Negative-Castle

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There’s a castle out there/ somewhere/ where I met my dreams/ the floors are floating/ never the same/ and the people maligning/ but beautiful/ with smiles that lead on/ and words that make mistakes/ people from my past/ people I’m yet to see/ all floating there together/ in different spaces/ all in one/ castle/ where I meet my dreams

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Life is hard and I feel like quitting most of the time. If adulting was hard before it’s impossible now. Descending into the madness of my mind. Of not being in my body. But existing in it somehow still.

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I’ve turned negative/ something inside me has gone cold/ I’m being broken/ slow, slow fast/ a crushing that makes me lie down and cry/ rest the laurels I thought I had/ on a mat of stone/

 

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ButtButtGoose

Jesse: Lol maddy you’ve been high since you moved to Portland.

I’ve needed to be. No one tells you what it’s like because no one you meet knows what it’s like to move to a new town on a whim not knowing a soul there and having never been there before. I mean I could tell you if you met me along the way in making this or any life decision and our paths cross – but in general, at least in my case, there wasn’t anyone around who had ever done it or even heard of anyone doing it to ask. That’s fine. That’s how I met Mary Jane when I moved her and I’ve been one her and with her 24/7 since. She’s the best friend I have here.

We meet at summermoon on the day of the womens protest and I was protesting by wearing a dress and being as girly as I could be while not going to the march because marches in texas- or really just marches in general – don’t appeal to me. Tumtum hum de hum yes I’m a snob and have been accused of being a hipster to boot. Yes. I have a beanie collection got a problem with that? huh? Huh? Do ya?

😉

He was hitting on me – that’s ultimately how we meet – like any good male and female relationship it inevitably begins with one hitting on another – or maybe he wasn’t hitting on me – Jesse I’ve never asked … were you hitting on me? – okay I don’t really care but still… I’m pretty darn tootin sure he was hitting on me… after all he asked for my number gave me his and texted to come hang out that night. Woooooo all the Christian mom’s are quaking in their boots now… what did the good little girl do? Ignore him. That’s what I did. I didn’t feel like hanging out that night as is normal for someone with my condition I just wanted to be alone.

I’ll let you figure out what the condition is… under one condition… hahahaaa…. Don’t judge me harsher than you’d judge yourself. 😉

My room now is a purble milk color with purple accents on the areas that didn’t get milked. Like a purple cow milk of course. I mean obviously.

I miss my old life sometimes. Moving has been nothing but one big harassment literally unfortunate as that is. It really shows that there’s nothing like a change of scenery to make you realize just what a Butt life is. I want to say “sometimes” but no. Life is a Butt. I like butts but Jeeeezzzzzzzuuuussssss.

Morty is life. I’ll let you figure out the rest.

 

 

Toby.

Last night I saw you in my dreams a boy from yesterday now with me. I didn’t see your face at first just your golden skin and your hands your hands ready to make love make me sing set me on fire and accept my fire my passion my bawling tears from you that come when I come when I come when you ask me too when you push me and pull and tickle until it comes it all comes out those tears – that’s what your hands spoke of your skin your skin shinning from an inner sun radiating outward in the night of the moon sun reflection reflecting on thought you were gone for good that there was no one left thought I would never see you again and I’m crying and your telling me to stop but not in the stop stop kind of way but in the comforting holding kind of way the so close can’t see your face kind of way right away and then your just there and I know I will be and we will be forever for the rest of the time we have in the short time I won’t have to say goodbye again that we’ll go together and I don’t ever want you to go away again not for anything and I won’t ever go I won’t ever be alone and kicking myself and wondering why why it went went away the road calling my name a sin a curse the road not now not again it doesn’t matter shh shh shh it’s over but it’s not but the not being not being in your arms is over awaken in the night dry salt water and eyes that sting. Last night, I saw you in a dream.

https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/2157ntjtci64afjj2z72kfcoa/playlist/68yIDDFOkepALbQ8je85LV

Men-Funny-Creatures

Men are such funny creatures and no I don’t mean men like mankind… I mean men like men like the being of Mankind specifically designated by the protrusion of their reproductive organs that include a little sack of skin that houses their supply of genetic send offs which the said sack is protruding from the body in order to keep it from over heating in the way that banana’s are left out of the refrigerator in order to keep them from turning brown but the opposite in terms of temperature, nevertheless it is not this fact about men that makes them funny creatures, however it cannot be said to not, not make them funny creatures and does in its own right add to their funniness.

It’s not possible, you’re the only one seeing it, that’s how it’s real to you because it’s not possible.

Amanda was, or is rather, a real Asexual. She gets it. The funniness and oddity that is Man. When the teacher read to us “The Phantom Tollbooth” with the kid who is only half a kid character, well at the end of the book when the teacher, Mrs. Randal, asked us to draw our favorite Character Amanda drew the half-kid and drew him as a half kid missing his legs, not the half down the middle like the kid in the book – Mrs. Randal’s hadn’t been showing us the pictures so that we were forced to imagine the characters on our own, so at the end of the book when she asked us to draw our favorite character – as we imagined them, Amanda decided to draw and thus produce the image of a boy missing his legs and mystically floating about, in the missing of his legs he was also naturally missing in other things – that of his reproductive organs; this was – is ­- an early sign of something Amanda was born into – the asexuality showing her colors. Amanda didn’t think the kid was funny; in fact to this day she’ll vouch that her drawing is a more accurate representation of the half kid from the book.

Dear OCD,

You were there all along/ in the corner of every song/ in the back of each mind state/ not even creeping/ just sitting there waiting/ for me to realize/ and now I do/ that what was wrong all along/ was what was wrong in the first place/ you.

 

When you realize it was your ocd that caused you to go insane because no one ever got you help for the ocd before it was way way way too late.

 

with Love,

Piper Kameltoux

 

Dear Shawn,

I don’t know why I changed my last name to Kameltoux, but I did. I don’t know why things turned out the way they did between us, but they did. Sure maybe it’s because they’ve now officially found out whats wrong with me by awarding me the disease that officially says ‘we don’t know what’s wrong with you’ aka bi-polar.

with Love,

Piper Kameltoux

Dear Magic Muffy

Dear Muffy,

You are magic you are gold you shall go where no man goes find where your inner spirit lies do not hesitate to break old ties slip out of the old let go you know you no longer belong there wait for lightening will shine forth from your palm if you reach deep down and free your song the blackbird in you that now downward lies set it free to watch it fly.

And in the end you’ll end up two bears but bear this burden for now see this through for you shall reach the highest high and solid companion with which to climb together wearing into pillars of stones his is taller than you know.

Yours Sincerely,

Butterfly

i sat in front of him at the show

I didn’t want to see him but he was there and everyone was dying – she was dying and I couldn’t do anything about it i wanted to get her away from me but that made her angry but her face was wallpaper sanded and her skin hung as it clung to what was left of her bones i hadn’t seen her in years but now my job to take care of her to be there for her but i didn’t even really remember her name but the face remembered her face the what it was before face i didn’t know the new face and he was going to be there too and i didn’t want to go but i did i just wanted to figure out where it went wrong where it went wrong and the world coming in and going and going and trying to hold on floating through scenes and decrepitated houses with mold and old wood beyond redemption houses white people love to save until it cost them money and as long as they don’t have to live in them live in them like that with the empty rooms and decrepit wood and the killer in the halls and doors not locking and wondering why he’s coming for me but knowing that he is and that i have to save her even though i don’t want to don’t like her but love her not that don’t like her a scared to death of her because she’s terrifying with her skin in bags her bones ready to be free to move on to leave without her and her eyeballs peering out in terror of the leaving of what she knows is yet to come
but i sat in front of him floated by him hoped and yet hoped he would yet wouldn’t see me because want to be seen but don’t know how to react how to respond how to reach out where we went wrong because because because he’s been gone now for a while never gave him my new number because i had to get a new number or i didn’t but i did had to get rid of him not him the one in front of me but the other him the one with the octo arms grabbing back and now searching for me so sporadically and yet consistent the emails and emails the emails why doesn’t block work on him how much money does one need to stalk someone who doesn’t want to be seen seen by him and the knowing that he is looking and looking and looking
i don’t remember the show at all a lot of lights floating on the stage some kind of game some kind of highschool thing or something old something supposed to enjoy supposed to enjoy but not feeling it and wonder if i’m the only one who doesn’t get it so just sit there in a giant magenta hat hiding from him in a world of black and white and mostly magenta accents and bright yellow lights
i thought it was fine that i’d gotten by away unseen and it was sad because so aware of him of his presence behind me they want me in the room they’re coming for my life for my eggs to make babies with three because she’s old and she’s withered but the one i need the one who i thought could save me won’t come she just looks at me from his arms and grimaces and they dance as they float into the hurricane air the air of the storm building or built or over but she’s always there looking on at me from above judging judging judging
there’s a fence a tall fence a fence around a field that not supposed to go into but have to have to jump float between the houses from houses from houses until i get to the decrepit house where i’m late for that i’m supposed to be at now but can’t seem to get things moving forward can’t do anything more than try to float to jump float kick into the right direction and not backwards though the wind pulls it pulls and the leaves are tangling in my face
and he calls to me he calls to me should i pretend to not remember his name? i’m half way in the fence and half way out and he’s aduacity he’s sent the two women on ahead the women i don’t know but assume are his they must be his this is denial talking okay fine they were his women there at the show with him one on each arm one with a hat like mine but older both older than me i look like the little kid the naive little child that i am with him he’s got those sad eyes but when he smiles he smiles last saw him in an instagram pic not his he’s not on social media of course he’s not on social media he’s too cool but not not above it or below it just operating in a different zone and different level neither higher or lower and frustrating level for kids for the kid i am compared to him i’m a kid just a silly little kid who who somewhere hidden liked him denial again denail again and again i liked him i thought there were there with him the potential of we but he didn’t see or he did
why did he never text me back?
i still don’t know was i too high or was no is he too old too old to try again for the we with a baby i understand i want to think but denial i don’t and now he’s calling i don’t go to him i just look around and pretend not to see him searching for ‘someone’ who called my name i know his voice i know it’s him but i don’t want to look at him immediately don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much i hang on hang on to him to his every word to his every moment every moment he’s been gone but not he’s been there still been there all along just me i’m the one who left stopped showing up stopped going to see him got shy got ashamed
why didn’t he text me back?
he’s asking what happened after i finally look at but not right at him he’s wearing a magenta top with jeans and a sports coat like the kind linus wants to make eventually
i don’t want to don’t want to write this moment don’t want to remember the moment the heart skip the wonder why the floor hurts so bad on my hips my shoulder collapsing under me don’t want to see him to acknowledge the power denial the hurt the hurt he caused and is causing me a frist friend a frist chance but he but he
why didn’t he text me?
text me back… something the shirt is silly it’s blatent and sexy in a female way it’s the top of the dress Porsha Williams wore with Phaedra in the vacation it shows that undeniable that the women were with him and he not with me not on his mind doesn’t i know
i know
why he didn’t text me.
the rebuttal to his hey hey are you pretending not to remember me? the rebuttle
why did you never text me?
text me back just left me hanging and hanging and now have a new number a new track but don’t want it but do because need it it’s necessary and yet what would he say sa
“You talked about Tom too much.”
so you see? it’s him. him until the end until the waking the murder the slaughter the men the men he says talked talking but what about the jokes remembered in the morning and the weed his weed we smoked
denial the potential why because he’s old? no because i’m a child.

dedicated to Jason. I miss you. and Yes. I still remember your name, your face, and your accents. Maybe someday we’ll see if there’s more.