tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59720361679501767612012-01-31T15:10:52.557-08:00A delightfully dark blend of the facts and the fictions of what is left of a life in flux.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.comBlogger1771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-27509556119402035982011-08-26T22:59:00.000-07:002011-08-26T23:00:19.658-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-74834963643909757312011-08-18T02:02:00.000-07:002011-08-18T02:04:46.382-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-38050748531748820812011-06-11T10:29:00.000-07:002011-06-11T12:00:42.396-07:00

Though my mind and heart were at ease with the absence of him. Relieved, even. But the familiarity built inside of me from the previous year and a half was taking its time leaving. It felt as though I was having to pull parts of him out of every cell, like a surgeon removing shrapnel. The ones in my eyes were being the most troublesome. They played tricks on my understanding. Seeing him in people

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-18140694590945731662011-06-11T09:48:00.000-07:002011-06-11T09:49:04.827-07:00

Constant bickery had slithered and seeped into our home; as makeshift and tentative as that home was. The mania and meanness that would manifest with a regularity that was difficult to time or track had left me wan and weak. I tried to keep to my usual stoic sense of myself, but months of consistent, constant, paroxysm and pain were taking a plainly perceptible toll.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-37445385918548966952011-04-25T16:40:00.000-07:002011-04-25T16:43:05.478-07:00

Through continued turmoil I was left with an overwhelming sense of despair and dread of the future. Waking in cold sweats, with my heart pounding too loudly in my ears. The sense that I was barely hanging on was constant, though still beyond a grasp, I was easily knocked out of even the pensive comfort I existed in. My mind was always a stir, my thoughts were louder than the words in the air

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-82443949824601667362011-04-24T15:16:00.000-07:002011-04-24T15:26:15.730-07:00

Every step away from there I felt a pound or so lighter in my chest. My mind was racing, My hands were shaking, my legs and arms were sore, and assaulted. I knew where I needed to get to but the idea of getting there was confusing because of the intense fog in my mind. I felt crazy, literally, a feeling I had managed to dodge for a while. I had been having the anxiety and stress but I hadn't been

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-62979714308804032592010-11-14T19:03:00.001-08:002010-11-14T19:03:56.772-08:00

Hey, Here is how you make an omlette easy like.Heat an oiled pan for on med heat.Whip 4 to 6 eggs with a dash of milk.Add eggs to heated pan.Let sit for about 30 seconds.Add desired fillings.Cook for 3 to 5 minutes.Fold and serve.Blamo!

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-81491980903022947182010-10-10T21:45:00.003-07:002010-10-10T21:45:52.068-07:00

Maayyyyyybe...

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-80313258102801053282010-10-10T21:45:00.001-07:002010-10-10T21:45:46.827-07:00

Maayyyyyybe...

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-42547401807486584022010-03-05T13:07:00.000-08:002010-03-05T13:34:56.717-08:00

Yesterday morning was a specific display of how bad I am at riding the bus. I know, I know, it really shouldn't be that difficult, but I'm kind of a dip. My phone had died overnight, and I didn't bother to charge it; figuring I could easily wait until I got to work to do it. I didn't NEED to use OneBusAway, right? Wrong. I got to the stop and noticed that I had about 15 minutes to kill. So I went

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-2095080031703905782010-02-13T14:33:00.000-08:002010-02-13T14:46:09.172-08:00

I fought for every second of sleep that managed to occur the night before. Talking myself into a tepid slumber then coaxing my way back after I sat straight up over-breathing only an hour or so later. Mind racing and tears pressing up against the back of my eyes. None fell, though. I pulled myself out of bed after agonizing through the last moments of sleep. Walked heavy footed into the bathroom

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-24116918726236656992009-12-30T14:54:00.000-08:002009-12-30T15:08:41.709-08:00

It 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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-81222396590179783062009-11-28T11:52:00.000-08:002009-11-28T11:55:02.140-08:00

With 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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-14452733097215764582009-11-20T21:50:00.001-08:002009-11-20T21:54:05.209-08:00

Components: 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-81922060325990468602009-11-20T18:00:00.000-08:002009-11-20T18:51:19.545-08:00

He 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-48779555988010942462009-11-07T15:25:00.000-08:002009-11-07T15:28:46.385-08:00

The 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-6415840178284042262009-10-18T21:27:00.000-07:002009-10-18T23:31:37.223-07:00

Fall 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-76652016691888035672009-10-14T16:58:00.001-07:002009-10-14T17:04:36.746-07:00

The 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-50478045973532105622009-10-14T16:44:00.000-07:002009-10-14T16:47:19.150-07:00

At times even hearing your own name can make no sense.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-31440110891453629572009-09-03T20:23:00.001-07:002009-09-03T20:23:18.370-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-36689892108324489612009-07-13T14:04:00.000-07:002009-07-13T14:29:24.244-07:00

I 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 try

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-86015061162806414162009-07-12T18:10:00.000-07:002009-07-12T19:03:25.710-07:00

I 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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-58382028331131843832009-07-11T11:58:00.000-07:002009-07-11T12:23:34.212-07:00

He 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 right

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-36945775651599969712009-07-09T14:49:00.000-07:002009-07-09T15:12:57.810-07:00

To 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-53347018374763930892009-07-07T09:45:00.000-07:002009-07-07T10:08:27.746-07:00

I'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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-59242357938775935542009-07-07T00:58:00.000-07:002009-07-07T09:40:01.030-07:00

--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."

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-14473896207724441552009-06-20T13:51:00.001-07:002009-06-20T13:57:35.571-07:00

Reading 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,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-78016022200503170582009-05-05T03:15:00.001-07:002009-05-05T03:15:41.647-07:00

Does it count as a stain if it never dries?

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-81833939166445417462009-03-31T20:42:00.000-07:002009-03-31T21:00:53.602-07:00

Seeing 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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-37860494435823681942009-03-12T19:00:00.001-07:002009-03-12T19:00:37.451-07:00

A sobering shower to wash away the emotional drunk sickness of the moment. That was built of many other moments passed.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8226582020500790492009-03-01T20:25:00.000-08:002009-03-01T20:45:19.115-08:00

He 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-52023893260026601542009-03-01T16:52:00.000-08:002009-03-01T18:39:16.938-08:00

Contents (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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-41919710599256156532009-02-24T19:48:00.000-08:002009-02-24T20:19:05.782-08:00

In 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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-13158151040422251402009-02-22T22:41:00.001-08:002009-02-22T22:47:44.570-08:00

A 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.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-50802418987106267342009-02-21T13:25:00.000-08:002009-02-21T13:42:33.504-08:00

Things 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-81167002325163596702009-02-20T16:27:00.000-08:002009-02-20T16:28:35.924-08:00

Having 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

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-73050000656088567602009-02-19T18:00:00.000-08:002009-02-19T18:24:32.322-08:00

Being in public is often this way for me. It happened when I needed to be alone but also needed to be around people. Not bothered, though. Or even noticed. There were around 5 or so places that I could, comfortably, go when I needed people, at least in my peripheral. It was almost like all I needed was the knowledge that they were still there. I needed the energy of their beating hearts, and

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-3895122175038323962009-02-18T22:36:00.000-08:002009-02-18T22:38:00.220-08:00

Puh-Puh is BEGGING. Reflective eye begging.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-53963313310530798122009-02-18T21:53:00.000-08:002009-02-18T22:03:41.628-08:00

just have half a dog's face in the picture of the kitchen in the house you are trying to rent. I will pay first, last, pet, and double deposit to stop this emoting.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-54856128631338908782009-02-16T18:32:00.000-08:002009-02-16T18:42:01.358-08:00

In lieu of recent, retardedly large, expenses I decided it would be a good idea, and maybe even fun, to cut corners here and there to expedite the replenishing process for my comfort money cushion. I canceled a magazine subscription, I can just read it on-line anyway right? Did not renew my Celine Dion fan club membership. I mean, I'm not going to go see her in Vegas AGAIN, right? (this one kind

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-62014175959444231272009-02-14T08:48:00.000-08:002009-02-15T13:50:02.324-08:00

I had spent the day bitterly cooking in the kitchen of our fractured home. It was one of my favorite holidays (because it was all about food, duh) but I had barely kept from crying in the mashed potatoes. My best friends were here, they lived with us, in fact. But I was feeling outrageously alone. Finally, we all sat down for dinner. I felt like it was an outrageous accomplishment for us all.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-74894913894807763022009-02-10T17:21:00.000-08:002009-02-10T17:27:09.907-08:00

I hung up the phone and that familiar feeling crept in. Shame. I thought back over the last few minutes and wondered if anyone had been able to over hear the conversation I had just scaled. I hoped they hadn't, but I somewhere very close to the surface wished someone had, and would offer a shoulder or a smile. Even just an acknowledgment of “Yeah, that was probably pretty tough, man.” This was a

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-20451963327562011372009-02-09T23:12:00.000-08:002009-02-09T23:47:53.691-08:00

On Sunday I took Oliver to Value Village. To spite his father, and also to look for a soccer ball. Oliver went to leave his scooter outside the door, as is usually appropriate scooter etiquette, FYI, when the security guard who works in Value Village came out and informed him that he "better not leave that bike out there. Some asshole will steal it." (bike. ASSHOLE.) Oliver had a moment of panic

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-1543940346761527652009-02-08T20:38:00.000-08:002009-02-08T20:43:42.414-08:00

"Did you figure it out yet?" His voice startled me and ripped me out of my thoughts."Oh, um, no. Let's just get a cab. Did that flight seem longer than six hours to you I'm wiped?" I said. "Why, are you hungry again or something?" I dropped it. I moved to the part of the sidewalk set aside to hail cabs. One was almost instantly availabble to us. We climb in, unsuspecting tourists. The cab smells

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-61303470109962351802009-02-07T15:23:00.000-08:002009-02-07T16:16:38.593-08:00

Looking at him was like looking in a mirror. I didn't like identifying the parts of myself in him that I was noticing. I could see through what he was desperately trying to portray. He wasn't trying to seem rude or indifferent; he was trying to seem strong. I felt judged, if only by myself. This behavior was learned, and it was learned from me. The hyper emotional cycles. The infectious joy

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-51199965958042358642008-12-17T14:26:00.000-08:002009-02-07T16:20:06.121-08:00

The cold breath of a city wrapped in winter danced and whirled around me as I walked alone. these late night walks did a lot to settle my mind. I could get things to seem so clear by the time I got back to the house around 3 am. All would be lost by the time I woke up in the morning.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-20473996342514704872008-12-16T10:37:00.000-08:002008-12-16T10:38:56.004-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-28011335537129597762008-12-12T20:45:00.000-08:002008-12-12T20:46:03.468-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-87833583184004776052008-12-01T22:49:00.001-08:002008-12-01T22:49:12.487-08:00

The memories still hold fire and keep their own sort of promise. Even after all the time and all of the things since. I still can be gripped and then ripped apart by the memory of even one of the most benign moments. Those moments that were so common and comfortable once. They find me and make me wonder. While bringing me blinding and absolute pain. They are phantom pains like those of a lost

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-60086350828943495342008-12-01T22:25:00.000-08:002008-12-01T22:26:32.365-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-41394070193275659552008-11-18T11:57:00.001-08:002008-11-18T12:08:55.171-08:00

I'm not usually impressed with little kid art, mostly because it sucks, but Ollie's stuff is pretty kick ass. By that I obviously mean REALLY kick ass!This is a t.v. watching a t.v. watching a t.v watching a t.v... with legs:This is a jelly fish--renamed a j-ollie fish:* The title of J-ollie fish was not actually added by Ollie. It was the brain baby of Sean The Clam.This is a clam named Sean on

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-24731435926585006442008-10-15T15:25:00.000-07:002008-10-15T15:26:37.646-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-84108339768657590452008-09-16T21:29:00.001-07:002008-09-16T21:29:54.319-07:00

I had taken too much, or not enough, depending on how I looked at it. I crawled into the bathroom after a swirling moment of muscular dejection in my legs; to try and offer my body a reprieve from the battle happening inside of it. The violent vomiting seemed appropriate but did nothing to calm any of my distresses. My mind was swirled with defeat. Perverting memories inside of itself. I was

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-12199075166695056382008-09-16T10:10:00.000-07:002008-09-16T10:58:31.625-07:00

I had fallen asleep amid a heaving, wrenching and absolute sob. Just minutes after ingesting a dubitable dose of this and that. I had sat half an hour or so staring at the the bottles; over thinking the amounts I would allow to pass through my lips. All the while nearly hyper ventilating and convulsing with the emotional agony that had given itself to physical turmoil. I didn't feel sleep coming

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-72941102689664494062008-09-15T19:43:00.001-07:002008-09-15T19:43:54.516-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-80134266511012325782008-09-01T13:46:00.001-07:002008-09-01T13:46:44.394-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-8960016529639262382008-08-28T14:46:00.000-07:002008-08-30T09:41:04.496-07:00

Her eyes pulled themselves apart, reluctantly, for the first time of the day. A soft coo and a tight scrunch/squint kept the bright morning light from pushing itself past her eyes. The light aided in pulling her fully out of the restless sleep that had so briefly visited. Her right hand was waking as well. Cramped and crumbled around a pen. The paper it had been wedded to had been pushed into the

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-74464002734948739982008-08-21T15:14:00.000-07:002008-08-21T15:15:54.951-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-59576817324854650862008-08-05T22:33:00.001-07:002008-08-05T22:33:46.055-07:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-13527832501242639552008-08-01T13:28:00.000-07:002008-08-01T13:34:39.554-07:00

I had been laying on the couch continuously for the better part of a week. My only gauge of time was the light shining, or not shining, on the building across the street. My curtains were half open. I could see into two windows in that building across the street. I could see people in their apartments. They were doing dishes, aimlessly wandering around in thought, talking on the phone, eating at

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-33259598196763856102008-07-28T11:51:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:14.861-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-69272803196214230082008-07-27T15:31:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:15.063-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-62491038633207604502008-07-25T21:00:00.001-07:002008-12-09T20:40:15.462-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-91724015199086599062008-07-25T19:24:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:15.618-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-84670198932380902722008-07-24T00:27:00.000-07:002008-07-24T09:14:33.872-07:00

His expression would change seam-fully and awkwardly. he was always forming what to say next. Listening just enough to follow. His expression would always be of surprise when he would realize what you had said. It took him a few beats to recover and transition to a more at ease, appropriate and more fitting expression. His interactions with friends were always overly comfortable. Impenetrable.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-36288519718055804442008-07-14T07:08:00.001-07:002008-12-09T20:40:15.858-08:00

"I'm cold for goodness sakes!" he nearly yelled at the pestering youngsters. They weren't younger than him, most of them at least, but him being the tallest and largest they looked up to him. Not just literally. They were wanting him to pull them through the deepest part of the wading pool. He was the only one tall enough to crawl through on his knees. It was no easy feat. This pool was formed

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-61054514615866056962008-07-13T11:22:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:16.107-08:00

Look at his li'l face!

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-4859951944018633212008-07-08T11:09:00.000-07:002008-07-09T15:44:36.104-07:00

On my walk into the office today I was offered a strange compliment (??). I was waiting for the light to change while having what can only be described as a depeche mode mo-ment (master and servant indeed). When a woman standing next to me motioned for me to remove my ear buds. I did so, timidly, and raised an eyebrow for her to go ahead. "Your hair looks so comfortable!" She spouted. My mind

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-50337133645460135922008-07-01T15:54:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:16.350-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-19862576069062762272008-06-25T13:30:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:16.648-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-22273495706104864442008-06-25T08:21:00.001-07:002008-12-09T20:40:16.992-08:00

This was taken this last weekend. It was Oliver's second gay camping trip. He had a really great time. I hadn't seen him be so excited and happy about anything in a long time. He was constantly laughing and nearly giddy the entire trip. He lifted all of our spirits by allowing his to be lifted.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-19886576633023411962008-06-24T12:38:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:17.181-08:00

This album came up in my Itunes just now. I don't know why I have it. I don't know why I have a lot of things. Like, the other day Leann Rimes singing Purple Rain came on. What the Huuhhggh? Which I instantly added to my running list of worst covers in the history of history. It joined the likes of Hootie and the Blowfish singing Please,Please,Please Let me Get What I Want, Celine Dion singing

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-2433171338838390582008-06-24T11:50:00.000-07:002008-06-25T13:17:56.848-07:00

"I love you!" She screamed. Her tone was frantic and confident. Two traits not usually present anywhere in her. Her arms were up. They hung there along with the statement. Her gaze was directly on and cut through him. Another rarity for her; eye contact. Her chest was tight and she was already beyond tears in this. "That is not my fault," His tone was flat and honest. He was not trying to be

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-84455989337988341012008-06-23T11:19:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:17.390-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-7414858859643992142008-06-21T15:23:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:17.545-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-50215611480311970362008-06-21T13:11:00.001-07:002008-06-21T13:11:21.315-07:00

There are so many shades of green here that it is hard to believe that they all fall under the same color.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-57443101971807382202008-06-21T11:39:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:17.975-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-12049002304320271062008-06-21T11:20:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:18.267-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-70363950835766345752008-06-21T11:15:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:18.456-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-60746249881148049822008-06-20T14:53:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:18.926-08:00

He insisted.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-58422841379612307292008-06-14T15:41:00.000-07:002008-06-24T13:03:52.404-07:00

Maybe it was time for a change. The thought had been playing louder and more often inside my head lately. I wasn't angry at where I was or who I had around, but I was feeling more discontented with what we, being nearly every important person in my life, were to each other and what I had become to myself. I was finding more comfort in being alone. I wanted to find something new to make me feel

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-87097115120653582132008-06-14T15:26:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:20.219-08:00

All taken by Snotty, and taken from here.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-88296847956465637222008-06-14T12:45:00.001-07:002008-12-09T20:40:20.858-08:00

Voo Doo Doughnuts-- PDX

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-69246824407603009792008-06-06T12:58:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:21.130-08:00

I'm smiling so nicely because this was the guy taking the picture. Let's just employ the word dreamy, shall we?Last night Michelle's dress was in the AIGA Ready to WearRecycled Paper Fashion Show at the Seattle Center.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-62578490742239990292008-06-03T11:42:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:21.510-08:00

!!!!!!

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-79464045797142826132008-05-30T12:46:00.000-07:002008-05-30T13:13:22.542-07:00

I always knew that I was on borrowed time with you. There's no need to avoid it. Let's just call it a day. I'll tell you what, I'll save you the trouble of running away. I'm already gone. Just save a moment for me when the rest fall away to remember when I was there. Remember my shoulder and remember my touch. Until then, carry on. Carry on. You're something I can't need, and I something you

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-23200117438671583152008-05-30T09:03:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:21.864-08:00

on live journal they have a button called 'writer's block' which prompts you to answer a question and post the answer. yesterday the question was "pirates or ninjas?". i composed a venn diagram to try and work it out. though, i still don't know where my pre-fer-ence lies.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-70370833408704907692008-05-29T08:48:00.000-07:002008-05-29T08:53:35.074-07:00

The tear pushed its way out from behind my soul. The first to fall is always falls with the greatest force. It left me feeling like I could be easily blown over with a breathe. His breathe. He saw the tear, and the ones that followed closely behind. He did his part by not breathing. His back was straight and his mind obviously racing with what to do to make it better, but still be true. A

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-68865189465540110012008-05-27T10:53:00.000-07:002008-05-27T11:32:23.219-07:00

The file that sat between us on the desk seemed to be breathing. I could see the middle swell up and fall back into itself all with a pulsic rhythm. Its breath was making it hard for me to comprehend or even hear that this woman was so pointedly trying to convey. She would motion to the file with almost every sentence. The file whose binding was straining at the number of pages crammed into it.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-76059423445465815942008-05-10T12:10:00.001-07:002008-12-09T20:40:22.510-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-39333035287597200042008-05-10T10:12:00.000-07:002008-05-11T12:52:27.894-07:00

My days were seemingly falling off of each other into an undistinguished pool. Like they were falling off of a water wheel. Once the day fell into the swirled, foamy, depths it was lost. It fell and formed into the rest. Unintelligible became one to another. Had I done that task yesterday, or week ago? Is that asparagus a bundle bought a few days ago or is the memory i had just sporadically

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-70052631403347575042008-04-26T10:23:00.000-07:002008-04-26T10:58:48.734-07:00

This secret was strange. I didn't know who I was keeping it from. It didn't want to be with anyone else. It still acted like any other secret though and was crashing around inside my frame effectively ripping me apart from the inside out. It began at my core and was pushing outward. I couldn't think of any way to stop it. Then the physical pain began and it all started to feel equally matched,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-35106076201006667092008-04-22T13:29:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:23.822-08:00

swiped from everyone and anyone.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-77491020830479709092008-04-22T10:53:00.000-07:002008-04-22T11:10:42.169-07:00

Even though he had spent not nearly enough time, by her standards, in this place the space was drenched in him. She felt him skipping the paths he usually would travel through each room. In those lines he would tread he would leave the only joy that was left to her. Today there was only an apparition of him. And it was doing only the opposite. It was savagely pulling from her the last of her

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-48829766860902897682008-04-19T21:36:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:24.009-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-66432316883139475392008-04-19T16:35:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:24.252-08:00

i slept in those damn shoes.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-18541379700651658912008-04-19T16:34:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:24.741-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-12123912213775812522008-04-19T16:31:00.000-07:002008-12-09T20:40:25.658-08:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-88044605977878916592008-04-13T18:06:00.000-07:002008-04-13T18:52:12.179-07:00

1. Get away from EVERYONE.2. Clean with some ridiculous music on. Meat Loaf is the usual pick. For those of you paying attention, I DID just call Meat Loaf ridiculous. But maybe now you understand my desperate affection for him. While we are on the subject, him in the newest Cingular commercial made me want to turn my T.V. off for another year. Back to it, today I didn't want to clean, because

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5972036167950176761.post-35104021845065437412008-04-12T09:57:00.000-07:002008-04-12T10:33:27.528-07:00

"You are the sort of girl everyone wants to keep as their dirty. little. secret."The sentence seeped from his mouth like a foul odor. It came out slow and with an an intent that shot like a dagger straight to my soul. His moustache was severe but somehow these words and their meanings passed effortlessly through and passed it.The shrill, harsh, change in this interaction left my legs with the

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00322151772495333141noreply@blogger.com2