tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761Wed, 30 Dec 2009 23:08:41 +0000A delightfully dark blend of the facts and the fictions of what is left of a life in flux.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/bree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)Blogger166125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-2411691872623665699Wed, 30 Dec 2009 22:54:00 +00002009-12-30T15:08:41.709-08:00It felt as though the day was sitting with its full weight on my chest. Making every movement and breath a struggle. The sun was shining harshly into my skull. I wanted to enjoy it, but I wasn't up for it. All the memories of times together, and times apart, descended at once; filling my head beyond it's brim.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/12/sadness-beyond-tears.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8122239659017978306Sat, 28 Nov 2009 19:52:00 +00002009-11-28T11:55:02.140-08:00With every mile I got away from the town that housed my demise; my heart rate slowed, my breathing mellowed, my fingers loosened on the wheel, and the music began to penetrate my ears and thoughts again. By mile 20 of my escape, I began to feel real again.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/11/todays-departure.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-1445273309721576458Sat, 21 Nov 2009 05:50:00 +00002009-11-20T21:54:05.209-08:00Components: a painting by my dear friend Marissa, a page of how to build a character in fiction, a list of names that I made when I wrote the first short story I was not ashamed of, my favorite picture of Elton John that I printed out 5 years ago, and have put on the wall in every new place I've moved, a picture of Lincoln from Marika and her son duct taped below the most recent picture of the http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/11/wall-that-sees-what-i-write.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8192206032599046860Sat, 21 Nov 2009 02:00:00 +00002009-11-20T18:51:19.545-08:00He laid there mothbreathing next me. My alarm, set for 5:00 am had yet to sound, but I was, emphatically, awake and staring at his gaping maw. The sound from my childhood of my aunt saying "Close your mouth, or something will get in, or come out, that you don't want." was playing on loop in my mind. I had turned the light stand light on to get a better view, it seemed, of the face that I woke to http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-contempt-creeps-in.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-4877955598801094246Sat, 07 Nov 2009 23:25:00 +00002009-11-07T15:28:46.385-08:00The time wasted was insignificant when put against the unreckonable amount of energy wasted, and the misery it created. My sub conscience had even joined in the assault. My dreams were plagued with memory and fantasy of him. I would wake sure that it had happened; then find that it hadn't. A cruel joke had been played. Then I would wonder if he was aware of what transpired in my twilight sub http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/11/cripple-creek-ferry.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-641584017828404226Mon, 19 Oct 2009 04:27:00 +00002009-10-18T23:31:37.223-07:00Fall is when we fell, apart. The season held a lot of me. The turning of the leaves like the change of heart. Leaving naked trees like my soul laid bare, and everything that we had grown being stripped away. Piece by piece. leaf by leaf. I have re-built some, and fertilized my newly laid soil in preparation for more growth. Still, I can't help but let the memories of the barren times fill the http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/10/ringing-all-bells.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-7665201669188803567Wed, 14 Oct 2009 23:58:00 +00002009-10-14T17:04:36.746-07:00The eyes were still his, but the light behind them had gone out. I didn't know if I could replace the bulb, or how. He spoke in sickening circles and dialects that he absorbed from t.v., movies, and whatever was left of his imagination. I didn't know how long I could continue to do it alone. I also couldn't fathom how anyone else ever had. There was something more than wrong with being alone in http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/10/boy-with-thorn-in-his-side.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-5047804597353210562Wed, 14 Oct 2009 23:44:00 +00002009-10-14T16:47:19.150-07:00At times even hearing your own name can make no sense.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/10/at-times-even-hearing-your-own-name-can.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-3144011089145362957Fri, 04 Sep 2009 03:23:00 +00002009-09-03T20:23:18.370-07:00 http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/09/indeed.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-3668989210832448961Mon, 13 Jul 2009 21:04:00 +00002009-07-13T14:29:24.244-07:00I have never really taken much interest in sports. I've even had a hard time respecting that they exist and people put so much stock in them. The last few years I've starting peaking around at them, again. Giving things a try, an'that. I've learned these things: I like basketball. I like soccer. I like Tennis. And I like the food at baseball games. I also enjoy the hell out of watching Oliver tryhttp://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/07/okay-okay-i-get-it-sort-of.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8601506116280641416Mon, 13 Jul 2009 01:10:00 +00002009-07-12T19:03:25.710-07:00I shuffled around the living room. Remembering a bulk of every minute from the last four days. I always made myself put the pieces of him away. Into closets, bins, onto shelves, but this time I was putting them in boxes. I left the tops open. I couldn't shake the feeling that they were breathing.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/07/putting-it-all-away.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-5838202833113184383Sat, 11 Jul 2009 18:58:00 +00002009-07-11T12:23:34.212-07:00He had at least always been sweet and dear, to me. Even when he couldn't manage it for anyone else. Even through the times of absolute dispair that he had, unfortunately, experienced that took him to the edge of his will, I remained in his favor. This was the first time when he was cold, and even mean to me. I had to internalize all of the feeligs this ripped into me. I knew I was doing the righthttp://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/07/space-and-change.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-3694577565159996971Thu, 09 Jul 2009 21:49:00 +00002009-07-09T15:12:57.810-07:00To celebrate Independence day, or "Independins" day which is what Oliver wished someone via text message-- Yes, he text messages- a lot (ulot), we joined a gaggle of friends and strangers in Lynwood who were celebrating America, sort of, but mostly they were convening for my dear Tim's birthday. Tim being my mainest gay and dearest friend and also Oliver's big gay uncle buying his way into O's http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/07/boom-boom-b-awwww.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-5334701837476393089Tue, 07 Jul 2009 16:45:00 +00002009-07-07T10:08:27.746-07:00I'm haunted by his ghost even when he is in the flesh before me. I put my arms around him and he is stiff. I can't comfort or take the pain away. I try to look in his eyes and he won't focus on mine. I try to hear him speak and his voice is wrong, and cold. I can't shake the gripping fear that I am losing him which smashes into the fact that that is not an option, for me. Knowing the source, or http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/07/sons-of-silent-age.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-5924235793877593554Tue, 07 Jul 2009 07:58:00 +00002009-07-07T09:40:01.030-07:00--The strife and pain that happens, and continues to happen, to you [me] is either a lie or beyond my scope of care, right now.-- This idea, followed close behind, by a doctor offering bad news (again) closing with a non-reverent "You saw the new penny, right? Got one today." http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/07/optimists-descent-elsewhere.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-1447389620772444155Sat, 20 Jun 2009 20:51:00 +00002009-06-20T13:57:35.571-07:00Reading about the fictional desperation of others dulled the sting of mine. Babies dying, whores hooking, deranged druggies making their way to another shore of their mind-- all this would fill the minutes of my nights with a, sort of, comfort. The idea being that if I could keep on I eventually would survive and be. Be present. Be important. Not defined by the past and what happened, but rather,http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/06/not-moving-on-but-still-moving-up.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-7801602220050317058Tue, 05 May 2009 10:15:00 +00002009-05-05T03:15:41.647-07:00Does it count as a stain if it never dries? http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/05/pillows.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8183393916644541746Wed, 01 Apr 2009 03:42:00 +00002009-03-31T21:00:53.602-07:00Seeing the images sharing, for the first time, a single screen was altering, to say the least. They could no longer be separated by date, or idea. They were part of a whole. They needed to be dealt with as such. Maybe this notion had been the right one for some time, but I was just now seeing it.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/03/785.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-3786049443582368194Fri, 13 Mar 2009 02:00:00 +00002009-03-12T19:00:37.451-07:00A sobering shower to wash away the emotional drunk sickness of the moment. That was built of many other moments passed. http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/03/sobering-shower-to-wash-away-emotional.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-822658202050079049Mon, 02 Mar 2009 04:25:00 +00002009-03-01T20:45:19.115-08:00He would have been one of the following:Charles (Nixed because Chuck is unforgivable)Agnus (Nixed because everyone else on the planet sucks.)Kingsley (Front runner, nixed because, I guess, It wasn't completely my decision.)TaviLincoln HarryGusAdisonOakesPhilipRoth (Shut up, I was wicked hormonal)ReeveLeonard (NOT Leo)AndyDickens (I couldn't do it to him: Dickie)This was the short list. You don't http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-he-werent-oliver.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-5202389326002660154Mon, 02 Mar 2009 00:52:00 +00002009-03-01T18:39:16.938-08:00Contents (Pictured):Apple SauceMayo (light)Rice (jasmine)V8Pickled AsparagusPicklesOrange TeaRooster SauceTwo types of Balogna. TWO!Two types of cheddarHalf an appleLeftover baconBreadHummusWeird German wineEggsNot Pictured:3 types of mustard2 lbs of butterBlackberry JamStraws (I like them cold)For your information.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-refrigerator.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-4191971059925615653Wed, 25 Feb 2009 03:48:00 +00002009-02-24T20:19:05.782-08:00In a forgotten corner of a familiar room I sat. Trying to find a new perspective on the day. Today. A rare day. In that it was quiet. It had no new adversities injected into it. It was what a day should be. I wanted to find comfort in it. I wanted to not worry about the next step, the next problem, the next something. The feeling of calm had become uncomfortable.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/02/dude-wheres-storm.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-1315815104042225140Mon, 23 Feb 2009 06:41:00 +00002009-02-22T22:47:44.570-08:00A large portion of my time is spent away from people that I fully understand. That is to say that a good amount of my time is spent observing, at least audibly, strangers. So whatever I hear fall from their face is subject to nothing except my experience with that combination of those words. I wonder a lot about where they are coming from, but find only where I am.http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/02/common-people.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-5080241898710626734Sat, 21 Feb 2009 21:25:00 +00002009-02-21T13:42:33.504-08:00Things I've had to argue/reconsider today:That newspaper blowing in the wind is not weather. That recycling is not just clean garbage. That asteroids are not planets.That all clear things are not primarily composed of water(this one got deep!).That sugar is not just sweet salt.That pink is a color and doesn't really sound like anything.That last names aren't really that random.What air tastes http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/02/nothing-isnt.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8116700232516359670Sat, 21 Feb 2009 00:27:00 +00002009-02-20T16:28:35.924-08:00Having just surmounted another of the many, thought unsurmountable, emotional mountains, I sat listless and nearly breathless behind the wheel. My breathing was shallow and forced. My mind was so full it felt empty. I literally couldn't pull a thought from it. I wanted to reach out. I needed someone to know. I made a call. I really just wanted to say out-loud “I did it. This part's done.” to http://unicornhooves.blogspot.com/2009/02/getting-away.htmlbree.hartwig@gmail.com (Bree)0