On Mondays and Migranes:

Why Getting Drunk on Sunday Night is a Bad Idea.

Every Monday he comes,
seven am like some tyrannical alarm clock,
the garbage man clamors down my alley

He toils away, an over-zealous drummer
smashing at his metallic tympani
with desperate determination. I can just see him—
his eyebrows damp with sweat, cocked at a disturbing angle
his tongue pinched dogmatically between his lips
never looking up at the conductor to see if
They’re on the same page

Every Monday he comes,
as democratic as a jack-hammer
pounding mercilessly against my ear drums
he probably enjoys it sometimes,
doesn’t care what you did the night before
he’s got a job to do and no cries of mercy
from a sleepless poet will stop him.

Grip it by the husk.

I am at peace the most when I am working with my hands. It really doesn't matter what I'm doing so long as I get to holding something between my fingers, able to manipulate it--there's something about the idea having control over what I'm working with. Carpentry, playing piano, painting, drawing, cooking. I think this is what's fueled my desire to be in the kitchen so much this semester, it's my only outlet for this need I have to dig my fingers into something, feel out a problem and solve from the inside.

It's so simple to take something for granted; to rely on the idea that once you have it, you've got it for good. If my experience has taught me anything it is that happiness can be a fickle and fleeting thing and when one has it, one has to hold on with every ounce of energy to keep it. Mainting happiness is a daily endevour and takes devotion to a cause. I hve been to passive, thinking that the happiness I've found will simply be there and that I dont have to work to keep it. I want to do what it takes to keep that happiness.


I miss Amy.

The Brink

I hate it when so much starts going on that it hinders your ability to write about it. My program is teetering on the edge, my classes are a mess, and my computer is--for all intents and purposes--broke. I want peace again.