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sunrisepride

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stay out of trouble, stay in touch;

try not to think about me too much.

Created on 2007-04-28 17:35:40 (#12829342), last updated 2007-08-21

25 comments received, 17 comments posted

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6 Journal Entries, 9 Tags, 6 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 6 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	sunrisepride

Bio

I'm Chloe. This journal is fandom-related, and mainly centred around Queer As Folk. Feel free to add me if you'd like.

My other fandom-related journal is

crayola123. You're welcome to add and/or visit. :)

That night I met you I wrote: it is possible i have imagined my entire life.
-- sarah manguso.

Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines,
That rocket by where, light and high, the wild-grape swings,
By the rubbish in our wake, and the noble noise we make,
Be sure, be sure, we're going to do some splendid things!

- ROAD SONG of the BANDAR-LOG, Rudyard Kipling

Each morning I look in the mirror
and say promise me something

don't do the things I've done.

-- jeffrey mcdaniel, "disasterology".

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax.

Don't bother remembering any of it.

Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.
-- 'antilamentation', dorianne laux

forward and onward and upward, ahoy.

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