what was that name again . . .

[mr. kennsington]

i remember, back in high school
in 12th grade to be exact studying a style of japanese poetry. not haiku, no reason, no rhyme, no rhythmn. just a stream of conscious thought.
wandering thought
i wander
i wonder
it makes perfect sense that this style of poetry is simply, perfectly perfect just for me.
wandering thought
intersecting planes of consciousness
concept mixed with thought, sprinkled with idea, add a pinch of memory, a dash of dreams. . .
blended hopes
baked dreams
dreams like i had in 12th grade when i was studying this style of japanese poetry which has a name but my frayed mind can no longer find the stitch that led to the seam which held the name of the style in my memory.
my memory reminds me of those days . . .
i had one family, one home.
in those days i could look someone in the eye and say, "hi. my names danny and i live at 517 state school rd. selinsgrove pa 17870. i have a mother her name is kylene marie sanders. i have a father his name is gerald david sanders. they dont live together but, hey, not everybody is meant to be together right?"
right.
not everybody is meant to be together.
some people were meant to be alone.
have you ever felt alone? you know on saturday night when you couldnt get a date and the only thing keeping you company is al pacino in his latest role on dvd or vhs, and mr peanut in the can on the couch next to you.
alone.
you want to know what alone is?
i do.
to learn, all you need do is come to my apartment on thanksgiving or christmas. put on my underwear, my american eagle carpenter jeans, black nautica belt and tshirt . . .
walk by the big screen TV and dvd player. thru the kitchen past my computer, the fridge and ouch! shit, stub your toe on the door mount in the dark . . .
turn on the bathroom light and wait . . .
flicker
buzz
flash
oh theres the light. beautiful light. vibrant halogen brilliance. illuminating the void. grasp the toothbrush. reach for the toothpaste. smear it on the bristles. close the medicine cabinet and . . .
fuck
there i am
all dressed up and pretty. ready for work. work on a holiday. its fucking thanksgiving and im going to work. shouldnt i be spending it with my family?
family.
i had a family.
i had a family once.
once back in 12th grade.
yeah, back in 12th grade when i was studying this style of japanese poetry. and ill be damned if i can remember the name of it. no reason. no rhyme. no rhythm.
just a stream of conscious thought.
wandering thought
transient ideas
following the track from present moment to past dreams ending at future memory.

 

[E-girl]

of all the things that i am lucky enough to know you for -- your intelligence, your beauty, your charisma -- this was one thing i never really got to know yet... your writing. but it matches the rest of you perfectly. that's no surprise.
it's 1:47 on a wednesday, approximately 13 minutes before i fail the test for which i am totally not prepared, and i read this, and have this sadness through me, not because i feel bad for you, but because there is this thing, about which you never confide in me, but that i now get a hint of, and what really saddens me is knowing that nothing i can ever do or say, can fix this for you. that... that kills me.
but it's one of those things that one must accept in life. you had a family... something went wrong.. you dont have it anymore. but maybe there's that little thought in the back of your head that keeps you awake some night... "Do they ever think of me?" These people have known you for your whole life, and me... i only know you for a small piece of it. But all i know is that there's no way that they can know you, and not be thinking of you every now and then, from wherever they are.
But you're not alone... i promise you that. even when your house is empty, and even when you're walking through that restaurant robotically while everyone else is with their families on the holidays, you are not alone... there's this girl, close by, who thinks of you so often that its like you've never left the room... she even thinks of you when she should be thinking about formulas and theorems, and that's why she's going to fail this stupid logic test.
I know i can't erase the pain that other people put in your life... but i hope that in some indirect way, i can take the place of the people that you don't have in your life anymore. i cant cook like your mom did, or do "dad things" with you like your father... but i can love you...i DO love you... even though i've never really said it out loud.
You are so much to me. Ask anyone in this forum, who has read all the thousands of words i've written about you.

 

[rm-rf]

wow dood this is me when im drunk heh.

some people were meant to be alone.
Some people dont mind it either.

and i live at 517 state school rd. selinsgrove pa 17870.
how odd, I recently moved near that location and know right where it is!!
[ 20 November 2002: Message edited by: THE WOOD ]

 

[vocab]

Damn good writing.

 

[E-girl]

bump

 

[E-girl]

 

[lostNfound]

this was really cool, i forgot i was actually reading it by the time i got to the end.
awesome!

 

[(Wordy)]

Great bump! I love how it's a stream of consciousness that refers to its own form in terms of the 'style of japanese poetry'. And I think it's other great strength as a piece of writing is that it chooses not to exclude minor details, personal details, all the thoughts as they flow. Consciousness gives itself to writing, and the writing (almost) is consciousness.