Checkers.

Eyelids and city lights wouldn’t stop for anything
She was so loud
Winking at me behind that veil
Never really gone
Only hidden momentarily

I was kidnapped too young.

How do you know?
When the colors are washed out
Colors are muted, just like their mouths
How do you know with these shackles around your wrists?

We were kidnapped too young
We were so young.

Ashamed of those shackles, just like immature thoughts
Tried to hide them, tried to cover them.
And just like everything else, they bit so hard.

How do you look for comfort when all your fingers know is glass?
Only that texture.
Cold, scentless, and slippery.

How could I forget?

With all the music lyrics I post…
I’m sitting here wondering how the HELL I forgot to mention Tilly & The Wall.

Hello.
Uh, The Freest Man is basically one of my favorite songs ever.

It’s so ridiculously beautiful.
It makes me feel so foolish and romantic sometimes.

And another song I really fucking like is I Always Knew.

I used to listen to this quite a lot.
It’s a really good break up song. xD

I find I don’t have much use for it lately. [Good thing?]
But it’s still really pretty.

:] Yep.
Check ‘em out.

And, new music recommendations are always welcome/appreciated.
Just like I am with food, I’m a music garbage disposal. I’ll listen to anything.
Yes, including country.

Heart to sound.

One day I’ll write a song
Cynical and old
Bred from wavering fingers
Bred from waves that turned to stone

One day that song will grow
Grow into furrowed eyebrows that remind me of youth
Remind me of caterpillars and fuzzy tummies
Summer walks and tea

The piano will play its tune
And my nostalgic guitar will sing along
And all those old fingerprints will come alive once more
To remind me that I once held light
I used to make people smile

Feet will tap along with its tears
Tears of joy and sorrow
The song will be my past, after all
Something to call my own

If a melody could carry baggage
I imagine my tune could do it best
Wise and strong
Still alive and aware of Mother Earth

If my song connected to the land as perfectly as my toes
I imagine it would sound like Autumn
Beautiful and melancholy
I always loved the colors

And if my song ever ended
It would end with a heavy bass chord
One that would resonate for centuries
One to tell people I was here

Because every song is written for the purpose of the lyricist
It’s a stamp, a seal, a memory
A symbol to tell people that yes,
I existed.

I’ve seen the hardest people soften in the spotlight.

Man, what a gayface.

I can’t stop listening to Go Places by The New Pornographers.

Actually, I can’t stop listening to the whole album that song is on.
They’ll probably be my most played artist this week.
xD But only because I convinced one of my friends to buy the CD for me.
Otherwise I’d be whining about how someone needed to buy it for me.

Eisley was my most played artist last week, apparently.
I’m obsessed with the song Brightly Wound now.

I think it was Memories I talked about the last time I posted Eisley lyrics.
There always seems to be just one part that I really latch onto in an Eisley song.
I probably shouldn’t indicate what part it is this time. For fear of sounding lame. :’D
But it’s probably obvious, anyway.

And I think I want to be unusual today and post a third set of lyrics.
I’ve been meaning to mention how much I like the song Goodbye by The Postmarks.
It’s interesting what I think about while listening to this song.
Even though it’s about leaving on your own, I get a distinct picture of a couple.
In the snow. All bundled up together walking hand in hand.

Why?
Well.

I was talking to my mom about it, and played the song for her.
It’s funny. She thought the same thing.
I think our opinions of this song might stem off the same story/thought.

It ultimately makes me think about my parents, oddly enough.

My parents met in an interesting way.

My mom needed a ride to her then boyfriend’s house. Glen’s.
He was sick, and she wanted to visit him.
So she called him, and he arranged for a friend of his to get her.
So this guy comes and gets my mom, right?
And she gets in the car, and immediately likes this guy.
He likes her within minutes.
The drive over to Glen’s was a pretty long drive, and they got in a decent size conversation.
Long enough to apparently figure out that they didn’t want it to end.
So…They ended up not going to visit Glen.
They ended up going on a date that night.
And. Well.
Here they are thirtywhatever years later still ridiculously in love.

They just kind of up and left what they had going on before they met each other.
And I think about snow as a result because they spent a lot of years living in St. Louis and Boston.
Really snowy places during the winter.

Pretty interesting, I’d say.
Anyway, like usual.
Check out the lyrics, blah blah blah.

It’d be super cool if someone -COUGH- decided to leave me lyrics they thought were cool or whatever.
But it totally probably wont happen, so. xD

Until next time.

My timing is awesome, or I’m psychic.

I find it really fucking weird that I mentioned my friend Sio a few days ago, and I ended up talking to her last night.

I only hear from this girl once every few months.
And last time we talked, I was pretty sure it would be the last.

Before she isolated herself, we talked nearly every day.

And when we talk now, our phone conversations take on epic time amounts.
Our longest was just over eight hours. And there was hardly a lull.

I find it hard to believe that so much insight and intelligence could rest in one single person.
I’m still absolutely floored by what comes out of her mouth. Both positive and negative.

I have heard the most unsettling stories from her. The most hideous things that could happen to a human, or what a human could witness. She has told me. She has witnessed. She has survived.

The only unnerving thing about her is the fact that very rarely, she just stops talking.
She pauses.
And she tells me “I love you.”
She doesn’t mean it in an I’m in love with you kind of way.
She just tells me to let me know that I’m genuinely appreciated.
And it sounds foreign to me suddenly. Because it’s so very rare that I hear those words in absolute sincerity.
It’s so rare to hear those words knowing that she has no ulterior motive.
She wont need me tomorrow for something, she doesn’t expect anything from me.
She tells me in a way that someone might tell me I have brown hair.
She doesn’t expect to hear it back, either.

I don’t love her. I don’t. She knows, and it doesn’t phase either of us.
I respect her, though. I respect her, and I think that’s the compensation.
She has always been one hundred percent honest with me.

Interestingly enough she’s also a writer.
And instead of feeling envy, I only feel inspiration.
Even though she’s fantastic. She’s brilliant.
I think I can’t even begin to feel jealous, because she is so incredibly different from me.
She admits that her thought patterns confuse even her.

But yeah.
I just felt like I needed to talk about her.
She’s so fucking different from everyone I’ve ever met.
I’ve learned things about myself, and about people in general though talking with her.

And really, that’s probably the best gift anyone could ever give me.
Knowledge and growth.

And…just one last thought.
I really appreciate the fact that whenever I think I have a problem.
After I finish my story.
She asks me what about the situation I can control.
And most of the time, I realize I can control everything.
And I tell her that.
She laughs.
Then tells me to go fix it. Just do it. You’ll be fine.

So, I like to play dress-up sometimes.

Business time Oli.

Business hours are over. xD

I’m ordering a monocle.
And.
I really want to go back to that Army Surplus store on Haight and check out Top Hats.

Somebody needs to be the lady to my cross-dressing gentleman self.
For sure.

No questions. No questions. No excuses and no lies.

The fifth rule about Project Mayhem is you have to trust Oli.

If you caught that modified reference, high five.

You know, I feel pretty fucking good right now.
And it’s really interesting, because not thirty minutes ago I felt like complete garbage.
I think I started feeling better in the middle of my American Sign Language class when my brain gloriously muse’d back on.
I was talking to someone yesterday and mentioned how my brain was fresh out of ideas.
Then. Poof.
I love how that works.

I was just sitting there, and I just started to loop Imogen Heap’s song Whatever in my head.
It made me feel so much better.
Because it’s totally how I feel right now. Totally.
It’s so satisfying to have all my thoughts collected into a song.
I’m not crazy if someone else thought the same thing I’m thinking. xD

And now I’m sitting here, actually playing the song, and I’m laughing because it feels so goddamn liberating to clearly express what I couldn’t. Even if it’s through someone else’s words.
It’s totally flushing unwanted bullshit negativity out of me.

Just, wow.
If I didn’t already appreciate how fantastic music can be for a human, I’d probably start right now.

I feel brilliant. I feel cocky, and I feel important.
And I’d like to give a big fuck-you to the people who’ve made me feel otherwise recently.

I’m talking to a beautiful girl, I’m in the best shape of my life, I’m writing better, I’ve got goals, and I’ve got a newfound appreciation for the freedom I have.

I’m only limited by how much I want to give or do.

For example. (Small one)
A few days ago it was raining, and I was totally bummed that I couldn’t get out and take my walk.
And I was sitting there thinking.
Then I was like. Well, it’s not really the rain stopping me from walking.
So I went out anyway.
It made me feel like a kid again. Sloping around in my clothes, not really caring that I looked ridiculous, or that I might catch a cold.

As we grow, we lose the part of us that doesn’t care about what other people think.

I liked knowing that someone in their car thought I was bogus.
And I laughed out loud. Out in the rain. Alone, and soaking wet.
Interesting how my absolute happiness was probably mistaken for insanity.

Come on, let’s go.
I know you want to.
Those legs want to see exactly what I have to offer.
I’ll teach you how to walk.
I’ll teach you how to fucking fly if you want.
Just tell me.

And when you feel adequate.
Show it off.
Wear your pride like the definition.
Make people want you.
Make them look twice, thrice, quadruple.
Tell them who you are, and what you’re capable of.

You’re a fucking brick wall, lady.
Remember that you’re a mountain.
Those thoughts under your nails are going to make you famous.

You know it.

What the hell is practicality anyway?
It’s just another word.
Success is a word too, you know.

Adopt the belief of supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, where anything is possible.
Reality is what you say it is.
Don’t scoff and tell me I’m just a dreamer.
You had dreams once, too.

All the most recognized people in history were dreamers.
Dare to go for it.
Dare to hit rejection.
Dare to conquer what your mother told you was impossible.

Listen to Peter Pan.
He dressed cooler.

Here’s to fairies
Here’s to fables
Here’s to magic
Here’s to make-belief
Here’s to childhood and jellybeans
Here’s to the man in the moon
Here’s to the rainbow and the color gold
Here’s to forts and castles.

Here’s to princesses.
As many as you want.

You have hands.
Just open the door.

Shut up.

Dear self,

Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.

Love,
Yourself.

Good morning.

Did you know it could happen to you?

No, I wasn’t aware.
Nobody told me that one day I’d be laying here
Cheek pressed against my pillow
Lips catching on the fabric
The constant moistening causing them to crack

I’ve heard the phrase
“Pain you can smile through” before
Never had I seen it in practice.
I’m one crazy motherfucker.

You sit there and you wonder
And you wonder why you wonder
Then someone tells you to stop
And still you wet your lips
In preparation to start again
To remember past visitors.
To tell a story.

But today, your audience is humble.
Today they have a story for you.

The biggest cup of “What the fuck?” ever.

xD Holy shit.
So.

I’m browsing the internet today, trying to procrastinate on a paper I have for class.
And I stumble across [quite possibly] the most ridiculous thing in existence.

I’m talking about the new web-based show 3Way
Produced in part by Maeve Quinlan .
Yeah. Her.
The woman who plays Spencer Carlin’s mother on The N’s South of Nowhere.

Maybe having a “gay daughter” made her realize how truly amazing the lesbian community really is?
Although Maeve still plays a straighty, I bet it was all those hours watching Mandy Musgrave paw all over Gabrielle Christian that made her curious. xD

But seriously?
I watched the first episode, which can be found on the 3Way website, as well as youtube.

I can’t get over it. xD It’s such bad acting/shooting/humor.
Like. I LAUGHED. But out of…pity?

Let me post the show summary really quick.

3Way is Three’s Company for a new generation.

After a tabloid-worthy divorce from vintage action star Dirk LaBonte, Siobhan (Maeve Quinlan) moves her lesbian best friend, Roxie (Cathy Shim), into her house believing this will be good for both her soul and her newly flattened wallet. Siobhan’s looking for a brand new start. A week later, in true lesbian fashion, Roxie moves her new girlfriend, Andrea (Jill Bennett), into the house, making it a 3Way. Roxie’s ex, Geri, (Maile Flanagan) inserts herself into the 3way.

WHO thought this would be a good idea?
Who?
Hm?

Like.
If The L Word gave birth to all of its bad scenes, and pushed them into a tiny ball, then released it on the internet…

You get where I’m going with this.

But yeah, if you’re bored. Go for it. Watch it.
There’s only three episodes out as of now, it looks likes. Plus some weird interview with Maeve’s character Siobhan.

I dunno. I didn’t really do any research on this.
I just kind of crapped my pants when I saw who was in it/what the main character’s name was.

Because, to those of you who know me…you know who I automatically think of when I hear the name “Siobhan” (Pronounced: Shiv-awn for those of you who haven’t met someone with that name before)
I think of Sio. My Siobhan.
Big butch American Indian Siobhan.

And then I look at Maev.

xD Dear god. I can’t even stop laughing at that comparison.

Damn you internets, damn you.