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ateoclock

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From experience [Nov. 16th, 2005|07:46 am]
ateoclock
You write from experience.
This moment in fifty words,
two phrases,
and only one question...why?

As far as we feel apart, I know.
I know every detail of sorrow,
and every taste of tears.

Living is sometimes only breathing.

Just remember that you are your first priority,
and the bullshit?
The bullshit is only enhanced extras on a cinema screen.
They don't know you,
she doesn't know you,
maybe I don't know you~
that is the greatest part of being friends,
it is never ending education of another.

One day, I hope that people can learn from one another,
rather than only listening to fit in another cigarette.
Why go through the pain of living anothers history
when we knew all along how it would conclude?

To the one that cannot stop writing, don't stop.
Be selfish,
scream,
have another stiff drink,
drunk dial a hot chick,
and keep your head high-
this is your life,
your world,
your word,
your expectations and pride.
Be nothing more than what you can be.
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to a five year friend [Oct. 4th, 2005|10:20 am]
ateoclock
This house seems happily empty,
scattered couches and sliding dogs reaching for bones and breath.

I came across truth in my living room.
At what point did our friendship flood into tears, full bottles of Bud light.
Now you drink a new beer, speak different languages, find refuge in places covering the outlines of portage, cuyahoga, and summit counties.

I will live in Lake.

Cutting strings is simple. Braiding is complicated. I's rather be free than be sideswiped by the intricate critique of friendship bracelets.

Today there is a mutual truce, mutual silence, and appreciated exposure by majority vote.
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to the coffee bitch [Sep. 14th, 2005|10:54 am]
ateoclock
There is so much I want to put on this page but I'm being censored. I can't tell the world how much of a fucking loser a certain someone is, and I can't tell that person how fucking stupid she is. If only she knew what was really going on~
then she would be silent.
It amazes me how much people know about me, know so much about the words that supposedly come out of my mouth when they have never spoken to me.
Let me give you a clue bitch, as much as you want to be my friend and hang out on weekends, I can't AND never have been able to stand your ass.
Do me a favor and write about things you know: money, houses, and animals. The next time you think you can judge me or put words into my mouth remember that I could care less about your life and only left that night because I was asked to leave. You can Call Me Crazy, but the truth of all this matter calls for a grand FUCK YOU.

Keep thinking the world revolves around you and that everything your told is truth.
Please continue to share your weak interpretation of my life and lack in all credibility.
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Cleveland Rocks. [Aug. 23rd, 2005|11:40 am]
ateoclock
After clear and careful consideration, (and the threat of losing his teaching license) Anthony has decided to stay in Cleveland with us and not work in San Francisco. He has been followed by a raincloud since his decision to stay at Brooklynn, and I do not mean rain-
it is raining men in Anthony's life. Most of them are pretty damn psyco, but it always feels good to have hoes in different area codes.
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(no subject) [Aug. 8th, 2005|01:52 pm]
ateoclock
Last night I lied for you.

The greatest pendant you could wear around your neck is her heart.
I think you have finally managed to rip it out and find matching earrings.


Now you have something much heavier to hold,
my broken trust between another,
and another,
and another,
and another.
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To love [Aug. 6th, 2005|10:21 pm]
ateoclock
This entry will be a poem,
but nothing will rhyme.
Still swallowed-
the aftermath has become
algebra, maybe calculus.

Beginnings allow us to feel alive,
rushing to the end, well,
that is living.

I learned something yesterday-
quickly forgotten, easily reminded.

I knew it.
Follow instinct.

Needing, wanting,
we are all hungry for something.

I was asked,
"Have you ever felt like you were missing out on something?"
The answer, yes,
but I'm glad I am.
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Truffles wireless network. Patrons only. [Jul. 29th, 2005|07:31 am]
ateoclock
This new laptop-
My fingers flirt with the mouse
sending me to the end of a thought,
the beginning of a question.

I need a cigarette but I broke the habit-
started drinking Red Bull:
looking like a common crack head on Cedar Road,
the corner of Warrensville, the end of Superior.

In the break of a week,
Anthony has lost his life, he says,
I say, he has taken on a third relapse.
Start from day one, his day six.
Our days spent thinking of cigarettes, cleaned ash trays,
healthy dogs.

Conversations at Truffles seem jagged, confused,
eyes linger over tables, into cups, through broken sugar packets.
Anthony is reading the paper, "Survivors of Incest meet Thursdays."

Random suggestions, "movies at Cedar Lee."
Our new lives flash on a screen, you,
looking at me, me, looking at you,
throwing the idea of cigarettes into cool air
under these rainbow lights.
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quick update.... [Jul. 12th, 2005|09:40 am]
ateoclock
I quit smoking.
I bought a new hot car.
I found a great deal on a laptop and wrote a check for it.
I managed to find a great Loreal brand of self tanner and a darker shade of chocolate brown hair dye.
I am staying away from poetics, indulging into paint.

Christy, I hope you have a great birthday next week.

Autumn, I am so happy for your new improved life.

Boyd and Jay, I miss you crazy cats.

Morgan, I hope things start getting better.

Jenny, come and see me soon.

To the rest of you, I miss you all and send much love out to you. I'll start making more phone calls now that I have a house phone (because my cell doesn't work in Cleveland).
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(no subject) [Jun. 22nd, 2005|11:04 am]
ateoclock
Moved in. I love Cleveland Heights. No internet yet.
Finishing my art degree in the fall and spring.
See you Kent hoes soon.

Love you all, peace.
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To my Friend [Jun. 1st, 2005|07:33 am]
ateoclock
Her plane has folded like a card without greeting.
She consistantly flips through its blank pages-
forgetting the beginning, unable to see the end.
Maybe she is topic of conversation,
her name rolls through chilled cubes at the bottom of a drink.
She has found the need of solitude and isolation,
only allowing enough in to be sent further into a dark room,
a shadow.

I want to send her a candle because she is a light.
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