Aputa has no last name

hitch hiking

2008-11-24T18:53:27Z

I think I've always been a little upset inside.
it might not ever matter what I remember
because, i think that stuff was always there
even before my little light got cracked.
I think my insides have always been a little upset.

i guess it kind of spins and winds back to gratitude that we don't all get what we deserve
and that stuff just comes at you like poorly strapped in kids flying off a scrambler.
because then maybe all the bad stuff was just what we had coming to us
or i would drop dead from the confusion of why i have this good stuff

I have really missed my brother lately. We talk and stuff, and if i listen i can tell how he's feeling,
most of the time,
he's been really busy and miserable lately.
I hate that he's so sad,
I wish he wasn't so sad.
He's also really stubborn though
this kind of creates a problem
I don't know what i want from him, my connection with him from a distance is just as good as my connection with him in person.
it doesn't really matter how it happens as long as it does.
I don't hongi with him like I used to,
i don't think i really need to
but i miss it,
sharing a breath.
I mean, i guess, that's how we started off together.
does that make any sense?
I keep thinking about mom.
I keep wondering if it's something i should talk about.
I don't know,
she's dead to me.
so
but
so was dad for a long time
a long long time
like, there never was an "alive" period for me.
until kind of recently
peh.
but she WAS alive to me
and then she chose to leave me.
i mean, i don't need her
so it's ok.
i doubt trying to find her would end as well
as stumbling across...i dunno, the other contributor to my kosmic khromosomes?
but Step dad was the only one around
he pulled me up from the dirt
and threw me back into it
and told me to get up
and i still say he helped.
he taught me good,
he told me about the fear,
if i wasn't careful the fear would cripple me
and then it almost did.
i didn't learn it in time.
oh wow, gotta go.
bye

little fires

2008-11-23T06:09:18Z

What makes a memory? When you can't tell what is fantasy and what is something that actually happened, how can you tell and what difference does it make to know the difference at all? I'm beginning to wonder this. Going on and on at length thinking that when i remember who i "really" am, or remember who the rest of me is, then i'll be whole. then i'll be the thing i want to be. The more I remember the more I don't feel any differently, and the more that fades in and out of consciousness the more i wonder if that's my mind trying to make a past for myself or if it even happened at all. The more this shit rises to the surface the funnier i think it all is, like, why was i freaked out about this in the first place? any amount of amnesia or whatever can't really undermine what i'm meant to be. no amount of memory or lack thereof can tell me what i'm not. If i'm going to do my thing regardless, there's a good chance i'm not gonna need memories to determine that. and who the fuck cares how i met who or how the hell i've come to love or be friends with or want to hit in the face so and so just so long as i know where i stand with any of those people right this second. so, yea, that's a load off.

Fever sleep

2008-11-10T06:19:14Z

Nice people who can see me can totally get dollars.
there are parts of us that are fragile and delicate, it's easy to forget they're there until something subtle like a wayward glance or no eye contact at all just puts a pin through the membrane and it starts a slow and and painful leak. why do I have this good thing now?i....i really, just don't want to break it.....i just want to cherish my fortune with all of my heart. it's hard to tell sometimes when i'm hurting. it's hard to say sometimes when i'm hurting. my stomach hurts real bad. I know that much. ow ow ow. the nausea just won't stop. flowers have started growing in my hair again. I can't remember the last time that happened. I remember the last time it did though i was somewhere nice. maybe i need to be in a nice place in order to have flowers. they smell nice. I'm in a nice place now. it's math. it's hard to fall asleep without listening to music. But when i do, I sleep the best.

goneagaingone @ 2008-10-22T22:57:00

2008-10-23T03:12:41Z

I woke up with a book of poems by langston hughes under my head. I must have taken it into bed with me. I keep rereading the one about the cops and the faeries. and the cops making fun of the faeries. it made me feel sad and then I wanted to throw up. the feeling passed. I spent most of the day in bed. I didn't mean to. I was really tired. I will chop extra fire wood or something later to make up for being a slack ass. Maybe i will even do it now, even though it's dark. I mean, i can see in it, i'm just scared of the dark. Maybe I can dare myself, see how much I can do before I get too scared and run back in the house and jump into the rafters. I have energy now, I didn't earlier. Maybe i'll go practice my kicks on the big tree outside. Or maybe i'll just dance around inside here. Or maybe I'll just practice my pounce ;). Excercise is excercise and i'm in a smiling mood.

I'm furry

2008-10-13T05:56:40Z

The world is not a very friendly place sometimes.
That's not really news.

I get startled very easily.
I'm scared of the dark-even though I can see in it.
I go out in the dark anyway and I'm scared the whole time I'm out there.
Oftentimes the stuff that scares me in the outside world is still preferable to the monsters I see in my dreams and the phantoms I see sometimes when I'm awake. The inside fear isn't so good for gauging my limitations in the outside world. tend toward nonexistant.

lesser of two evils maybe, or knowing who the good guys are from the bad. I haven't met any good guys in my head.
Sometimes I wonder if that makes me bad too.
I didn't always feel this way. There was a time when I was really lucid once. I knew my shit, and if I knew how to drive I probably never lost my car keys. like ever.

I have trouble remembering the rest. Trying to remember hurts and the monsters in my head that live in the cracks and the fissure in my head try to chase me away from the truth. They wear the cruelest faces so that I cry so hard I can't fight back. I'm not giving up......it's probably taking me longer though cuz I can't just be brave and tell them I don't care what they look like. They know how strong I can be, I know that's why they fight me so hard from remembering. They, them, I, me, it why don't I want to remember? Or is it that I don't remember why I would want to remember? Still, I feel like I'm still making my way back, I'm closer than I've ever been since everything broke. I remember standing between two things, I wouldn't move for one to make it's way to the other.......and it had to go through...never would have moved for it ......so it went through. and then...ow. then yea, that's when it hurts. right about there. I remember it like the way a bullet moves through a pain of glass. The only memory....was later told "all the pieces" couldn't be found to put me back together......then the greatest pain i've ever felt and it never ended and i was clawing at the walls and meowing so loud and nobody could hear me and......and i'm tired of talking about this...

I'm doing well now, I am keeping good company and eating regularly.....ish. Making stuff....you know. Maybe I'll even post again soon. I'd like to try and put more stuff down. help y'know, stay cohesive. Strengthen the old cohesion muscle. A warm bed really might be the happiest place in the world and I pray to the Gods that the monsters don't find me here.

sad lines

2007-11-07T14:08:07Z

Brother says I should be patient and just let it go.
Like giving slack to a line
But I say, "if I let it go, it will never come back"
and he says "It was never yours to begin with"
I start to cry and I say some mean things
And brother takes me in his arms and holds me for a long long time.
He's always been the good one
He finds it in his heart to love me.

come out and dance

2007-09-28T14:35:15Z

That's right, we're socializin the heathen!

goneagaingone @ 2007-09-26T00:29:00

2007-09-26T04:51:17Z

I enjoy carving bones and stones.
That rhymed. Way cool.

I took my boy to the woods to play tag and hide and go seek. This was a bad idea.
and if you think my black eye looks bad, you should see the poachers.
I kicked AYUSSSS biatch.
Maoritanga baby. Maoritanga.
Not to mention that like, I do the motherfucking shifting thing. hats off to heritage on that one.

We're leaving Brazil. Tib split like, a week ago. on another one of his quests to find himself.
Of course he could just look in the mirror and see that he's right there
but, y'know, probably better to be separate right now. Just because. Autonomy is good for him. and not being a crazy case is good for me.
And maybe we can keep this up. That would be cool.
I love my son. He rocks out. I rock out. We rock out together. And he smiles when I play Duran Duran. Fuck. Yes.

That wooden spikey swirl necklace belongs to rourin technically. But Tib and i like it too. We decided it ought to be shared. We figured, Rourin can have it, but we'll scratch our names in on the back of it. And what do the three of us have in common? the underlying unifying thingy? We all associate with/consider ourselves half breeds and shifters in some right or another. So hey. when we share it all at once, it can be a symbol for being a half breed/shifter. and when it's just his. it's just his. I like to share. do you want some seafood? See?! FOOD!

I think I might get to make a new friend. maybe I could theoretically even make the F word plural. that would be really cool. I would be really happy to make a new friend. maybe even plural

I have remembered everything that has happened in at least the last two months. holy fucking shit. perhaps this is why my love for my son has begun to grow like, expofuckinentially. I thought it would be awful to remember things. I thought it would be devastating, I didn't want to have memories. I didn't want there to be anymore awful stuff that I had to keep track of. Turns out, it helps me remember my son's smile and my brother's cooking better too.

I have no idea where I'm going. I have almost no money. I don't really care.
I have me, my son, and enough skill to keep us fed.
Let Tib have his business.
I think i'm doing ok.

this is mine and this is mine and this is mine................

2007-07-28T02:53:58Z

So. Yea. Brazil's nice. Except that we're hungry.
I'm back though. I'm gonna contribute now.
I've remembered almost everything that has happened in the last two weeks. which is a big change for my sorry ass.
The gain in what I would consider long term memory is like trying to get my sea legs again for the first time.

This broad friend of Tib's came by a few days ago though with a huge basket of food. and fish. most importantly fish.
Lady said her name was Tripp and she came by to swap food for tattoos. Which was good cuz work for tib's been hard these last two weeks. If this memory thing keeps up. maybe i could get an actual job instead of being a shitty pick pocket.

Tripp is an ok chick. I dig her. Which is to say she has my permission to be my brother's friend. which you need from me. lest you feel the wrath of my five second memory and broomstick tiaha.

Blah blah blah blah blah

My brother my brother my brother my brother blah blah blah blah blah blah none of your business.

THE END!!111!!!111!!111111

goneagaingone @ 2007-07-04T01:05:00

2007-07-04T05:06:12Z

I have a hard time making friends.

goneagaingone @ 2007-07-04T01:03:00

2007-07-04T05:04:17Z

oh my god!
i have icons!!!!
what is the meaning of this???!!!

goneagaingone @ 2007-06-15T19:30:00

2007-06-16T00:03:22Z

I miss Philadelphia. That was probably the real place I was born. undercover for years after the fact,
or maybe it just took a helluva long time for the waves to reach the shore after we threw the the big honkin rock square center in the lake of the subconscious. Tib and I weren't really born in the same place. I was always more city-centric. and my brother's just weird. I mean he was born beneath a boat off the coast of Ft. Lauderdale Florida. America's Wang.

I miss subways,
stink
and throngs of rude and arrogant people.

I miss sleeping on the tar roofs of south siders in the summers.

I have a kid now. Funny that.

Had a kid for a while,
just didn't want him until now.

rape-pregnancy-fling-pregnancy-rape-pregnancy.
Hopefully kai won't grow up to have any children.

She can't tell whether or not she wants to embrace philly or "burn the place to the motherfucking ground"
She's a very angry girl
she gives some of that anger to Tib and I and we hide it. we take it in our teeth and we put it away. we play hide and seek with it. except we don't go looking for it after it's hidden.
Pressure inside just built and built and built and built until there was nowhere left for the pressure to go. so the pressure blew through the thick of it, creating channels for the pressure to travel through. The channels were thin at first. but over time the walls got worn away, and got wider and wider and wider. and then they turned into a cat girl and a shark boy and it's a shitty wrap.

A time might come when we won't just channel pressure anymore.

Maybe there will come a time when we will channel truth
or hope
or the feeling of feet in the hot dirt stomping and stomping and slapping thighs and protruding tongues and bulging eyes.

or maybe all of the above.