Semiotic Ghost

I’ve been busy looking up random people’s addresses in the phone book and sending them apology letters.

Sorry.

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My neighbor’s electric bill ended up in my mail by mistake. I was going to personally return it to her, use it as an excuse to start a conversation.

But, now she just got home at 3 in the morning and I hear a guy’s voice. Whore. Let me know how those late fees feel.

Filed under: Fulminations, Neighbor, Transmissions
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No one has noticed at work. Nobody knows even though it’s been happening for months. It hasn’t influenced my walk or my demeanor, my clothes or my hair. I would have told you about it sooner, but you haven’t been around. No one has been around.

It started as an accident at first. I woke up and realized what had happened. Still, I didn’t give it much thought. Each time it happened I had a different excuse: drinking too much, working too much, it’s easier and more convenient. You always told me that I could rationalize anything.

Now I find myself hiding it, shoving the evidence into the closet before people come over. It started when you left. Yes, I blamed it on that, too. I think it’s because you were still in there somewhere. Pieces of you were everywhere, but the epicenter was there– Every night in the darkness and the quiet. All the reminders of you forming together, like some kind of memory Voltron, defender of loneliness.

I’m telling you all of this now, because I haven’t told anyone else.

No. I’m telling you, because I know you won’t listen and I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to stop sleeping on the couch.

Anyway, hope you’re doing well.

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When you’re little you’re afraid of the monsters under your bed. When you get older you have to fear the monsters in your bed.

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My political views. The remix.

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you were staring at your screen so intensley, through it, through my screen. Through my screen and in to me. Laser beams coming out of your eyes. Burning  me, but I’m staring intentsley, too. And, I push them back with my own laser beams. Red and blue colliding together inbetween us. I couldn’t do it anymore. I just had to look (up).

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It was days ago.
I smell her on me. Still.
She’s inside of me now,
Wafting out while I try to bury her scent under tobacco and incense.

I’m talking to my plant with my hands buried in the soil. We’re looking out the window together. We’re thirsty.

Moistened, a fine film of mold starts to grow over us. She wants to see me.

I want to breath in the earth. The record needs to be changed, but I’m rooted here. I ask the ficus to pick something nice out—

To wear to tomorrow’s party. Shhh… don’t wake the neighbors. We’re all smaller than our mothers. The ashtray is full. I’m going to bed. You can stay wherever you want. This ground doesn’t belong to me.

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You don’t have to worry about what time it is when you can’t see the clock behind the pile of dirty dishes, but you might have to worry about the pile of dirty dishes. But, this worry over the dishes could be misconstrued as a concern for what time it is. So, maybe it’s best to not mention the time and worry about the dishes, but then you’d see the clock and worry about the time. Now, you’re worrying about both. You’re worried about what people think you’re worried about. Maybe it’s best not to worry about either. Maybe you should be worried that you just had this conversation with yourself.

Filed under: Patterns, Transmissions
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Alright. I’m back. That whole sleep thing is harder than it looks. I’ve now resorted to listening to the Cocteau Twins. I haven’t listened to this album in a very long time and it’s bringing back memories. Fond, but sad memories. I’m hoping that sleep is associated with some of those memories.

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At first I shrugged off Twitter, thinking it was some ridiculous distraction for people too simple-minded to write/maintain a blog. Well, given my neglect of my own public space, I joined Twitter. Now it’s down for maintenance and I find myself missing it. Pathetic. A lesson in being opinionated maybe. I think I’ll always be caustic about something though…

Anyway, here is what I wanted to post to Twitter (more verbose and “bloggy” though, of course):

I just got out of the new batman movie, Dark Knight. Holy crap! Heath Ledger as the Joker was amazing. He made the entire movie. Not that this should surprise anyone.

Now I’m sitting at home, listening to Abbey Road, and trying to coax myself to fall asleep. I think that if I walk away from the internet, it will help. So, farewell for now…

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