Two Princes

At this point in my silly little life I'd say I spend a good 70% of the time thinking hey i'm alright. Whatever life throws at me, I can take.
Whatever someone needs, I can give.
Those times I've thought, 'god i've gotten so dumb; i don't read anymore, rarely write, make grammatical errors and am too lazy or stupid to fix them or even care...' whatever this is already going somewhere stupid.

The point is, most days I think I'm pretty great. I don't lie, don't cheat, I'm good to people..better than is good for me sometimes, which I'm ok with because every time I get hurt I learn and get stronger. My conscience is clear and it feels good.
i say i hate people sometimes.
i care about people.
if they are shit people i try to understand how they got this way. it may not have been wholly their choice.
if i love or care about you, you never have to worry because i'll do anything to fix your worries or help you with what you need.
i have become fearless. i never lived in fear, but the more i go through the more fearless i become. and i think that's better than living afraid because you know something bad will happen. am i waiting for the other shoe to drop? always. there's always another shoe. and sometimes it rains shoes. to me, this has become all the more reason to live fiercely unafraid.

and laugh at yourself

climb the highest mountain.
see everything.
do everything.
get hurt.
don't hold back.
let em see you. they love you.
they love you!
i never thought i'd be loved in the way that i am.
beloved by almost all.
i'll take almost.

the dream with the guitar with no strings (that's for another day)


anyway that's 70% of the time...maybe. maybe even more. but the remaining percentage...when I have those days where i just hate myself for no good reason but can't shake the feeling? it feels like 100% and makes me question what progress i've really made. but i know i have, so it's ok hahaha. the rationalization for undeserved self-deprecation. hilarious.

rainy memory lane day

MGH over the water
19 20 21 22
so much undone
so much unclear
nothing left unsaid

the cautious girl threw caution to the wind
and it came back, hit her in the face
boomerang
so fast so quick so much
so so much

i learned so much from that girl
thank you, girl, thank you

a present clarity

we both know i'm not what you need and i can't quit you baby

every one of you have a piece of my heart; some have bigger pieces than others, but those pieces have shaped a beautiful loving heart that can never stop giving. I don't care if I drop dead from a heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack, it will have all been worth it. I've loved some with half a heart, some with a broken heart, others fiercely and intensely with the whole damn thing. To the last ones, you know who you are because I begged and pleaded and cried and cried. It took me years to be at peace over some of those loves, but you still have some of me. always will.

this may seem unrelated and it may be! at least partially.
i tend to think i am boring. lazy. that i let myself miss out on things. then i look at others. then i look inside myself and don't think that anymore. we all prioritize and do what is important to us, and i'm no exception. i don't regret the life i've lived, and i wouldn't have it any other way. sometimes it takes an outside perspective - someone saying 'you don't give yourself enough credit' 'i wish i had your life' 'i wish i could do what you do' 'look at what you've accomplished.' I brush these comments off regularly, but there are days like this one where i appreciate the sentiment of each of those statements, and THANK YOU to those of you who have taken the time to appreciate me enough to say them.

i am not outwardly intense, but inside i'm a goddamn hurricane. i've used this force for good - only wished bad on one person my whole life, and i know he'll never get his. everyone else who's told me 'no,' who's broken my heart, who's wished me ill, who's treated me badly - i may not wish you the best, but i want nothing bad for anyone. that first and only time i wished bad on someone was so weird for me because as much as i pushed away my slightly Catholic upbringing, there are some things that are hard to shake. even now, so far removed from my childhood, i feel it so wrong to wish bad things on anyone, no matter how shitty they are to you, no matter how evil they are.
my conscience is clear.

and clarity is where i live now.

hello blogspot my old friend

i've come to say i'm here again
and for how long i dooon't know
and why i write this i dooon't know

and the sign flashed out its warning

ok that's from the real song and i'm no Paul Simon and you are no Lester Bangs, so let's get on with it.

I've started writing again; one I'd like to finish but I'm afraid of it because I started it as a different person - as a girl really and I am just not her anymore. She can be accessed though; I just think it will take years off my life to go back in time like that, you know? Probably not because that probably doesn't make sense.
ahhhhhhh but it does

The other one I have to start and finish and no excuses that's it amanda.
My birthday, which was a couple weeks ago, marked 10 years that I've lived in New York. I signed my first lease in Bay Ridge, 2009. God 2009, you were awful. And I was awful in 2009. It's when I began to be awful. Awful in a different way than I had been. But it was that ugliness that grew a beauty within, and for that I treasure every goddamn awful moment. Thank you awful new york thank you awful hard living.

You've made me nearly indestructible and I can't hate you for that, Heat and Hot Water Included.

Is This It

so i'm stuck at home because this guy jumped off a building and his blood that ran with HIV and the hepatitis alphabet got on my face and in my mouth. The cocktail isn't as bad as it used to be, people keep telling me. I've had no side effects really, so basically I just don't have to go to work until after the 30th when I go back to the Department doctor.

The whole story is quite odd.

He was 65 - jumped from the 4th floor of a nursing home.

I could describe it further, but I'll save that for not the Internet. Besides, I think the basics say a lot on their own. Since I know no more, all that's left is in the imagination. How did he break the window? What did it look like? Were other people in the room? What happened in the 15 minutes before? Why? Why did he decide to jump? How many friends and family did he leave behind? Did they know this was a possibility?

These are things I'll never know, and with time what I have imagined will become increasingly less clear. Like any death, most of its details become lost and only the fact itself remains. And isn't this for the best? The details are part of dying, but are so unromantic in reality. They are raw and off-putting and sometimes shocking. This is for the best.

This isn't even what I intended to write about, but it's what happened.

walking is still honest

I want you to know my creative mind
I want to speak to you in the tongues that reach me
I would love for you to understand, but have no romantic expectations
I want you to see beauty, hear it
the way I do
but not in my way
i want you to experience beauty
in your way
i just want you to feel that

is it fog or is it rain or mist
how could the bronx be so still
i am the only movement
walking up the middle of Decatur
cone shaped meta-prisms below street lamps
mark the length of the street
there is no one
from where it begins to where it ends
i'm just going to by ice cream
but now i want to see where it ends

and so i walk

Letters to the Universe

They had nothing for me to do at work last night, so I laid on the futon in the girl's locker room and fell asleep. Once asleep, I began to dream.




I dreamt it was you and me and old friends and new lovers
it was you and me:
old friends, no longer lovers.
and it was so nice
it was oh so nice.
to see that elusive smile again
to be together in front of everyone, feel not devious,
not subversive
just happy.
everyone happy.
what a dream that would be.