NOVEMBER 2006 | POETRY
YOU ARE A LITTLE BIT HAPPIER THAN I AM
i want to pour orange juice on my face
i want to pour a carton of orange juice onto my face and body
when i am lying on my bed, in the morning
and i want it to be sunday and i want to go back to sleep
and when i fall back asleep i want the orange juice to quickly evaporate
and take me with it
MAY 2007 | STORIES & FIRST NOVEL
BED & EEEEE EEE EEEE
BED (FROM "SASQUATCH")
In the parking lot, she drove and parked in a dark area with no other cars around. She reclined her seat, and listened to music. Outside there were trees, a ditch, a bridge; another parking lot. It was very dark. Maybe the Sasquatch would run out from the woods. Chelsea wouldn’t be afraid. She would calmly watch the Sasquatch jog into the ditch then out, hairy and strong and mysterious—to be so large yet so unknown; how could one cope except by running?—smash through some bushes, and sprint, perhaps, behind Wal-Mart, leaping over a shopping cart and barking. Did the Sasquatch bark? It used to alarm Chelsea that this might be all there was to her life, these hours alone each day and night—thinking things and not sharing them and then forgetting—the possibility of that would shock her a bit, trickily, like a three-part realization: that there was a bad idea out there; that that bad idea wasn’t out there, but here; and that she herself was that bad idea. But recently, and now, in her car, she just felt calm and perceiving, and a little consoled, even, by the sad idea of her own life, as if it were someone else’s, already happened, in some other world, placed now in the core of her, like a pillow that was an entire life, of which when she felt exhausted by aloneness she could crumple and fall towards, like a little bed, something she could pretend, and believe, even (truly and unironically believe; why not?), was a real thing that had come from far away, through a place of no people, a place of people, and another place of no people, as a gift, for no occasion, but just because she needed—or perhaps deserved; did the world try in that way? to make things fair?—it.
EEEEE EEE EEEE
[sometimes] Andrew would feel, in a way that momentarily made him believe despair was a mistake, that he missed those times, that there was a yearning, really, to his prose; and would try, then, to desire, in this missed and wanting and therefore nostalgic way, the present moment, when feeling lonely or sad; to experience it while it was happening as the thing he would later yearn for—to realize, as it was happening, that feeling bad was a mistake—as if it were words on a page, being read not lived. Schopenhauer had said that—that life was to be perceived not as a book you would write but as a book already written, something to be gotten through, so as to detach oneself from suffering, which was an outside thing, really; not actually in the text.
MAY 2008 | POETRY
COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL THERAPY
eleven-page poem, page two
energy drinks help me achieve worldviews that allow me to forgive you
masturbation is underrepresented
in my poetry, it’s a scientific fact
that our thoughts cause our feelings and behaviors
and there is a tingly sensation on the surface of my face
that feels like the binary nature of the universe
i feel severely confused and unable to function, i’ll be right back
something behind my forehead is trying to crush my ‘good feelings toward you’
SEPTEMBER 2009 | NOVELLA
SHOPLIFTING FROM AMERICAN APPAREL
“I’m alone,” said Sam. “What would happen if I started sniffing coke.”
“You would kill yourself in a panic attack.”
“Are you sure,” said Sam.
“You will be on coke trying to steal batteries and your mind won’t be working properly and you will fuck up and someone will catch you and then you will go to jail.”
“Oh yeah,” said Sam. “I don’t have to worry about money anymore, I just steal batteries.”
“Do people really buy batteries off eBay,” said Luis.
“Yes. I have undercut the competition. Walmart is crying.”
“I’m going to watch cartoon porn,” said Luis. “No I’m not. I'm going to look at Indian women. Have you ever fucked an Indian girl.”
“No,” said Sam. “Native American or Indian.”
“You are awesome,” said Luis. “Is her picture online.”
“I’m confused,” said Sam. “What are you talking about.”
“How did you meet her,” said Luis.
“No, I haven’t,” said Sam. “You’re confused.”
“What are you talking about,” said Luis.
“I haven’t had sex with one,” said Sam.
“Okay,” said Luis. “What are you talking about.”
“Luis,” said Sam. “What is happening. It’s Saturday.”
“I think we are going insane,” said Luis. “From not being around people. We are starting to go inside ourselves, and play around inside of our own mental illness. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What should I eat,” said Sam. “I have two choices. Cereal or peanut butter bagel.”
“Cereal,” said Luis.
“I wanted the bagel. I’m eating the bagel, I don’t know why I asked.”
“Sheila didn’t let you go over for leftovers,” said Luis.
“No,” said Sam. “I mean, we just didn’t talk or something.”
“Are you serious. Is everything okay.”
“I don’t know,” said Sam. “I woke up at 3:30.”
SEPTEMBER 2010 | SECOND NOVEL
RICHARD YATES
The next night after work [Dakota Fanning's mother] said there wasn’t time to drive Haley Joel Osment to the restaurant before Dakota Fanning’s therapist appointment. Haley Joel Osment and Dakota Fanning talked in the backseat on the way to the therapist’s house. “Stop whispering to each other,” said Dakota Fanning’s mother looking in the rearview mirror. “It’s rude. If you want to say something say it so everyone in the car can hear.” Dakota Fanning said they were speaking at a normal volume. “We aren’t like you, we don't scream everything,” she said. “It’s rude to keep talking when no one wants to hear what you have to say. That's what you do, you keep talking when no one is even listening to you.” They parked on the street outside the therapist’s house. Dakota Fanning and her mother talked loudly outside the car. Haley Joel Osment heard Dakota Fanning scream “Don’t touch me” and “Let go of my arm.”
He left the car and said to Dakota Fanning’s mother that she was acting like a 4-year-old boy and that she was a bad person. Dakota Fanning said she would go to therapy but that this was the last time. Her mother walked away. They were in a neighborhood of three-story houses. Dakota Fanning showed Haley Joel Osment bruises on her arm. She went in the therapist’s house. Haley Joel Osment sat alone in the car reading The Myth of Neurosis which said psychotherapy was destructive to people’s self-esteem, often confused unhappiness with mental illness, encouraged excuses and dependency while discouraging hard work and will power. Dakota Fanning and her mother came in the car. Haley Joel Osment apologized for saying Dakota Fanning’s mother was a bad person. Dakota Fanning’s mother said something about Haley Joel Osment’s age. She said Dakota Fanning’s hair looked bad.
YOU ARE A LITTLE BIT HAPPIER THAN I AM
i want to pour orange juice on my face
i want to pour a carton of orange juice onto my face and body
when i am lying on my bed, in the morning
and i want it to be sunday and i want to go back to sleep
and when i fall back asleep i want the orange juice to quickly evaporate
and take me with it
MAY 2007 | STORIES & FIRST NOVEL
BED & EEEEE EEE EEEE
BED (FROM "SASQUATCH")
In the parking lot, she drove and parked in a dark area with no other cars around. She reclined her seat, and listened to music. Outside there were trees, a ditch, a bridge; another parking lot. It was very dark. Maybe the Sasquatch would run out from the woods. Chelsea wouldn’t be afraid. She would calmly watch the Sasquatch jog into the ditch then out, hairy and strong and mysterious—to be so large yet so unknown; how could one cope except by running?—smash through some bushes, and sprint, perhaps, behind Wal-Mart, leaping over a shopping cart and barking. Did the Sasquatch bark? It used to alarm Chelsea that this might be all there was to her life, these hours alone each day and night—thinking things and not sharing them and then forgetting—the possibility of that would shock her a bit, trickily, like a three-part realization: that there was a bad idea out there; that that bad idea wasn’t out there, but here; and that she herself was that bad idea. But recently, and now, in her car, she just felt calm and perceiving, and a little consoled, even, by the sad idea of her own life, as if it were someone else’s, already happened, in some other world, placed now in the core of her, like a pillow that was an entire life, of which when she felt exhausted by aloneness she could crumple and fall towards, like a little bed, something she could pretend, and believe, even (truly and unironically believe; why not?), was a real thing that had come from far away, through a place of no people, a place of people, and another place of no people, as a gift, for no occasion, but just because she needed—or perhaps deserved; did the world try in that way? to make things fair?—it.
EEEEE EEE EEEE
[sometimes] Andrew would feel, in a way that momentarily made him believe despair was a mistake, that he missed those times, that there was a yearning, really, to his prose; and would try, then, to desire, in this missed and wanting and therefore nostalgic way, the present moment, when feeling lonely or sad; to experience it while it was happening as the thing he would later yearn for—to realize, as it was happening, that feeling bad was a mistake—as if it were words on a page, being read not lived. Schopenhauer had said that—that life was to be perceived not as a book you would write but as a book already written, something to be gotten through, so as to detach oneself from suffering, which was an outside thing, really; not actually in the text.
MAY 2008 | POETRY
COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL THERAPY
eleven-page poem, page two
energy drinks help me achieve worldviews that allow me to forgive you
masturbation is underrepresented
in my poetry, it’s a scientific fact
that our thoughts cause our feelings and behaviors
and there is a tingly sensation on the surface of my face
that feels like the binary nature of the universe
i feel severely confused and unable to function, i’ll be right back
something behind my forehead is trying to crush my ‘good feelings toward you’
SEPTEMBER 2009 | NOVELLA
SHOPLIFTING FROM AMERICAN APPAREL
“I’m alone,” said Sam. “What would happen if I started sniffing coke.”
“You would kill yourself in a panic attack.”
“Are you sure,” said Sam.
“You will be on coke trying to steal batteries and your mind won’t be working properly and you will fuck up and someone will catch you and then you will go to jail.”
“Oh yeah,” said Sam. “I don’t have to worry about money anymore, I just steal batteries.”
“Do people really buy batteries off eBay,” said Luis.
“Yes. I have undercut the competition. Walmart is crying.”
“I’m going to watch cartoon porn,” said Luis. “No I’m not. I'm going to look at Indian women. Have you ever fucked an Indian girl.”
“No,” said Sam. “Native American or Indian.”
“You are awesome,” said Luis. “Is her picture online.”
“I’m confused,” said Sam. “What are you talking about.”
“How did you meet her,” said Luis.
“No, I haven’t,” said Sam. “You’re confused.”
“What are you talking about,” said Luis.
“I haven’t had sex with one,” said Sam.
“Okay,” said Luis. “What are you talking about.”
“Luis,” said Sam. “What is happening. It’s Saturday.”
“I think we are going insane,” said Luis. “From not being around people. We are starting to go inside ourselves, and play around inside of our own mental illness. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What should I eat,” said Sam. “I have two choices. Cereal or peanut butter bagel.”
“Cereal,” said Luis.
“I wanted the bagel. I’m eating the bagel, I don’t know why I asked.”
“Sheila didn’t let you go over for leftovers,” said Luis.
“No,” said Sam. “I mean, we just didn’t talk or something.”
“Are you serious. Is everything okay.”
“I don’t know,” said Sam. “I woke up at 3:30.”
SEPTEMBER 2010 | SECOND NOVEL
RICHARD YATES
The next night after work [Dakota Fanning's mother] said there wasn’t time to drive Haley Joel Osment to the restaurant before Dakota Fanning’s therapist appointment. Haley Joel Osment and Dakota Fanning talked in the backseat on the way to the therapist’s house. “Stop whispering to each other,” said Dakota Fanning’s mother looking in the rearview mirror. “It’s rude. If you want to say something say it so everyone in the car can hear.” Dakota Fanning said they were speaking at a normal volume. “We aren’t like you, we don't scream everything,” she said. “It’s rude to keep talking when no one wants to hear what you have to say. That's what you do, you keep talking when no one is even listening to you.” They parked on the street outside the therapist’s house. Dakota Fanning and her mother talked loudly outside the car. Haley Joel Osment heard Dakota Fanning scream “Don’t touch me” and “Let go of my arm.”
He left the car and said to Dakota Fanning’s mother that she was acting like a 4-year-old boy and that she was a bad person. Dakota Fanning said she would go to therapy but that this was the last time. Her mother walked away. They were in a neighborhood of three-story houses. Dakota Fanning showed Haley Joel Osment bruises on her arm. She went in the therapist’s house. Haley Joel Osment sat alone in the car reading The Myth of Neurosis which said psychotherapy was destructive to people’s self-esteem, often confused unhappiness with mental illness, encouraged excuses and dependency while discouraging hard work and will power. Dakota Fanning and her mother came in the car. Haley Joel Osment apologized for saying Dakota Fanning’s mother was a bad person. Dakota Fanning’s mother said something about Haley Joel Osment’s age. She said Dakota Fanning’s hair looked bad.
![drawing used in psychological studies to test a person's 'level of [something]' by asking 'does this scenario seem "bleak," "very bleak," "not notable," "bittersweet," "humorous," "colorful," "oceanographic," or [other] to you'](http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4106/5093752235_7a9db34a16_t.jpg)
![[self explanatory, to some degree]](http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1439/4599430795_7363ca2588_t.jpg)
![IMG_3946[1]](http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2676/3729693091_5de0dd665d_t.jpg)
![IMG_3948[1]](http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2654/3730491802_e389da553a_t.jpg)
![IMG_3947[1]](http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3490/3730491606_e0538b0fc9_t.jpg)
![IMG_3957[1]](http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2518/3729695213_97b57be5c2_t.jpg)
