stars sitting in water by austin davis

night blindness my night blindness is getting worse. thinking that life is pointless but that's the point, it's stale but still sort of pretty. "between two points, in midair, i'm levitating." says my stereo. my night blindness is getting worse. the endless swarming armies of headlights constantly barrage me from the left lane. thinking how easy it would be if a driver in the opposite lane got a phone call or text, and while looking down accidentally swerved head on into my car, i flying headfirst through the windshield of my '99 mercury grand marquis. or if i was thinking about this and slammed into a stationary car, 30 seconds later i am a bloody mess face to the ground, remembered as another dumb teenage driver who wasn't paying attention. my night blindness is getting worse. but it makes everything look so much prettier, each headlight and streetlamp is a star, closer to earth than any i have ever seen. the truth is i would rather die blinded by stars than peacefully in my sleep.

untitled #1 like grey colossal towers in the sky held by immensely dense invisible cords a perfect set filled with clueless actors who forgot their parts millennia ago mankind is like black chalk smeared across the perfect mental image of a robert frost poem. and i see you standing there and i feel an immense guilt weigh upon my shoulders knowing what i have done to you and i am sorry. i am selfish and i deserve this. and i ebb and flow. my thoughts of nature and of beauty all add up to nothing once when i was a kid i saw true beauty in a stream by my house where the trees speckled the sunlight across the gentle current, clear enough to see the rounded stones at the bottom, and

it cast wavering sunlight shapes across their smooth backs and i had not seen it again til i met you you were a sad shade of violet sprawled against an enormous beige prison and i,

bright blue boisterous grinning saw something in you that i had not seen before but felt in myself but that was long before i was an asshole.

circles pt. 1 tonight i was lying in the backseat with a girl who wasn't my girlfriend listening to the same screeching weasel song for 40 minutes. my best friend was lying in my front seat reading the lyrics sheet to the cd by the light of the streetlamp above my car. she had her arms around my neck and i was lying back so i couldn't see the asphalt of the parking lot. i just saw the the lights like stars sitting in water from the city below. and the snow blowing onto my windows and refracting the light from the streetlamp. in that moment i felt content.

dancer ....and i walked inside because i was feeling sort of social. one girl who was cute came up to me and said "dylan's about to go on stage, you can just wait here i guess." i just waited there i guess. she practiced her dance routine in front of me, i don't think she was trying to impress me, but i don't really think much of anything, anyways. damn she was cute. i felt guilty. i felt guilty for a multitude of reasons. i looked at my feet and tried not to stare. busy people passed by me and 20 minutes later she is still practicing her dance routine. i had spent 20 minutes fantasizing about having sex with her. we had only exchanged about 20 words. i'm such a creep. dylan got off stage, and greeted me with a smile and a laugh. he's a good kid. we shot the shit for a couple minutes, he told me about the set, and the part they were rehearsing. he took his medication, and gave it back to me, i said "see you later." and he said bye or something and walked back into the jumbled mess of busy people. i drove home, alone, thinking about a lot of things, mostly how annoying my broken wiper blade is, and how i can't see shit through my windshield because of how it smears the rain. i got home and collapsed into my bed, thinking about having sex with the dancer girl. i think that i think about sexy things too much, it's not the person i wish i was, i wish i was more thoughtful and less lustful. i am

“giving my hands away”

america has lost its humanity to the strip malls. the lonesome crowded west was prophetic. i am almost burnt out. on go karts and arcades. but not quite. i saw you in your white blouse pink hair on the covered bridge in july. i saw someone else driving my gokart for me because i was underage. i saw another on the bench behind a church in november. although i saw you best, i think. "I CAN ONLY SEE THOSE EYES, I CAN ONLY SEE THOSE EYES, I CAN ONLY SEE THOSE EYES, EVEN WHEN I CLOSE MINE."

god well i for one have experienced dreams in reality i am thinking many things at once middle of the day walk through gates of trees in the wilderness by a friends house up on the mountain sort of wolf prints in the softsand and a practice of putting up a tent i got lost i am lost i am happy alone in the nature that birthed me and bathes my soul now i am sitting looking as far as i can through the trees it's the same beautiful trees as far as i can see rocks too and some fallen trees briars aren't even getting me today today is a good day white chocolate kit kats and i'm thinking in philosophy and you are thinking logical alive surviving living are you really yes you are you are an explorer of the wilderness but still an asshole and the two dumbfuck lovers that i love are together and i want to wander off again but there is a moment of fear, but then i saw that there was civilization that way anyways oh god but the freedom the light in the other direction the promise of wandering out west to utah undiscovered territory i am bleeding out from being stagnant in the city i don't belong in i will sit on this rock until something happens

“i blasted death grips last night at 1 in the morning, my parents were dead asleep.”

school filling space up with mundane ordinary thoughts just so i can feel like i'm getting something done but i'm getting nothing done this is fucking stupid i don't want to live like this anymore it's like my life is progressing, but only when i'm not at school i'm never going to do anything with this or with college what's the point what's the point i don't want money or a "good" job i'd rather bag groceries for minimum wage until i die until i die until i die what is going on i hate high school i hate high school i hate high school i wrecked my knee i am high on painkillers i wrecked my knee skateboarding i am high on painkillers i am making money on my music i am growing older i am making music on my money i am growing up i am finding purpose i am stuck in this fucking building for 8 hours a day.

untitled #2 i want to lay on your couch and listen to paul baribeau with you. or you could even pick the music, i don't care as long as it's something pretty and it would feel at place leaning my head in the crook of your neck. a 4 hour drive doesn't seem excessive to me and if i had to drive home at night i could just listen to music for 4 hours and look at the stars or the city lights or the other stupid things that i think are pretty. i'm so stupid and i'm so happy that i'm stupid enough to be happy. i'm going to act like an idiot and i'm an idiot for writing this. i'm an idiot but i feel like i know you. i'm an idiot and you are beautiful. i'm an idiot.

jetpack "i want a jetpack" god i do too i would go into space and i could look at all the pretty stars and never have to see anyone anymore. but you'd rather go to the top of a mountain. because then you wouldn't asphyxiate i guess you're more logical than me anyways. or you have a greater desire to remain with the living poems about jetpacks im feeling transcendental and where you are or where i am where are we? i feel sorry for cities because they all sleep alone if you don't count the suburbs i look down at them from space after i escaped from all of my problems it's times like these that i can't believe that high school is a real place sometimes it's hard to believe you're real and in a real place the you in the first part of the poem is a different you in the second part. but we're all the same person anyways.

back to the scenery: i am passing over my dad's hometown plainview texas. he hasn't lived there since he was 12 years old. he is now 58. if he saw it now it would be sad. another sad small mallfucked town but safe in an aging memory. in 900 years my dad will be dead and i will be too in 900 years i hope there is a son with a dad who stayed with him. in 900 years i hope there is a dad who isn't riddled with guilt because of his sons and their lives and how he wasn't there as much as he could have been. in 900 years i hope dads can fix it and forgive themselves because it's not 2913 but i already forgave you dad

i feel the same in my mind as i did when i was 10.

ashtray i'm like actually over it this time i swear i moved my obsessive affection to **** an even more impossible scenario woo.

youre an idiot

'yeah u know it

i hope everything works out for you not really jk i do, even though it prolly wont

well i mnean potate and his gf says that she acts like she likes me

does she?

maybe she stares at me alot and sits really close to me and puts her legs on me sometimes lol

shes totally into you just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart

just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart just be alphamale and you will win her heart and everyones heart

beached and your car made the sound of a rock hitting water as you hit the sloped driveway of the house across from mine, or the waves crashing upon the shore near a beach house i visited once on the pacific ocean, my 14 years had no idea how much colder the pacific was than my familiar gulf coast. once again my hair falls heavy upon my forehead. it took 6 months. and once again i fall heavy into my bed, sinking into the depths of sickness, staying home from school to play pokemon. i am failing. i am falling. i am flailing. i am calling out in as many ways as i can, a beacon, an absurd mating dance, i am growing my beard out again, maybe it will cover the scars and pockmarks of growing up. maybe it will hide my identity.

bedroom and we lay in potate's bed while he played farcry3 sitting on the edge, screaming and gunshots a contrast to your soft breathing, face 2 inches from my own. talking about sad things is your biggest interest and i have a lot of sad things to talk about. you think i am "eccentric" you think i am an "enigma" you ask why i'm always so sad i guess that means i am weird sad puzzle for you to figure out. i guess that's alright. potate's grandmother walks in i sit up fast, face flushed. how foolish and rude of me! laying under the covers WITH A GIRL in someone else's house! neither you nor potate seem to think it's a problem and you casually talk to his grandmother. she tells you your brake lights are still on, and you explain that your brake pedal sticks sometimes. we go outside to fix it. i fix it for you before you get over to the car and then you sit in the driver's seat, door open, and smoke weed while i nervously pick up twigs and break them into small pieces. we walk back to the house, but i'm still breaking twigs and you're looking at me. i look back for a second and look back down. we go back up and you ask me to play a song so i play a few and you just stare at me or close your eyes, hair splayed onto the bed looking up at me. potate sings along under his breath, still playing xbox. i have to leave. you do too. i walk you to your car, it is dark. i hug you and you kiss me on the cheek. i am visibly shocked and ecstatic

you smile a bit and tell me to not let it go to my head. i drive home thinking am i in a movie?

blood i am bleeding from my lip and drinking chocolate milk i thought in the shower today about how i just stand there for a long time and how many kids are dying from no water and how it's my fault and i still didn't have enough willpower to get out of the shower. wow i am bleeding a lot from lip that's a lot of blood i am feeling light headed when i was in the shower i looked down and saw that my breasts are big even though i am skinny and i thought about how unattractive that must be then felt sorry for all the girls who have had to see me naked. i think the blood has stopped but my hands are covered in it and i feel like i'm going to vomit and pass out someone just asked me if i was over you.

circles pt 2 for the first time in a long time. i don't feel guilty, i should care but i don't care. then camping went and got kicked out of the same school twice in a row for skating its stair set at ten oclock at night. then we got the cops called on us for practicing at ten oclock at night. then i brought the girl who wasn't my girlfriend home without kissing her bye, even though i really wanted to.

today we made a fire pit out of dry leaves and menthol cigarettes outside an elementary school. some kids rode by on a tricycle and we felt kinda bad. i'm drunk.

lake michigan i will rip out my veins and tie a noose. i will hang myself in your bathroom. i will write i love you on the glass sliding door of your shower in my blood. just stop. please. i can't do this anymore. there have been too many sad endings. for both of our lifetimes. lake michigan is as lonely as the sea landlocked fucked over by god nevertouching what do i care of being free if being free is being alone being alone is being without you you are always in view you are always in view.

untitled #4 "i wish i could have taken a picture but i was busy falling asleep in the backseat" i wish we were falling asleep in the backseat riding through a town we've never been in before and had a sense of home that wasn't a place but in each other i wish i could feel that way but everyone i could ever feel that about is a thousand miles away or would never like me anyways i want to run away to canada or maybe montana and live with small town punk kids and tell them stories of our travels in the outside world and i want to forget about all other life and sense of existence while we lay on the floor of our apartment looking into each other i want to forget any part of my life that didnt have you in it i just dont know who you are i want to start a planet a world with you where we are the only inhabitants but no i want to conquer the earth and as king of earth proclaim my love for you from every goddamned rooftop and alleyway, from every monument and gas station, from every basement and yard sale i will let my subjects know the living happiness that radiates from within my being, fueled by your very existence. but i'm not in love.

tonight tonight i "broke edge" which i had carefully maintained for almost a year. i smoked a menthol cigarette with potate and sang jets to brazil to impress you. i don't know if you were impressed. i was feeling less hopeful earlier in the night until you asked me about cincinatti. "so you're moving there in november?" "yeah." "what about all the girls at home?" "what?" "like what if you fall in love." "um i don't know" "would you bring them with you?" "yeah i would." "what if they couldn't?" "suicide is always an easy out." we sat on dani's couch and watched submarine for a while and it seemed like you were into it. that's pretty cool. it was my idea to watch it. we have to leave dani's. we go to the playground to swing. of all the places in the world ashleigh, jacob, and my ex girlfriend are there. weird. i run around with you and scream about potate getting abducted by aliens. he screams back "i'm a werewolf." fair enough. we sit on the trunk of my car and sing songs to each other. my ex laughs at us. i don't care i just want to hear you sing because it's fucking beautiful and you're fucking beautiful. you ask me about my other ex. the one i dated for over a year. you asked how it ended. "i just didn't like her anymore." you didn't seem satisfied. you give me a piggy back ride and call me fat. we go back to dani's to drop off potate so he can sneak out with her. i really want to kiss you. i just hug you and hold you as long as possible without seeming creepy. i pull away from the curb and you are looking at my face as i pull out and i smile to myself on the drive home, as i see the city unfold below me, a billion flashlights pointing upwards in a basement, fading into stars.

nintendo i am accidentally high on cough syrup, i would never do this on purpose i'm kind of scared but i'm sure i'll be fine i mean people drink more than this for fun right?? i masturbated and then puked on my nintendo and tried to wipe it up but ended up just falling off of my bed i'm really sick i feel sore everywhere all these people are asking me about girls i used to love and i wish they would stop i feel helpless and restless and my head is aching oh god i just want to sleep

not into it, definitely over it i'm ecstatic that i don't like you anymore, if you touched me now i would flinch. the thought of kissing you or holding you does not excite me or make my heart hurt anymore. but i am now emotionally invested in a girl that is dating one of my aquantinces, and i guess that's pretty shitty of me. but anything is better than feeling that way about you. i'm sorry.

photography i just had a day dream that i was sitting in photography and i said to evan "oh she broke up with me over text" and you got up walked over and kissed me and the class was hushed. then i got up with a blank stare, walked out onto the patio beside class and screamed as loud as i could. after the day dream i brushed my teeth and listened to my friends sing about their equally complex and depressing lives. then i felt overwhelmingly happy. well, i am now, i am feeling this now. my friends are equally as confused and sad as i am. that's fucking ludacris, i mean how can we be? hahahaha god life is so great i'm glad we're alive and i'm glad you don't love me, i've learned so much from being so sad.

i'm starting to think completely in poetry i think i am going crazy someone help what is going on

reality i look down at my hands and the blood pumping through the blue veins in my wrist and in my palms is aware of your existence. it knows. tonight there are countries in the night sky in my town, only in my town. i have a sense of ownership of this place but i am about to give it away. there is fine white hair growing on my knuckles. maybe i will have hairy hands like my father and brother. i saw my nephew grab my brother's hand, he got dad's hands. i got mom's, they are pale and translucent, i am sitting at the glass table where i spend most sunday afternoons drinking coke. i feel like my day to day occurences are meaningless, a slideshow played by a projector, and i have always kept my eyes on the screen. now i look to my right and you are there, in the vast blackness you are the colossal center of this universe. my life is being played on the screen but we are looking at each other, everything else seems meaningless. suddenly we are in a huge drainage ditch overgrown with weeds on a beautiful summer day at sunset. our friends are there we are all singing songs and smiling. we look at each other knowingly, slightly confused as to how we were transported from the blackness to this. realizing that i've known you all along. that my life has been just waiting for this event, for the moment i met you. realizing that god is very real and that this is why i am. forgetting about the complexity, greed, and pain that is the physical world. we have our own world that we will live in for eternities beyond the time that mankind will even exist. this is it. this is the realization of my life's one purpose. i will make music while i am in love with you. love is too weak of a word.

this is everything. we are two perfect pieces to one broken heart. and we fit. reality is irrelevant.

sinew i feel the muscle beneath your skin. this is nothing new. i feel your jaw move on my shoulder as you talk to evan. i feel the tendons and sinew of your pale wrist on my fingers as i sit quietly and drink in the moment. i curse myself again and again. for liking you for liking you because everyone else likes you and for not kissing you in my car last week when i should have. but my stereo plays back at me: "disappointment is more my style anyways."

you are just as broken as me and we both write songs about it. you wear cute clothes and sing in a pretty voice to get people to listen. i just scream as loud as i can and hope someone will hear.

stranger i'm going to write sad keyboard music. uploading king sad tracks. listening to the postal service. wondering about the functional aspects of suicide. remembering nothing is functional when you're dead. i hope the afterlife is a bed. a bed where we don't have to eat but just sleep for hours. and wake up and lay there, staring at the ceiling. you don't have to worry about getting up and showering because you are dead. i was thinking of adding another person to my afterlife idea. but that always makes things more complicated.

summer flipping through the pages of your worn and dogeared cometbus, smiling to myself as i read your revisions, notes, and how you can connect everything in everything to our beautiful lives. you are the maddest person i know and at the same time most innocent and naive. i really wish i could love you like you love me. every time i think about it the guilt crushes the air from my lungs and the happiness from my heart. we had no plans for life but each other and when i made other plans you were set aflame but held back. i guess i just forget to tell you sometimes. i'm sorry. but i'd like to spend every day riding around town listening to dikembe with you and the rest of camping. we were always the parents of the gang, anyways. and i think of an endless summer world full of shorts and skateboards and our smiling cigarette friends spinning in the dying light in the field by the park where we spend most every day. and i love you and i love the idea of our life but i do not want you, you are mad that i don't love you like you want me to and i too know how that feels, i know how it burns and aches and throbs. but i will be here as long as you want me here so until that day we can spend the endless summer walking around lowe mill and judging people's beards against jacob's, but we know they'll never hold up.


time in 18 i am a fucking different person than who i was in september. i don't even remember how that felt. i remember you mostly i just remember you smiling at me. everyone said i was unhappy and i guess i was but i don't remember how i felt as much, except towards the end. everything was always so sad in reality but in hindsight i just remember you smiling at me like a music video or when we were making out to modest mouse or when we held hands. i was with you for over a year of my life. i am 17 now. in september i will be 18 and i will not remember feeling like this. in september 80 years from now i will most likely be dead and a child will kick a can down the street, wondering if your granddaughter will call him back. you will probably be dead also. maybe she will call him back.

untitled #5 i am thinking of someone new now 4hr drive i am thinking of her in yellow dress black hair in potates pool room next weekend i am thinking of watching stupid movies i am thinking of how i might fuck it up i will fuck it up somehow i am thinking about her face lit only by television light, i staring smiling contented for a weekend for a weekend for a weekend for a weekend why is everything so doublethought about why do i worry why do i think until i find the problem in perfect the flaw in flawlessness why do i break foolproof by intricate processes of my mind why do i fuck everything up everyone over i want to drive until my car runs out of gas then sleep there you can come if you want

it's kind of hard to get over you when every "artistic" project that i spew out from the depths of my heart is inexplicably about you.

if i screamed as loud as i could maybe i could cut through your headphones in your room across town

you traced the veins along my forearm. while i played something pretty. and then i was happy. i was so happy. i’m sorry.

maybe i’ll feel better in december or in september or when i see you. whenever i see you. charlotte.

note to self:

the running water will not save you,

the covers and your bed will serve well if you mean to bide your time, guess what, everyone feels like you, as you kiss her thinking to yourself thinking of someone else saying “everyone feels like you.” everyone feels like you.


this is the end of the book. thank you.

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