aimless, afternoon vignettes

hum.
and how defeated i return.
skip skip skip sliding.

flirting with disaster, and loving it.
still wishing i could capture chords in words.
oh, my little girl.

this is an exquisite, unrivaled, dark beauty.
everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt, and the dance of strengthening light and its interplay on late afternoon dust.
pipers yellow silhouette against impeccable blue dusk, and huddled within the confines of yasi's shirt.
wait
wait
wait
descend now, but slowly, guided by each step. each... slip.
"its so raw. so real. SO honest. that album.. oh man"
"you absolutely put your finger on it.. it so fully and accurately captures so much.."

i have fallen into a beautiful melee from which i hope never to return.
of all the parts of myself i denied, the loss of this....
when was the last time music affected me so deeply?

"haha, 'and i'll live without your love but, what good is one glove... without the other.' i'm so glad you actually listened to it. when i say that album has saved my life, i mean it more than i've ever meant anything. and ps.. i knew you'd love it. some things you just know."

and you'd better be alone.

come and whisper in my ear,
you're very pretty dear
and,
it'll be alright.

you're lying, but i don't mind tonight.

(The bluest iris that I'd ever seen
SHe vanished like a dream, sinking back
Into the ground
Singing "maybe i'm ashamed and maybe I wept real tears"
But maybe she was hiding because she wanted to be found
You wanted to be found!

Don't be afraid of him.
Be still.)

what are you holding out for? what's always in the way?
, on 3 day lessons,
i suppose thursday is the best place to begin, and a light haired blue eyed girl clacking in miniscule heels down a rain drenched sidewalk, long brown coat swishing around spindly calves, umbrella slung over one shoulder, rain running in rivulets, pooling underneath her feet. clambering into bed, i pull my headphones on over my ears, drowning out the world with bloc party, the rapture, and johnny flynn, wallowing in my own transition.
not 30 minutes later, my phone rings and yasi's voice is lilting through my ears "oh for gods sake you are so emo," she laughs "get up, get dressed, its evans birthday and we're going to zeno's".
sweep my mess away, leave my body leave my bones
i'm nervous and terrified, dons going to be there after all, but i'm dressed impeccably, the corners of my eyes dusted with sparkles and black powder, legs marginally slim under my black jeans, the corner of one collar bone peeking out from beneath my violet, sweeping sweater. theres nine of us sitting around the center table, sipping german beer as evan and i recreate photogenic moments in front of a non existent camera, singing along to atlas soundtrack, a band i haven't heard since i tripped at chucks farm and the music is so reminiscent as i begin to feel slightly tipsy, desiring to tumble into its intoxicating enormity and don is texting me from across the table "your faces are priceless."

you wouldn't put your pen to bed, but we hadn't found our own
its about accepting and developing my own reality, after all. as i drop yasi and evan back off at her place, and return to my tiny bedroom, alone, i am crushed.
its about,
no no, rewind.
its thursday morning and amy and i are sipping coffee on her family room floor and we're speaking of dissatisfaction and retarding growth and its my housing situation thats the topic of conversation i honestly don't know what to do and i tell her that "amy, please, i really dont' know, i can convince myself either way and i dont know which are my deceptions and which is the reality and i don't want to make the wrong decision.. help me.."
"i think that," she begins "you know the right answer. and that its time to stop choosing things that keep you safe, that allow you to remain in one, comfortable place."
she's right.
thank you for knowing me better than myself.

out out out its friday morning and i need to get out and chelsea and i disappear into the wilderness surrounding state college and run off into the woods around whipple dam. we're off the path and barefoot, sliding down 60 foot creek faces and splashing through the water and giggling about tree bottoms and mud and i drawl "i just, i really see nature as metaphorical of life.."
its about remaining patient even when you near the end
about venturing off the path to find something beautiful, even if its anxiety inducing. it will always be there to come back to, after all.
and how the view from the top of a long, arduous climb, is always worth the effort it took to get there.

you help me put the breaks on, because you're kind.
i wonder where you learned to be so good
its about yasi, amy and i shrouded in the dust of an old, cramped glass shop, smoking cigarettes on my porch, and how no matter what we're doing yasi makes me laugh SO HARD and as my roommates are all crowded around with us we're all laughing, all us girls, giggling like school children.
or, 3 hours later, dissolving within underoath on yasi's bed and the conversation between the three of us is causing my heart to flutter, warming. we're talking of insanity, of feeling, "we're all crazy" yasi smiles "i have these wild fits at least once a year where i just need to scream and scream and scream. its NATURAL, all these things that have been defined as abnormal. its natural and wonderful and beautiful to just want to scream and scream and scream and throw a tantrum and feel sad and feel blissfully manically happy and why would you want to deny that to yourself? to deny the ability to just want to experience the world in as large handfuls as you can grab?" ok so maybe that sentence was my words in yasi's mouth, but that was essentially the jist of the conversation, and i really do have the best friends in the whole world.
you've got me, you've got me, you've got me stole....

and now its bar bleu and its one of those nights that everyones there, don and evan again and for the love of jesus no way is it zack, conyers and hacker, standing outside smoking cigarettes and i race across the street, coat billowing out behind me and wrap them all up in my arms and the four of us, that is, me yasi zack and conyers curl up in this swanky corner with all these leather lounges and we're all sipping from the same pitcher of liquor and laughing and trading stories
"jamie do you remember that night that we went in your roommates hot tub?" zack is blushing and smiling and touching me indiscreetly and i just feel so tender and vulnerable all the time,
"you mean the night i got maced and then we both tumbled four feet to our demise?"
we're warm and cozy and happy.
and then we're dancing to low jack, and conyers is laughing "i'm really just a terrible dancer" he drawls, letting loose with a bunch of air punches "lets leave soon and smoke, do you want to do that?"
and then its zack and i, in a corner. hugging once, twice, three times. "i miss you." he whispers, into the skin behind my ear.

and then its one in the morning and conyers and i are lounged out on their sofa.
"do you remember freshman year?"
we're so high and laughing and its just the two of us
"oh my god" he begins "freshman year was basically this. get 8 or so friends together in one room, drink as much as possible as fast and possible and then blast music and have a crazy dance party, pass out, get up and do it all again."
i'm laughing
"we're all so old now god i could never do that anymore...."
"it was great while it lasted though, wasn't it?"



and how this morning, i was up early.
to see my new apartment.
its beautiful. the perfect size for me, with three huge windows in the living room, and little tiny kitchen with a window over the sink and its set away from downtown, in this little woodland haven, with round cement steps leading up to the building and as i left, clutching paper work in my hand, i let my steps fall slowly in descent, imagining myself, months from now, when that simple, solitary life is at last mine.
sitting on yasi's bed last night, amy is clasping my hand "what are you most proud of?" she asks "its been a year since you broke up with alex.. what would would say is your greatest achievement, since then."
i smile, a year.
"i used to be reckless" i begin "but it was always ok, because i had the security of a relationship to come back to, to calm me, to remind me of my center. and i've finally created that for myself. it was worth every, treacherous second."
yasi smiles, "i really am proud of you, jamie. 4 years on and off with a person.. you've come through the backlash with more grace than anyone i've ever seen. made more progress than most people would. its inspiring."
i grin, blushing into my scarf.

this morning, i turn the music up.
johnny flynns guitar is dancing through my ears.
Did you see how far I'd been? Would you meet me in an hour? I could tell you what I've seen,

Have a heart that skips a beat
Oh come on
Roll along for free
In the middle of the morning
Swap your drinking nights with me

I can live with dying
I can chew my bit
Play panic to my senses
And hijack my head
It's the rhythm of moving
And a rolling and a rattle
Its a giving instead
It's a well sprung bed
We can roll around forever
We can pray for all we've been
We can knock it hell for leather
We can call it all a dream
All a dream

For your outward bound
Remember what we found


now, put on no sex for ben, by the rapture, (http://www.myspace.com/therapture) and bop your heart out.
one, two, three, here we go..

i like to watch my lovebird in the afternoons.
I just brought him back to school about 2 weeks ago, so everything in this setting is new for him, and his current favorite pasttime involves sitting on my lampshade next to the huge window that takes up about half of my bedroom wall, watching things happen outside. He's always real scared at first, chirping incessantly, flying away in terror at the passage of any car. Soon, though, he begins to settle, messing around with the jewelry hanging from the window. Then, something scares him again, and he's off in a tirade chirping chirping chirping tearing around my room in a frenzy like a right nut job, until i gather him up in my palm, holding his ferociously beating heart close to my chest, whispering into his feathers until he settles, when i then release him to perch on my folded knee. preening himself, he settles into contentment, winded and sleepy after his wild adventure.
he's sitting there now, fluffed up and calmed, glancing back over his shoulder at me through half opened eyes.



in ten minutes though, he'll be at it again, he can't get enough of that world, and when he's frightened i'll tuck him again close to my heart, allowing his realized fears to drain away with the lulling cadence of my voice.

he's a bird after my own heart, after all.

resolution.
spending most of my time in isolation and remaining balanced with just the right influx of johnny flynn, satine, and the rapture.
but that doesn't stop me from leaping in bed with abby and chelsea for the season finale of jon and kate plus 8, or wearing blatant red today. this is a tricky one. lets hope i emerge with pages of insight. or, at the very least, some schoolwork accomplished.

what of all those wayward priests?
the ones who like to drink?
do you suppose they'd swap their blood for wine?
like you swapped yours for ink?
you wrote me oh so many letters
and all of them seemed true
promises look good on paper, especially from you
the weight of all those willing words, i carried all alone
you wouldn't put your pen to bed, but we hadn't found our own.

its far too cold today to be able to enjoy the clarity of the light, and instead i've spent the past two days with headphones pressed to my ears, exploring the wonderful world of take away shows and falling in love with a world of music i never knew existed.
most specifically, johnny flynn. he sings to the mood i'm in, slightly melancholy, but still holding to a fading glimmer of hope.
theres no reason for it, honestly. most likely just a chemical inbalance and the errant longing for something warm.


leave me nothing i dont need at all.

edit, i've noticed i dont save anything anymore, really.
textmessages, im conversations, pictures.
i'm all about deleting.
i'm not sure if this is a good change, or a bad one. either way, theyre deleted.

ca-me-ohhhhh.
there there you are, there again.
staring through the street when the lights are dim
i wonder why you are there
i'll wait, i saw you again, your gossamer skin....


2 hours ago, my phone begins to ring.
for the first time in seven months,

it was alex.
i wonder why it is therrrre oh wait, i saw you again, your gossamer skin, i saw you cameo...