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name: Alicia
age: 24
screenname: cryztalina, since 8th grade and going strong
email: randomlifeinprogress@hotmail.com
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book: LOTR - JRR Tolkien
song: "Isala Iciibi" - John Chiti
quote: "Bufi!"
mood: Content
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Monday, November 17, 2003

So I just realized this is my blog and I can do whatever I want with it, so I'm going to. I am going to use it as an outlet for some of this poetry that I always hold on to and don't even put in my zine because I don't want to suject anyone to it. I figure that I'm not really subjecting anyone to anything here. So it begins.


If you aren't interested, stop reading. If you are slightly interested, continue. My poems are not that long. Titles of poems are in brackets.

[Why does everyone want me to stop caring?]

I'm searching for a good poem to save me
I'm looking to escape my mediocrity
Introspective writing has some perks
But mostly I need saving from that, too.

I've moved to a new state
That's constantly growing
My apathy is taking over
every corner of my world
destroying the indiginous species
and I'm dreading the day
when the kids will celebrate its coming
because I'm not really of that
kind of mind.

So before I forget
I'm building a shrine
honoring better times.

[Pavlov's Lucky Dogs]

It seems we're all just one or the other

If I reach for the potato chips you place before me
Will that reveal something true?

Something my conversation

And if you tracked my eating habits
for just one day
would a balance leave you
feeling betrayed?

Would that tell you something
about you?

You are what I eat.
(in the end.)

Does that scare you?
It scares me
Because my tears will ALWAYS be salty
even if I change
and eat sweet.

And I fear that need inside of me
unexplainable hunger
To find what
unexplainable hunger
is beating inside of you.

The bowl of chips is
sitting on the coffee table
next to a plate of cookies.

We stare, wide-eyed,
at the reflection of one another
in the TV screen.

Mom brings out 2 glasses of
Orange Tang
celery stalks covered in peanut butter.

[Sweet Caroline]

I'm ticklish
in a bad way.

I laugh
when I mean to cry.

And that is sort of like
me at all times.

I do what is expected
to cover what's inside.

My smile is just
a prettier place to hide.

[McUnions are Necessary]

So if I were "the man"
I wouldn't care about your time
I'd spend my days swimming
in vats of gold coins
They are shiny and
I can look in them
see the future.
Little packages
marked "M"
to speed you up
then slow you down
to fill your heart
and choke you cold
but at least your choking heart
overflowing with fried fat
and "salads" that are branded
with little white lies
won't look like mine
a big dollar sign.

Thank you, come again.

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