stiff

and i can see everything. everything and everyone is me at once.

and i feel nothing.

i've done so much dreaming in the past few nights, and the only thing i have to show is lofty ideas that overshadow my being. it's in the prospect of criminality and theft that i keep contacting you. be a criminal and keep in touch.

face in my hands, i'm left here. i'm left weeping for whatever it is that humanity has lost.

these transitional nights keep my throat dry and my head aching, but it's what i crave.

because when you long for the anguish and pain

you dig your own grave.

tipped

in this dark place i feel at home. i feel surrounded and cut off from everything that makes me uneasy. i feel able to extend my fingers and create shapes and patterns. colors and hues. i decide what's detrimental to the delayed thought process enveloping my actions and precautions. and i've decided it is.

i know what i am, but not how i was made. i don't know who manufactured me or who glued me together with enormous magnification lenses. i don't know how i fit in here or how i came to be here. but here i am. surrounded and living. i'm a ship in a bottle, and i'm stuck.

forever trapped, am i. and forever free, i am.

i'm fucking with light switches. living in the darkness and the light. making a life out of balance.

sickly.

i'm becoming fairly sick. my stomach is urging me to feed it, but i can't bring myself to lift my tired head from this lethal position. i came here on the crest of a wave and was slammed into the earth until my stomach was pink. pink with frustration and pink with hunger, my mind wandered elsewhere.

it wandered and wandered.

and i've arrived in the first person becoming sick again. not physically sick this time, but rather sick with myself. sick with others and sick with being ill. everything is in my hands and i just don't have the power to enable it.

when seeds dig under your tough layer of skin, breed and make socially acceptable homes. when they start to spread and preach manifest destiny. when they build railways, flying machines, automobiles, etc.

you can see them lying under your skin and you wonder what keeps you lying to yourself.

why won't they grow?

you can't allow anything to bloom, because you'll kill it.

go ahead. kill it.

91 east

Why would I throw my lifeless body into something that I've seen people die from? I find myself and others frequently convincing ourselves that we're a different story. It won't happen to us, because we aren't them. How foolish we can all be for that. Ragdolling down the countryside into what will surely be my end, my limbs flop and twist in undersirable contortions.


In my dreams, I wander. It's no different than what I do in my conscious state, but in my dreams I feel no shame. When I'm awake and answering questions I feel guilty that I don't know what I want. My dreams however leave me wandering down empty corridors. Aged pillars decaying and crumbling left and right as tiles crack under the weight of my indecision. Here it comes.

cringing.

i wasn't that star. i didn't explode. i still do laps around galaxies, but now they're not so close... they're farther away these days. watching the lives of others and their dreams falling all around them like dirty recycled los angeles rain drops. that water is thick like blood. blood that runs down steep palos verdes and beverly hills driveways into the gutters where we've all slept once or twice by now.

i want to know where you swim at night. what nebulas you frequent. which stars you love to watch explode. and most of all, what planets you want to destroy. i can help you decimate celestial beings. let me.

these songs that you've chosen for me are something deeper than i probably know. but my very thinking about that possibility leaves me wondering if they're meaningful at all or if they're simply melodic constructions held together by chicken scratched lyrics on loose leaf paper.

write me something scary.

write me something beautiful.

just don't stop writing me.

7x8

So I dig my toes into April
In an attempt to just hold on
While the waves of summer wash away
The sand castles we've been living on
We're left out in the open
Stranded here under the sun
Just to build those sand castles back up
Pack the dirt and fight, or is it run?

La da da da,
Just counting down the days
Twiddling my thumbs
And thinking about the ways,

It could have been.
It should have been.
It's done.

I'm so afraid of what's left
What sits here on my plate
These months I can't seem to stomach
These feelings I can't seem to shake.
I'm killing time for what it is
Exposed and baked under the sun
Coffee shops and long talks
I'm happy cause I'm alone.

recognition

this is what it means to taste misery. This deep copper that dyes my tongue a disgusting color. I can cleanse myself all I want but I know I'll always taste this metallic dissapointment. Sleeping without cotton swabs in my mouth is a terrible idea. There's nothing to soak up all the blood that pours in and down my esophagus.

I've never felt like we were equals, but now I know it for sure. It's so hard to accept that something I've clung to for years can be ripped away from my being like magic, with no trace. No remains. Only ruins are left in a wake that makes me feel like something less than human. Did I deserve this?

thunderstorms.

i'm tired of talking about music.

right now i'm really tired of pushing out music and lyrics and poems and thoughts and shit. i feel like if i keep pushing things out and not letting them walk out naturally, it will all be shit. i don't want what i love to be a waste, so i'm tired as of now. what i really want to do is rid myself of this cavity in my stomach that shares the rent with my heart. i want to sleep it all off and brush away what still sits on my shoulders.

i want to fly to the mid west and sit on a lake that i know. i want to tell no one and walk down to the dock. i want to sit on the structure and feel the warm water on my feet. i want to sit there in a big coat and watch the clouds move in from the west. they gather above the giant mass of water and shade the life that stirs beneath the surface. darkness covers the lake and the speedboats go home. it's storms like this that make me want to see. it's lightning that illuminates the 1,000 lakes and more that makes me want to fall into the water with my arms outstretched for the sky. i can feel the water flooding my nose and as i cough, forcing what i'm made of out of my body another streak of lightning cascades over the lake and i am home.

i conduct electricity. i shape these clouds and control the grid that powers the night sky. i'm the one making everything bright and shiny and beautiful.
but i am nothing.
i am drowning in the lake that acts as a mirror. reflecting the electric discharge born in the clouds, shaking airplanes and crows.
i am night.

sleeping beasts

please don't make an effort
i've got it under control
you see i'm used to being here
on the bottom of the ocean floor
treading through your thoughts
i keep my footsteps light
these patterns and seas of rhythm
are nothing in comparison to the score

one, love
keep your distance
two, love
i've got my resistance

the water's getting heavy
crushin from the pressure
living in this submarine
am i content, or should i ask for more?
and so i'm treading water
the temperature is warm
i watch the sun set in the east
and settle down with this sleeping beast, evermore

(what's the score?)


one, love
keep your distance
two, love
i've got my resistance

my dark passenger.

it's night, and i am desolate. the darkness is not pitch black to the point where nothing is recognizable, but just enough to be unable to discern shapes in the distance. as i wander through the haze that obstructs my vision, i take small light steps so as not to trip over anything making itself invisible to my feet. the grunge that surrounds me is a feeling i'm familiar with. it's something that has been with me and led me through my life for years now. it is my lies, my deceit, my harmful nature, and most of all my hate. it is a walkway that provides me with room to move, but at the same time it restricts my steps and keeps me confined on a path that only it knows the end to. i have struggled as hard as i possibly can for years to hold in whatever this grunge may be, and i have done a fairly good job. there are moments of weakness i expereince however, where it momentarily escapes in the form of a different character condemning those who deserve anything but. in a crowded room, this passenger is the entity that sleeps beneath the plastic incadescent smiles...the ones that are so fake they show every tooth in the mouth. the passenger is one that glides effortlessly through my heart and spins threaded thoughts that swamp my brain. it layers my mind and floats through it like a mist. though visible, it cannot be caught or contained and the only thing that you can do to survive it is to drive slowly and keep your brights off. this grunge...this passenger...i can only hope to subdue it for as long as possible.

Enough has been sleeping
And hiding behind me
Enough has been sneaking
And trying to blind me
But enough is enough

I can't let this beast lie any longer, and I certainly won't allow it to sleep at my feet. What was once and twice my trust, has become something that I should have seen weeks away. There it was speeding at me like a bullet train, and I had my lucky makeshift blindfold on, waiting to be led forward and put on the ground Indian style. This puzzle has always been missing a few pieces, and until now I had been looking for what I thought was lost. It just so happens that they were never lost...they just weren't ever there. I've spent years in vain searching for those ever elusive pieces of the blue sky that make this jigsaw complete. But now by some strange miracle, puzzle pieces come pouring out of my veins and I'm left to turn unidentifiable pieces over and search. One can never say if it's fully worth it to keep flipping over bits of specifically shaped cardboard, but somehow it always feels right.

It's funny what you think when you sleep. How only your own thoughts exist when you're halfway between death and a stuggle for consciousness. Tossing and turning leaves me sore and bitter toward the harsh buzz of an alarm clock that always seems to ring about five minutes before I would like it to. These dreams of swimming through the cosmos let me drift slowly and admire the symphony of stellar creationism. All the stars that I swim past doing my nightly laps of nearby galaxies, soon they'll all burn out and leave everything they ever knew. But not before they burn brighter than they ever have or ever will again...not before they explode with the intensity of nothing you have ever seen..or ever will see again.

purchases.

sometimes i wonder why i'm not something else. at different points in my short time spent on Earth, i've been interested in different things. music is an overbearing interest of course, but there are some things that i feel would better suit me sometimes. oh well, that doesn't matter now.

sometimes i just feel like retreating. i find it truly amazing that my fingers can remember what buttons to hit when i want to say something specific. if i want the word "salad" to pop up on my screen, all i have to do is hit the right combination of buttons and voila. they're all the same sized little buttons, but they have these different symbols on them.
wouldn't it be wonderful if life could be as easily translated as "salad"?
when i wanted to see something in front of me, my fingers could just hit the s a l a d buttons, and there it would be.

i can't remember the moment when everything changed for me. there should be this defining moment when i stopped treating things in a childish manner...when i started seeing the world for what it is and making adult decisions. but here i am without any sort of memoir to reflect upon; just smoothing over the cracks of right and wrong choices. you know, if i could buy breath, i wouldn't.

don't panic.

all of this living makes me feel like some sort of circus act at times. that's not a bad thing, but it's just harder than i remember to juggle. i do enjoy it though. i'm more than ready to leave this little town behind. she makes me happy and helps me leave my sheets when i haven't gotten enough sleep. but still i come home each day to find this familiar tug ushering me toward myself. with these heavy bass lines driving themselves into my ears and a voice that speaks for me when i don't know how to talk.

"i can feel your heart beating out of your stomach!"

don't panic.
there simply is no need.

the whipping wind

Recently I've noticed the winds are changing. Lately I've seen the weather change. I watched the clouds move in from the west, and waves swallow ships at the break of day. So here we stand at the top of the world, the wind swirling smiles around. Pushing you over while flying mid-air, whipping your hair up, and knocking me down.
You said "I'll be your fire", you'll keep me warm, while you rest your head atop my chest. And I breathe in at the heart of this storm, you have a habit of melting me, I must confess.

all it takes

is

a new set of eyes

to see

a new set of eyes

a few favorite quotes

" hardly are those words out, when a vast image of spiritous mundi troubles my sight.
somewhere, in sands of the desert a shape with lion body and the head of a man. a gaze, blank and pitiless as the sun is moving it's slow thighs while all about it real shadows of the indignant present burns. the darkness drops again, but now i know that twenty centuries of stony sleep are vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle. and what rough beast, it's hour come round at last slouches toward Bethlehem to be born."

"An ex-girlfriend once got upset when I told her that music is the most important thing in my life. It’s more important than anyone else could ever be. I don’t want to be overly dramatic and say it’s the only thing that gets me up and keeps me going. But people in your life come and go. As you go through your life, you make friendships, you break friendships, you have relationships. Music is the one thing I’ve always been able to rely on. So why wouldn’t it be the most important thing in my life?"

"The whole world, myself included, seem to have one thing in common. We're just a crowd of people who don't really fit in anywhere attempting to convince one another that we do. I guess I'll put my sunglasses on and pretend, like everyone else, that I too belong here..."