slightly_rehearsed raze i had it all mapped out. i would say, "can i ask you something?" you would say, "sure". & then i would get into it: "maybe this is kind of a silly thing to ask...but let me preface this by saying that i don't know you very well, obviously, but i know that i like you. i know that i think you're interesting, & talented & attractive. so my question is, are you interested in me as just a friend, or as something potentially more than that?" & you would answer. i wasn't sure what your answer would be, but i hoped it would be something along the lines of "i want to pursue some kind of vaguely serious relationship with you". it turned out i didn't even have to work up the nerve to say any of it. i ordered a drink. the girl behind the bar asked who the lucky recipient of the white rose was. "someone who isn't here yet," i said. i went on to say something about how i thought red roses were overused, & i thought it was more interesting to get someone a single white rose as opposed to a cluster of a dozen reds. simplicity. austerity. "you don't see enough of that," she said. "more people should think like that." i found a seat close to the door & waited for you. i wasn't waiting long; maybe five or ten minutes at the most. you seemed happy to see me. you didn't see the rose at first. you went to get a coffee, came back & i said, "that's for you," motioning to the flower with my eyes. you smiled at me in a way that was a little strange & told me i must have got the wrong idea. the explanation certainly wasn't anything i would have expected. i know it's true...it's just that there weren't any indications of it. i had no reason not to think that you were interested in me. how can i be your friend when i want more than that? it's like being hit in the face with a baseball bat everytime i look at you. i don't know what the fuck to do. 040303 ... raze that's a lie. i know exactly what to do. & i'm finished with flowers. 040304 ... raze i wish i could fucking cry, but i can't. so i hit myself & say, "you should have seen this coming". i smell like bar. 040307 ... raze i've decided i can be your friend. i'm pretty adept at making feelings disappear. besides, if i never let myself know you just because i can't have things exactly as i'd like them, that would be a stupid joke. i know how to sell it, but it's still pointless. so i called you on tuesday, got your machine & left a message. it wasn't some of my better work, but i've done worse. i hope you call me back at some point. 040311 ... raze or, to paraphrase: ooh-oo-oo-ooh la, la, la, la, la ooh-ooh la-da, la-da-da-da 040311 ... raze one night i tried to will myself to have this dream where we were out somewhere & you asked me what i was afraid of. "i'm afraid of the thought of never having someone to hold & be held by," i would tell you. "someone who will say 'i love you'—not because they're obligated to, but because it's what they feel. someone i can tell my secrets to, knowing that they won't take off once they learn i'm not some kind of rock." & then you would tell me you'd like to be that person for me. it was futile, because i know by now that i have no say in the subject matter of my dreams. but taking everything into consideration, i'm probably better off giving up on this whole thing. not the being friends with you thing [though i have no idea where that's going right now], but the whole connecting with someone & not misinterpreting that connection thing. if i take your words & mannerisms at face value, i end up where i was before you stuck a thumbtack in my shrivelled birthday balloon. if i try to filter & analyze you, i end up confusing myself with no end of possible standing-places, none of which are accurate. for example, i can take your failure to call me back as a statement of disinterest, when it could be that you're just one of those very many people who aren't always adept at returning phone calls. it isn't even entirely about you, but more about interacting with people in general & trying to ascertain what, if any, possibilities there are, & whether they're platonic or romantic. i seem to encounter a lot of the former, disguised as the latter. maybe if i drink enough i can achieve a kind of clarity that alludes me in sobriety, enabling me to bypass all of the bullshit & properly translate all sensory stimuli with drunken grace. yeah. wishful thinking. in any case, i should be able to make myself run into you on wednesday. from there i figure we'll either ingest copious amounts of alcohol & tell one another our respective life stories, or you'll blow me off when i suggest that we ingest copious amounts of alcohol & tell one another our respective life stories. i will think about this no more. i'm going to sleep. my neck is sore. 040315 ... raze "alludes" should be "eludes", obviously. i have no idea how i fucked that up. 040315 ... raze you said yes, kind of. i guess you're a bit of a free spirit, & i'm supposed to be in charge of getting in touch with you. that's kind of the idea i got when i asked you a few times when i should call you & you said "all the time". i wasn't sure whether to be flattered or flustered. i wish for once i didn't have to take the initiative. i mean, it's nice to get this affection from you, but it's...i don't even know what it is. fuck it. i'll call you, & if you don't pick up i'll leave a message, & then it'll be up to you. which is probably just setting myself up for more disappointment, but what the hell. the way i see it, if you want to see me, you will. thus far, this is one of the more difficult friendships i've attempted to cultivate. i hope it gets a bit smoother from here, but i probably shouldn't expect anything. if i could have drank more tonight, i'd probably be quite a bit happier about this whole thing. all hail the potential alcoholic. the undecided depressive. on the bright side, i met a nice guy & got to be his temporary makeshift support system. but i'll probably never see him again. 040317 ... raze it's kind of funny how a song can change everything. i'll take what i can get. just don't say you love me. i don't want to be one of those pathetic firecrackers. fweeeerm...pop. 040318 ... raze i can't really complain. things are good. i'm seeing you tomorrow. you tell me you love me & it makes my insides hurt. "you don't know me well enough to love me," i tell you. "i don't have to," you tell me. your head on my shoulder because you want it there is a nice feeling. 040320 ... raze i don't want you to be a fleeting thing in my life. i want you to stay, as long as you want to stay. i think i'm going to tell you that, just because i can. sitting on feelings until they fall asleep doesn't really help anything. & there's always that uncomfortable "i'm waking up again, fucker!" tingly feeling to deal with. balls to the walls, as you would say. 040322 ... raze i told you. it felt good to tell you. i realize now it's not a matter of taking what i can get; it's about knowing what i've got. & whatever happens, at least i can know that i didn't bite my tongue when i should have just spit out whatever i was feeling. i need to buy some cigarettes. 040324 ... raze you're moving away in two months, & you want me to go with you. but, as tempting as it is, that isn't something i think i can do at this point in my life. if i did go with you, it would only be because i don't want to lose you. i think if you're going to relocate & start a new life in a new place, it should be something you want to do for yourself. it's not that i don't appreciate the appeal of watching my past life turn into vapour in a city where no one knows me...it just isn't what i want right now. it's funny, because you're just about the only person in my life right now that i actually want in my life, long-term. & in two months that basically becomes an impossibility. from my experience, when someone moves away & you stay where you are, the relationship kind of dies. maybe you send a few emails or talk on the phone occasionally, but one of you has a new life somewhere else. i think it's pretty likely i won't really factor into yours. it's just the way these things tend to work. the strange thing about all of this is the fact that i'm not really depressed, or angry, or anything. i don't even know what to feel anymore. shit like this makes it seem pointless for me to feel anything. i fucking love you & it doesn't mean a thing. stuff it in a hole & make it scream. 040404 ... silentbob wow i see myself in you 040405 ... raze i am an onion, but i don't make you cry because you need to feel something irrevocable to cry when i'm involved my lips are chapped you wouldn't kiss them anyway just ask me something say something stupid 040407 ... silentbob will you email me? 040407 ... raze i'd say, "i will", but i should say, "i did". because i did. 040408 ... peyton it makes me so sad to say that I read this entire story.. and from the beginning I knew what the ending was going to be.. if only from my personal experience forgive me if I am intruding here, but I feel and have felt what you experienced, and I can only softly say that I understand and I can relate 040408 ... raze thanks. i appreciate that. 040408 ... raze i had a dream a little while back that i was in some strange cafe. i ordered a coffee & bailey's, & it was served to me in a strange polygonal mug. i saw you sitting at a table with two or three other people, & you looked miserable. which is kind of funny in itself, because i've never seen you look even remotely miserable. but anyway, i walked over to you & said, "can i tell you something?" you said sure. i leaned in as if i were about to whisper something in your ear, but instead i kissed you on the side of the face. then i grabbed my enhanced coffee & walked into the street with it. any other dreams i've had about you always involve me trying to find you. i never really do. once or twice i thought i did, but then i woke up immediately. in those dreams, you're the fleeting thing i didn't want you to be. i'd like to take that first dream & apply it to reality, though. it doesn't strike me as an inappropriate thing to do, & it's not like i have anything to lose. time may not be pulling for me, but i've got abandon on my side. it's probably the best thing i've got going at the moment. 040408 ... megan i will not make you happy. that being said, i will not live to your expectations, i will not force you to stay, and i will not seem to care when you do leave. (but i will) i will be hard-nosed and independent. (and broken but no one has to know that) i will be strong and stand up for myself. (although i will fail and i will fall for someone again) i will be me. i will change my mind so many times it'll leave your head spinning, and in the end, i will force you to make the decision because i'm too indecisive. you will not be happy with me at all times, life will not be perfect, nothing is going to seem right and everything will seem right all at the same time. but don't send me into the storm. please don't jump ship when things get hard, and please don't give up when you feel like it. stick it out. see what the future brings. see how strong we could be. you didn't. i tried to understand, but it's no use. you were always bull-headed, and you're going to be ok on your own simply because you have to now that you started. i know you so completely, and yet i don't. you know me so thoroughly, and yet you still leave. is that supposed to say something to me? maybe someday you'll wake up one morning and think about me and wonder what i'm doing. wonder where i am, how i am, and how it would be if we were still together. maybe one day you'll regret your decision (and being selfish, i sincerely hope so). maybe you'll call me someday and just want to talk or reminisce or finally cry. but i don't know. i honestly don't know. i want not to care. i want to be strong and independent and hard-nosed and all those "good" things, but you know me so well... you know i have never been like that and most likely never will be. you let me pretend for a good while... thanks for that... i wish i could be completely happy again. 040409 ... raze i found out you had called me, so i went outside, away from the noise, & called you. i told you i missed you & your response was "cool". nice. you said you were coming out later. so i spent the night at that bar, waiting for you. you never came. but a friend of yours told me that you were moving this coming monday instead of in june. it's nice to know you didn't even have enough respect for me to tell me that. you have no idea how much this hurts me. i give up. 040409 ... raze this is a fucking joke. i got in my parting shot on easter, via email [since it was the only way to get in touch with you at that point]. i was kinder than i should have been, but at least i was able to communicate what i felt. no response from you, until yesterday, when you called me. you hadn't checked your email, so i summed up most of what i said. you were kind of apologetic, but apparently the whole thing was a misunderstanding on my part. you know what? you're full of shit. i saw you tonight, mostly just to see what you would be like around me. & it was like nothing had ever happened. i asked what you wanted to do with the email, & you said you'd probably just delete it. you didn't intentionally set out to hurt me. "i don't see what you had to be upset about," you said. so, if i want to be your friend, your long-distance, occasional nothing, we can talk on the phone, email & see one another maybe a few times a year. at one point, i wanted to get up & leave without saying anything, on the off chance that it might hurt you. but i doubt it would. it's not even worth it. i'm too tired. the best part is that, if i had done to you what you did to me, you would have fucking cried. you never would have talked to me again. but you're not like me. maybe you mean what you say in the moment it's said, but you don't do anything to back it up. you're just empty promises that can't be broken, because they're never genuine. i'm sure it's very convenient for you. well, you know how to get in touch with me. i guess that's it. i'm kind of curious if you'll ever contact me, but i'm pretty sure you won't. besides, i'm the one who's supposed to get in touch with you, right? at least i'll always have a place to visit when i feel like reliving whatever you can call the brief nothing that we had. you kill my words, & you kill my insides, but there's nothing left to kill. a bunch of wasted feelings. 040429 ... peyton I wish I could say something profound here but I can only say I'm still reading. 040531 ... raze what a funny little role-reversal we've pulled here. my hair grows from houses that rise from the ground when your toes sing. 041017 ... raze there is nothing now. only silence. it's been more than a year and a half since we communicated in any way. i let it die, basically. you sent me another one of your strange free-association rants, i didn't respond, and i never heard back from you. i spent nine months filling a book with my thoughts, words, dreams, ideas, fears, and other pieces of me, and it was for nothing. you never even gave me your new address. now that book sits in one of my dresser drawers, where it's been soaking up wood-enhanced oxygen since last may. and here you were the one that suggested the whole book exchange idea...i'm sure you never even started writing mine. you always had a talent for making people feel like you loved them and were excited by everything about them, only to negate it all when your actions spoke the truth your lips were too stupid or coy to admit. and yet, if i were to call you tomorrow, you would probably act as if we had just spoken yesterday, or you had been meaning to call me, and everything would be wonderful. people like you are the reason i spent the end of my teenage years actively trying to destroy myself. or at least one of the reasons. i hope montreal treats you well. i can't say i wish good things for you, or bad things, or anything...any feelings i once had for you died a long time ago. you're just a beautiful fragment of something that could have been. we danced for a while, though most of the time there wasn't any music to call upon. all that remains of you now is a vague shape i can't quite make out. i think it's called an ending. 071216 ... unhinged only because i've said it so many times in my head and if i said 'you make me forget to be sad' would you hear how long i've been dying to tell you? you know so many times i rehearsed these things never to say them. so many times i was disappointed at all the friendships around me that never materialized into what i wanted. people don't know unless you tell them. you don't know unless i tell you. but could i handle you forcibly pushing me back into the friend box that i want to bust out of? in all the dinners i've made you, in all the drinks and smokes we've had together, in all the songs you've heard me sing (i'm afraid to sing in front of people) there was always the need and want of your arms around me. holding all the good stuff in and chasing all the bad stuff away. what can i say? you don't know unless i tell you. (all of blather the small rehearsals that never make it on stage.) 071216 ... raze it's a little strange to revisit this. fragments of a rainy season. songs of love and bitterness. i'm wiser now. i can't blame you for being who you are. the book i wrote for you is still sitting at the bottom of a dresser drawer, never to be read. you added me as a friend on facebook a while back, but never actually put any effort into communicating with me. i had to laugh at that...it seemed absurdly appropriate. eventually i removed you. i doubt you noticed. we're not friends, and we haven't been for a long time. i guess you were never really a friend to me...just a dream i conjured and then couldn't quite wrap my head around. at least i got some music out of it, and we shared a few moments that seemed pregnant with meaning at the time. at least i was always honest about my feelings, even if the honesty was lost on you. at least i tried to give you something. whether or not you took anything at all away from the time we spent together, i'll never really know. and maybe that's as it should be. goodbye, dangershark. take care. 100912 ... unhinged i still think about finishing it and giving it to you, the book of words i was making for you when you were gone this summer. but now, i wouldn't hold back the sad and angry words. now, you would get all of it, exactly how you made me feel. 100913 ... lostgirl feels like the plot of my upside down and sideways story right now.... (like i'm someone standing in, an understudy perhaps, attempting to portray me.) 100913 ... peyton i hope raze is still around i was always a big fan 101208 ... unhinged (haven't heard from him in months) 101208 ... jane i'm sure he is. 101210 ... j actually, i tried to call him a few weeks ago, and nobody answered. 101210 ... raze as long as this place exists, i'll always be around...i just haven't had much to say in quite a while. but i have to laugh at the irony of the way it all worked out; i ran away from blue and came here in an effort to contribute something of worth, instead of just silliness and tail-chasing angst. i intentionally changed the way i wrote, tried to keep personal details to a minimum, and attempted to earn back the anonymity i had lost. i assumed i would leave some words, no one would pay much attention, and then i would vanish and my words would collect dust in a corner somewhere. but it didn't work out that way at all. everyone knows who i am now, and i'm not even sure why i still use this name, because it doesn't entirely reflect who i am anymore, even though it's the name i chose. while i rarely say anything of substance here anymore, i get to share music and letters and ideas with fellow 'skites, and some of you i consider to be very special friends. it's the last thing i ever expected to happen. how does the saying go? "announcing your plans is a good way to hear god laugh." thank you for letting me share a little bit of myself with you. it means more than you know. 110417 ... raze i don't even dream about you anymore. it's as if you never were at all. ooh wee maybe that's the way it ought-ta be ooh wee won'tcha sing along with me? 121117 ... raze i just had the most unexpected random thought fall out of my head. you would have loved it here. and you would have written some beautiful things. maybe i would have been better off telling you about blather and then not having much to do with you outside of these red pages, instead of keeping it a secret and trying to navigate our strange dance. we probably would have learned more about one another that way. life is strange. people are strange. thoughts are strange. and the word "strange" is partially derived from the latin "extraneous", meaning "that which is on the the outside". it don't get more appropriate than that. it never do. 130125 ... raze ("extraneus", even) 130125 ... raze after all the times you railed against religion back when we knew one another, i come to find out you're now an anglican deacon. i don't even have words for how perfect that is. i guess sometimes you return to the place you hate the most, to try and remake it from the inside_out. s'pose i'll wish you luck. what else is there? 130618 ... raze i've never been any good at discarding things. always was something of an emotional_packrat. but it's time to throw away that hardback book i filled with words for you. there's no reason to hold onto it anymore. besides, my sock drawer could use the extra space. 140314 ... past I always write out my formal presentations. I always wing my teaching. Lectures are hard because they're a bit of one and a bit of the other. Nonetheless, whether I write out the presentations or wing them, I never do what I expect myself to. 140314 ... raze i saw you in a dream, for the first time in a long time. i saw you outside of my tent, ignored you, walked past you, and some sort of psychic narration told me i'd done this before. your eyes told me something else. they told me the cumulative effect of all the times i looked past you was pain. and i thought, good. now you know how it feels. then the campground was a bar. i walked over to your table against my wiser instincts, raised my eyebrows, and asked if i could buy you a drink. felt like the right gesture to make, meaningless without being unkind. you said sure. vodka water. and i was shoved back in time eleven years. the bar was the steepest one i've ever stood at. a middle-aged man i swear was a secret jazz musician poured the drink, standing so high above me the visual trick made him look twice my height. i handed him five and he joked that he'd treat it well but five might not be enough, so i gave him ten instead, and he checked the microfilm for telltale counterfeit signs, and he dropped my change in an ashtray, and i couldn't reach up to get it. i told him to keep it. he was planning on keeping it anyway. the handoff was awkward, and there was a phantom step i forgot about, a step i had to take to get back down to everyone else's level, but i managed not to spill any. i brought the drink to you. and then, as i told a friend later, angry words were exchanged, and "all the dumb was dumb-dee-dumb-dee-dumb. it was dumb." from indifference to anger to regret, in three fluid steps. it's an odd little thing when you dream about someone you don't feel anything for anymore, good of bad, and in the dream you forget about the absence of feeling for a while, until you wake up and it slides its hand back over your face, a little numb from being slept on but otherwise none the worse for wear. 150320 ... raze good OR bad. not good of bad. but what the hell is the good of bad? that's the question. 150320 ... leif The love that grows out of secrets... 150320 ... raze there was this song you wrote. you never recorded it. i never even knew what it was called. i only heard you sing it live a few times. the first time i heard it was the moment i let myself fall, even though i knew no one was going to be there to catch me. it was the chorus. it was the way you sang, "if you want to, you can lay your bones on me," dancing down an octave in eleven words. it wasn't about sex. it was about weariness, about wanting to feel someone's heart beat against your chest through the stable shell that held it in place, about wanting to hold them against you hard enough to feel the bones in their back. it's haunted the back of my brain for the last seventeen years. so i took the little scrap of musical memory and stitched it into something that was my own. something very far removed from the spirit of your song. but in a strange way it felt right. it felt like an accidental collaboration that pulled itself lose from the maw of time. it felt like unfinished emotional business. i sent it to you. i wasn't trying to get anything back. it just felt like the only thing to do that made any sense. maybe the only way to break a fifteen-year silence is with a pointless gesture. you wrote back and said it was beautiful. and i think that's enough. i think that's something like closure. so yeah. 210129 what's it to you? who go blather from