Friday, December 21, 2007

Where am I?

Holy crap.

My apartment is so clean I hardly recognize it. I've been cleaning for, oh, about 6ish hours and I've got one room left to go... which I can't quite face just yet, hence the blogging.

It's just the bedroom, which is probably the smallest room in the apartment.

But it's knee deep in dirty clothes and all the shite I collected from various other areas of the apartment and chucked haphazardly through the door.


However, though my back is aching, I must congratulate myself because... after living here for four months I am now down to just one box that needs to be unpacked!! And it's mostly stuff that needs to be hung on walls, which I just did *not* have the strength to tackle this evening.

Oh, and that big box under the bed, but who are we kidding? It's probably going to stay just where it is until I move again.

It's weird though... my diningroom/office now feels so... empty. Like I'm sensing an echo from the computer keys, now that all that sound isn't being absorbed by layers and layers of cardboard and newspaper.

Would it be silly to get little console tables to go where all those boxes where, to make the room all cozy again?

Yeah, I thought so.

However, in the spirit of finally unpacking, I thought I'd unpack a bit of my past and share with you a bit of angsty teenage poetry that I uncovered during my endeavor.

I've kept this notebook for nearly a decade now. It's only half full, a few poems and a bunch of doodles of "little man" that say quite a lot about the mood I was in when I drew them. Whenever I read the poems part of me laughs--"Really Teenage-Froggy, must you use the word 'melancholy' in every poem??"... but on the other hand some of it still strikes a chord. There are images and phrases that jump out at me and make me think "damn, that's actually pretty good..." (bleed across the landscape with feathery fire... love that image!) and some that are so familiar that I can no longer tell if it's because I've read them so many times, or if I stole them from somewhere else...

In any case, here is the one of the lot that stood out to me tonight when reading through it again. I will do my best not to make alterations if any parts of it make me wince...


it's a splendor of a fallen world, she said.
when angels kiss the fractured sky
like flies
swarming to an open wound.

we were too careless with our words
and now the trap is set.

it's the mercy of a dying sun, she said.
when moonlight spills on broken glass
a thousand
shattered daydreams.

we were too gentle with the void
and now the anchor falls.

it's the night that's screaming in my blood, she said.
when splintered sunlight
between the bars.

we slept too long in silent bliss
and now the voice has died.

it's the patience of a thousand years, I said.
when I find the strength
to wait
for your return.

you were so long in searching for yourself
that now I'm left to gather up the pieces.


Therapeutic Ramblings said...

I wish I had the energy/time to clean...I mean REALLY clean. I think it will start with donating vast amounts of my wardrobe and chucking a bunch of other stuff.

Princess Pointful said...

Okay, your teenage angst ridden poetry is twelve billion time better than mine. There's some really awesome images in there, and a nice theme holding it all together!

Anonymous said...

Seriously, beautiful. And wouldn't ya know it, B CLEANED tonight. I don't just mean he cleaned, he effing gave us a new apartment. I was so proud of him, and of you too for unpacking after 4 months! ;-) I think the only difference is our apartment is a lot smaller than your's. Hehe, it couldn't feel empty, even when we had nothing in it. ;-)

OC said...

See you were an excellent writer even a decade ago! I'm way too embarrassed to share the writings that I found while unpacking.

And speaking of unpacking, now that you're almost done, want to unpack some of my boxes that have been sitting for three months now? :)

Hope said...

I'm reading backwards and after reading that poem?

Yea. You're definitely a writer. :)