 'okay'.

i want to add 'beer bottle opening' to the story i am currently revising.
while i am working on one story, i get ideas for another story.

i am working on neither story, and feel like my ideas are for a different type of story altogether or no story altogether, and i am perpetually working on stories that i never finish.

... from something:

On their first break, at the damn where a few trails converge, where a woman with buggy-blue eyes and pale skin cooks on a tiny stove while looking up at small brown birds circuiting from a tree out and over a lake, Jack eats a Chewy Low Fat S'mores Bar and an apple. Chet also eats a Chewy Low Fat S'mores Bar. He leans on a metal railing which hikers used to hang bear bags on before bears became too smart and hoisted them up. Then humans became smarter and invented bear canisters and mandated them. The woman with buggy-blue eyes sat on her bear canister. Jack checks his map. A man hiker approaches and asks Chet if they are from Brooklyn. The man hiker lives near Jack in Brooklyn. The man hiker talks about some stuff he did yesterday in the Adirondacks with his wife, whom stayed at the rented cabin while the man hiker 'bags' Algonquin Mountain. Chet says, "Biked sixty miles my ass," later when they are discussing the man hiker. They laugh at the idea of the man hiker, his highway enthusiasm, his middle-aged 'man on the move' groove. At the next fork, after Marcy Damn, they take another break, for water this time and the man hiker comes down the right prong of the fork, backtracking, looking lost, touching his sweaty red bandanna and furrowing his brow. Jack reassures him of the correct direction. The man hiker tells them about a hard to find trail to a lookout you can find descending Marcy from the south going north. Then he goes down the trail with his large calve muscles dimpling like a stupid chicken, one that feathered itself and ripped its own wings off before signing up for slaughter. Later, when Jack and Chet are hiking a steep rocky trail for the first time in the trip, they joke that the man hiker is about to fall, tumbling from the wooded hill to their left and onto the trail, brush himself off and ask to hike with them, presumptuously and doofus-ly.   

BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

i feel like i'm bad at blogging, like i'm inconsistent and that maybe if i was at least consistent i wouldn't be so bad.

i don't know where to really place blogging within the scope of things i do.

i started blogging in order to just put poems somewhere other than in files on a computer or in moleskins or marble notebooks.

then, for a while, i only worked on poems in files and notebooks with the intention to submit them.

i've sort of submitted some things but there are many other 'unfinished' poems just sort of 'laying around' that i don't have the energy to work on or improve by working on in small or large amounts.

i don't want to think about like rules of writing, things that i like about writings, things that i want to see in my writing that are similar to things in other people's writing that make my life more interesting in a way that makes me feel like i can contribute or make me want to be like them and do things like them.

i basically just want to skateboard. but my skateboard is far away. why do i always want things that are far away. i always want to go to the Adirondacks and always feel nostalgic for the Adirondacks and i consider them far away.

this post seems like just a lot of bitching. maybe i'm at that point where bitching will help me change my thinking.

i don't want to be a person whose regular patterns involve bitching. maybe i should just accept who i am.

am i a stupid person. i feel like whatever i'll describe myself as right now will not be good.
so i definitely feel stupid.

there was this time i was at like a water chlorinating facility and i had a pool filtration job and was learning about chlorine and i kept thinking i want to get a suntan so i kept standing directly in the sun and rotating my arms.

i feel like some 'punk' music just improved my confidence

don't know why i have been having bad feelings

don't know why i don't spend as much time outside as i used to

i feel like i unwittlingly decreased the amount of time i spend outside

by thinking it is important to concentrate on concentration and information

and not just because the last season was winter

i sleep for 8 hours.
i wake up at 10am.
chicken nuggets cook in the toaster oven,
as i check my email.
i eat chicken nuggets

as i read an article titled 'The Layoff."
a lethargic feeling enters my body and moves
up and down like a wave in a dirty tray in a sink.
my body moves the empty plate
from my bed and puts water into my mouth.

when she moves my arms i lose my page.
when she moves i think of you.
the market loses 150 points on my birthday.
a kitten lives inside a snowball on my birthday.
four hours of work remain, as i think about reheating beans.

spend more time on your poems.
capitals presence of capitals
are important in poems.
increase line breaks to slim
down your
poem
(s).

select a small cup of coffee
from the coffee machine.
finish reading "The Layoff."
instructing yourself is important
in life.

a rock in the bowl knocked me off my skateboard.
i feel vaguely distraught by my lack of original thoughts.
at easter dinner i put my head in my hand.
it is impossible to resurrect from the dead.
at easter dinner i stared into my coffee.
a piece of ham rolled in the sole of my sock.
i comb my hair a lot after the shower.
my hair is so bad. i feel bad about my hair.
i watch thelma and louise
on the morning after easter.
i want to go to the gym, but the gym is far
away. i put my head in my coffee at easter.
i'm going to heat up some pizza, maybe.
i'm going now.

i feel 'lost'
black black snow
switchback
sort of insurgency
'whales'

sometimes when i feel i'm tired and continously fall asleep at work and on the subway,

i get back to my apartment and experience a 'second wind.'

tonight i went to the gym, when i got back to my apartment.

i walked, then ran(3 1/2 blocks), to the gym in shorts and a t-shirt.

i didn't feel cold.

the most people in the gym at any one time was seven. three bros were doing a stations rotation type workout while they had a laptop open, playing an instructional video for reference. one of the guys was a trainer that i see there all the time. one of the seven people was this skinny kid with glasses and thin hair. i felt like it was his first night at the gym, which was weird because it was so late. it was 11:05pm, when i got there. i tried to work out for an hour, but i ran out of shoulders-isolating repetitions. i should have worked a different muscle group besides the shoulders and abdominal muscles, which i also worked a little. the shoulders and abdominal muscles are not really 'connected'. i left at approximately 11:35pm. i feel like i should have worked out longer. i didn't want to just mess around with light weights. at some point i felt like i was making advances by being at the gym that late and therefore i could leave at any point and still be ahead. it's 51 degrees; i just checked.

Long Island

blue eye

birds and dryer sheets

5,000 * 13 

27,000 * 10

banana ziti