blOgbuefi

writing to know, knowing thru being, being for writing... this is me, writing about the one thing i know, which is myself... and even that is sometimes a mystery...

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

new morning slumber song

i am awake and it's very late, to the point of being very early.

and the bird's are charming songs from the distanced woods (i didn't even know birds began singing this early/late)

in the loneliness of night, when i can sense being all alone in the darkness and stillness at my window looking at the sky,

i wonder if the rays of light shining in my window
and the faces in the glass
may reflect some mirror phases and moon-like shinings
into morning dew and sherbet dreams

awake and alone i think of you
and restless, cannot sleep.

the silver shadows, branches encrusted in spinning artificial lamplight,
comb lightly at the air, like slick wet fur,
bristling with the tension and the contact.

the diamond eyes in the distance light my way to shadows
and fill my heart with sharpness and a tearing that opens up and billows out
and parachutes me

catapults me
inward outward backward and toward
the new morning.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

call me a realist, thank you

so i discovered this weekend that i am quite the pessimist.

ha, go figure.

(i prefer "realist," but whatever.)

after talking to my friend dave and thinking about various relationships i've had with people, i realize:
love's got nothing to do with it.
love doesn't mean anything.
love doesn't change things.

sure it's nice, and i am in love.

but what does that mean?!

the way i see it, love doesn't keep life from happening, and all the circumstances of necessity and duty can't be compromised for love.

i worry that i've fallen in love, and that won't change anything.
because i want it to.
i want to honor the person and the time and the feeling.

but i know that in a few years, i will be graduating and going somewhere else, moving away.
love won't change that.

and i'm not going to compromise my opportunities to be close to the one i love. (should i?)

so then what? is that really it? is that how things end?
you say you love someone
you give your heart away
you give yourself
and then leave the pieces scattered in rooms and memories

can you leave it?
leave it like a place you don't belong to any more?
leave it like an empty room with only memories of the way the walls used to look, now bare and unfamiliar?
can you pack it all away, leave it all behind?

i said i love you, but that won't make either of us stay.

is that really it?
i gave my heart away
and now i'm tripping on it out the door

i don't even know what love means any more. what does love expect from me?

i don't even mean in the traditional, "o we're in love, so let's get married and have lots of kids and a dog and a house in the suburbs" kind of way, but what do you do about love?

when you're this young and wanting to be free and committed, in love but without giving into traditional social ideals, all at once?

what do you do
what do you feel
what do you say
how do you explain
how you feel

about love?

Friday, February 24, 2006

sweet ass van


so who wants to help me raise the $3,601 it will take to obtain this van (+ the $ needed to ship it here all the way from the faraway land of utah)?

i'm in need of it for a concert this next weekend.

chasing pipe dreams, i know...
-o.stephi

Saturday, February 18, 2006

100th post!

i never thought i'd make it here.

i'd like to thank the academy
and my parents

for if i had not been born to the fortunes of a middle/upper-class suburban background
with the accessibility of internet and technology such as i have been enabled and allowed

i would certainly not exist in this form as i do today.

now imagine all the other kids
still remaining invisible and voiceless
as a result of this great disparity in distribution of information resources


to them this post is dedicated.

Monday, February 13, 2006

what is love?

a quavering beatIng of heart
the eArthbound flight of a feather
a Muddiness of mind
an unstable footIng during
a nebulous oil and vinegar sNorkel
a Lingering between life and dreaming
a drizzling acrOss the window's glass
the body's jolts to skewing Voltage
an unguidEd scribbling on immaculation

12.25.05
originally written with the capitalized letters in each line forming a trunk or spine down the center of the page, so that the lines undulate in the manner of a quavering or floating or muddiness or etc.