The Luxurious Blue Notebook, Part 2

Cry on my shoulder.

This above all: to thine own self be true.

I just want something I can never have.

Fantasies are opiate of the imaginative.

What image best describes self-involved bleak despair?
What image best describes self-involved bleak despair?

Far away.

Then, it was over.

The secret of life, therefore, is this: when faced with the truth, accept it.

Right now I’ve got fear, pain, and boredom. These are good ones, because they can get so real, so sharp, so clear. ~Journal, July 1985

This mortal pain.

I have no choice.

Every feeling you have is really about yourself.

“You’re good company.” ~M

If you can’t stand the headaches, get out of your head.

Who are you? Actually, I already know, so the question becomes: do you know who you are? Is that an imperative?

I strive for order. I yearn for chaos.

I am not the body you see before you, nor am I the soul inside me. I am all the things I’ve said and done, and all the things I failed to say and do.

Revenge can only make us weak.

And why did you leave at all?

Don’t confuse comfort with happiness.

Don’t resist change. It’s the only thing you’ll always have.

And the pain never dims.

“Nuclear war would have a ‘purifying’ effect on the world.” ~Negative Guy

I deserve to be happy.

Confess that I’m weak. The pain of confession. The starvation of weakness.

Do you ever miss me?

Rainbow of darkness.

Your drama is so incomplete, so infantile. Even if it was complete, it’s still drama.

If you believe the second coming of Christ is imminent, why are you saving for your kids’ college?

I leaned my head on the hard wood, closed my eyes and let the music penetrate my most subtle defenses.

The people are a mess, but the dog is straight up.
The people are a mess, but the dog is straight up.

“This is the price you pay for being a superior person.” ~V to my sister

How would I have loved her? I ask as a surrogate for ever loving again.

Time does fly.

I led her by the hand through her apology.

My hello is goodbye.

“Military whiskey of the house.” ~Dream fragment

I shiver to think how I was violated.

“Shadows wash the room.” ~S&G lyric

Stunted sexuality = repressed creativity.

Have the strength to be happy.

Without a basic understanding of beauty, one can never be happy.

I am expected, but not awaited.

I’d rather be disillusioned than live with my illusions.

“Overall, humanity is a community of suffering.” ~The Modehrus

All I see is your face, and I’ll see your face again.

I can write anything I want as long as I unwrite it.
I can write anything I want as long as I unwrite it.

I’m not afraid.

I’m living at the edge of the world.

The music of love doesn’t play in my ears.

We rise to the levels of strength and bravery that our lives demand.

Part of me waits.

Your life is completely different than mine by virtue of seeing your face in the mirror instead of mine.

Instead of I should, I will.

In the midst of rain, I see ghosts.

All’s fear in love and war.

If you don’t understand freedom, you don’t need it.

Love hasn’t served me especially well, but thought always has.

If only you could have known me when this was my room.
If only you could have known me when this was my room.

Walking across a big, dark room in a house you don’t know, are you scared? Sure you are. My life is walking across that room.

How strong am I?

What you are thinking is what you are becoming.

Order is chaos in a tuxedo.

Time can only take you down the road so far, and then there’s a fork.

It’s such a bitter lie.

I you don’t try to drag me down to your level, I promise not to try to drag you up to mine.

This is my confession.

My mind is made up with hospital corners.

Poetry doesn’t come to me. I come to it.

The beauty of enough is that it’s never enough.

I have blurred visions. Blurred by what? The telephone line. Honesty. Your presence. The realness. History. The smell of winter. Ghosts. The sky on fire. Silence.

There’s nothing “brutal” about honesty.

I’ll be remembered by everyone who matters.

I find it too much … me.

Some things you never get over, and love takes even longer than that.

Swimming in an ocean of hurt.

If who you are is pain, then feeling it with all your heart.

My life is a poem about longing.

The once bright arc between us is, tonight, a silence.

Ignorance is abyss.

Addiction is not disease. Addiction is weakness choice. My addiction, my weakness, my impotence.

I am admired, but not desired.

I don’t need anyone when I’m lonely. They don’t help, anyway.

So much pain. So little time.

I’m nobody you want to know.
I’m a nobody you want to know.

The ring of truth is always there to be heard.

I am revealed.

What kind of ego do I have?
What kind of ego do I have?
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1 Comment

  1. I could say I enjoy these but I’d rather quote a hero who said it better.

    “Thar’s gold in this mountain! Rich pure yellow gold.”
    – Yukon Cornelius, the “greatest prospector of the North”

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