Mama Pajama

Trees are alive with color but they are dying on the inside.

It was so cold you see your breath in the air, and it was amazing to just be back home.

Give me the cold and wet northeast, you can keep the rest. Give me cold autumns and real halloween. Give me apples and pumpkin carving. I'v seen what the rest of the country has to offer and believe me brother it ain't got anything on my home sweet home.

Small talk is for small minds. Let's not fake the obvious, you don't care about a thing I'v told you ever. Cause I know if you did, you wouldn't ask me the same questions over and over again about things I'v told you a million times before.

"It's Hard to eat shit, without having Visions."

Even Ghosts get home sick. Sometimes I'm sure they get tried of haunting.

More and more each day, we surround ourselves with the trivial. Where's it gonna get you being trivial?

If I said I'm sorry to every heart I ever broke, my voice would be lost till I had gone gray.

I had someone ask me why I do the things I do. The best response I could give him was life's for living.

I'm excited to grow old. I wanna see what happens next.

Damaged, aren't we all?

She walked through the door with tears in her eyes. I can tell right away things haven't changed since I left. Wondering to myself, what could it be that this sweet lady did to deserve all this madness?

Her relationship is in shambles. Her family situation is destroyed. She honestly has nothing left.

To say she is at her wits end would be the understatement of the decade. So torn up inside, how she keeps herself from falling apart is nothing short of a miracle. A steady intake of antidepressants and coffee keep her from falling over daily.

So strange to see someone as fucked up as you are, but for entirely different reasons. You know you've been through hell. Seen you're fair share of blood and guts and doom and gloom. But so has this sweet little lady.

I offer her no words of comfort. No words need be spoken right now. I give my shoulder and embrace. I want to whisper everything is going to be alright, but we both know its all bullshit.

I let her weep. For now this is all I can offer. It comes to me all at once standing there:

Damaged, aren't we all?

Radio Metal Days

I remember the days when I was in high school and I listened to stoner metal. I had dabbled in hardcore and punk but my jams were always radio metal and the like. My best friend Jimmy and I would always skip out on the last few periods and hop in his busted civic and hit the back roads.

CKY would be blasting through the speakers while we smoked weed out of apples or oranges or whatever we had stolen that would do the job. Hours would pass and we would laugh and sing our songs till it was time to skate. A few more hits and a few more riffs and our night was on.

It's mid fall. The leafs are in full color swing and the sky is an overcast gray. Me and Jimmy are already out the front door. The cool air smashes my skin and I zip my black hoodie up and we are off and running. Before we are even out of the parking lot, some nu metal band is playing on the CD player and I'm rolling a joint.

We drove forever that day. Nowhere in particular really. Seeing as how we were both broke and with no real need to be anyplace we decided that a tour of our small town would be good enough today. As we drove on and on we realized that the more we saw, the less we liked. Sometimes, when you have nothing better to do you start to see the dirty bits of the place you live. The bums that wander the streets. The lack of trees. The smell of everything. It really brought us down. I told my self on that fall afternoon that I'd get out of here. I won't be stuck going backwards in this place. I feel suffocated enough already. Once I have a means, I told Jimmy, I'm outta here. I knew he felt the same way I did and I knew then we would get outta here together.

As the years went by and my high school career ended, I'd did as much as I could to see the world. I went to England, went on tour with a band, took a few vacations. All of which I did before I decided it was time to leave. But now here I am. On the eve of making the biggest change and choice in my entire life, and all I can think about are those fall evenings listening to music and driving. When nothing mattered and talking about the future was like dreaming for real.

I stopped listening to radio metal years ago now. I stopped smoking weed. I started listening to different things. I started doing the things that made me happy. I also stopped hanging out with Jimmy. I see him every so often. Out at the bar or in pictures I see online. He hasn't stopped any of the things we did in high school. Which, of corse, is his deal. But it makes me sad to see him and not living the dreams we both talked about. I know once I leave, I may never see him again, but me and him had the times of our lives then. To a sound track of chuggy riffs and cheesy chorus lines. To a gray sky line and rainbow pallet of fallen leafs.

I wouldn't trade those days for anything.

Office Visits

I haven't seen a doctor in years. But I know exactly what he would tell me.

“Your going to die some day.”

I know Doc. There are a million different things out there trying to kill me: Cancer, blood parasites, Fire, Bees, Dogs, stray bullets, the list goes on.

I don't plan on getting sick like everyone else. I don't intend to get addicted to pain killers and treatments that make me question daily life.

I m okay with whatever happens to me doctor. You'll be seeing me at some point down the road I'm sure. But not today or tomorrow.

Life's for living, not for worry.

Cereal

I was thinking, maybe, you'd like to share a bowl of cereal with me? Just one bowl, or two. It's up to you really.

I know it sounds silly. I know it must sound completely ridiculous. But I know you share a love of cereal like I do, and seeing as how as I m just a broke writer and can't afford to take you to the places you wanna go right now, the best I can do is this big bowl of grain that we both love.

No matter what brand you like, even if its not my pomegranate blueberry, I'll go and get some right now.

Cause all I'v wanted was to share a bowl of cereal with you since the day we first met.

Heat and Madness

My feet are hanging off the bed again. The covers and sheets are askew, completely useless on a scorching night like tonight. It's long past midnight and it's still close to 90. I would trade this pillow and this box spring for a pool of water right now, anything cool and calm will do.

In between the tossing and turning, I lose all hope of rest. There's absolutely no chance of that tonight. The way sheets cling to any piece of exposed skin like a sort of weak glue hinders all form of comfort.

This heat wave has been relentless for the better part of two weeks now, and it shows no signs of letting up. I crawl out of bed to fetch a glass of water, juice, wine.... Anything that will cool me down! I beg for relief!

As I lumber about my room looking for something to cover myself with, I quit looking outright. I could careless at this point if anyone saw me in the bare, they would understand.

After retrieving a tall glass of water I find my way to the couch. In between surfing channels on late night TV, I nod off, truly exhausted. Thinking back now, I can't be sure if I was dreaming or if I was purely hallucinating from my heat delirium. Chasing a girl down a long hallway, she quickly turns to make sure I m keeping up with her.

I can hear Ambient sounds and music playing. The light is low in this forever hallway. Flashes of her face. She comes to a door and goes over the threshold. By the time I'm there, the door has closed and I m nervous about opening it. I reach for the knob only for the door to open before me.

Standing there she says, stay with me tonight. As she takes my hand, I turn to look back down the hall. I see nothing but the walls and I hear nothing but music I can't make out entirely. The light is weak, I can't see the end of the hall, it fades to black just a few feet beyond the threshold.

As the door closes and I hear is click, I wake up. Still couch bound. Still surrounded by heat. Confusion sets in as I reserve myself to analyzing my dream. What did it mean? What do they ever mean?

As I switch the TV off, the weather man is heard. "Another hot one out there for today, stay cool."

I m at my wits end weather man, I could use a break. So for my five day forecast, I respectfully request you make that dream happen. I don't ask much of you weather man, and you've always done well.

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe we're all crazy. One thing is certain, it's only getting hotter, and it's only driving me closer to madness.

Goodbye August!

Goodbye August! Goodbye Summer sun!

Goodbye to the long nights full of stories and music played out underneath a full moon. Goodbye to another Indian Summer that creeps a little longer into the fall. Goodbye to the thoughtful bike rides across sweltering hill town back roads. Goodbye to the blazing sun sets that seemed to crash on the horizon for forever.

Goodbye August Goodbye!

I will miss you August. I will miss our long talks about nothing in particular spoken to no one reasonable. I will miss the times where we should have gone to bed early but stayed out a little too late for our own good. I will miss our mornings where we watched the sun rise over the eastern mountains. Cause you and I both know you haven't really seen the world till you've seen it when the sun first casts its shadows on the Earth.

Goodbye August, My dear friend August! I will see you again in a year, far too long for my liking but that is just the way of things. For now let us share a toast to us and the memories we made this time around. Before you know it we will be together again under a cloudless blue sky, were I will tell you all my new stories and you can just listen. Play your music of soft breezes carrying the songs of the crickets to me. In do time my friend, we will be together again.

Tears

Why do you cry I asked her. Her eyes already welling up with tears again. I take my hand and rub away some the damp sadness that's left on her soft face.

Seeing her cry like this kills me. Knowing that something said or some action has caused her to break down has the same affect on me. I feel totally crushed.

After she calmed down and told me what had happened, all I could do was hold her.

I told her the truth: there are no words of comfort I can say to make that thing undone. But I let her know that it'll all be ok, I m here to take care of her. That's all I ever really wanted.

We stayed there another moment as she wept into my t-shirt. I didn't mind.

Keep Calling

I v been called many things as of late. Writer. Poet. Artist. Photographer. That boy with the tattoos. That boy with the ears. The list goes on.

But all I ever really wanted to be called was only one thing: always yours.

Deep ressions

Some how during the night you got up to close the shades in your room. One would think, how sad, he went and made his room completely dark. But they don't know do they.

Seeing as the shades being closed means that at some point during the night you got up from bed and closed them. Which, aside from relieving yourself and getting the occasional glass of water, is the most moves you've made in the better part of a week.

That's the funny thing about bouts with depression. Small victories even in the sense of moving around are enough to perk you up just a tad.

Taking stock of the current scene that is this room, you see a bed, clothes, a television, and a few empty drinking glasses. The bed, which you are still currently laying in, is disheveled to say the least. The fitted sheet lost hold on the upper corners of the mattress somewhere around 72 hours ago. You Haven't really bothered to replace it. The covers themselves change position often. Never really returning to a place remotely considered exceptable. One or more of the pillows have been discarded to the floor.

The clothes pile consists of mostly dirty laundry. Recalling the last time they saw the inside of the washing machine is difficult at best. Worn once and then discarded. After a few days, you pick up that very same shirt, give it the "I'm gonna smell this and if it's not bad I'm gonna wear it" test.

The tv itself was unplugged days ago. Not really interested in what it had to tell you, you decided it's be better off without electricity. Besides, it was too bright in the middle of night if you left it on. Always blinded when you couldn't fall back asleep.

As for the empty glasses: they should be pretty self-explanatory. A few bottles of wine needed the company of good glassware. But now, all the wine has up and disappeared and the glasses serve no purpose. The thought of washing them has crossed your mind, but all things considered what's the point?

On top of the current situation, you've missed three days of work. Which, you don't really mind. But on the other hand you feel shitty for leaving your coworkers hanging. It's not their fault your sad or depressed or lazy or whateveritisyouthinkiswrong. They suffer your work load while you just lay about in your batcave of a room for days on end.

To put the cherry on top of this banana split, if you were to be asked why your so depressed, the only answer you could give them is: I don't know.

The list goes on and on, scan through the rolodex of past life scaring moments that you fake smiled your way through. Telling yourself, everything will be alright. It'll all work out.

But you know what you found out laying here all this time? That most of the time it won't be alright. It'll actually be completely fucked for a long time. There isn't a lie in the world you would believe in this instance to make everything ok. That's just how it is sometimes though, you get so sad so crushed that it all makes sense.

This is the cycle you deal with. Every so often you break down. Probably not the healthiest way to get through these things, but that's how it is. It all gets better in the end.

Once you do realize it will be ok, it will be alright, even as fucked as it could be; you'll make it out alive. Outta this bed. Outta these clothes. Outta these bottles. Outta this room.

Everything is alright, and you'll be ok.

Of Being Brave.

Time to dive head first into the cask again. A appointment later in the evening is calling for something of the red verity. Before it gets too late I stop by the local liquor store to obtain a bottle.

While Searching the racks upon racks of merlots and the Shiraz, I hear from the register near the front of the store a question. A simple can I help you find anything sort of question. I look up to give the generic no thank you quick response and small head shake. It only took a moment but I locked eyes with her, completely prepared to submit my answer.

The problem was locking eyes with her. A pair of the bluest eyes peering right at me. Almost right through me. I stammered out something weak. I lost all train of thought. Formulating a sentence in my head, I take my time just to take in as much of this person as I possible can. Her blondish hair cascading down to her exposed shoulders. Seeing as she was wearing a pink tank top, I could see her clavicle and where it intersected her neck line. Tiny freckles are misplaced around her cheek bones.

She must have caught on to what I was thinking because she smiled at me. Red handed. She knew what was running through my head I bet. What a fool I must look like.

Snatching up a random bottle of yellow tail, I make my way to counter. Not even bothering to look at what I actually picked up, I didn't really care at this point. Pulling my self together, I muster up my manly confidence. Why not? What's a boy got to lose?

I ask her if I can be frank with her, to which she smoothly responded with: you sure can sir. I tell her that she has the most amazingly beautiful blue eyes this young man has ever seen. I tell her that she took my breath away almost the moment I set eyes on her. I compliment her choice in style and ask what a pretty girl such as herself is doing in a place like this. All the general lines, nothing to creepy, however, altogether honest.

She tells me that shes only here for the summer visiting family, and she needed some spending cash. She then tells me I must be a brave boy for being a forward as I am. Then she kindly thanks me for all the compliments. I blush for the first time sense I can't remember when.

I apologize to her if I seem strange, but I had to let her know these things. As she rings me up and prints my receipt, she smiles again and laughs. She quickly flips the paper transaction over and jots something down. Another custom enters through door and asks for some help in collections room. She hands me my receipt, her finger rubs mine just a bit longer than unintentional contact. Leaving to attend to the other man, I unfold the message to see what she has scribbled.

The message is short. The message is direct. A telephone number and a sentence that reads: The store closes at 11, call me.....

The best advice I'll ever give.

There's gonna come a time in your life where your gonna stop yourself and say: Am I really doing the things I want to do?

You may not like the answer you know to be the honest truth, but you made your own bed didn't you.

Don't you compromise with a vice. Don't you ever dare tell yourself you'll start tomorrow.

Go. Get up. Do that thing you want to do the most right now. Start Today.

Take a picture. Write a song. Make a friend. Sing your heart out to a complete group of strangers. Fall in love.

You could have it all, everything you ever wanted, right now. Stop reading this. Close your laptop. Stop texting. Hang up the phone. Turn off the TV. Lock your door on the way out.

Cause when it's all said and done are you gonna wanna have your regrets in the company you keep at the end of the day, or the memory of being there when you realized what it's like to be alive?

Heat and The Madness

My feet are hanging off the bed again. The covers and sheets are askew, completely useless on a scorching night like tonight. It's long past midnight and it's still close to 90. I would trade this pillow and this box spring for a pool of water right now, anything cool and calm will do.

In between the tossing and turning, I lose all hope of rest. There's absolutely no chance of that tonight. The way sheets cling to any piece of exposed skin like a sort of weak glue hinders all form of comfort.

This heat wave has been relentless for the better part of two weeks now, and it shows no signs of letting up. I crawl out of bed to fetch a glass of water, juice, wine.... Anything that will cool me down! I beg for relief!

As I lumber about my room looking for something to cover myself with, I quit looking outright. I could careless at this point if anyone saw me in the bare, they would understand.

After retrieving a tall glass of water I find my way to the couch. In between surfing channels on late night TV, I nod off, truly exhausted. Thinking back now, I can't be sure if I was dreaming or if I was purely hallucinating from my heat delirium. Chasing a girl down a long hallway, she quickly turns to make sure I m keeping up with her.

I can hear Ambient sounds and music playing. The light is low in this forever hallway. Flashes of her face. She comes to a door and goes over the threshold. By the time I'm there, the door has closed and I m nervous about opening it. I reach for the knob only for the door to open before me.

Standing there she says, stay with me tonight. As she takes my hand, I turn to look back down the hall. I see nothing but the walls and I hear nothing but music I can't make out entirely. The light is weak, I can't see the end of the hall, it fades to black just a few feet beyond the threshold.

As the door closes and I hear is click, I wake up. Still couch bound. Still surrounded by heat. Confusion sets in as I reserve myself to analyzing my dream. What did it mean? What do they ever mean?

As I switch the TV off, the weather man is heard. "Another hot one out there for today, stay cool."

I m at my wits end weather man, I could use a break. So for my five day forecast, I respectfully request you make that dream happen. I don't ask much of you weather man, and you've always done well.

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe we're all crazy. One thing is certain, it's only getting hotter, and it's only driving me closer to madness

thoughts of youknowwho

If i say something profound and charming, something totally honest and true, i d ask you to stay.

These nights here and there are strange. Strange places filled with strange people. I'm unsure who it trustworthy and faking. I m quite sure all these strangers are lying, just to make friends or to shake my hand for some stranger reasoning.

I keep looking for exits. I keep faking bathroom breaks. They keep coming though. "Oh! you can't leave sir!" "You can't go home now, its far too early!" I need to escape this mob. I need to be rescued.

I finally make my get away from this torture. Back to home. Back to my nights I know. I send the text that You answered promptly with "be right over." I wish I could tell you I cleaned my self up, changed my clothes and took off my socks, but I didn't. I couldn't do those things. Instead I wait patiently on my back stairs for you arrive. "You took your time" I tell her. Her eyes are hazy and tired, signs she was very much asleep before I texted her. "well, I didn't want you to think I was rushing over here boy." she said to me with a smile. "I like making you wait."

I m not sure how long we kissed for, but it was long enough for the bugs to notice we were there. Under a moonless sky we ran back to the house for safety.

Most of the clothing was off by the time we got to the bed. These things happen I suppose.

Afterwords, we chatted about how our days were. How many cups of coffee we drank, how many stories I told. Each topic was just a way of dodging the question that was on my mind from the start. The one I wanted to ask right from the get go.

You see, she was leaving. Moving far far away to start a new life with her boy, her real boy. I was nothing more than the other man. But it was all my fault from the start. It was also my fault that I fell in love. Which her leaving would be a problem for me you see. So I ask the question: "Is there anything I can do or say that can make you stay?"

She gave me reasons. All valid. All true. All of them I didn't want to hear. So I did the one thing I had to, I said "if i say something profound and charming, something totally honest and true, i d ask you to stay. Your the love of my life and all I want is to take care of you." Pausing slightly, not for effect but for formulating the words I was about to say. "I want you to be here with me, making art and cooking food, reading books and complimenting each other on our great taste in fashion." I told her everything. It was me at my most honest. It may have been me at my very best.

She left the other day. Moving on to bigger and better. My heart mended eventually. It's rough to think about, however, that I was in love. I'v never been in love before. I enjoyed it for sure, but It'll be hard to find someone else to feel the way I did with her.

So now I mingle with the strangers again. I still look for the exit. I still look for rescue. But what I look for most of all, is her.

If i say something profound and charming, something totally honest and true, i d ask you to stay. Just stay with me here. Everything's gonna be alright.

Lonely summer roads

I could have stayed home. I could have just watched the same shit thats on the TV in the afternoon. I could have also delved deeper into my growing wasabi almond addiction. I could have done all of these things, but instead I decided to take my old petal bike out for a ride.

I took the time to check the tires and the pressure they maintained, looked at how rusty the chain seemed to have gotten since the last time we saw each other. Adjusted the seat and even fixed my reflectors. Before I knew it, we were off.

From the drive way to the main road, from the road to the side streets, I made my way to the back roads I used to ride to clear my head. Back before I had the use of a car and before I got too busy to do such things. Before I took summer bike rides for granted.

Here were are again. These Lonely Summer Roads I know like the back of my hands. I remember each bump and pot hole like I remember where each freckle and bruise is on my arm. In this place, the cars past by slow and infrequent. If you were to hold your breath in between passing traffic, you'd surely soffocate. Not that your not complaining about the lack of company. A break from the creeps and the crazies even for an hour long bike cruise is a vacation.

A few stops here and There to snap some photos and smell the flowers. This road and the setting sun are the company I keep for now. My iphone is playing death cab and kevin devine. The hills roll and fall flat. My mind wanders from topic to topic.

Everything, all at once for now at the very least, is calm and quite. I m not worried right now about the things that weigh heavy, I m thinking about the summer sun. I'm thinking about how I'm getting out of tip top shape and I could really care less. About how great the world in this moment.

All because I took those lonely summer roads tonight as far as they would take me. I'll rest easy, I'll take my time. I'll take time to make love and do all the things I want to do. Summer oh! Summer: This is the time of our lives, all you have to do is live it. Take it from me, maybe you should take the lonely road? maybe the longer drive back home at the very least.

So I see the sun setting and I head home. The same crap is on the TV, the dishes aren't done, and I can feel those wasabi almonds calling my name behind the cabinet door. But It doesn't really matter to me, I have everything I need anyway.

A retrospective

Here I am again. It's night time, and I'm in bed. But not my bed, or even a night time from my home town. I'm in a guest bed in the vacation home of someone else. This night, isn't very much at all like the ones back home.
The smell of salt coming of the ocean. The infrequent sound of a fishing boats horn blowing off in the distance. The cool breeze off the water.

It's far too quite hear for my ears. I need the sound of passing traffic in the middle of the night. Or the roar of a airplane from the airport. Even the snores from my father if he's had a fight with his girlfriend and is crashing in the spare room will do.

I always wanted more time to think. And out here, I have plenty of time to do just that. But, now that I have all this time and all these thoughts running through my head, I just wanna be asleep someplace familiar.

I had such big plans, but had to put them on the back burner. I traded lofty ideas for some lofty new ones. This retrospective vacation seems to be pulling me in the new direction I was looking for.

I found clarity on the ocean breeze, and I will ride that wave All the way home.

bad vibes and good times

Dreams are funny things. They can be visions of the future. They could be memories of times long since past. They can be the cold and dark type that hid in the back of your mind.

I had a dream the other day. Amidst an late afternoon nap that suddenly crept up on me, Laying on the couch with a book resting on my shirt, this dream shook me. Shook me something fierce.

I see flashes of a lover. One that I had loved very much, and had since reconciled to the fact we were never to be. I had thought of her recently. How she was doing, What she was up too, those sorts of things. But this dream brought back memories of last summer. The great things we talked about and the moments we shared. The dream seemed like it lasted for ever, but in reality, it last but a few minutes. No one part particular stands out, but the dream on the whole really put me in a weird place. When I awoke, I had a feeling of dread and emptiness. A cold sweet and my heart pounding. I hadn't texted her in a very long time but I had to, just to make sure everything was alright.

which it was. she was totally fine. The whole rest of the day however I felt off. Why now of all the times to have something like that fly into my brain?

Dreams can be funny things. Even though this particular one brought back memories that are now painful, I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

So now, I drift. Off to bed my good man! The day will be here before you know it and you must rise! I wonder as my eyelids close and breathing slows what tonight will bring. I won't be ready that's for certain. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Although, a dream involving a sunny beach and pretty girl wouldn't hurt. justsayin. justsayin.

the have's and have not's

The Selfish shall suffer the Selfless. Taking stock of the things you hold close, is it what you own? Or is it cherished moments of friendship and memories?

the selfish shall suffer. you will suffer me.

Never the things you have.

We can read every book thats ever been written. We can see every picture thats ever been taken. We can listen to every note played.We can invest all the time in the world.

But it all won't amount to shit if you never go out there and do those things you hold in high regard.

where's the point of satisfaction when all you have to be satisfied is the papers your life is printed?

Too much too see with your own eyes, too much to do with your hands and your feet.

Satisfactions in your heart, not the money in your hand.

maybe just maybe

Maybe instead of saying we want something, we say i'd like to enjoy.

Maybe instead of cultivating, we shared.

maybe instead of taking. we only asked.

maybe all we ever have to do is ask?

Scribbles on notes found in my room

I've Always aspired to do many things. Seems all I was ever good at was aspiring.

I never know what to call my writings. Is it Poetry? Are they moments of prose? essays maybe? who knows, who cares really. Call them all what you want. In the end, I'll call it therapy, and I will be thankful for that.

"She's just eccentric." that's just a nice way of saying she's a crazy bitch.

I'm slowly losing my mind, which I'm ok with. I'm just not sure how much more mind I have left to lose.

I wonder if the man in the moon gets hungry and lonely. Somedays I think me and the man in the moon w0uld get along just fine.

You aren't as cold and alone as you might think boyo. You've loved once, and that means your still alive. Things aren't as bad as you might think, cause being alive and loving is pretty sweet.

This bed is much too big. I share it with my oversized throw pillow and nightmares. one side always cold like the planet pluto, too far from the warmth of everything to be saved. I might be the sun in this bedroom solar system, but i wish i had a third planet to share it with.

I think this place is haunted. I d like to meet a ghost. I bet he or she would have a hell of story to tell. Maybe i could tell them it'll all be ok, things here are alright. Can i save someones life, even after their dead?

I could write six pages on billy the butcher. i could write 30 pages on darth vader. I can't write one about me.


Eveidently, I have a whole lot to say. I have pages and pages of these notes left about in my notebook. maybe someday i'll sort through them all. this one i found has been my favorite:

The names have been changed to protect identity. But you all know who you are.

conflict

Today I thought of trimming the beard short. Its getting a little long in the fur (pun intended). Its difficult to stand and face down the world and say: I AM WHAT I AM! AND THATS ALL THAT I AM!

that might sound silly to most, but consider this: going against the norms of society has never been easy. Their are many out there who say to me "Dude, when you gonna shave that shit?" or "you look like fucking bum man."

Being original and real with yourself comes at a cost. We've all been in that place. Being the stereotype. Being the outcast. It never ends. The price we pay to be individuals weighs heavy.

I did not trim the barnacle. I chose to be existential. Never been one to compromise.

I wish not to be feared. I wish not to be liked by all. I wish not to center of attention. These things add up to nothing in the face of the one thing that's more important: Knowing I m me for me.

and no ladies, I wont shave it till i m ready to. so don't ask. :)

to her own reflection

my bones crack and become frail. My blood is as thick as oil. My arteries and veins collapsed a long time ago.

My brain still sparks and thinks. My lungs still take in the stale air of this town. The eyes take in the pictures and proceed to document.

Half-dead or half alive? one cannot be both. Forever torn apart, between the daylight and the dark. The struggle between optimism and negativity still rages.

one cannot be both. rinse and repeat.

you meet people who you can tell right away what type of person they are. half and half either way. i recently met a person who seemed quite genuine and real. but i forever will be a horrible judge of character. Maybe its because i m a serious guy with serious passions. and as of late i'v been associating with a faulty sort. it takes real courage to be honest, but she could never be.

we all walk a fine line between the liar and the friend. tread carefully on me friends, for i am frail and in need of fixing.

a few evenings past, my heart skipped a beat.

I had it all planned out. Just go out for a while my good man, nothing crazy. See some friends, go to the show, shake some hands and have a drink. And before too long, I'd be back home in bed. At a sound hour. Nothing crazy.

But how did the plan change. I swear it wasn't all my fault entirely.

It all started at the show. It all started when we were introduced. I started taking in the details. Her boots. Her clothes. Her hair and how it looked. Her sweet freckles. Her eyes. Her Smile.

I knew right there and then I would not be going home at a sound hour this night. I needed to get know this person. She seemed so intriguing. I had to take the chance and the lack of rest just to find out as much as I could about this beautiful girl, before she was gone.

We talked briefly, too briefly for my liking. Sharing ideas of dreams and activities. Futures in different places, one a rainy artsy place and another a warm sun soaked paradise. Discussing picture taking and the different things we were into at the time.

By the time the after party was wrapping up, everyone was fading fast. So we said our goodbyes and I took my leave of the party. I took the longer drive back home. To get my head strait and watch the sun rise. I didn't have to wait long. I had lost all track of time, Instead of being home early and sleeping the night away, I stayed up all night. I pulled into my drive way just in time to see the sun coming up over the east mountain.

I closed the shades in my room. Rolled back the covers and crawled into bed. As I started to drift, the details all came back to me. I always remember the details. I doubt I'll ever see this girl ever again, but I m glad she was the reason I didn't stick to the plan.

so you see, it wasn't entirely my fault. But I suppose I'll shoulder the blame. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is to not stick to the plan.

Cause its always good to see the sun come up.

circa october 08 again

seems as though i v lost track, my way is wronged. up is down, outside in
mistakes made, problems solved. i really cant explain this, just know.
i might be lost, i might be wrong, i might be far. but not so far, not so fast.
i ll be back, back home here. i ll catch you when you fall and take you home.
cause i v beat this thing inside me


this is the first time, not the last.
better than this.better then before


a million bucks wouldn't buy my smile
the world you can keep as long as i m in it with you.

written october 2008

Her love was that fast song, But my temp was a tad bit slower.
I can do without the breakdowns for once and make it all a bit smoother. all a bit softer for once.
Taking our time and getting lost in sounds.
A chorus and a hook i m hoping she won't forget all to soon.
Because I'm no echo. I'm the here and now. I'm what you need.

conviction

More and more I hear from peers they wish they could accomplish something they want. Some would like to try something new, others have high hopes and dreams that they talk about at great length. I have been told some of the most amazing ambitions. Lofty sights belonging to each one, very different but same conclusions.

After every great speech, however, comes the inevitable big B-U-T. They can't accomplish these things. Too much to do. Too much on their plates. These storytellers, these dreamers, defeated before the game even got started. Excuse after excuse after lengthy excuse rolls off their tongues. The dream is dead long before it ever had a chance to live.

Well I say that will not do. If you want something bad enough, you will do whatever it takes to achieve or hold that one thing. Strive, try, make goals, do what you need to do get what you deserve.

Once upon a time, I weighed 300lbs. I was unhappy and depressed about myself for such a long time. Then there came a day when I told myself wishing and hoping for something to happen will never make that thing happen for me. Long story short, I lost 140lbs and had to donate all of my old clothes.

Ever since that moment of realization, I'v applied it to all aspect of my life. I'v seen other countries, I'v been to the top of tall mountains. I'v been in many oceans, I'v conversed with people of all shapes and sizes. I can sure say out loud then I have done many great things and will do many more before I am done.

So If your looking for excuses as to why you never did or do the things you want, I'd take a look in the mirror. Cause at the end of it all, only you are to blame for holding yourself back. Only you can make a difference for you.

"we hold ourselves responsible" "we have no excuse"-Sartre

Whispers

Whisper me the things you need to say. All I want is to hear them. Your dreams your wants your needs. Just tell me...

Whisper what your thinking of. Speak to me about your day, speak to me anything really.

Just words. Just eyes. Just you. Just me. Just anything.

Tell me the things you want, cause I want to hear them. Tell me the things you need, and I'll bring them.

Just be here now.

Regarding sleeping troubles

This time I swear, I promise, I'll be good. If I keep telling myself that, maybe I'll actually believe it.

Have you ever just laid next to someone? Its the most comfortable uncomfortable place to be. Here you are, all cozy in your bed with this pretty little lady asleep next to you. Her back to your chest, you can feel her breathing softly. Your awake. Choking on hair that you continue to breath in. Your awake. Your right arm has long since lost feeling and all you have is the sinking feeling its about slip out of socket.

She's there, turning slightly. Digging in and getting a tad more comfortable. So warm and content. Here you are: without covers cause this little miss has decided to steal them. Your frozen and shaking. The pillow is long since gone, the debate to use your shirt for head support has been raging for about an hour now.

Why do we put ourselves through these things? Awake all night watching your partner sleep, tired all the way through the next day. Knowing your gonna have to pump coffee into your vains just keep your eyes open.

We allow all these things to happen. Because you know that at some point during that long night, she's gonna wake up and see you there. Her tired eyes open and a tiny smile comes across her sweet face. She turns and comes close and kisses you soft, nustling into your arms and falling back into dream land. All be it brief, all be it all worth it.

And with that, you get some covers back too. I ll brew a big pot of coffee for nights like these, and I'm not even mad about it

This time I swear, I promise, I'll be good.

PS: Don't ever let her know she snores a little bit, keep it a secret, they are better off not knowing.

Everything I say

Can we just stay here a minute. Can I just see if your really listening? I'm just tired. I hope you really don't mind.

My mouth moves and tells you the stories you ask to hear, but your not listening. I know your not, because I'v told you the same stories and you act like its brand new. Do you remember what I just told you? Do you remember anything I am?

I'm Just Tired

Your mouth moves and I'm reading lips and taking notes. I listen for the change in pitch and emphasis, to know which words your really mean. what your really feeling. I don't think you even notice that I'm listening intently.

There is two people in this car ride home, but its all a quite ride home for you.

Would it kill you just once to do the same for me? Just once I'd like to think I m not speaking to the air up there or the dirt down below.

I'm Just Tired

The beauty is in the details of everything, and your missing out on everything beautiful.

For now, I'll wait to see if your deaf ears decide to take notice. Until then, I'll be remember the details for you.

Rain

Rain That sweet smell of spring rain is back here. Seems like i should be used to it by now. Every year this happens. After being locked away in homes all winter, this warm rain is welcome.

How we all complain about the weather in new England. It's always been the running gag, one week it's seventy, the next, a foot of snow and below zero wind chill. I think it's what pisses a lot of people off. If can stand the heat, blah blah blah.

Well I know I can't stand it anymore. I'm tired of being stuck in my house like a prisoner every winter. During those onslaughts of blizzard and ice we watch from frosted windows. We stare and remember green grass and trees with the leafs still attached. It surely will drive me mad if I stay here one more winter.

It's a strange thing to be said that on this gray gloomy day in march, with no sun and a consant patter of rain with a grey sky backdrop, that I feel more alive today than any day in the past six months.

This Park

Here I am at the park. This park I played soccer in. This park I played frisbee in. This park I rode my bike through. This park I ran through. This park I talked to ducks and swans to get cheap laughs.

Here I am at the park. This park I used drink drinks of the alcoholic varity in. This park i used to sneak into after closing time. This park me and the boys would scope out the pretty college girls in.

Here I am at the park. This park I kissed a girl under fireworks sky. This park I held hands with a beautiful girl. This park I carried that girl on my back as we talked. This park I had my heart stolen in.

This park my parents were married in. This park has been through a lot with us. This park has sceen a lot of my good times and almost all my best lines.

This park is my park. And it's apart of me.

This is my story. I m sure there are many like mine in parks everywhere. This park, I sit and sip coffee in today, you are always gonna be my favorite park.

One love. One Stanely Park.

still hurts sometimes.

i still read your blog. i still check up on you. i m still searching

I want to know how things are going, but it hurts to call sometimes. i could text and ask a simple question: How are you miss? i could text: I miss you. i could really do anything.

I see your paints and your pictures. i see your room and the walls. i see your tv and what i m not watching. i see your hands and your bare feet. i see your jeans and cut up shirts. i see your face and your eyes. i see your heart and your smile.

all these things i see. i still see them in my brain, in a space reserved for you. Cause that place is the space i will have you still.

the thing that hurts the most is i m losing your voice. i cant hear it anymore. the sweet sounds of stories and the honesty in your laugh. what a tragic thing it will be once i lose those sounds.

so i reserve myself to drinking coffee. and the best thing i can do is sit here and think of you. but even that, it still hurts sometimes.

The Night Life-The life and times of Jonas Faust.

I'll never forget the first time I met Jonas Faust. It was 1 AM in the back ally of some packed bar downtown. I thought I was a king that night, drinking as much as I could and trying to get with any girl that would let me close. Needless to say, I achieved the drinking part, but those girls knew better.

I could feel my insides quitting on me. My stomach was ready for evacuation. While I, on the other hand, did my very best to disagree with my biology. Also another failure. I pushed and shoved my way through the bro dudes to get to an open toilet only to find, to my dismay, a full house of goosed up jocks. I made the quickest U-turn in my entire life, there was no way I was going to spill my guts all over this floor. Save some dignity my boy! What will they think of you! I bolted for the back door.

Like a flash of lighting with a purpose, I kicked that door open to find the empty ally. My first thought was "Dude, didn't someone just get shot back here last-" Vomit flew from my body onto pavement. No, No, here will do just fine. Shootings or no Shootings, nothing was stopping this event. That all to familiar sound of Wetchunckyawful splashing to the ground. As of late, I was getting used to this. Drinking until my body said "Ok sir, that will do." I suppose I didnt mind, I was young. And young people were doing such things.

For what seemed like forever, the wave crashed. Nothing left. I was shaking. My eyes most likely blood red from popped blood vessels. I dropped down to a knee, defeated. Thats when I heard it. That sly chuckle. Not really a laugh, but not much of anything else. I turned and he was There. A slim man, looking about my age. I could see by street light he had slight stubble and was dressed with an untucked button up shirt and slim tie. Next to him was a amazing looking Co-Ed.

I thought to myself, fuckingwonderfulman. You've made a total ass out of yourself infront of a complete stranger and he is getting a good laugh out of you. What happened next I did not expect. The slim man chuckled again and said "chicken alfredo? been there before. tastes better the first time man." Not knowing how to respond, I just shook my head. Still in shame. The slim man bent down next to me and started in. "Your first mistake was too many shots boyo, stick to what you know. You can't be pro being kamafuckinkzi with that shit."

My pride was hurt. and who the hell was this guy? He motions for the girl to go back inside and tells her something I could not here. Wispering softly into her ear and small kiss on her cheek, leaving just myself and this stranger. Thoughts are going through my pounding head: is this guy gonna mug me? what the hell is going on?

The slim man tells me that he was about to seal the deal with his lady friend when my dumb ass burst through the door. He wasnt mad though. He had seen me during the night, doing shots and buying drinks. Telling me how if i were to keep this shit up, i was gonna burn a hole in my pocket and that will not do. "There is a way of doing things boyo, and I'm gonna show ya."

That sly laugh came again, he helped me up off the ground and brushed me off. We made for the door and I told him the bar was closing, why are we going back in?

"Your education in the Night Life starts to night boyo."

As the door closes behind us I ask him who he is. "The names Jonas Faust, and I'm gonna be your best fuckin friend."

If I had known then, what I know now. Everything that happend that year. All those mistakes and good times I wish I could remember. If I had just stayed home that night and slept, and never ended up in that back ally....

I would never have know the Night life. Or Jonas. Or anything for that matter. I guess fate has a funny way of showing up. My moment was on one knee in a back ally puking my guts out.

These things happen....

A Strange Dream

Strange as it may seem, here we are. Watching TV on the couch, some nameless distraction nothing really worth our attention. My head in your lap, I'm half asleep. You, of all people, there with a smile on your face.

Some of the words escape me now, but I do remember the good parts. Asking why you smile so, your reply is something silly and off color:no doubt a joke used on my expense. You run your fingers through my hair and scratch my beard. I gently rub your skinny arm.

Strange, this scene of peace and happiness. This tender moment. Because you are not mine, and I am not yours. If this wasn't a dream, we would be in deep trouble if anyone were to find out.

But it is a dream. And some of the best things are dreams. Remembering this one as I do now, I wonder to myself:where the hell did that come from? As I often ask do when I wake up. But I guess I'll reserve this dream to memory. Only in my dream will we be.

Only in dreams.

Concerning Remembering

7 years ago this morning, my mother died. I can replay the events of that morning again and again as if it was happening right in front of me.

It's a strange thing, in retrospect, I didn't cry. I don't think I have ever since then to be totally honest. I could never figure myself out enough to understand why I didn't. Shock? Denial? Who's to say? But it always bothered me, even now.

To say I don't think about what could have been would be lying. It's not often, but it crosses my mind from time to time of what she would think. I don't really remember her other than from when she got sick to that morning. The IVs, the feeding tubes, the medication, the whole damn mess of it. I would like to have one clear memory about the person she was, but that's something I won't ever have.

How would she take all these silly tattoos? my crazy ideas? all the things that i'v done? The one piece of clarity I have I suppose is that I m doing the things I want and what I feel is right, and if it were me: I wouldn't mind they way i'v turned out.

Out of all this business, I know in my heart I'm true to myself and I m making my own way, and I hope that will be enough. I don't seek her approval, cause that's something I will never have, but it enough to think i have it.

I don't write this for sympathy. I don't ask anything of anyone who reads it, other than say I love you to the ones you do. Let them know, that way they will always know you do.

One for me

But you can't leave she screamed; Not now, not ever. But I am I tell her, I'm getting out of here while I still can. Before I get to old to be useful anywhere else, before I get too old to work up my nerve. Before my dreams pass me by.

The irony of this whole situation I'm in right now is that these rolls where reversed but only a few months ago. It was me pleading and begging her to stay. Hoping I would have just a few more moments with her. But now, well that isn't the case.

I tell her that I've been here far too long. Done all the things I want to do in this place. I tell her, if I put down roots here in this place, I'm quite sure I will wither away to nothing. And there certainly is not a damn thing she, or anybody for that matter, can do to stop me.

This isn't fair, your heartless. Your the worst human being, I can't believe your doing this to me. She's throwing the most hurtful things now, pulling no punches. I know I only make things worse when I start to laugh. I ask her if I could only have a minute to say what I came here to say, then she can scream and cry and do whatever as much as her little heart wants.

I think to myself, It must seem shameful and awful of me, being as cold as i am. Maybe I am heartless now. But if I go back to how I was months ago, I'll never be able to leave here. Never live dreams and become crushed.

This isn't a story about mending fences. This isn't a story about sorrys and goodbyes. It's a story about the end of the beginning. A story about once chance, the last chance, to be completely honest with yourself. To be brutaly honest with everyone you've ever know.

This is your life story, and your the only one to blame for the plot. The only one to blame for how it's all gonna end.

So, in my new found sense of honesty, I'll tell her how it was and how it's gonna be......

Late Night Calls

Your iPhone is going off in the middle of the night. It could be any number of things: someones been arrested, someones in the hospital, someones wrestled a bear and...... These things happen on phone calls from friends.

These are the calls too priceless to ignore. The ones you know you have to answer. Cause if you don't, you may regret it forever.

I recall recently my phone ringing very early one morning (or extremely late one night). I, asleep: dead to the world, not to be bothered under penelty of death, do not pass go, that sort of sleep. I roll over to see who is ringing me at this unholy hour. And come to find, someone I had not heard from in some time. Knowing this girl and her pention for making a mess of things, I was inclinded to answer and was already to bounce out of bed if the need should arise.

The voice on the other end was quite and soft. She seemed tired, as if I had called her and woke her up. I asked if everything was alright, to which she replied: no, not really, but that's not the point. Before I could ask what was wrong she cut me off. "I'm calling you now because I just had a dream, it seemed so real. You and I were driving in my car singing songs and I was laughing at your silly jokes. It was so real to me. But when I woke up; you weren't here with me. And that make me very sad."

I, dumbfounded on my end of the phone line could only muster one sound: oh. She then told me that she misses me something horrible. And she called me only so she could here my voice, and to hear a few silly jokes.

After what turned into hours, we said our goodnights and goodbyes. Knowing both well enough the plans we made probably won't come around, but the thought of being together was enough.

It's calls like those that make me feel alive. Knowing that, sometimes waking up all alone is more unerving than any nightmare. But a call to a friend can be a remedy, if only a brief one. So next time, dont ignore that phone call at 330 in the morning. It might be the most important call you'll ever have.

What we are?

I am Everything all the time. I am Nothing all the time.

I am Me. I am you. I am Somebody and i am nobody.

I am Here. I am There. I am Everywhere and I am nowhere.

I am Blind. I am Observant. I am Ethical and I am aesthetic

In the end, I am all these things, And I am none of these things.

Philosophy has made my brain turn upside down. I am quite sure it is the best thing that has found me.

One For Amanda

Amanda The last time I saw Amanda seems like forever ago now. I'm quite sure I made myself look like a fool then, seein as though I was more concerned about my drink in hand then paying attention to my words. Had I know then that she'd be leaving a few weeks later, I would thrown caution to the wind and told her straight up how things were.

From her smile to her little laugh, you can't help but feel a bit warmer in side when she's around. Any fool who would let this one go would be haunted by that mistake for a long time. She seemed as though she was a piece of summer that night;right there in the middle of the room.

I think to myself, if she knows just how beautiful she is? From the top of her head down to here feets. I wonder if anyones told her such things. For now, I'll wonder. Seein as she's a thousand miles away and the best I can do is send texts at the middle of the night. But you know what they say about Amanda and those crazy boys she finds. Well, unfortunetly for this crazy boy, he'll have to wait to let know how beautiful this Amanda is.

These Lights

These lights are too bright for me. My eyes strain, their pupils shrink down to nothing. The hazel blue green of each sphere is all that can be seen.

These lights are too bright for me. My head screams to turn down the gamma. The brain inside the skull feels like its too big for it's cage.

These lights are too bright. Where am I? What happened? I can't focus on anything. I feel like I v been punched by the incredible hulk. I might as well as be on some kind of drugs. But I'm not.

These lights are street lights. These lights are stop signals. These lights are everwhere. In the house. In the car. In the fridge. In my head. These lights I see are all in my head. And I can't focus on anything.

I should be hung over, I should be anything right now. But all I can see are these lights. I should be talking to girls, I should be painting pictures, I should be anywhere. Anywhere not with these lights. But I'm not.

I'm driving, I don't know where I'm going. It's late. Always late night. All alone on these roads. 100 feet from street light to street light. These lights, I see them more than any one thing in my day. Bad company. Really bad company. I should be anywhere with anyone right now, but I am somewhere with someone. I m with these lights, and it's fucking killing me.

Breathe it all in

Let me breath the freshest air. Let me see the cloudless skies. Take me away to the morning sunrises, those red-yellow glows that wake me up so good.

Let me see today before it starts. Let me be here, just be here and not with any worries. Let's watch the new and clean.

I want to see my world wake up. I want to show how beautiful this place can be. I want to be the warm, inviting embrace of morning.

Some people say magic doesn't exsist. Those people haven't truly lived, or loved, or even opened their eyes. I can show you beautiful, and I can show you magical, and I can do everyday. All you have to do is be here. Just right here, and I'll show you everything.

The Dreamer and The Man

I am so scared. I m doing the things that I want to do. I'm making the choices I told myself I'd make. I'm being honest with myself for the first time since I can't remember when.

I am all these things, and it scares the shit out of me.

Always told myself that if I wasn't doing the things that I loved, then I really wasn't living. The other morning, I started to build studio space in my basement.

Cleaning up old pieces of memories that have been discarded to the underground. Broken glass, old army men, clothes long since forgotten. Things that were important once, but now nothing more than afterthoughts to growing up.

It smelled like old foot sweat and mold when I first started. But after a while, the old war room started to be presentable. The more I peeled back the cobwebs, the more I could see what I was building. Not just a place for art, but a step towards my future.

That's when I had to take a step back. What are you doing boy? You don't actually think being creative and silly and all of these wonderful things will actually get you through life?

That voice of doom and responseability echoing in my head. Now, now, think straight. Get a good job, do a good job. The rest will take care of itself. None of these silly dreams of whims and adventure. Settle in, it's a long life boy, and you gotta put your hours in.

I'm split down the middle. The Dreamer and The Man. Constantly at war with each other. The Man, is as empty as this basement. The Dreamer, full of hope like a forever summer. The Man always the winner, but not this day.

I might be scared. I might be unsure about a lot of things. But today, in this basement, this old house of horrors, I take a step. The Dreamer and me are making something out of nothing. And i'v never felt so right in my entire life.

So it's alright to be scared and nervous and unsure. Cause for me, my heart beats to the best beat there is: mine. Outside it might be cold and dark, but in here with me, Its bright and wonderful. Impossibilities are nothing more than road blocks in your head. And here in this underdark of a basement, The Dreamer finally gets one over on The Man.

Give me the freedom to be me, and I'll show you the world.

dear anywherebuthere, its Dana. i'll be seeing you soon.

i smoked weed to get inspiration, all i got was a bad appetite. i drank booze to have a good time, all i had was a bunch of bad choices.

24 years here, 24 there. how long does it take for a person to figure out what they want? how long does it take for me to man up and do what i want?

its been long enough.

The Mill

All I hear is talk. This and that. So and So and what So and so was doing. I get caught up in the drama monster.

It's a sad fucking state of affairs when this is what consumes us daily, from waking moment to eyelids crashing, all I ever hear is the amount of shit people are talking. It's enough for you turn off everything just long enough to not have to listen to the garbage that comes through the texts, the calls, the comments, and the messages. Long enough to stop pulling your hair out, long enough to focus on something productive, long enough for a good nights sleep.

I'll never understand a persons need to put someone else down. Making yourself a "bigger and better" boy or girl at the expense of another. If people put in as many hours into doing something thoughtful or something beautiful as they do at the rumor mill, I'd be willing to put my last shiny american dollar down you'd be having a better time. Period.

Think me a man or monster or whatever, I really don't care. I know I'v pissed off my fair share. Going through life trying please everyone is only gonna get you nowhere. There will always be someone out there who thinks you a piece of dirt, just how the story goes comrades. Your better of believing everything you heard is true anyway, it makes for the real truths that much more surprising.

I suppose the point I'm getting at is just that. Friends be friends, problems be resolved and water be under built bridges. Carrying on and harboring ill will over trivial nonsense makes for a much more depressing life. All easier typed then done surely, but take a second to look at what your doing. I wish people would get as excited over being positive to someone else than when talking the proverbial smack behind their backs.

But that's just not how it goes. Allow me to apologize in closing to anybody I'v ever hurt. Continue on with the stories, both true and fake alike. As you were.

As we all were