i hear you sing a golden hymn

I'm so tired/burnt out that I hardly feel that I can do this entry justice. But for the sake of keeping this a daily/bi..daily blog I'll do it. I guess that I don't have a concise narrative, or a cute list so I'll list thoughts. This can be like..a new thing that I do. Hooray.

Random thoughts.

--Catherine Wing saying that words are blunt tools was really interesting to me. I don't know if that was a quotation that she stole or what. But it just really drove home how I've been feeling lately. Not being able to communicate anything really and not wanting to at the same time. I mean, I know she meant it about writing, but it applies to conversations really as well.

--I hate going out the door by the front that I have Conservation of Natural Resources in. I remember last spring when I had class in that room with Dr. Pritchard. We opened that door at the same time from opposite sides. I didn't know him that well. But I wasn't entirely surprised when he killed himself. It was strange though, to think that he was there at the door this time last year. I wish suicide wrote itself all over someone.

--Conor Oberst says, it's better to bury your sadness. And I am tired of being sad. Because no one wants to be upset or depressed. So when I start to feel upset I ignore it and train my mind to think of other things. But I can still feel the pressure build up under my cheeks. And it's like it just rises and drips out my ears.

--Marie asked me twice this week if I was "okay". Do I not look okay this week?

I have the rough draft of a poem I'm working on.

Untitled

Mornings that I wake up alone
I think of you
and stretch my legs under the covers

I stand slowly
walk palm to the wall
and wipe dizzy from my eyes
that whistle black and light
a tea kettle

I smell home fries and coffee
in my hair
and remember you
asking loudly across my eyes

are you done

but it was still my second refill
and the sugar was settled on the bottom

you left a tip and I did not look at it
and instead piled empty creamer containers
into pyramids

and you asked me am I done
as your thick eyelids
pressed down and you divided your unfinished toast
and placed each triangle to a corner of your plate

I told you that the caffeine makes me
feel better
but you think say there are other ways

When I asked what you meant
you looked too closely
and answered too quickly
that you didn’t know

And this morning
in gray curtain light
I count
all the ways you
thin my blood