ugh. these stupid food words are clouding up my writing. get off my page! i want to use this paper for good.

i dreamt about water again last night. it was this swimming pool that turned into the ocean. it was all hazy. the sky was hazy. erotic towards my sister again. swimming naked. yearning for her to pay attention to me. i just wanted so badly for her to look at me. i kept swimming around her like 'look at me! look at me! pay attention to me.' the pool turned into the ocean and the waves were big but they were calm. they were salty they were hazy. my vision was blurry but i knew it would be ok. we ran to the top of the sand and we took on the waves. they were easy coming in but they nearly dragged us back to the sea with them. my feet held steady in the sand. then its a pool again and we're collecting our things and im reminding my sister not to forget her towel.

'livin on love'. im livin on drive. and resentment. and cynicism. and so much obsession mixed in a bloody mess with all this displaced passion. its the same bullshit with me every day. day in and day out and all i wanted was a fucking laptop. so i can finish these sentences before they run out of my head. im just pouring myself all over this paper. if this was a griddle i would be a pancake. a griddle like the ones we saw when we were 'married'. you dont know anything about that. you dont know anything about sacrificing for someone youre not obligated to. watching her melt away in your hands knowing youre the only thing helping her eat. quitting everything to make sure she's ok. crying every day that youre away from her and not because youre sad. but because you can feel her heart break from two hours away. you can feel her when shes sad. making your life work in a pair now instead of alone. having twice as many cats and being the only one who cleans the litterbox because you know she hates doing it. but she takes out the trash for you so its pretty even. she cooks for you and she runs your bath for you and sometimes she gets in too. and every night is movie night except for those nights when youre both so tired. and youre so happy that theres no time to create. and thats when the pieces fall apart.

..shes the piece of me that fits.

and everything fell out through this pen. and all i have is this paper this basket to catch it in.

writing is cathartic. shouldnt everything be cathartic. this cleansing of the soul. everything i do should make me happy. and nothing im doing right now .. does. i am in control of my life so why isnt it better.

i will be eternally restless. fake plastic wedding bands. did we ever want more than that. when will i be over this. how long before this goddamn dust settles. settle fucker.

i hear footsteps above me and what are those people walking for? their next paycheck? how about a day off. thats what id walk for. why doesnt everyone live near the beach? they dream about it and they say its wonderful but they never do it. i dont do it. whats holding me back. this snow? my next paycheck? im going to spend the summer by water. get my laptop save the rest. live in this city. work in this city. hopefully not love in this city. i want to write by the water and that is all. my soul is calling me to the sand and my pen is doing the same. my heart will probably stay here but she tends to find her way eventually.

shes just a little stickier than the rest of us. its like she falls so fast and she gets stuck. she just opens everything right up. and it all gets stuck to the bottom where she revels in it. then when she gets bored she just packs up. unsticks herself and finds me wherever i am.

a tangent about my heart and im on it. a heart tangent.a heart target. your heart is a target for mine. a bullseye in the middle and shes a good shot.

it gets these different feels. writing on paper is more organic. branding these pieces of tree. its an explosion its like boom! and this comes. right out of my hand right onto you. fingerbang