If you have ever been to Denver, you would know that the altitude changes elements of nature. For instance, water comes to a boil more slowly, beer goes to your head more quickly, taking the stairs is twice as tedious as it would be at sea level, and water becomes a necessary liquid to have on hand all of the time. People seem taller here, there are less lefties, a lot of conservatives, and the occurrence of prostate cancer and multiple sclerosis are the highest in the country. The mountains are 30 minutes away or less, people drive like total idiots, and the laid-back attitude may cause you to get beat up. The weather is static, employment is optional, and procrastination pays off. If you have ever been to Denver, you would know that the altitude changes elements of nature. For instance, water comes to a boil more slowly, beer goes to your head more quickly, taking the stairs is twice as tedious as it would be at sea level, and water becomes a necessary liquid to have on hand all of the time. People seem taller here, there are fewer left-handers, an n uninteresting amount of conservatives, and the occurrence of prostate cancer and multiple sclerosis are the highest in the country. From the city, the mountains are 30 minutes away or less, people drive like total idiots, and the laid-back attitude may incidentally cause you to get beat up. The weather is static, employment is optional, and procrastination pays off… eventually. Sometimes, here in the city, we take to ourselves, laugh at ourselves, find ecstasy in chaos, and give up on giving up. 

Why does one write?
Once your number comes up, you cease brainstorming the infinite answers to this unquestion.
“Hello!” I shout to the empty classroom.
I am aware of the perimeters of my intentions; I have my phone in my hand; I have my keys in my left front pocket of my corduroys, the laminent hanging out with the neckpiece – a ritualistic ornament which psychologically reassures myself that it is safe to go home.
It is safe to let go.
It is safe to go on now.
Except for… my pen.

This is your time, well stand up and be somebody then!

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Wendy Clark<wclarkhudson@gmail.com>
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 2010 at 11:33 PM
Subjec

t: by me
To: WC Hudson <outlawsongs@yahoo.com>, Wendy Clark <wclarkhudson@gmail.com>, Wendy Clark Hudson <wclarkhudson@yahoo.com>,tqmbmusic@gmail.com

 

Briefly leave a detailed message at the sound of the tone so that I may email you my thoughts in bullets style phrases according to importance and purpose. Or you may try me on my other cell phone which is this same number but you will not get me live on the other end because I don’t have time to talk to you without going into great detail and I would like to spare myself the embarrassment of confessing my vulnerabilities unless I really thought you gave a fuck. And perhaps you are listening, and maybe it is worth it to reach out to you because I may obtain due enlightenment and I may just open my mind and the door of my heart will creak ajar, but I don’t have the time to risk my psychological puzzles on the chance that they are just riddles – not to be solved.

 

If we love by letting go… how do we learn to hate?

 

I read Dr. Scott Peck with a grain of sea salt and a mind open to the wisdom of those who love so much that they will actually write and teach and care enough to be someone who truly tries to touch random people across miles and generations, and I understand his philosophies and I grow and watch myself extend my boundaries and make choices based on love and I am the poster-child for redemption, but I struggle with loving by letting go… generally, I guess, but specifically… I can’t seem to ever let go of what I love….

 

briefly..... today's highlights from my perspective....

 

after years of sniffing odorless garlic and reading books with no words, the fork ran away with the spoon, the city sighed and feigned apathy as the Dan and i lashed out at the corporate world today but everyone called us clowns....

 

(***close yer purty eyes and imagine you see my online virtual website where i also have a special flying lesson deal running right now) 

 

i SUCK at "taboo." the friends made us dinner after a suspicious day in the eyes of the passers-by. and apparently, mel went mad and broke into the friend's old apartment and allegedly let the helium out of the balloons, filled them back up with regular air, and headed to idaho where she is wanted in several counties for scandals of the same nature - her goal is actually to figure out WHY we have a periodic table, or at least she may have mentioned that to me. then i beat her at "taboo." in fact, i think that is as accurate as possible, given the harsh reality of scientology and technologicalization and the decline of western civilization. who knew?! go figure.

 

i got me -yet another- "ironic" job today. got a 100 percent on the spanish tests which i was certain that i flunked, and they (the recruiting squadron) stamped me with an approval and called me bilingual. so it's now official. i speak for both teams.... 
Bwhahahahahahaha!!!!!!

 

"if you put things in quotes, they are bound to be "important." pretty "clever.""

 

this job is even more silly than my last one. and shame on all those people who say that getting your college education doesn't pay off!!! joke's on them, i say! living proof right here! step on up and take a good look at the great american dream! i will be seriously going to hell. i am going to slap myself in the right direction and live vicariously through the two-headed kitten i saw on CNN. cats are frickin' hilarious. especially when they have more than one head.

and

then

i made my favorite person in the world turn 13 shades of scarlet red, plans are as kooky as they appear to be to stangers on  - learned that my competitive banter can result in behavior which makes me want to relive this stupid dumbhead day all over again.

 Today

i learned (contemplation) how to reach (manipulation) new levels of awkwardness (interpretation) with delightfully, fiery, manifestations of good intentions (adoration) gone apeshit (correlation). from this i learned to recognize the beauty of chaos (self-justification); i learned how to suppress laughter just a little bit more or less (equation) on the ridiculousness  (elation) of my surroundings at any given time (duration) or place (station); suppressed laughter and anxiety (perspiration) may have some (interpolation) complex (imagination) stuff like that (education). 

***when you take a "ation" and attach it to the word, that word turns into a state of being (moderation!). 

i learned that they have a new non-emergency phone number for the police and emergency dispatchers (311) and it is nice and short just like 911. I think they may have one that is 611 for semi-emergencies but i don't want to find out till that fateful occasion rears it's partially threatening head....

 

i schemed with my friend dr. _____ and we found ourselves in clown suits delivering our interpretation of "la bamba" with a few measures of the violent femmes' song "blister in the sun" (secretly renamed "birthday fun") in C# (mostly) and successfully delivered our first singing telegram to _______ for her birthday - i feel more or less clever and clueless right now. soooo..... that's pretty.... um.... cool.... and stuff........

but i learned that being poor and talking about dirt sandwiches inspires a clownish motivation in me. send in the clowns! clowns were always evil, EVIL, EEVIILLLLL!!! to me until i stepped into that clownsuit today.... i believe that clowns need to come together and fight these stereotypes because we all have a little clown in us somewhere. i also believe that invisible daisies control our thoughts with remote controls made out of angry shadows.

listen to me now, hear me later. i have been trying to get that expression right but everyone ignores me when i say it. does that mean i am successful at communicating my issues?

i am not done here. Perhaps a photo of the rest of the story. Picture postcards.

ps. the photo thing is not working. so please do NOT read this until you receive Part I or you won't understand any of this. Comprende?

But I would like to begin again.

I wonder why I left work during the middle of lunch still.

When I realized she saw me beside the broken pieces of our clumpy jagged edges of the glass zebra, she may have been stung like a match head to the temple, that I was the one she saw there, realizing that the pieces of broken jagged clumpy

“Shut the hell up,” Jemino reminded me. The dentist hadn’t taken into account that I was thin from my recent long bout with adult chicken pox, and the prescribed medication was unlike any other I had ever.

EVER.

So I nodded and smiled then bowed slightly to my heartbroken love, then made y way out the door. I shut the massiveleadish steele thing and tried to skip unsuccessfully down the stairway to the lot.

I remember the way she saw me, and I saw her appended and she still loved me. I drank her all the time she was around me, which was a lot, and I smelled and let her saturate my own suggestion of being near her – I enjoyed enjoying, being enjoyed, enjoying being enjoyed. She had my heart, she mythically stole it, like a female Incubus, thief as she stole my love and man; I wonder why she didn’t skip class and just fuckin pick me up from serious wisdom tooth surgery.

The dentist, meanwhile was apparently talking to my friends and I occasionally nodded and was probably really druggy, I told the staff I loved them and would see them soon. Then Jemino gave my keys to my freshly exgirlfriend and I dozed while she ordered me scripts at the store.

Chasing her down Tennessee in my old Camaro, crying “GODDDD-SSSPEEEEDDD!!!” to symbolize a mailbox of great length and filled with keys, I sure as all hell was not getting the message.

I said yes to her that evening as twilight as her eyes were – I was in love, and hell, she knew it would work.

I never liked that job any way.

I saw her see me later, while I was fake knitting and fake chewing gum. She asked me which was more fun. I said seeing what makes you crack up more.

“What makes YOU crack up?”

“The fake gu because of the FTMJ?”

“Fake you!” We both laughed.

I loved her. I felt cocky then said, “Fake knitting is stupid.”

“Stupid is faking- stupid faking fakers!”

 

I want to be more than what I faked and fucked with.

I am gonna take this opportunity to please sanity and love for myself and psychological esteem and less panic and happiness and unconditional love and have more time to enjoy and learn from it, cheesy perhaps, believable, I am not selling a story here. 

Holy crap

Two has struck the hour time meter.

Toward the television set I thought you meant

Then I made my first mistake

I had a game to catch and a gig to play

And a music store to which I had to get

I had a broken string and my state of panic

Was unusually extreme

And you and the way you talked to me

WAS THE LAST THING THAT I DID NEED

I had to call my folks, the kids in Spain needed me to call

I would tell them not to worry not to think that life would be bad forever – at all

I had to fake my way through the day – and only unfaked one call

But baby, I knew I should have kept my face

Because you told me without hesitation that there was nothing to worry about at all

You told me not to be nervous

You always tell me to relax

You remind me to be calm

You tell me specifically to adhere to the facts

You simply list the reasons

The many opinions from your view

You tell me your perception

And I suppose you think I gain my perception from you?

You don't listen or notice but then why should you bother?

I'm the one with the condition

I'm the one

I'm the one

I'm the one who has to listen to you

Am I going to be able to explain to anyone that confidence isn't an option in this state

right now

Yeah I'm going to get it right

Yeah I am going to get it right

But think of where I'd be if you gave me a chance to say

I'm not alright

(When and if I am able to – I will start a panic coalition.)

A Declaration