I'm better than apple jacks

First and now :
the air is broke or maybe it isn't. it could be but maybe it's just so hot outside that it doesn't cool down enough. it's no hotel room we are staying in. maybe things don't work that way when it's 100 degree's in the shade. who used to say that? 100 in the shade. who'd say something like that let alone write it?. Things aren't working right.

My house and in it: has my girl and pets and t.v. sets, radios, a refrigerator and other things that break.

we all break.

2nd and then:

I remember I waited all summer for school to start. Fucking high-school and all the shit that goes with it. Girls with tits, for one. Girls with tits for another. But mostly I'd been thinking of this girl that i saw last year. I didn't have the stomach to even say hi to her in the hallway. She had cool new wave hair and I thought that made her somehow off limits to me. She was like Molly Ringwald and I was like farmer Ted. Except not as funny. I never fell into hilarious hi-jinx or built an obscenely beautiful woman in my basement either. No weird science projects, no writing about detentions after school. The coolest thing about me was that I had pair of checkered Vans like Spicoli in Fast Times. Speaking of which, Phoebe Cates......OMG.

The first day of school I am looking all over for her. By 5th hour the news had spread of a girl
who was killed over summer break in a car accident. Yes, you guessed it. Her. My new-wave girl. Even though i never knew her, the news it hit me hard. I mean I had fantasized about this pretend meeting and falling in love for over two months. I was devastated.

At home, I locked my bedroom door , put on a Cure record and laid on top of my bed staring at the ceiling fan spinning for what seemed like hours. I took out my note book and wrote about how shitty my life was. What girl would fall for someone as fucked up and ugly as me? and why was it that every time i have something good does it always get taken from me ??. never mind that I never had her to begin with. just.... you know what i mean.
Then I went and cut her picture out of my 8Th grade year book and taped it to my notebook. next to it I wrote down: Never Was. Should have Been. Will Be Again. Rest in Peace. On the 2nd day of school I wore black and every day after.

lastly: (back to present)
i cut the lawn and after I try to cool down by going inside the house. i don't think the air is working. maybe it is but it's so hot it takes all day to cool off. I'm afraid of the heat to hot and the cool to cold.
i like it somewhere in between here and there.
i sit by the pool and watch the automatic cleaner climb the steps and walls and back. over again.
It's strange that i know this.

That in between here and there is you.

-

I see myself as a shiny and unique snow flake

i see myself as an airline pilot or court reporter, or run- away husband.
A disney world ride operator, ice-cream scooper, candy maker, nothing where I would have to smoke cigarettes, or shoot up drugs or wear a beater up tank-top outside my trailer in the summer sun.

you know it would be some kind of work where I look outside a large french window into puffy white clouds or grey stormy skies. maybe snow, maybe even winter. As long as it's good , as long as you're good to me. I'll be good to you. I think I'm going to keep my promises. I see myself, and I never thought I'd write so much about this one thing. but, you know there's always just this one thing.
I saw myself wearing a gun, but it's to late for that. the midnight western shows are over.
I saw myself making music, making porno love, making monster movies, making waves, crashing cars and getting scars with you.

I see myself riding in your car. Don't tell me it doesn't smell like ashtray and air freshener.
Don't tell me I can do anything I want to if i set my mind to it. That it's not to late. It's far to late. But there are other things i can do, just as important. I can start by telling the truth. No. not that the first time I went down on a girl, i vomited. that wasn't me, that was my friend and he told me he knew then, he was gay for sure.
That would do it! i said. so, is that why you always invited me over to go swimming in your pool?
No, the truth. Like I always thought when I ran out of things to say, I,d just go and make something up. But really, it's when I end up telling the truth.

I saw myself opening up letters and packages from young girls. stationary paper that smelled like bubble-gum and citrus. emails with offers of marriage with attached .jpg's further proof that
"I'm awesome, you're awesome, I know we would just get along "
or I saw myself decorating cakes,using magic-markers, making pizzas, police sniper, camera-guy, monk, dog-groomer, tire-changer, pumpkin carver, emt, x-ray tech, wine maker, travel agent, motel desk clerk, ..

All the promise was there in 3rd grade, where I, huffing elmer's glue and cutting and pasting bra ads from magazines to construction paper. An early band poster of sorts. bras and panties, nylons, and striped socks arranged like planets around the words WRETCHED HIVE. taken from Star Wars. the name of my imaginary band. A project that only warranted me a purple star (3 below a gold) from the narrow-minded, but busty, Mrs. todd.

photo credits:
riotstar

and the good days are like presents .........

1. BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR:
kids form in groups. cliques, scenes, and perversions. The school patio littered with scabs and scars and walking S.T.D's. smokers smoke and whores whore. his father drinks - her father touches her at night. and i can't complain to much. semi-charmed, semi-hard, semi-smart. what I do is watch. what i do is write. broken streams of thought. a rainbow that isn't quite formed. the pre-cum dripping from cock that gets her pregnant. spider webs.
hot dogs and tater tots is what is served at lunch today. All the white kids drink chocolate milk and all the black kids drink white. Has anyone else but me noticed this?
I am more whore than punk rock, more glam than indie, more geek than jock, more dick than kind, more kind than nice, more pretty than handsome, more or less I am not noticed.
To be a senior is to be that much closer to escape. this asylum, this prison. It's like home. It is home, we all want to leave, and we never want back in.
things will be different out there, things will be much better. this is what we wish for. Be careful what you wish for.

2. YES, I COULD
if someone had a knife or a gun or the metal detectors malfunctioned. If that loner kids back-pack were to be filled with C4, if he could pass fucking chemistry. instead dumb mother- fucker talks like he is a black rap star - urban ghetto set in this upper middle class no-where near a real city town. He says "yo yo yo".. calling to his homey's. No-one turns around.
I'd welcome chaos and destruction. something anything.
the zombies, the sheep, flesh on bones, hormones, kids dying to fuck and fight and be free but having no clue how. pent up, penthouse, spread, spread disease, hate, rumours...eating, laughing, faking, lying, grabbing each others flat asses.
That girl over there knows of bands you've never heard of. to skinny with stars on her wrist, wasting away with her face in a magazine. She knows a drummer in a band. She's fucked a drummer and I've fucked her. So I have fucked a drummer. Big deal.
have you googled her, have you seen her myspace?, have you gone over to her house on Friday nights? I have. have you seen my t-shirt over there? can you return my books, can you return my name, can we take it all back. can i teach you to hurt again. be good again.
Oh wait, it wasn't her. I say "fuck it" forgetting to use my inside voice. The girl looks up. I am certain I just as easily could fall in love with her. I tip my pen toward her and she glares at me. Yes. I could.

3. I'LL LET YOU READ ME
look- this kid just walked by me and called me a bad-name, I stare back at him shooting ninja stars into every part of his body. i understand his mother must love him. he may go off to fight in a bloody war for our country. be a hero of sorts. he may just as easily stay at home lying on a couch collecting disability checks from a fraudulent compensation claim. All in all, he is no better or worse than me, I am no better or worse than him. but there is only *one* of me. Of this I am certain. I smile to myself at this little *matter of factual* - and what's more... I smell to fucking good today. mmmmmm. The thing is this: I love a little to hard, and am a bit to crazy for most people to fuck with. I'll let you read me a like book of fiction.

4. LOOK HOW YOU'VE WASTED YOUR TIME ON ME
my pen runs out of ink. I had a thought. now it's slipped away. has that ever happen to you?. The part where you look around and wonder how you got to this point. this moment. you try to figure out was it better a few hours ago, a few days, months, years. I am pretty content. I'd rather be dead than content. they quite possibly could be one in the same = equal. equal reminds me of math, reminds me there is only a few more months left at school, reminds me of prom dates, and all these stupid fuckers like me, trying to fit in. I realize i don't hate anyone and i hate that. I'm still mean but I feel so sorry for everyone around here, I just wish them happiness. No I am a piece of shit, I wish myself luck and charm and grace. I rather don't care what happens to the rest of them. Except maybe her.
Another glare, another day in ruins. Loving everyone, writing it down so that i won't forget, but I will. I do. Whoever finds this, don't waste your time. throw it out before you get to this point. Oh fuck. To late. You loser.