Night Car

Backseat pretty sleepy
camping out on those nights, in a car carpeted in silk
in sweat
in Clapton
and there is a hush hush
whisper whisper
shift
with a pretty in the backseat
pretty sleepy
In a morning summer, dark with fogged dew
clinging to the outside of the Night Car
driving us up and down through the outer reaches of
my fingertips
of the galaxy
through your eyes


The feeling going down
is like twangs
and bass
on my insides
butterflies rushing my windshields
and climbing down my throat
down to my toes
every breath I bring out
flutters and lifts to the top of the ceiling
ripping the upholstery
breaking glass
shattering every thought
for the first time
never a last time

The backseat
pretty sweet
may carry us down hallways lined in, gold
takes me to places I've been,
but swore I wouldn't return to
not for a long while
gilted in fresh promises
and new problems
but it's all whispers, sticks and stones
shaking hands
rattling bones
in the Night Car
we'll travel pretty far
with a beaut in the backseat

What Heart? My Heart.

Me Gustas Tu- Manu Chao
Laid- James
Help Me Rhonda- Beach Boys
Giant of Illinios- Andrew Bird
Crystallize- The xx
I'm Not The Girl- LMNTL by Angela McCluskey
Sweet baby James- James Taylor
Indian Summer- Jonsi and Alex
Saw- Tanlines
Goth Girls- Wavves
Girl I Love You- Massive Attack
Lemonworld- The National
Hellhole Ratrace- Girls
Skulltaste- Mux Mool
Helicopter- Steve Aoki
Make It Take It- Amanda Blank

Me gustas tu

Work was, amazing tonight. It was the first time that it had been chill, not awkward, just silent and whispering and laughing, and there was this jazz husband and wife duo that came in and knocked our socks off, her on the piano and him on the trumpet. This weather is sombre...sombre enough for sweet, loud jazz hitting the ceilings.

Foggy weather is a good time for jazz, when the streetlights and houselights get fuzzed over like they are covered in muslin. When that mood strikes me and it makes me want to dance slow or curl up and read Sylvia Plath...ok, maybe not Sylvia Plath, but to read and to stare at the ceiling with my favorite person and talk about future plans. And then, sleeping long, long hours and walking around in socks and making french toast and huddling on the couch together with said person and watching The Office, or Scrubs, or Life of Brian. For the world, and school, and everyone else to just glance off into that other direction, of empty space, like some challenged spiraling satellite. The slightly chilly pea soup afternoons, like today, when the cold fronts push in and and the outside of my car windows get all foggy, rather than fogging up on the inside and the fields down the road are long and tall with hay that bends and turns silver with the condensation beading along the stems, which makes me want to run through and create tiny rain showers with my own chaotic motion.

The same condensation stuck to my bare feet as I walked, out around my house, cutting flowers and playing with the dog and by the time I got back inside the flesh of my feet had turned to green grass. So I tiptoed upstairs and ran my feet under the tap in the bathroom and the shivers got all tangled up in my spine, the well water is always chilly and prickly on my toes. With the radio sitting in the bathroom pumping out piano concertos and talk radio, playing jazz part of the day. When I finally decided to take a shower tonight and wash out my fuzzy braided hair, my shower singing was pushed around and diluted in the water streaming down on me, the tune unclear if someone was to be positioned outside the bathroom. The sleepiness hit soon after that and the warm soup smelled delectable wafting from downstairs as the evening news bleeped in and out. Then that dark blue haze of sleep sort of caught me hanging, floating out in bed ,and pulled me gently down.


Find a job you love. Find a swinging place.

sweet, silly things. leaking out of my ears.

I want to know what my interests are!
Of course, I already have a job.
But.... how will I want to know...what I want to do...later?

Interests/Preoccupations (of everyday life)

school? as in viable school, not this Online AP garbage, I actually like school, I'm just burnt out. 5:30 wake up calls for 8 months? Finally...it's getting better. You know it's bad when waking uo for AP tests late feels like a vacation.
rantrantrant

soccer -which employs my time from 5:30 to 7:30 and sometimes 3:30 to 10:30, but more than that, I've discovered a little of a talent of it, and even though sometimes I don't do as well as I should I still have so much to learn. It's just so, uh, challenging and skilled and when done right it looks flawless and beautiful (for the winning team).

music- FAVORITE BANDS or ones that I listen to right now (not in any particulr order)

Amanda Blank
Steve Aoki
Mux Mool
Kid Cudi
The Flaming Lips
The Chemical Brothers
The Beach Boys
Big Star
She & Him
Peaches
Kimya Dawson
Allison Krauss
Iron & Wine
Broken Bells
The xx
Feed Me mixes
Deer Tick
James Taylor
The Doors
The Velvet Underground
Girls
Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings
Charlotte Gainsbourg
Beck
Matt & Kim
Justice
The White Stripes
the Beatles
Pink Floyd
Billy Idol
Billy Holiday
Apollo Sunshine
Arcade Fire
Beach House
Blitzen Trapper
Yeah yeah yeahs
Mumford and Sons
Conor Oberst
Cold Play
Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
Feist
Fleet Foxes
Grizzly Bear
The Hives
Iggy pop
Jimmy Buffet
Rafi
The Killers
The Kinks
The Kooks
Major Lazer
Of Montreal
Ok Go
Passion pit
Pearl Jam
Phoenix
Radiohead
Rokyskopp
ratatat
the ramones
Santogold
surfer blood
vampire weekend
the who
Muse

The end is only the beginning of the end.

Prom. Prom was good. Prom was great.
It had its ups and downs.
Ups: being, finally, in harrisonburg again, on my own, with a car.
Downs: the police
Writing this is like flicking through a mental slide show of what happened. It was great in some ways. Really really great, sort of like...generic high school prom great? And I guess way more. I finally got to meet those people that I wanted to meet, and that have apparently, without my knowledge, have wanted to meet me too, and always greet me with "I've heard so much about you." This greeting is hard to respond to. You can't lie and say, "I've heard so much about you too" if you haven't, you have to say "I love being here" or, "It's great to finally meet you." The road trip was really great and that evening, with all those people and Iron Man and my dog cake and everything was really really nice. And there was staying up late into the night and as Larry likes to put it "The bumpin and grindin and sex and butt doing on the dance floor". Thanks Larry for eating my cake, it was really nice seeing you. One more prom to go, which is mine and will be incredibly more chill I believe. Just going to play some wii and dress up and watch some stars and dance to some really bad music. I think that that is my only huge beef with prom. The music. I would really appreciate some decent techno, even though the DJ played Sandstorm, which I believe is about as good as its going to get. Oh well, maybe one day they'll have actual DJs- that means you Jerm. Sorry to all those people I never texted back and thank you to Nevin, who so willingly let us into his home and let us pet his cat. Yeah...try not to take that in the wrong way.

Downs: Chinckening out
Ups: My first ever I-hop

Hush

So Please
please
please, let me
let me, let me, let me
get what I want
this time









The Lancers are coming.

My Favorite Game

- The Cardigans

Those favorite people of mine. The games they play. The secretive suprises. The great vibrations. The wonderful excitations.

Those favorite people of mine.

Larry R. and Anthony T.
The ones that jump in a car together and come visit me on a whim. They lie and they show up at my house on a Sunday aftrnoon and there is hugging and sweaty reunions and them hanging out of my car. Not only do I love them both, but I will be friends with them forever. We're Harry, Ron, and Hermoine. I love Larry like Mary loves Jesus. We'll even let Larry's girlfriend into the group. 'Cause they are my handsome, loveable, completely senseless, heartwarming, suprising favorites.


Did I take you shopping? ...Even if you're my sister? Did we buy scandalous things together?

You're my favorite, Hannah T.


Do I know what your favorite music is, and talk to you almost everyday, for hours? Even if we don't talk in person that much? And we can always, always talk music.

You're my favorite, Jeremy B.

Are you always the first friend I go to, cause we both know you're one of my bestfriends here and I know you can always give me the right (morally right) answer to my problems?

You're my favorite, Rebekah S.

I know my favorites by what I say to them.
Did I send you a text a midnight? Was it your birthday?

You're my favorite, Andy G.


Have you gone through that high school hell for me? Are you there waiting for me to show up so that me can read The Onion and Drudge Report and have become my number one friend this year, all just because we bondedover politics thatone day and we hang out all the time? I make you CDs and you stand up for me and you're going to take that Korean girl to prom if I have to beg her?

You're my favorite, Palmer G.

Will we always be friends and live parallel lives and fight for the highest chem grade? Will we always have deep conversations about family? Soon? Will you teach me to climb trees and play guitar? Will your brother date my sister again? Will I always be mocked for "not washing these knives"?

You're my favorite, Jude S.

Do we have those great, slighlty awkward little siter/big sister friend conversations on the bus twice a week and have become pretty good friends over the past months? Do we have the same tastes in schools, music, men, clothes? Do people mistake us constantly for one another? Do you walk like a dinosaur?

You're my favorite, Zaina N.

Do I always love seeing you? Do I think you're a brilliant, incredibly gorgeous musician/icon/friend? Do I think we Should hang out more? More and more. Yes. Is there so much more to say about you that I can't put into words?

You're my favorite, Nora K.

Let's sound circle.

http://soundingcircle.com/newslog2.php/__show_article/_a000195-000336.htm

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

Groupie

so let's go

In explosions of rainbow glow
April came with seeds to sew
In murmuring whispers of lo-fi reverb
trees rustling was all that we heard
After three days of setting suns-
we landlocked lovers were looking for sun
Found it hiding under the docks at about mid-June
freedom, was whispered, it's coming soon
But the rain falls heavy with a ozone smell
and the life of it all is a scribbling hell
Pummeling madly at my window screen
in a million broken drops of cycling sheens
Heaved from heavy laden clouds in my April sky
the air is permeated with its dripping highs
The lows of the cattle and the bird call sings
in the mornings that now April brings
And the fervor, the unwavering, the steady pound
of millions in spring fever, screaming loud
Yelling, jumping, telling Now!
Now is the time to move about!
There are bruises on their knees and thighs
they run and push and kick all night
They win their wars, they lose them too
they sink down into the wallowing blues-
And reds and purples and violets of spring
the pungent yellows, the green sprigs
Laid out in wet grass with soft yellow dogs
watching clouds overhead and the lingering fog
The fever catches and bites in hard
its hard not to gallop and trot and charge
Up and Down! and Up! and Down again!
the bruises will heal, the bones will mend
Theres no fever like tomorrow, the promise of today
so let's go kill April til the 1st of May