"They're like my version of Haiku, these fuck-ups."

There's this too-distinct difference, I like to think, between knowing where you're going and how you're gonna get there. There are all these people that you can only translate as possible, so far. The problem?

Well imagine describing what it feels like to fall in love--to the person you're falling in love with. Imagine owning such a thing!, as if your version of love is neither effect nor consequence. If you think you can, maybe then there is no problem. So far, I can't describe it to myself. Failure in articulation, say you?, or else still failing to "fall in love"? I don't really mind, mind you.

Speaking of pretending. I would like to acknowledge RIGHT NOW doors with names that I've closed and windows with faces still tucked beneath. Translate: "doors" & "windows" into real live people! People with FULL-fucking-names; siblings and yards; smiles! "You were not a dot-dot-dot...waiting for me to complete you." (Ani D.)

[Don't forget--don't forget! Solipsism is narcissistic and psychotic! It's an absurdity that only people could have come up with...and then ran with at full speed! Maybe it took the industrial-strength insanity of philosphers, for to articulate most terrifyingly.]

Let us formulate them into a list of letters all jumbled up, as though they could have meant something to me. Let them carry meaning that doesn't imply me at all, not in the slightest.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (3/21/07)

Cycle Revolution - "Your dealer alternative." [You mean I get to be counted as an emergency!?]

Pumpkin muffins are ridiculously good. Cream cheese and all...

I think I'm watching a T.A. advise a student. Her inflected voice has been carrying her along for about seven minutes - is as colorful as her seventies-style striped, stretchy over-shirt with matching beads encircling her throat - and still I have no clue as to what subject she could possibly be talking about. Too many "it"s and "that"s and "well I would've"s, though I do gather that their teacher is a woman, and cultural forces seem to play a grand and mysterious role. Probably.

Whatever, the student just hopped up and out and now the T.A. is giving up her table to a middle-aged faculty-looking couple, which is nice of her. ("No problem! Now I get to go stretch out on the couch, finally!") I suppose I'll never know what she was talking about. [Cuz heaven forbid I ask...]

Down to the cream cheese! - its pure craziness. And Sublime's playing "Caress Me Down" spiritedly at Cowell Cafe.

It's one of those days outside that rains while smiling. The sun'll be out and making the cherry blossom trees shiver, but it'll be freezing as fuck and dropping raindrops like tears, "she says in a good way." My hands have just about thawed, only the fingertips to get warm now. In the mean time: homework! And sitting across from a sudden kid who's eating citrus & reading Wittgenstein. ("Thanks! It's just so crowded in here...")

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (3/8/07)

Reciprocity is not a clearly defined thing.

[At least you didn't fall on him--it was a possibility. It always is. This plethora of brilliance! and idiocy, so full and apparent on any bathroom wall.]

I want a decision being made each time. I have to try not to confuse myself here: I hardly know the definition of loneliness. My experience of it must be this different from yours. What I think it might mean doesn't live up to the hype once i've banished it. Most of the time, all i can feel while in a group of people is how much i'd rather be alone.

[I am good company to be sure, but am regrettably aware of its (un)lasting nature, i think.]

It's subject matter, you see, the only kind available in the drowning of too many minds within each other. As far as this goes, we can only do justice to one person at a time--such is the fullness of a personality waiting to be discovered. How is it not time mis-spent among people watching each other be watched, and nothing shared? Or at least, not nearly as much as i can't help but want.

It is for this that I deny the possibility of falling into each other. Or of having things happen to me, and finding myself among the people most readily available--that is, on the strength of their convenience. I want a decision being made each time! I want it based on intuition; on drive; on desire--not on accident. Nor mere circumstance. This is it, the way that it is, so i'm not allowed to be worried. This is what i want.

Introspection sucks. I want poetry in every look. There's got to be something here. Something necessary for me to see, or to know.

[So where's your decision, girlfriend? When are you going to put yourself in the paths of the people you're curious about?]

Geez louise.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (2/28/07)