Sarah Smokes

Remorse

I still remember what it was like.
And as I've grown older,
I still wonder about the paths that I could have taken,
and each separate incident that closed a door for me.

I wouldn't call it regret though.
I would call it a feeling of remorse, or
wonder,
perhaps.

There are two different set ideologies
that follow us to two different paths.

The first being predestination;
ie I was destined by fate to fail the way I failed
yet also succeed the way I succeeded.

Or the second being each decision I make
unlocks new doors for my self,
and at the same time closes others.

So what I feel, is wonder,
what if I had taken the path that I'd took.
What If I had chosen to do something differently.

Am I feeling this sort of multi-emotional feeling of
contentment,
beyond that I've felt before,
and remorse,
far worse than ever, but not as bad as contentment.

I often wonder if in 5 years I'll again regret the feelings I'm feeling now
or maybe I'll stop regretting the decisions I've made in the past.
It's like a paradox of emotion.

But.

If you asked me if I were to redo parts of my life over again,
I would probably say no.
Because it's that mystery, that leap into the dark,
that makes life all the more worth living.

Musings on Death and Memory (Subtitle: Words to You part IV)

We lose so many thing in our time on this earth.

Our lives
Our loves
Ourselves.

And while there may be several
6 to 10 people
who can bring the sort of longing for a better world
back into our eyes
and in our minds
It always ends up that it's easier to forget.

I've almost locked away every memory.
I hate remembering things because every time I do,
I remember how much I've fucked up my life
and I don't like revisiting the journey I've taken
to put all the pieces back together again.

And even if some day
Some how!
I'm going to die!

I'm content that I've lived each
solitary
moment
to its fullest.

And loved like there was a fire in my heart.

Things I've been doing since the sun hit the earth. (my christmas letter wow!)

Hello?
Mom?
Dad?

Anyone?

Are you out there?
Is anyone listening?

I just wanted to say, "Hi," but sometimes saying hello is harder than saying goodbye.
I've been on such a wild ride for the last 2 years since since I've written anything here, but
hey you have to start somewhere.

I'm almost twenty years old, and these days I'm still trying to find out who I really am.
I've gotten close once or twice, believe you me, but I can feel the parallel lines inside my heart
blur together.

A lot can happen in 2years.
I've broken and built too many bridges that its been overwhelming,
I've thought about living for ever and killing myself too many times,
I've fallen in and out of love and back into love again,
I've said thank you and sorry to to many things, and goodbye to not enough.

But people don't like to hear about some a fucking list of metaphoric bullshit
People like events, people like to know what they've been through.

Well, here you go.

A year and a half ago I left the LDS church and it was the best decision I've ever made.
My parents hate me for it, and hardly speak to me, but it maters that I'm happy.

I'm going back to therapy, and probably back on the pill
some days it feels like I'm dying inside and I don't know why. I just need to talk to someone I guess.
I hate therapists, they make me feel insignificant for some reason, but
if I'm going to not want to die, I should probably talk to someone about it you know.

I played the lead in a musical,
wow!
That was the best experience because without artistic expression I feel like I'm going down the shitter.
Which is bad.
So I love being in a play, and feeling like I'm actually doing something with my life.

Riffing off that, I've recently started a theater company!
go to whoslouis.com to check out it and the work we've done,
we do devised work,
I'm fairly certain that "devised" theater is going to be the new meta in the next 5 years.

I lost my virginity, that was amazing. but more importantly,
I've met a girl,
she's beautiful and smart and talented and funny.
she makes me feel special, like I actually matter.
It sounds cliche but, shes filled this mental hole that exists inside me and I finally feel happy.
I didn't know I've never felt real happiness until I met her.

Well thats me, idk, text me or something.
It's been a while.
I took away commenting because I just wanted people to read stuff.
But hey, if you wanna say hi, say hello.

A Fire at 128 Redding St.

It's a Thursday afternoon and, echoing off the tall skyscrapers, you can hear Danielle's heels click against the pavement. It's a normal day in San Francisco, which means that all the window panes are dribbled with a light rain, and the gray sky gives a comforting feel.

Walking briskly as she rushes to make an appointment with a prospective client, she suddenly stops in front of the bright red double doors that open to the Redding St. diner. Thought it looks like a drop of rain, a salty tear runs from the well of her eye. It rolls off her face, down her flowery sun dress, and lands on the toe of her brown leather boots. She turns, almost in a gasp of breath, when she hears footsteps behind her.

"It was a beautiful place." She says, with a dismal nature.

"It wasn't, really." I say, with a cracked smile.

+ + +

"Welcome everyone, to the 18th and 1/4 anniversary of 128 Redding St." I announce over the PA system in the Diner. They all clap in approval. "Thank you all for joining me on this fine occasion, for music, and food, and lots of other great stuff."

BOM BOM BOM! *drum noise*

The music goes in an uproar and everyone starts dancing once again. It's a jolly throng where people lose their souls again and become whole. It's as if time itself stops and the eternal realm gives itself to our countenance.

We again are delivered.

A bottle pops in the back room. An alarm sounds. A quickening shriek fills the room. A woman runs from the back. A lick of read flame explodes and engulfs the kitchen. A group of kids runs from the diner. A siren is hear down the avenue. A jet of water is released a little too late. A diner is diminished to ruble.

A smile cracks my face.

+ + +

"Why did you do it?" She says.
"It was for my own good." I say.
"You were just fine." she says.
"I was lost." I say.

+ + +

Regarding the little things; they matter only to the chosen.

Though we may journey through life, and those that may shuffle through our doors will influence, it is recognizable that one must give to receive.

Having been ruled by our peers for centuries to come, it is well said that the wise man owns his own mind.

+ + +

It's a summer day and I'm sitting on the roadside waiting for a cab. The air breathes itself nimbly on my tongue, and a red glow seeps on the horison of the highrises.

Goodbye and goodnight, for time itself must end, and shadows are but lurking in the soles of our footsteps. I keep but only the quiet people with me.

My mind maybe clensed, but in my heart they reside.

Recently Believed to be Lost

To those with lost dogs: Give up it's not coming home.
To Mom's with lost little girls: Give up it's not coming home.

There's this kid in a hospital ward up in Salt Lake City, who I'm fairly certain is battling cancer. But since his mom is a bigot and his dad is a homophobe, he doesn't get the love/care he needs. Which I guess means he's going to die of the cancer. So what happens is some nice lady in a pencil skirt comes down from the 'foster people' or whatever, and she says that she's going to make sure that this kid gets cured of cancer. See, it's her job to make sure kids get what they need, like she makes 60k a year giving to other people in lieu of the fed. This isn't a happy ending though, because the kid dies of cancer the next day. I heard it on NPR this morning. Who's fault was it?

Was it the bigot mom? Was it the homophobic dad? Was it the nice blonde (at least I think she was blonde) pencil skirt lady? Maybe it was God's fault, because it was time for the cancer kid to die and whatever the bigot mom homophobic dad or pencil skirt lady did he was just going to die anyway.

The kid's funeral is on saturday, along with the 155,000 other people in the world who died today.

When I noticed it was raining the other day,

I took a gander to stick my neck out into the black void

and touch God's tears.

They were cold and wet

and warm and dry at the same time.

And the evening smelt of a bonfire.

=Dominic.

It's been a year

It's been a year since I've last sat down at the dinner table in my front parlor.
It's been a year since I've given my mom a hug.

It's been a year since I could feel my own thoughts coursing through my brain.
It's been a year since I believed in the magic of the universe.

It's been a year since I've noticed the fringe on an aspen leaf.
It's been a year since I've tarried at the front of the pack.

It's been a year since I wanted to be an astronaught.
It's been a year since I studied for a spelling test.

It's been a year since I've listened to the wind and the people around me.
It's been a year since I've actually smiled, not out of pity.

It's been a year since I retreated to the lake in the hills,
or the shade tree without leaves in my front yard.

The world is kind to those who member it.
But it takes years to hold onto the memories of your past.

The world is horrid to those who possess it.
And it takes only a moment to forget what you

- Dominic.

On Hiatus

I've been perpetually on hiatus from my life, and these blog doo-wangies seem to be just interjections in my own un-still thoughts. But before I elaborate, I'd like to illustrate a brief scenario for you.

Because of all the hype recently, I opened up the green writer's paris web page once again. I read the latest news -- which, by the way, I won't deny was quite shocking -- but also proceeded to scroll through the list of blogs, which were still housed in their usual right hand column. I continued to read through the writers on the list, and soon my 5 minute venture had turned into an hours worth.

And, at long last, I arrived at my own listing, a small blip in the eternity of writing. Simply, a useless collection of words.

Fin.

I've been on hiatus too long. I've starred at too many blank screens yearning for my brain to process some sort of information, but every time I opened a new post and tried to write, the words escaped me (I now have close to 8 or 9 new drafts respectively).

This isn't your cliché writers block blog write, it's more of a cry into the dark; as if Donna at the dispatch office has just sent out a group of rescue fire fighters to discover the souse of an atomic explosion.

Emily told me the other day that there are always words in her, that they just are swimming up there ready to make conception. She said it was probably how I thought about music, but as I've thought about it, it's more like my brain is on menopause, and some unknown force won't let me bleed.

Is it easy to forget yourself?

I've always wondered why life just ends, and maybe, just maybe;

this is it. So, I'm now writing my eulogy I guess.

*Drumroll ensues*

Thank you all my friends for being there. Thank you parents for trying. Thank you God for not giving up, even if I did.

Well then, that's it.

See you next Tuesday?

- Dominic.

Stomped by the Boot

"It's always Red outside."

"Sarah, that's called blue, not Red."

"It's always Red Outside."

-----------------------------------------------

Mornings like this always finish with a pinkish tinge in the sky and little starts staring through my window.

It's been a while since I've stared at the stars, but now that I'm looking, I feel almost unbeknownst to what lies behind me.

The skies begin to clear, and all I see are planets, and galaxies.

And I begin to see the black holes too.

Can you see 'em too?

Way out there.

It's beautiful, isn't it?

Nowadays, it's always red outside because I think man wanted to forget about God. You know, since he can see through the black, they had to start using Red. We all used to think it was a pretty color, but once you've seen red once you've seen it a million times. If you know what I mean.

You once told me that I've got to break free someday. It's always been up or down with you, but can't we think about the X's and Y's too for some time? They've been in strict discrimination, and I'm sick of always putting the dog to sleep.

I used too much Red didn't I.

Guess, I've just been stomped by your boot.

Oppression

"Sarah, I've always wondered why you are hiding."

"I'm not hiding."

"Of course you are."

"I'm not hiding, I'm looking for something in the places nobody else looked."

-----------------------------------------------

It's a wonderful feeling to realize that we weren't made to be perfect. It can be dark outside, and we are unable to see, but as the times have grown longer, we can still see with just an Apple. Adam never had that convenience, that's for sure. Instead his wife was bitten by a snake and then they were thrown into the eternal pit of darkness. What? Oh yeah, that's called Earth.

WELCOME TO EARTH

POPULATION 7 Billion +

There's a rolling ticker in space that kind of looks like our debt counter that counts all the people, just incase the aliens come and need to know how many Atomic Bombs to use. Actually they just use laser beams, but in this day and age, it'd still take a lot of resource to fire those bad boys. Right? You've seen Star Trek. We've all seen Star Trek.

If you really think about it, we have a lot of things in common -- our Earth and the future one. In both worlds everyone who has a red shirt dies. Of course by red shirt I mean red skin, and they both die by some foreign invader. Just ours are white, and Kirk's are green. I assume they're also looking for the northwest passage across the milky way.

Our galaxy is so vast, and so is our timeline. If the time of just the earth were scaled to an hour, then our modern civilization would only be 1/10 of a second, and Jesus just happened 6 seconds ago. True, because that's what my church tells me.

100 000 years from now?

WELCOME TO EARTH

POPULATION 0

BECAUSE WE KILLED OURSELVES

or was that god...

From Bide to Bile

Ornaments hung rom the voluptuous tree
in the drawing room of the studio
apartment on 93rd and Park. They
who fell on Hecate's brambles did not
see what it meant to be alive, and
he that elopes with Aphrodite does not
know what it means to feel alive

We blind the dogs in the nighttime;
We cut the cats of Kristallnacht.

It was days since the attack on our
raspberry bushes. The aphids came at
us in full force, tearing the bush from
limb to limb, and eating every leaf.
The garden almost had been
replanted until he came
to knock it down, onto the patio.

Why does the owl kill its prey?
Why does the stork deliver its darkness?

It was the fact that James groaned about
receiving something he didn't deserve that
made Alan Turing put himself back
on a shelf. It should have been
Nikola Tesla
to shave off the work, but he was too busy
buying stock in Apple.

It's tiring to think we could have made it,
and lonesome to believe we did.

But most of all,

We've fallen short of the Sun.

Congratulations!

Interventions and Lullabies

Maybe it was the smell of the cigarette. Maybe it was the sound if the owl hooting. Or perhaps I've just swam in the sewer for to long.

Dying slowly is something I've never wanted to do, so I hope to dash that experience from my destiny. But I do know what is too come.

It was a cool summer, not brutally hot but with an air of freshness; like the window open in a drawing room on a spring afternoon. This cool summer breeze played across our faces as we say on the bench in a dusty park on a cloudy evening. We three were content because at this moment there was finally silence. We put our arms around each other and sighed into the earth.

Life is short only if you make it.

The moon will tell you there's a dark side to everyone, but I think there are those who can form the dark into eternal light.

It was the middle of winter, so I don't know why we decided to lay on the grass, at night, in the backyard. I was trying to tell a story but kept being interrupted by anxiety and panic attacks. I hit myself so many times that night, I lost my mind. And when I finished, we both cried. Then you told me a story and we cried even more. Then you told me we should go inside so your parents wouldn't think we eloped.

Or the stars align, or the comets crash into the earth, or God forgets about his monsters.

The best night was when we all took the train to spring, and walked the south amongst man's statues. We were great in the city of eternal blood.

I never thought that I would let the moon dictate my tides. But it seems that we all depend on our faithful sky-companion to return every night. What if one day it didn't show up? What would we do? Can you survive on the sun alone? We can't exist without the moon to guide our stay. I tried, and could not break the bond.

Diana, take us home.

Phoebe, please due us our right.

Hecate, change us with your spells.

Artemis, free us from ourselves.

Clocks on God

Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Goes the clock
Of our hearts
To our death
Every second
To our death
Bleed a little
Be afraid
Bleed a little
Don't look back
Is he dead?
Are you dead?
Dead? Death.
Killed
By time.

We are vastly less than ourselves until

Our triumphant funeral day arrives then

We are put to be more than we

Ever were when we were alive.

"Welcome to the table!

Heaven bound or Hell?

Don't wait til you're able,

He can know as well!"

Damned

"You should have been afraid."

Look he to the left of

the monolith, it covers the souls

Of swine and ignorance.

"Please sir, can I have some more?"

Tape shut your box and cast it into the fire of

God's eyes. Be contained in a piece of infinity

Don't stop scrolling through the ships manifest

Look

Find.

Why does the world end?

Why do the souls die?

This is the way the world ends.

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Stagnant

"I am at a loss for words, because time flows faster for me now."

"And how does that make you feel?"

Shut he hell up.

"Fine, I guess."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am standing in an empty tunnel. I have always loved the feeling when a train passes by. The wind picking up off its limbs, filling the pores of my soul. Making me feel alive.

When the tunnel is empty, so is the diner.

I have always considered myself a pessimist, because I believe that as hard I try I can never fulfill myself to the highest standard of those around me.

I'm not really a pessimist any more.

My weeks have been flowing together these days, each one into the next. I've been grounded. Not in the way you think. I'm grounded in that it feels as if my body has melted into the ground.

GROUNDED!!!

While my friends are getting high, stealing stoplights, and lighting fireworks in the back of the bus, I've been losing my mind to the rising wind. Finally taking the path that is less traveled. All the more for that.

Now, I am .

Interregnum:

Dispend what is suspended: Everyday I can see you walking on thin air.

Weigh what is weighted: I can see the brambles in every palpatation of your chest.

Want what is unwanted: You are pushing aside those that what to be let in.

Return to what you left: Far I way I see a you silhouetted on the dark and damned sky.

Re- re- re- re- re- re- re- re- think.

You did, I didn't.
I did, you didn't.
We did, we didn't.
We don't.

Try again?
Failure.

Let's begin to be happy, and
Stop finding ways to blame
Ourselves.

And ways to blame eachother.

Question for an interregnum!
And resolve an anarchy between our souls.