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for the lost black kitten last seen eating a hot dog - If you read, you'll judge [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Jenny

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for the lost black kitten last seen eating a hot dog [Oct. 20th, 2006|12:47 am]
Jenny
[Current Location |my bed]
[mood |calmcalm]
[music |Senses Fail- Every Day Is A Struggle]

This is my favorite poem EVER. I think you should read it. It's somewhat long, but nothing short of amazing. One of my goals in life is to one day drive down to Rancho Palos Verdes & take a picture of his plot site, with the wise words of "Don't Try" as his epitaph. What a great man.


Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you.

When I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.
I had bad blood, a twisted
mind, a pecarious
upbringing.
I was hard as granite, I
leered at the
sun.
I trusted no man and especially no
woman.

I was living a hell in
small rooms, I broke
things, smashed things,
walked through glass,
cursed.
I challenged everything,
was continually being
evicted, jailed, in and
out of fights, in and out
of my mind.
Women were something
to screw and rail
at, I had no male
friends,

I changed jobs and
cities, I hated holidays,
babies, history,
newspapers, museums,
grandmothers,
marriage, movies,
spiders, garbagemen,
english accents, spain,
france, italy, walnuts and
the color orange.
Algebra angered me,
opera sickened me,
Charlie Chaplin was a
fake and flowers were for
pansies.

Peace and happiness to me
were signs of
inferiority,
tenants of the weak
an addled
mind.

But as I went on with
my alley fights,
my suicidal years,
my passage through
any number of
women-it gradually
began to occur to
me that I wasn't different

from the
others, I was the same,

they were all fulsome
with hatred,
glossed over with petty
grievances,
the men I fought in
alleys had hearts of stone.
Everybody was nudging,
inching, cheating for
some insignificant
advantage,
the lie was the
weapon and the
plot was
empty,
darkness was the
dictator.

Cautiously, I allowed
myself to feel good
at times.
I found moments of
peace in cheap
rooms
just staring at the
knobs of some
dresser
or listening to the
rain in the
dark.
The less I needed
the better I
felt.

Maybe the other life had worn me
down.
I no longer found
glamour
in topping somebody
in conversation.
or in mounting the
body of some poor
drunken female
whose life had
slipped away into
sorrow.

I could never accept
life as it was,
I could never gobble
down all its
poisons
but there were parts,
tenous magic parts
open for the
asking.

I re-formulated
I don't know when,
date, time, all
that
but the change
occured.
Something in me
relaxed, smoothed
out.
I no longer had to
prove that i was a
man,

I didn't have to prove
anything.

I began to see things:
coffee cups lined up
behind a counter in a
cafe.
Or a dog walking along
a sidewalk.
Or the way the mouse
on my dresser top
stopped there
with its body,
its ears,
its nose,
it was fixed,
a bit of life
caught within itself
and its eyes looked
at me
and they were
beautiful.
Then- it was
gone.

I began to feel good,
I began to feel good
in the worst situations
and there were plenty
of those.
Like say, the boss
behind his desk,
he is going to have
to fire me.

I've missed too many
days.
He is dressed in a
suit, necktie, glasses,
he says, "I am going
to have to let you go"

"It's all right" I tell
him.

He must do what he
must do, he has a
wife, a house, children.
expenses, most probably
a girlfreind.

I am sorry for him
he is caught.

I walk onto the blazing
sunshine.
The whole day is
mine
temporarily,
anyhow.

(the whole world is at the
throat of the world,
everybody feels angry,
short-changed, cheated,
everybody is despondent,
dissillusioned)

I welcomed shots of
peace, tattered shards of
happiness.

I embraced that stuff
like the hottest number,
like high heels, breasts,
singing, the
works.

(dont get me wrong,
there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism
that overlooks all
basic problems just for
the sake of
itself-
this is a shield and a
sickness.)

The knife got near my
throat again,
I almost turned on the
gas
again
but when the good
moments arrived
again
I didn't fight them off
like an alley
adversary.
I let them take me,
I luxuriated in them,
I bade them welcome
home.
I even looked into
the mirror
once having thought
myself to be
ugly,
I now liked what
I saw, almost
handsome, yes,
a bit ripped and
ragged,
scars, lumps,
odd turns,
but all in all,
not too bad,
almost handsome,
better at least than
some of those movie
star faces
like the cheeks of
a babys
butt.

And finally I discovered
real feelings for
others,
unhearleded,
like lately,
like this morning,
as I was leaving,
for the track,
I saw my wife in bed,
just the
shape of
her head there
(not forgetting
centuries of the living
and the dead and
the dying,
the pyarimids,
Mozart dead
but his music still
there in the
room, weeds growing,
the earth turning,
the toteboard waiting for
me)
I saw the shape of my
wife's head,
she so still,
I ached for her life,
just being there
under the
covers.

I kissed her in the,
forehead,
got down the stairway,
got outside,
got into my marvelous
car,
fixed the seatbelt,
backed out the
driveway.
Feeling warm to
the fingertips,
down to my
foot on the gas
pedal,
I entered the world
once
more,
drove down the
hill
past the houses
full and empty
of
people,
I saw the mailman,
honked,
he waved
back
at me.
linkReply

Comments:
From: kittybomber
2006-10-21 05:23 am (UTC)
damn
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jgv1085
2006-10-21 08:50 am (UTC)
You like?
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: kittybomber
2006-10-21 10:20 pm (UTC)
pocito. it makes me a little bit sad.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jgv1085
2006-10-22 06:01 am (UTC)
Why poquito? It should be bien mucho.

Even though it is pretty pessimistic, for some odd reason it encompasses elements of life that are significant and sometimes irrelevant, that actually encourage and uplift me to live. Maybe I am just weird.

You should read his novels, they are somewhat autobiographical & just show how much a person's life can suck.

Did you tell Nito the word I told you to tell him?

& you should buy this:

http://www.emilystrange.com/beware/buyordie.cfm?i=5012

P.S. You should go with me to the cemetery!
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: kittybomber
2006-10-22 11:13 am (UTC)
which cemetery?

I thought of you when I saw this. LET'S GO FIND US A HOOKER!!!
The last 4 minutes of it is where the good stuff is. The beginning starts kinda slow. But hey, ask and you shall receive!

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jgv1085
2006-10-23 01:51 am (UTC)
You spend too much time on YouTube lady.
He would actually be a cute straight guy.
We don't have to travel to Mississippi to find hookers, you just have to come to my house & we can walk 6 blocks or so down Figueroa at 11pm-ish & BAM! Would we still have to give them some sort of monetary compensation for their services?

I bought a camera, just so I can videotape random shit & become a YouTube celebrity, true story.

"We were like oh my god, oh my god, he has a hooker!"
"I do not smoke pot, do I look like I do? Oh my gosh, I was like freaking out."
lol
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: (Anonymous)
2006-10-23 08:01 pm (UTC)
it's emily too lazy to sign in so yeah...mark et al are thing that I would be an awesome host (like oprah) and so they want to film me as a tv host with my show and put in on youtube...true story. I wonder when this will begin...
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: kittybomber
2006-10-24 09:59 pm (UTC)
let's go to the plot site! Its not too far away. One thing though - when you drive to the other side of "torrance" it gets pretty freaky because you feel soo freaking exposed. Its like the world is on a permanent tilt and it takes a moment to adjust your head to seeing soooooo much ocean blue. Pretty dangerous drive actually. There's a shipwreck and a haunted cove supposedly...
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jgv1085
2006-10-25 01:09 am (UTC)
PERFECT DAY:

Wale & Jenny visiting Charles Bukowski's plot site & taking random pictures at the cemetery. Wale then showing Jenny that place where they sell delicious crepes. Then purchasing some boba or some sweet treat in Westchester.

MAKE IT HAPPEN!
In November though, for sure.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: (Anonymous)
2006-10-23 08:00 pm (UTC)
That was hilarious... a little long though.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: (Anonymous)
2006-10-23 08:00 pm (UTC)
P.S. it's Emily
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
(Deleted comment)
[User Picture]From: jgv1085
2006-10-23 01:52 am (UTC)
I looooove you too, we shall speak soon!
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)