tenino

so this is Tenino. i got bored while rehearsing my land navigation studies. i have learned much to do about 8 digit grid coordinates, modified resections, and like back azimuths or something while gazing upon this magical land. maybe someday i'll visit tenino, i would totally be able to find the water towers and unimproved roads.

things are just groovy dooby doo over here. oh i bought a car last sunday, that's new. have i posted about that yet? no probably not. i should put up sleek pictures of me squatting next to the rims, but no i think not. i have yet to do laundry at school, which shows how much i have had to drive home. and my room is still minus a beautiful plant.

lately in class shakespeare hamlet jeez, montaigne apology for raymond sabond just finished, descartes' geometry ahh, and galileo dialogues concerning two new sciences.

this should be longer, but i want to brush my teeth and take a shower. i'm going to wear my retainer tonight, guys!

after a post like that, it's good to play poker with your friends. and lose.

for solitude

you're alone, because you're alone
it's your humor, it's your weight, it's your appointment in 7 minutes.
but you're alone, sitting near the wall.
not in the corner, that's where people hide.

and there's obviously something wrong with you.
antisocial, illfitting, blind and deaf
otherwise you couldn't bear it.
being alone

talking to yourself outloud is crazy,
but only so much more than listening to yourself quitely.



sometimes you can't stand them.
it's like they're talking about you, or even worse, to you.

quick, your response. liken it to theirs
before they could think you're different,
make them think you would be just as comfortable sitting at their table.
but wait, what's so wrong with differ...
and it's too late, because you're polite
and now, just like them.
no, i'm not using that chair. go ahead.


after all if you're smiling,
how could anything be hurting you.

and they'll be with you for the rest of the day
in your head, they'll follow you
to your desk, and underneath your sink.
their basketball shorts, their pleated skirts, their keyed lanyards.

if only they could realize, they're just as alone as you are.
in between their giggles and curses, and whines.
they have to listen to their own voice.
or maybe they just can't hear it anymore.

they will have to someday,
when it's no longer them, but he or she.
sighing from the yellow sheets of his last bed.
at some point, that voice is all we have left.

sometimes, scrubbiness is near to godliness?

tribute

is an interesting, official sounding word.

here's to friends.



oh and jessica, back from LAUP. we're proud of you?