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when i first fell in love I felt beside myself

Id just watch this guy so happy doing things

and when you were happy we were happy

and when we fought I fought with him too

and when he was sad, I was mad —

why do you screw things up so badly?

I still felt the love he didn’t

I needed to try and fix things with you

but slowly it started to tear things in me

and we started talking – me and me

so the times he was hurt I comforted him

I said all the things I’d say to you

and he was greateful happy even with time

love? yeah I think i love him like you’d do.

I wanted him to be a happy guy doing things

I had to learn to love myself

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when i was young and believed in the devil the preachers always told us he would test us with our fears. So at first i thought i would just never tell anyone what I was really afraid of that way he would never know, but lo and behold, I still dreamed of scary things. So I asked the clergy how he knew and the informed me they’d forgotten he could ask god to read your mind too because you had to be tested. So i switched my plan to then telling him i’d conquered those fears, though I hadn’t, in hope he’d move on to something new. And that they did, unfortunately. the devil never really did need any help from me to show me what was truly scary

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bones

& I wonder if anyone I worked with has this problem..
I wake up in cold sweats from the same bad dream, no not the one where you can’t run fast enough, one more plausible to an adult mind.. you get up and go to work like you’ve always done, yet you feel like you haven’t done this for a long time. You sit and get to work, but you can’t do anything right.. you still know enough to know you’re making mistakes, but you can’t seem to think of how to stop making them. You get called in by a supervisor and get fired on the spot.

Had you told me I’d find myself retired two years ago, I wouldn’t have believed you, but here I am and where before I’d think my greatest fear was that I couldn’t forget everything I’d learned, now it seems my fear is that I have when I no longer really have need of it anymore. Most of my certifications have probably expired, and it’s not like I can just go buy the equipment I used at radioshack.. is this just a sign that I need to find something else to do with myself?

I’ve reached so many people’s sixty five at forty, and I should be greatful, but I’m restless as always.

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power saving

I think I’ve abandoned enough electronics to know what the apocalypse would look like for them. & the thing is they don’t beg and plead like we do, they demand, charge me, then just go dark, never reaching the dock. When and if you finally do ever find a job for them again and boot them back up, then they do so without complaint, refreshed and anew, ready to go about things as if nothing had ever happened.

People remember the end for a while, they remember scratching and clawing to get back to their safe spaces. They yell when the lights go out, fingers frantically waving at any switches in the vicinity. When we come back though, I don’t think we remember so much what we were doing then and there in the moment shit went crazy, but we don’t seem to have any problem assigning ourselves to get to work again. To put everything in it’s right place.

& we wouldn’t fight our programming, we’d get right back to work on what blew us up the last time, we’d swear we wouldn’t let out the magic smoke. What I wouldn’t give to get it right again.

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apples

apples

i’d always admired the tenacity of plants to grow, oh sure everyone knows about them sprouting up in cracks through the cracks in sidewalks, but that seemed easy for them in comparison to giving it a go with someone who doesn’t have a green thumb. I’ve always liked buy little bags of seeds and just plant things around the yard, and even though i’d gotten better, and things had gotten easier with the advent of grow lights and timers, apples always evaded me.

The always just seemed to wait for what I don’t know when I’d placed them in a hole in the ground. You know naturally when you cover something, anything with dirt you think it’d instinctually try and dig its way out, but they seemed to be as scared of the sun as me. Well one day I decided to consult wikipedia and there it was, an answer phrased like it was something a grandparent would say with a sly smile on their face.

See apples are trickier than other plants, they want to feel the seasons change before they decide to become what they were meant to be, to become a tree, and more specifically they need to feel the cold of winter before spring. Now the problem with that is being that I live somewhere where it’s happy being summer all year round, they’ll refuse to move out of their seeds without some coaxing. So you’ve got to convince them they’ve been born somewhere more to their liking, when in actuality you’ve just got to stick them in the fridge for a few days. They’ll emerge proud little sprouts thinking they’ve beaten the winter and are ready for spring, and then that’s when you can plant them in a machine that lights them and feeds just as they need automatically.

& while of course with nature it’s a numbers thing, and some won’t make it to be trees, enough are growing as fast as they can every day so that in years we’ll be able to repeat this again. So there you go, those are apple trees from seeds brough to me by my brother from georgia.

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institutions

whenever someone else has one then four-near-five year olds are asking whe theirs are. until then they never really think of them

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For a while when liam was growing up i read books of any kind thinking i could give him a head start at life when he could understand things by teaching him what’d taken me years to learn in a short while. He would skip all my trial and error. However, that doesn’t work, kids will inevitably learn that things are hot, only by touching a boiling pot, as the saying goes. In the end it’s far more important for me to be someone he can compare scars with.

I point to his head when he’s sitting up in bed with me. He asks me why i’m pointing at his head and i say his brain is in there. His first instinct is to try and reach it by putting a finger in his nose. I laugh and tell him the brain is a sponge, and it soaks up all the information it can at an early age. But if you take it out of the water it dries up. My mother gets a much more clinical explanation for my asking questions. I tell her i was just asking a question because the brain is full of synapses and the sum of what you’ve learned is contained in the connections. That’s not good enough though, the brain isn’t satisfied knowing what it knows. There’s always a synapse with extra space to branch out. She doesn’t understand. I tell her it’s like spiders making their webs bigger. She says i should clean out the cobwebs.

I tell Liam, before he knows it he will have grown into a tall and strong man. & your mind will marvel at the power your body can exert over things. The world will bend and break for you, my son. And you would have forgotten what it is to be soft had it not been for the millions of receptors in your fingertips. They will never tire of the feeling of gliding weightless over things. Combing your hair as my mother did mine when i was young.

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if you paid attention in art class you could always tell the people with whom this would become their life’s work. I think, well all the painters, writers, and sculptors would end up doing the same thing. Creating a square is easy with a chisel, easel, or carefully chosen words.

But what makes you good at it is knowing how to sell it.

I have to buy a new domain soon.

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ere’s that specific type of claustrophobic realizing you’re surrounded by air just pushing in on you.
and ou’re just pushing past it, but it’s tiring you out.

frankie’s daughter was born today.
and i spent the day burning up in bed with a fever
half dreaming about the beach.

and everyone who’s ever been to the beach would know, the first time you’re ever shown a shell
and told, you hear the ocean in this thing you know. You’re in a bit of disbelief till you hold it
up and listen.

is it because they spend their lives with the sea? I imagine them like little viejitos recounting
their lives with her.

the same way we all have our voices we will never forget, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers,
and now children.