Six Days.

So I was doing some cleaning, packing, fucking around, et cetera. Last night. Because, if you haven’t already heard me talking about it for FUCKING MONTHS (seriously, you should try paying attention), I’m moving back to Portland. Imminently. So, yes, packing, of course. Anyway, I found some things scribbled in a few nearly-empty notebooks. And I don’t really want to take these books with me because I think that would be bad luck. I mean, these books are both nearly two years old, and barely a word in either? I don’t need that shit in my life.
But there were a few things I wanted to remember, either for posterity purposes or possibly later usage. So, as usual, I will use this blog as a brain-toilet of sorts. Okay? Great.

So. Yes. Just… things. Whatever. You people should not be reading this kind of thing anyway, you know. I’m sure you have better things to do.

Magnetic Poetry from Santa Clara:

the prince would bring an ocean
to warm her where she is cold

so come live under my
gentle blue candy moon

dance teach ask

we can have music
and laugh at time

this white mountain

saw him in a rain cloud
huge as a man get

imagine a silent garden dream

his whisper is like
when light was dark

at times…

and the sky will sing out
i believe in love

sail on – walk with me

pretend like mom


A New Song For Future Dead:

Have you ever smelled the inside of a human body?
Have you ever taste the inside of a human mind?
It’ll make you sick to your stomach I promise.
Been a rough couple weeks, I think it’s time…

Here’s a new song for future babies.
Here’s a new song for future dead.
Here’s a new slow jam for Emily Dickinson.
I think I can see what went on in your head.

And I’m sorry for everything I said,
And I’m sorry for the things I thought I knew,
And I swear I wish it was me instead,
And I’m sorry if I hurt you.


I knew a girl – she sang beautiful words,
She made brothers of birds – now she’s gone.


Okay. That’s all I wanted to put here. I can safely throw these pages away, yes?

Oh yeah, so I was looking around my room. And it seems I’ve lost my birth certificate. Which is kinda sucky, but kinda hilarious. I mean, I’m used to being bad at life, so I don’t really mind anymore. But, so, okay, yeah… if anyone has a State of California birth certificate with my name on it, please give it back at your earliest convenience? Thank you.

Finally, I’m going to record a cover song right quick. After this cigarette maybe. I’m not sure what yet, but I’ll let you know in a moment. Deal?

Yes. I did it, but it came out terribly. And I don’t care. My sneezing episode in the middle of the recording, that almost makes it all worth it. So. Here:

And now I’m going to take a very long shower. Fuck yeah!!


About R. Spacely

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