the skies are red, the skies are sober

marykristan@gmail.com — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 00:35:57 GMT

soo dead
but dead things dont stop shifting and morphing
so any way here it is- finally settling and simultaneously raining with a waning moon hiding tonight,
blood relative stress, and past unnamed connections dropping in are a jolt but left behind are some artifacts and kombucha tea brewing with a flowered patterned design from my ghost like brush with a small mountain town and members of that old-named village were staying below my lineage.
left me a drawing of an angel, another question like the drawing hanging in my closet. first night i grabbed a handful of photos from a wooden chest- no premeditation, no looking, and even after hesitation i removed packets of old photos, and they were all of the person sitting in my kitchen after countless months of it settling like the ocean. in and out with different frequencies. i'm patient and the psychic egg theme and the back alley ways :: here catch, no more living solo varying numbers of roommates ... an accordian player my landlord gave a happy nod too and the whistler invisible too many people move too close but i still smile and it slowly comes together and i say yessss and yeah no more wasting it on that but i miss the stretching fields opposite of west
still still it sucks it rules i see magicians all the time and the wind pipe player sells newspapers in a brown painted shack always half smiling or some other face wearing player passes by i gave the guy the quarter without the d and if you pleaseeeeee dont say cheese! ash galaxies and the cosmo kramer followings...

walking up together in apart meants meant to be apart but we're positive and negative magnets;

me being simultaneously stoked & sleepy, photo by sveta walk accompanied by michele

,inversely

always have our back to their reality... but seeing it all ways

i've been on a photo break for too long,
and this photo is in memory of the hawk i took down,

one or know one

marykristan@gmail.com — Mon, 04 May 2009 17:25:15 GMT

weekend waves it's too fast to explain the way time slows down in every frame and all this residue, if i could explain i..........................

marykristan@gmail.com — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 22:27:18 GMT

fuck landlords
open doors rainy daze policy
stairs climb glass hall ways
weigh it out don't wait it out
sandwiched between layers and clouds
concrete breathing swallowing ink
forests unfold as sound soaking sponges
the double days together unfold into music
unfold fold andddd almost conclude

marykristan@gmail.com — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 06:44:35 GMT

in the park together, burning our lungs
at school, burning time and money, maybe making something
people talk, mouths move, words fall out, i kick them around
dirt & the ground, sunlight & clouds, a friend from my hometown "dont have to be sad all the time"
avoid the landlord, avoid the bank, avoid the police.....i finally met a nice one, we talked about the neccesity of a paradigm shift.... who knows
procrastinatiing forever... this summer, east to west, time to disappear

marykristan@gmail.com — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 00:47:18 GMT

marykristan@gmail.com — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 00:06:47 GMT

holy shit!

you know the world doesnt owe you this

marykristan@gmail.com — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 23:54:57 GMT

going to go to guitar ce nter to play the banjo. there s nothing else but the cold outside and my slowly warping hands, heavy air around here, you know the word for this

marykristan@gmail.com — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 13:38:02 GMT

love it all. head south tonight.

marykristan@gmail.com — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 04:02:41 GMT

too many of our pictures are taken through fences
throwit al l out
and open the window

modset mouse lyrics

marykristan@gmail.com — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 17:45:56 GMT

you will come down soon too
you will come down too soon
soon enough you will come down come down
i had a drink the other day opinions were like kittens i was giving them away
i had a lot to say and i said
you will come down soon too
you will come down too soon
you will come down soon too
soon enough you will come down come down
youll come down come down

breathe in the water when we can

marykristan@gmail.com — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 03:48:19 GMT

new england

rains for days

then shines

go to the ghosts

fadeout

falter

glow

shit shot down so you talk talk for it

marykristan@gmail.com — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 04:21:57 GMT

wake up early &ride bikes through sleepysuburbia

we met a guy who told us about something that happend "before after christmas" (next to the breakingbuilding filled with shoes)

.
ya we're all ghosts!

marykristan@gmail.com — Wed, 12 Dec 2007 04:15:10 GMT

300/30=100
30 miles an hour, it would take 100 hours to get to the coast...............\
from montana to the pacific.
landlocked in chicago.

verbal assault
salt
a grain
started to rain
pounded down
swish swoosh
slap the street
purple bags
not a black eye
drained

scene outside
window pane
crack the glass
broke the skin
something sometime
whatever wherever
the five to fifteen
taking the train down the line

vocabulary confined
words are constrained
attempts to break up
already dissolved
broken down
fuck

faltering thoughts
way too close
back off
sitting on white
thinking about
moving closer
moved as far
as possible
wonder what?
28,000 fucking far
you calculated it
denied it
who did it?
the other one did
the convincing.

measuring the distance
between dawn
dusting ashes
burned paper down
feel the fire
fingertips
that traced a spine
same person stole it
stared at closed eyes
kissed them in sleep
woke up to them staring
talked into believing

conceiving some dreams
when sleeping besides
whispering the calm
that came
after hands stumbled
to find something
to grasp
raspy breath

consistently intangible
put a label on something
in the stages of sprouting
grew so fast
chopped it down
severed it's roots
limbs tangled into themselves

twitching to sleep
mumble words
under the sheets
not even 1/2 awake
unless sleeping
never existed

wakeupwakeupwakeup
knocked down my guard
built it around you
the sides intertwined
stretched across states
hung my head as i walked around
after you knocked me the fuck down

and it's something like
i don't even care
there are things
that are webbing
all around here
i'm down
it's just
that pull
of that tug
in my brain
that you left
without
even
explaining.
it's cool.
i'm happy.
thanks.

marykristan@gmail.com — Sun, 14 Dec 2003 22:38:54 GMT

this shit's friends only.
comment or something, i guess?
SWEET.