08.15.08 kids of flight ("an hour in omaha and i was looking for a tornado to take me anywhere")

2008-04-14T01:27:00.004-04:00

sitting watching waiting
scenery and worlds go by at sixty five miles an hour but i am still
blasting new counting crows like minefields into my ears
we pass the austine school for the deaf
i close my eyes and suddenly i don't think i can quite understand the world anymore
two hours later i am home and ungrateful again

bentley girl in a dirt road world

i wish i could just camp out in your mind. you are brilliant.

there are worse things

2008-02-25T00:21:00.002-05:00

than being alone. there is feeling alone and when the people around you make you feel alone or make you want to be alone. misery loves nothing more than business and business is good. there are some people who just cannot be saved. they are not self medicating, they are just sad. and there is plenty to be sad about, if you think the right way. it depends on how ell you want to sleep at night. i just can't put myself to sleep at night because i hate waking up every morning. literally the worst part of every day is having to get up and face everything around you. the headaches are constant because not only is my brain always on overdrive and overworked but it is sick and tired. my thoughts are continuing to abuse it, just living each day to day is enough. i tell myself this because i don't want to be waking up every morning for her. because i don't want to be living for her. and i don't want to be thinking about dying for her. even though i know that is the case. i think differently than anyone else in this world. i know because if someone else thought this way they would understand me for me. for the sole reason of understanding and not because their brain needs misery to get off. none of this is sensible or understandable because my thoughts are ashes. they have fallen off the end of that one cigarette you smoked. they are a lover being scattered across the ocean. eternity. my head is not a machine. time has worn away at the metal and left my soul singer, sitting alone a rocking chair and a metal cage. a crowd as far as the eye can see. yes i am lost but mostly i am anxious. i worry about taking the next step because i've taken wrong ones before. i am afraid of loving you again because i've hated you before. i love blowing my thoughts off for a comfy place to sleep because i've never met a dream i didn't like. they allow me to experience things i strive for without having to deal with the consequences. my whole life has become a consequence except i am living in it and not just sitting it out.
and i talk about it like this because it seems less real that way.
there is nothing you or anyone else can do to repair the damage i've done over the past few years.
she is irreplaceable and i am fearful. it was a disaster from the start.
i wonder how deep this can cut me . i cannot stop the blade i can only wait to bleed.

i must belong somewhere

2008-02-24T01:09:00.002-05:00

i've been stuck for so long going through the same old tired motions every minute another chance to say that i am fine. spent so long convincing others of this i realize that i myself have forgotten what is real. this is real and so are the bottled up emotions of missing you and regret and displacement, that are always busy being channeled into anger and reservednesses and quiet. and i have come to realize that there is no one i can say this too outloud. the words are hurtful and they sting surprised ears, they are too much and too late. i dont know that you care enough. that are too many jokes and dropped names, they seem inconsiderate of reality. how much do you really know. telling might ruin what i've held close to me for so long. at the same time i want to burst and scream in your face that this is me and i can't help it. i want help reaching out and recovering what has been stolen from me. i am part of a machine that noone understands. they are too caught up and even when i am too i can never forget. it is the permanent backround of my mind, reminding me of my mistakes of how my life changed completely with the combination of a few minutes and a message. it all seems strange and desperate to me but there is no denying my heart. there is nothing i wouldn't do to recover from this, or to at least be able to spit it all out without having to deal with the consequences. my eyes lower and hands shake when i'm walking by because i fear that everyone sees right through me and at the same time i wish they could ever know or understand. meanwhile you are my globetrotter and i am just an object in a blank space. the laws of probability are against us. we are armless and defenseless. my mind is awake at all hours of the day thinking. its strange how two things can be together one minute and in a split second go in opposite directions for years. it is only a matter of time before these two meet again, i am fearful of this because i dont think my head can handle it. secretly i am always wishing this could happen but it won't and my stupidity and naivety will keep this in check. the reality of this continues to dismantle itself before me. piece by piece i can see that the years of facades have clouded the severity, the way this lives deep within me. the roots are far beyond my minds ability to reach, they are thriving. i know you and the mistake i made of letting you go is something i will always remember. this thought keeps my head up through countless nights and it hurts physically to even think about this. to think back years ago to how i was thinking the same way. i dont know why noone gets it, or why i dont trust anyone to. maybe because we were special or maybe because i havent let myself get as close to anyone like i was to you. not ever. yes everyone screws up but i am an artist and she is my masterpiece of disaster. all i can do to sleep is imagine a time very distant from here and pretend that it is real. it is a hurtful joke i am constantly playing on myself but it is all i really have to make it through. i am tired and miss you like hell but i'm also a fuck up and deserve everything i've gotten. all i can hope for is that my faith in you keeps you as the better person and one day puts us in the same place or allows my head to dream of such a thing.
in the meantime i'l continue to walk by. i will laugh at awkward situations and jokes that are not funny. i will agree on things that i actually do not. i will ignore the random dropping of your name.
just the sound of it repeats in my head and leaves a burnt taste in my mouth. you are incomparable in any other form besides the one that god gave you. you are safe in my head but i am not. i wonder how much longer i will last.

i don't know where you are

2008-02-19T03:47:00.001-05:00

everyone loves you isn't that enough. fight words with words .. i finally come up for air looking around it seems like everyone has changed except for me. there are certain days in february when the weather just bothers me

"welcome to the coalmine, canary"

2008-02-11T22:21:00.000-05:00

strange lessons we've learned the hard way:

Don’t run up stairs with your eyes closed

If you feel like doing something stupid, don’t do it in front of a cop car

Running up wooden stairs with socks on isn't the smartest thing in the world to do

Don’t ride bikes that are too small and have no brakes down a steep hill with a stonewall at the bottom.

Don't look down while you're pushing a cart, you'll run into something, and people around you will laugh.

Do not ride bicycles when you can't reach the brakes. Especially near rivers.

Don't use your face to catch a softball.

Don't try to impress your friends by seeing how far back from the pool edge you can go, and still dive into the water. Otherwise, you will hit your head on the edge and be rushed to the hospital where you will get staples in your head.

Check for friends/relatives of people before you go shouting about how much you hate the person.

When you're cooking macaroni and cheese, don't forget to add water before you put it in the microwave.

Don't think you can jump from a car hood to another. You will only get hurt.

Don’t talk about bitchy waitresses with the people who work in the kitchen, because they'll end up being married to the head chef whose children you're talking about.

Don’t let your friends push you in a shopping cart especially if there's a hill with an expensive car at the bottom.

Don’t run downhill in snow, you will bust your ass.

Don't eat dippin dots in hat stores.

Don't use a plastic fork to get flaming toast out of the toaster.

Every flavor jellybeans really are every flavor. Handfuls of them are bad.

Don't hold cats or pet them if you're allergic, no matter how much you like them.

Don't ride bikes down steep hills with speed bumps in the rain. Ever.

Don't tell your religious grandparents offensive Jesus jokes. No matter how funny they are.

Letting your friends ride on the hood of your car IS a bad idea.

Don't jump off a stage even though you know you can land it.

Don’t hang up Christmas lights in the rain/.

Never listen to Slipknot when your grandparents are around.

Never duck when something is being thrown at you because you might hit your head on a wall.

Don't use a metal can opener to pry a plug from an outlet.

thank you the oh nos

6 degrees could change the world

2008-02-07T02:22:00.000-05:00

"Unfortunately in life, all you can do for the people you care most about
is watch over them, you cannot make decisions for them."

a year ago today
we found that new noise is in fact meant for ears
but when there is nothing to look forward to
except the darkness of your room at night
waking up and sliding into the daily grooves
seems that much less important and bearable

thank you for the memories

"This isn't gonna be easy but I don't need you, believe me.."

2008-02-02T02:41:00.000-05:00

every morning starts with a goodbye,
the bus pulls out of the station and|
they are left with only photographs
of what just happened there
the dirt turns into a revelation ground of sorts
you're leaving for another dead end town,
another to bring to life
you understand that each show is the same
but the lines are different and so are the crowds
and i don't get why you'd want to talk to me,
there are other smiling girls,
there are others waiting, always waiting.
there are other back porches being filled with music,
they are cold and shivering for more.
i don't know what you do when you're gone,
how do the crowded rooms really feel
i think someone might begin to notice
or say something
when you go missing again and again
you may soon forget,
but the phone calls let me know
i shouldn't be waiting for them
it's not right, but i find myself every early morning,
expecting

i've gotten more calls early in the morning
about ice patches and crashes
than any other
disasters out of our control
but just the idea of us being forced apart...
brings questions about him to my mind
i don't know what is right anymore

and i just can't get that final look on your face out of my mind
but these last nights nightmares have it broken,
scraped with torn metal features

but you have walked away from this like others could not
others have not been so lucky and i can't help but be reminded
of previous years
i need to hear your voice to know that you're okay.

from the time we first met, this has been a dream stuck in the back of my mind

2008-01-31T01:04:00.000-05:00

if you want me to love you, take me to Omaha in the rain
if i asked "Could we go to the moon?",
you'd say we were already half-way there.

i'd trust you if you said we could leave this town forever
we could be anything, anywhere
so let this town break away from us
or the other way around
we'll stay up late, driving through the morning
i don't care where, i just cannot wait to leave

the best part of getting o(u)t of this place,
this private handbag to hell.. is you

run baby run

2008-01-20T05:04:00.000-05:00

"Mother used to say that it meant Christopher was a nice name
because it was a story about being kind and helpful,
but I do not want my name to mean a story about being kind and helpful.
I want my name to mean me."

wegrewupsolongago

"make a snow angel in trash on the front lawn"

2008-01-20T04:44:00.000-05:00

it's nice to see people with passion again
instead of the same old "got nothin to offer" deadbeats
beating this town to death
if only
bass lines replace heartbeats

could i be you for just one day

version 18.0

2008-01-05T01:40:00.000-05:00

i offer nothing and expect everything in return but despite this
today is your day
we've become different people,
we went in different directions
but we were cut from the same cloth
perhaps there is a future somewhere between
those threads and indifferent stitches

"celebrate we will"

new year new music

2008-01-01T06:16:00.000-05:00

put down britney spear's album and check out;;

toothpaste for dinner

2007-12-31T04:21:00.000-05:00

human beings were put on this planet for one reason

2007-12-29T04:27:00.000-05:00

and one reason only. to destroy it.

if you think your life is so perfect,
then go out and help someone else fix theirs.
join a cause. fight. volunteer.
do fucking something.

"You're a liar.."

2007-12-24T00:38:00.000-05:00

he turns to the band and says "Play fucking loud."

the holidays are strange.

cheer takes it's toll,
please have exact change.

all hearts are adjourned

2007-11-30T05:27:00.000-05:00

but please rise

-
i honestly do not care. i've put so much into nothing. this might never end.

wherever you are you'll be singing a silent lullaby to get me to sleep, it's always night, you won't think twice, you might barley recognize me. i will be humming along, but no matter what i say, it means nothing to you. we lie under different stars. i am where i am and you're where you are. i'd ask if you're alright, if you would think of me.

the world is a confusing place

2007-11-25T02:09:00.000-05:00

and there is nothing more in life that i understand less, than life itself

why do the ones admired
the ones who made it
the ones who loved life
the ones young,
full of heart
always go first

he lived life well and hard and by the book and like it was going out of style
not punk or pop or rock could categorize the memory of the life he led

he went at age 26 in his sleep, fighting and living for headphones
and arenas and car stereos
everywhere, playing anything

now looking down at the biggest stadium in the universe

because all music is family, rest in peace casey.

from the top of mount washington to the bottom of our hearts

2007-11-11T03:14:00.000-05:00

cold fingers bring words and strangers to life

11:11 wherever you are in the world know that you are everything to me
thursday you are 300 miles west, by the weekend you are 70 miles north
the reason i'm up at night and the reason i wake up each morning
it's just one night of the year, but thank you for believing, for hope
the ones who seem to be fading away at times, we are here more now than ever.
for you. for this
because we truely believe in it all
however hidden we are or however many shadows cover our tracks..
we are trailing.. behind and ahead. always. a flawless support system.
you are true love. we need you, you are home to us.
i'll go to sleep with these constant rings in my ears
and when i wake up they will remain as golden as ever.
i hope they haven't blinded you to this,
and that you can reach down somewhere into your heart to believe this to be true

does anybody deserve anything?

2007-11-05T23:19:00.000-05:00

i feel like whenever something okay or even good happens, i deserve this.
but really i don't. maybe i deserve to deserve, but i don't deserve to feel ok. not after all of this.
not after living without you.
plain
and simple
i've shut more doors than i've ever held.
some i keep open just to let the draft in.
and so i deserve to live like this.
breathing in cold, stale, dusty thoughts.
lungs are more like the old photoalbums i dont look through
so i don't keep waking up with a wet pillow.
once in a while i cough something up.
it's not what i've eaten or where i've been
it's you.
you're used and deceieved and different.
and i'm guilty.

the idea of us is so distant it's more universal than the moon could ever be.

you
are
the
sun
behind
closed
doors
sneaking
in
betwen
the
crack
in
the wall
storms of heart and world of cloud will ruin us.
dont let them follow you in, i just can't face it. not today. not ever.

me and you forever. this and us versus them.

it's the time of year that never quite sat well with me.

the road underfoot is certain to become the road behind

2007-10-12T02:27:00.000-04:00

i remember
hide and seek
on playgrounds
i remember that first fall
it feels like yesterday
not because
i recall so vividly
but more like because
there isn't much to remember
inbetween
or maybe because i wish it so
no matter how many times i go back
to that yellow rooftop
i still can only daydream myself there
ten years is just too long and dreams don't work that way

so dear you, how could i ask you to remember with me?
it would be like asking a painter to carve
or for sunshine at night because you're infact golden..

blue finger girls love the blue heart boys

2007-09-27T23:24:00.000-04:00

i once greedily said
i don't regret
god was i stupid.

kitchen chairs

2007-08-31T03:44:00.000-04:00

"shoot my veins full of old birthday cake wax."

somebody taught me English
proof as seen this room
the roof is bathing in the afterglow
night slides close to me
somewhere” cannot run
the victory march didn’t mean it
the moonlight owed me
a cry overthrew you
every breath tends to die young
you will get me
your flag is in slow motion
your faith has a bullet in the chest
your throne needed the money
i shoulda seen it
getting away getting away

and r, happy birthday

ICU's hall of fame

2007-08-28T04:48:00.000-04:00

"I could almost feel that it was going to happen, because of the way he would treat himself. I got a phone call and I knew right away what the police officer was going to tell me. I just knew. The day of his funeral, it was raining and it was strange to be raining that time of year. After the service, I went back and put my hand on the casket and kind of said goodbye. Right then, it stopped raining. The clouds blew away, and the sun came out, and it got warm. I spoke at the funeral and said that I think the one thing my dad cared about since I was born was that he wanted to raise me. I think he felt like he was done with that and had nothing else to do, so he just let go and stopped living. it's almost like it's better this way because it's what he wanted. I miss him, but I feel like everythings all right now."

FFTL >>> DDMTAHABC >> E > 2004

2007-08-22T23:54:00.000-04:00

i thought maybe i could get it together these past few months
but before i even settled into summer it’s already out the door and fading away
sorta like the day i decided i didn’t need anyone anymore

lovers like malaria. once it gets in your skin it never quite goes away

it'll stay dormant for a few years, even.

then all of the sudden..

thunderstorms could never stop me

2007-08-01T01:45:00.000-04:00

Even after all of
the heartbreak
and red bull
and smut,
all i've learned
is that hearts are always changing veloCITIES.

What do I do when someone needs help from me?
Now that the victim has become the hero, I feel even more helpless.
I wish I could say something to make her stop
to make her feel better
we're up on a stage and she's under pressure
everything is so wrong for her i can't even begin to wrap my head around it
can't even say the words
how can i say "i'm here for you, i'll support you, i'll help you, i'm sorry everything in your life is so wrong, i'm sorry they do this do you, i'm sorry it's come to this" without saying "i pity you. please get help so i don't have to deal with it."
i want to help but i dont know how
and for that i'm sorry
i'm sorry i couldn't be more than i am
in situations like this i wish i had more bite than bark.
maybe a kind word. maybe i can understand.

"Why would I want to forget you?"

thank you for grounding me.

brainstorms or rainstorms

2007-07-27T23:35:00.000-04:00

it's all the same now.

the road i am on

is broken in two.
the sun

could possibly be fading.
the last light

is inside today, inside me today.
i

am still falling.
flowers in december

are growing colder.
eyes

are all lucky in the sky.
two strangers

have something more to gain.
we

are turning into dust.
some people

are breathless, on and off again.
my mind

is under your fate.
seven swans

won’t disappear.

everything

cries, cries for you.

there is no cure for this. nothing make me forget. nothing can fix the past howevermany years.

whycan'tibenormalagain?

i dreamt that i woke up and i was seven years old again. it was a strange feeling, the happiness all over again. then i woke up but it was raining so i went back to sleep. then i woke up for real and realized how happy i would be if i could take back everything.

"the best part of believe is the lie"

2007-07-17T03:28:00.001-04:00

you can't spell adore without a&d

this is not what it's supposed to be, but very few things are.

took my brain apart these past few weeks and i'm working on it. self help is better than selfishness. daydreaming is better than dayscheming. hearts are on the line and i don't have a care. alex.ia. love me like saturdays and the concrete. once i cough up my last escuse, they'll be no more living through the smoke.

"Next time you decide to build up something beautiful, so hopeful inside me, and then break it down, do it sober."

i need more than adventure, Patronus, waiting, the american daydreamer and the pretend. i need all of you. you say i like everything about you that you hate, but that just might be the best part about love.

we draw down the white li(n)es for you to believe in. anything to elicit a holy shit

helpyourself.

"i fear that things i hate in myself are the only things you've ever loved"

2007-07-12T02:45:00.000-04:00

if you don't have a backup, you don't have a plan

this is a weigh in of mind over matter.

if you don't mind,

it doesn't matter.

"Screw California

And friends that are never there

And places that they oughta

Pretend that they even care

From a false family, she could light you up

Like a holiday tree in the summer

So lead us there

Screw California

And ice that will never melt

From hearts of the modern Children of Cicero

From a false family, she could light you up

Like a holiday tree in the summer

So lead us there."

things aren't what they used to be

it's just not cute anymore

pleasetakemehome

This is to one person. Who may or may not know who they are

2007-07-08T03:19:00.000-04:00

"life lately is just always about the spins and collateral damage.."

Inhale. (Just remember to breathe. I’ll hold your hand we’ll breathe and the dust will settle)

It’s weird talking about old closefriends. I don’t know whether to say that i loved you or that i love you.
Somewhere in-between i suppose. Despite particular personality traits you have, you were technically "there" for me during some of the worst moments of my life.
Without bringing into question the quality of "being there", you were there.
At least in my mind you were my friend at that point and just knowing that was helpful.
We don’t talk anymore. And i guess that’s what this is leading up to so here goes.
However many months ago, I was truly a wreck. (Still scanning in transit.)
Whether or not it was a pity party or worse than it seemed apparently did not matter to you.
The worst part about that was you were really all i had. "Had", I’m still saying this mentally speaking.
In my head you were there and you were yet.. I do admit I was awful to be around. I was the wettest fucking blanket in town.
I was boring. I didn't talk. I was no fun. I get it. But all the while this came under critique, you KNEW what was wrong with me.
You knew what i was hung up over/for. In hindsight, I’m wondering was it jealousy over my obsession with misery and not with dedication to you?
Or was it totally based on how shitty I was.
Despite how much I love being down on myself, I’m going to come right out and say that "shitty" isn't exactly the word.
Sad? Yes. Depressed? Definitely. Fucked up? Possibly. Mean? No. Given up? Not quite. Not a good friend? Questionable at worst.
As “crappy” and goddamnboring as I was, somehow the friend in you couldn’t be there for me.
You called it a pity party, but I’ll let you know it was a cry for help, attention, anything.
Because all I had was you, and suddenly you were disappearing in front of me.
Sure there were a few fake apologies and hugs exchanged. But we both cashed them in early.
I don’t know where exactly this is going but Bottomline.. I was a truemess, I needed you, and you slipped away.
How did that happen? Maybe I let it happen. You know I’m not one for speaking up.
But the least you could do was act on the fact that you knew I was never the kind of person to fakeshit you about anything, and sucked up how much of a wet blanket I was, and been my fucking friend like you were at one point.

This is an open letter. Phone line is there. I’d love to spend my senior year on speaking terms with you.

Please see this as one side of double-sided tape, the A side to the cassette and not something I can punch out in the stars or close the curtain on myself. This is not a room of smoke or mirrors.

I don’t know who the hell I am. I don’t know where the hell you are. We’re both lost in a sea of boomerangs and badluck. I can’t stand alone to bring us together. Just maybe..

Exhale (Watch the dust blow away before us. See the skyline in the distance, walk away with me.)
Please understand

"..there had to be an inkling in the head of neal armstrong to just stay on the moon and wait for the air to run out, besides the fact thats what we are all doing sort of in the long run only he'd have a better view."

"Apologies are all we'll ever be.."

2007-07-06T04:49:00.000-04:00

you should see me, i sleep on tile floors.

tired of being tired of being tired of being tired of being tired of being tired of being tired.

just tired of being.

tired and tried are only two letters away

its enough to make you want to pack it up and call it a day.

"i have carefully ruined every single aspect of my life. in truly new and novel ways."

xoisuppose

i miss everything.

2007-07-05T03:08:00.000-04:00

so fucking tired of life.

here i sit with your old sweatshirt in my lap.

and just the idea is so fucking old and overused,

but everything is old and overused.

my future is just something the past dragged in on its way out.

here to stay.

busy bees between bathrooms.

from the tile floor to the toliet handle to the walls.

He tells me not to cry and I tell him it's hard not to.

i am bi polar. i am schizophrenic.

i am anxious. i am depressed.

i am painless. i am a hot mess.

some things never get better.

prescribe me.

fix me.

"you can truly think yourself to pieces..."

the nightmares have turned deadly.

i am forced to push away the mental images where the body isn't some jane doe,

but myself,

disfigured,

humiliated,

dead.

addressing things i do not wish to address

2007-07-04T02:52:00.000-04:00

yet: i always have the feeling i need to explain myself. but i dont owe anything to anyone. so i wont fucking explain cause i dont want to. that should be enough of a reason for you. just like how you dragged me through your shit for an entire year and expected me to stay for another round. yeah fucking right. yet here i am. you got me. so maybe you're slightly fucked, and maybe i am too. maybe it's a little weird how our pieces fit together so nicely. it's nice, comforting, it's love. but i'm thinking.. what if that's not enough?

“if any of you are inclined to pray, now would be a good time.”

People think cities are this strong thing. All brick and all cement. But they’re actually one of the most fragile. It’s all the trust that holds them together. there is too much trust. And where there is trust, there is fracture. The cuts run as deep as the sewer lines.

please make together sound more appealing,

i'll be here between the lines

no one quite gets it

and tell the world i can't get to the phone.

This is still nice, in a way, like a secret tucked away

2007-07-03T03:14:00.000-04:00

"i fucking hate this sugar free low carb diet world. i want the wild fucking west. i want love in handcuffs. i want more scars. i dont want this fucking future. meth bake sales to lower global warming. sweat shop work to burn calories. i hope this ship burns before it sinks. i hope this planes air goes bad before it crashes. i dont want this to be an affair anymore, i want to walk down the aisle with catastrophe. lets go to hell just for the weekend. your happiness is making me miserable. waste the time of my life. and if that mocking bird wont sing, im gonna buy you a diamond ring."

sometimes in the black of night i can trick myself into thinking youre a secret

that here and there are just ignored places inbetween

but they aren't.

at least we can say we tried. at least we can say "well we used to.."

maybe it's just you or the heat, but either way i'm sweating it out on tile floors

things aren't what they used to be

it's just not cute anymore

please listen, even if it hurts

2007-07-02T02:33:00.000-04:00

it's hard to know what parts of life you want to remember or forget

sometimes forgetting is put into overdrive

your mind is forced to weave through the stock pile of stowaways

and suddenly you see that you've forgotten someone you once loved

wait wait rewind

how could i ever forget you

our past is scattered over oceans like one day we will be

suddenly everything you've ever wished to be forgotten,

everything you cried over trying to forget, is important

your past

because somehow somehow those pieces need to be put back together

the worst part is we subconsciously store or discard.

i wonder if the signs we've been looking for are hidden somewhere in these decisions..

we can only hope that one day everything will be either forgotten or remembered for the right reasons.

i could settle there. like the pioneers did long ago.

2007-06-30T03:02:00.000-04:00

old hearts find comfort in promises. there is a feeling of safety in promises, i can't quite put my finger on it. they're warm and comforting and just deep enough to crawl into. i'll just hang out here for a while, tell the world i've found a new home. safety is another weird thing. safety isn't seatbelts or condoms or tucked in at night. safety is when your mom locks the car doors when you drive through bad neighborhoods. safety is feeling small and insignifiant to the world, even if it's just for a second. everything seems to disappear. and in that second, you could swear you felt ok and like the pieces were beginning to make sense/fit together. so stay safe, because if you live in the past like i do.. it's all that you have. even when the last page of crumpled paper hits the floor, things seem worth remembering and storing away in safe places. none of this makes sense but neither does anything else. might as well match. my sunglasses match the cocaine tray, and i'm so l.a. there are fingerprints of ideas mapped out on hips and foreheads and lips, you just have to have the right equiptment to grab them.

and as edge of the world disappears in your eyes on the walk home, suddenly everything in the universe is a united front, shining bright and saving smiles for you. your arms are outstretched - reaching for anyone, something, anything. and almost on que the dreams in the air are consumable and practical and swallowed down quickly like shots of liquid crsytal. the words and stages and microphones and curtain pulls travel thick and smooth down your throat to finally settle warmly coating your insides and only bringing comfort to the ones you almost coughed up.

you got the best of me and i've got the best of the rain

2007-06-29T02:01:00.000-04:00

Just sort of laid down next to a pillow and opened both of my windows. the window sill got wet from the downpour but its ok because next to pillows and in the rain is when I feel safest. If this seems crazy blame it on the acid raid. [Monteray purple, whatever.]

I remember the perfect first day of summer. That doesn’t mean I can’t forget.
“Don’t stop.” or “Don’t. Stop.” She's jealous like him but she needs it more. I could go to any bay side in any town because these are my best friends. One is a map and the other is a gas pedal.

Rainstormtrooperslighteningloversthunderbabies. Little streams on side roads and wet leaves sticking to sidewalks all across middle america. Little town on the coast of nowhere. Say hello to messy streets. Bare feet. Grease stain pavement stain oil stain gum stain. Swirl baby let the rain come. rainbow gutters. Running from stores in time with the rain. green dress soaked through. Hair sticking to foreheads and hands slipping together. Wet enough to put the cart away. And no one knows. Cutting letters trimming hours. Calculated hands to hold. Demise.

I’ve walked all over town following the same calculated stars and I’ve got the scars to prove it baby.

The cameras off but I can guarantee there’s a choir and affiliated orchestra always waiting in the next room.

You don’t believe me when I say I’ve seen twlight at 7 am. Somewhere between my windows and the coast there’s a searchlight and it’s reflecting everything perfectly. Back to me back to you. It’s twilight somewhere. There are hands being held in front of sunsets somewhere. There are speeding cars and 101s to drive across somewhere. There are oceans and oysters and people who give a fuck. But what have I got to give. We are from different generations. You say Saturday I say shatterday.

Everytime I see you there is another reason for me not to trust you. And when it’s finally time – when the searchlights are finding themselves and the streetlights are waiting for us and the stop signs are running - it doesn’t matter. Because it’s mayday and the streets are all closed. And don’t forget the about rain.

I havent been around lately. Mostly because I’ve been focusing more on the real than the pretend. Been using pen and paper. Real ink for poetic fingertips. Except not. Writing stories is difficult because I always think of the ending first. I’ve been tolding I’m a million different endings. I think that made sense at one point. Perhaps with a glass of red wine on the night before summer. Perhaps in ghost towns with all the awols and pretenders, the addicts and pushers. Western fever. Anyways been writing a lot trying to do stuff I actually like doing which this is just about it. That’ll get me far. Wasted pages and pages to throw them out never look back not looking forward either. I don’t know where I am. Sometimes I feel like everything comes down to breadcrumbs and away messages and cold fingers. But since when has the way I feel ever mattered to anyone before. I’ll be waitin for your call. Youwereoncelikemenowyouareatpeace.

There is something called the fuck it abyss and there are a few people left who can pull me from it. Reach outside the box the hands will pull you up. There are very few strong things left in this world, the hands that will hold you are one of the few.

Enough about the rain let’s talk about sects.

the truth is strange and chaotic

2007-06-17T15:27:00.000-04:00

We are (if anything) creatures of habit Drawn to the safety and the comfort of the similar. But what happens when the familiar becomes unsafe? When the fear that we’ve been desperately trying to avoid, finds us where we live?

one day the world will blow up into a million fucking pieces and finally everything will be at peace

i never understood inspiration. or where mine once came from or where any of it even begins to begin but it's gone now and i'm in a slump here more than ever. i've sat in front of white monitors and empty lines for hours
ended up with nothing.

curiosity killed the cat but "what did loyalty ever get the dog?"

this feels new because not much is worth remembering .

i dont mean to be addicted to it all . never meant to drag you down or convince you that it was ok. please keep the search party going however because suddenly the days are long and the conversations are minefields. just because i breathe, eat, sleep, drink, piss burdens doesn't mean that you should know that i think about it that way. guilt by association. i guess this is me saying thank you for always being there. i find comfort in the shallowness of our world. emptiness of words and screens and wealth being only numbers.

knowing that ther aren't inspectors in glass towers behind clipboards peering down and checking up on us.