If I can't catch you when you fall, I'll jump with.

--mgl

This is all that's left
(scraping paper to document)
I've packed a change of clothes
'cause it's time to move on.

Photobooth, Death Cab for Cutie

King of the World

When I was a child, there was a popular saying to bullies. When a kid stepped out of line and tried to boss someone else around we would say, "Who made you King of the world?” Yesterday I asked myself that. It was a Wednesday, innocently enough. Wednesday is the day that all the English Assistants have the day off so we usually plan on doing something as a group. I met up with two of my friends, Bob and Steve, and they suggested that we catch the new Tom Cruise film: Lions for Lambs. It sounded good enough and once I found out that it was to be shown in 'version originale', I was doubly excited. We purchased our tickets, a bag of M&Ms, and settled in to have a good time. About ten minutes in to the film, I started to sense something was wrong. The thought struck me: When did Tom Cruise start making propaganda? The film was 92 minutes of political bullshit. The same line that the Reps have been toying since the beginning of the war: give us a chance, it is ‘us’ against ‘them’, and the media are the ones losing the fight. I walked away with more than a stomach ache from the M&Ms.
I walked away ashamed.
I was sitting next to two Brits, in a room of French people and I just wanted to hide. As I watched the drama and rhetoric unfold, I felt like I was listening to an old story that I heard too many times before. The movie was meant to inspire Americans to be more patriotic and to serve our country.
It was meant to inspire.
I was inspired. I was inspired to start going to Peace rallies when I get home. I was inspired to convince my friends to actually register to vote so that their words would be heard. I was inspired to change something because our attitudes in the states just aren't cutting it. This week France has been crippled by transportation, student, and civil servant strikes. I find it utterly annoying and sometimes frivolous but at least they are fucking doing something. We sit back and don't give a shit about what is happening in our country. We are wealthy and blessed beyond imagine and we cannot even see it. We walk around patting ourselves on the shoulder while there is horrendous poverty and education next door. We say we are so proud to be American when we don't even understand what the word means.
So who made us King of the World?
We did
We did with our inflated ego trips and propaganda films.
We did with our righteous attitudes and God Bless America signs
We did with our bombing and occupation of foreign countries.

I love America but sometimes I really hate being American.

Yours are the Words

Shadows dancing slow,
the sound of air between.
Taste of a memory:
an imaginary dream

The quiet crescendo
falling back in my mind.
The taste of a memory.
The ruins of a sign.

A play on words
waking up into mourning
tastes of a memory:
ghosts of a good thing.

Beside myself inside
something more than you.
A taste of a memory-
one i once knew

The quiet crescendo,
a sound of air between.
Tastes like a memory.
The ghost of a good thing.

Love Letter to a Blog

It has been a long time since last we spoke but I am thinking of you, I want you to know. Before, words would flow out of me, their only hinderance the speed of my keystrokes. Now there is silence. I want to reach out to you again and tell you all about the life I have been living but my words are now lost. I am without a home or country but I feel firmly rooted in place. My longing for independence is gone as I find myself alone. What could I telll you about this alien land? It is cold here. My bed is empty and my heart is slowly following its lead. I want to be happy, and I have found joy, but my young soul is aging every day. No longer do I feel the sheer abandonment of youth but, rather, the cold practicality of wisdom. I want to be stupid and reckless but there are things I love greater than my selfish need.
I love the sense of accomplishment.
I love a well-rested body and a clear head.
I love the moments of silent reflection that last for hours.
I love knowing exactly what I want
I hate not having it
I have not written in a long time but I want you to know I am thinking of you. I need you to know there is something here that I cannot say but one day I will. I will tell you everything, just give me the time.

a name

you are

more than

you are

a name

maybe there was a moment before but now i am unsure that surely there would have been a moment before of that i am sure.

lyrics run around my head but come to nothing. they look forward to your looks again

The Only Ones


you look too familiar to be wrong
let me find a moment
let me find a face
dark eyes, dark hair
looks that need a song....
the substances moved through our veins
you were the king and i was the queen