Thursday, February 5, 2009


80 miles per hour, now,
hurtling towards this
inevitable goal,
nineteen and un-
in naivete and
veiled in youth, the
promise of new life
and wine at sunset,
alone together,
as it always was.
a fleeting this,
you and i,
on trials
every once and
awhile, and
over years
hardened with age,
cracked with doubt,
and laden with
contempt of the past,
the 80 miles per hour
fell to 40,
which fell to 23,
which fell off the radar
your skeleton sits
collecting dust behind
a big lock and
tired hands, and
there's no more
miles to drive...
nineteen has long
since slipped
us by.

a picture from the past. seeing crazy as it was, wondering how it is now. i know some things are better left for dead, but how do you know?
people asked me how i knew i wanted to be a dancer. and i tell them, "i just knew. i have always just known." and that's that. i can't pinpoint an exact date where i fell in love with ballet, or movement in general. it was something i have always just been sure of.
with people, now that's where things get tricky. cause that phrase has not worked for me with relationships. i've tried it. but maybe i don't know just yet. i mean, maybe i knew when i was young, and then i have to find out about it as i get older. can you know something for sure at one point in your life, then find out you really didn't know, only to come to the conclusion that maybe you did know all along?
this is too heavy for a thursday afternoon. and after all, i know i'm not the best philosopher in the world. that i can be sure of. it hurts my head too much to think of this shit.


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