UPDATE/this isn't actually important

I was supposed to write a 'zero draft' for English about Deaf education but 90% of it is about the importance of finding the right foundation for your skin color and there is no punch line.
Also I wrote this super bangin' post/poem about a boy and I can't post it because said boy knows my blog and I don't want him to read it. It is currently labeled "This is for you; but don't read it" (But I want all of you to read it, so go figure.)
I do however have a pint of pistachio gelato in my freezer and happy about that.
Also I was logged into my personal blog account, and then I got distracted reading Sasha Fierce, and I commented under, like, my actual name, and I know it doesn't matter but I want to hide under a rock or a blanket because it felt wrong.
Also I've been keeping a note in my phone and everyday when I wake up I write a sentence about my dream and regardless of how sane I think I am they're always ridiculous and you should all try it and die laughing with me.

XXXXXXRRRR

Hi

**Friendly reminder that Taylor Lautner once played Sharkboy** 

I have a picture of my dad and I on my dresser and I am asleep on his shoulders and it's my all time favorite. I spent the last hour reading reviews in search of the perfect eyeliner. (right now I'm going with MAC Pro-Longwear) I saw Divergent again last night and that movie will always get me, I think. Speaking of last night: There is literally no traffic at 3:15 am and I can't stop thinking about it/you. Also I want to try sushi and I want to see Spectacular Now and I don't know what I want all at the same time and I forget how old my parents are. Also there is only one pair of socks I can sleep in, and I desperately need a second pair. 

XX

R/M

Letter to A: (part one-thousand)

Its 11:30 at night and we are on the phone and it is last conversation before the Last Conversation. You're talking about your crawfish and it doesn't even matter that you named it Tucker or that your sister is taking care of it and your speech and my focus start to slow until there is just breathing coming from both ends of the phone and we fall asleep. (Something I never told you: Your alarm woke me up that Wednesday.)

XX

Rothko

Prob I need to just calm down

I'm jealous that you talk everynight. 

That she knows you better and she doesn't even live in this state. Of the people who are in a ten block radius.  I've been trying to figure out why I feel so nervous around you but all I can think of is that I would go anywhere if I knew that someday it would lead me back to you. 

XXR

I'm thinking about you and us and how it used to be and

I'm still trying to decipher that text/you in general. And I guess this isn't a eulogy

It's more of a crappy constellation of thoughts because I haven't made up my mind. All I can think about is the Shirt that I hate and the Week before homecoming, Us hand in hand and Your arms around mine, grilled cheese, Downton Abby (I still haven't watched it) the Mumford concert and M83, and mostly how I wish we lived in the same city. 

XX 

R

Having a Coke with You

and I'm jealous of the cold glass bottle because it is holding your hand and touching your lips
and I'm jealous of the story you are telling about traveling to the Traversera de Garcia in Barcelona in the middle of August
partly because in your button up shirt you looked like a better version of the Boy I've always imagined 
partly because of my love for you, partly because the look of your red tousled hair hits me in the soft parts of my heart,
partly because of how you say first & last names, especially mine
and it is hard to believe that when I'm with you there can be anything as beautiful as the color that runs across your fingertips and down the page and into the river.
In the 9 o'clock shadow, I am sitting by the pond where we used to come and I am jealous of the 9 o'clock shadow you have in Nakatsu that makes the sun go down and the one that makes you no longer warm. But the shadow is with you.
and I am not.

I look
at the polaroid of you and I would rather look at that then the Rembrandt or Renoir that I love and except possibly I would look at Nighthawks occasionally and anyway it is in Chicago
which thankfully you haven't gone yet so we can go together the first 
time.

And I am jealous of the time you spend with the people there and how special you probably seem to them 
and I'm jealous
of the carefully selected words you choose to use with them 
and the tie you wear because it is around you neck and close to your warm skin 

and I'm angry at everyone who doesn't realize your value because
it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I'm telling you about it



XX
Rothko

(To watch Frank O'Hara read the original poem click here)

I don't know if this makes sense, but:

"..lacking are all the sounds, smells, and spatial complexity of the outdoors. A man-made habitat can never replace the real thing. Animals need a very high peel of psychological stimulation to survive and with inadequate habitats it can take a toll on their mental state."

I read a whole argumentative essay for an english class (that I hate) about how keeping animals in zoos decreases their life span by 90% and how they become so mentally distressed they form unnatural habits.

All I could think about was how their soul depends on being free.

Their soul depends on it.






XX
Rothko