1:36pm
overcast skies, a bit chilly, but nice
the lonely days and nights come and go
the end of the year draws near
but first.....Christmas
i feel ok, still with the same tiredness(mentally), loneliness,
and the malaise of the adult realities.
writers block has seemed to come again
not much to say, only things to feel
silence has my voice lately
the cats are up to their usual cattery as i call it
eating, sleeping and watching....
the girl cat sits on the end table
and the boy cat plays with a cat toy with
excitement and focus
with not much to say, i hold my silence this day
waiting for the faucet of thoughts to once again open and pour out
the emptiness of thoughts echoing through my mind
like the sound of a soft voice in a deep cave
i hold on, i dream on, and well, actually
i just wait for better days.
the boy cat Sam on the left, the girl cat Chrissy on the right
i long for you, i long for you to come into my view
i starve from a lack of you
i don't have a clue, i'm blind
a lonely and quiet day today, the warmth of the past few days
left in a hurry, scurrying off into sunsets of winter days
the plight for more daylight
the candles in my cave of dark don't shine as bright anymore
my soils aren't rich enough, aren't worth as much anymore
the rains have poured down too much and rinsed them out
there's not much to show or give any doubt
proof lies in the tracks i lay here, the place of my tears
the waves of this ocean don't ever stop, don't ever cease or rest
riding the waves is tiresome and lonely when you ride them alone
riding them together with someone, with total and unconditional love,
makes those waves fun, adventurous, exciting.
i'm blind, riding those waves alone, bruised, confused, disheartened.
yes, i still ride on hoping, wishing, and yes, sometimes pleading.
a lonely and quiet day today
temperatures were nice for a few days there, when winter
had to make sure we knew it is wintertime still
my feet are cold, i sit here barefoot typing this out
i can feel a slightness of a wind or movement of air going
between some of my toes, the massage of invisible fingers
normally i dislike the feel of my feet being cold.
i can hardly form words of positivity these days
outside of social interactions and conversations with others
only the here n theres and the every so oftens
my shoulders haven't been bare in over 20 years
obviously me leading nothing but a trail of tears
makes me think of the classic: "i've fallen and i can't get up."
of course i always get up and brush myself off
i just wished it wasn't so often.
the cats are sleeping side by side in the dining room window.
they dream in ways we wont ever know, but they sleep in ways
we wished we could
the days short, well the light of the days are
the cool and cold air settling over and under
the car with it's 112,000 miles sits outside, the mule
the house creaks and clicks here n there
and me? well, i'm still here, still talking to no one and everyone
i feel ok, disheartened alot, sad and lonely alot, but what about tomorrow?
i wanna see what happens tomorrow, but for now i'll see how i can
enjoy right now, this moment, each keystroke, each word, each feeling
each emotion. of course sometimes.....well, for me, alot of the times, it's hard.
the outsider looking in the window, the little boy not allowed to go in.
the grown man watching others take advantage, take for granted the
simplest of things he wished he could have.
i write on, i push on, i H O L D on.
1:34am
so thanksgiving has come and gone once again,
the food, the family, the fun of old memories
photographs of old times of youth explored again
family time is nice, but saddens me a bit
all i ever do during this time of year is try to stay in my dreams
stay in my heaven
i should have a family of my own by now
at least a partner, a significant other, a lover
i long, oh i long for the feeling of arms wrapped around me
real hugs and embraces, real passion and kisses
oh how i miss getting lost in each others eyes
oh how i miss these things, these simple but oh so important things
people take advantage of the simplest of things
especially of relationships, the expressing feelings
saying the simplest of words, words like i love you
words like i miss you, words like you're so incredibly beautiful
heaviness weighs on shoulders of what was once a boy
boulders placed early on for him to battle till his life is gone
forgotten are the shores of his beach
only memories remain to eventually get sun bleached
i refrain from stopping the pain of life
the pains of stress and heart ache and strife
i feel, i feel, i feel
so, the cats are somewhere around here, probably in a
gentle state of deep sleep, which is also something i miss
since insomnia tends to pay me regular visits lately
i feel sad alot these days, not because of winter's arrival
but mostly because of life.
cried a bit here n there today, the icy feeling of tears
left to dry on my cheeks and eyes
maybe one day things will not just go the way i'd like them to,
but remain that way forever
one day, one day
a few months away from my birthday, but sadly it's
not something i look forward to, not because of getting older,
but for other reasons. i actually enjoy being older, growing older.
i have Scarfolk Council keeping my ears and mind going
and my mind ruminates, the cogitation endlessly
and alas, i dream on, i push on, and mostly of all, i hold on
all i see, tree after tree, rooted deep in their soils of comfort
soils of toil and trouble and stresses
but look up top at the blooms and fruit and flowers of their soil
brilliant and beautiful, colorful and fresh
each with it's own seeds that will also search for soils of comfort
soils of toil and trouble and stresses
row after row, line after line of trees
each rooted deep, but not necessarily immobile
such a variety, such a wonder, such randomness
all the while identical, copies, prints of the before
even their soils of toil and trouble and stresses are commonality
commonality, commonality, a template of similarities
trees in gardens, in forests, in a preservation, in parks
in neighborhoods, in slums, in alleyways, in parking lots
in river beds, flower beds, in a persons mind.
all i see, tree after tree after tree, rooted in their soils of comfort
written sometime ago, don't rightly remember when
at the time i felt it was incomplete
but i figured now, ill post it anyway.
beautiful day, 71 degrees fahrenheit
windows open breezy winds flow in
i feel ok, heart aches, mind is busy though
the sun shining through the tree in the front yard
casts a nice shadow on the neighbor's roof
right near where the wasps took residence, although
there's no sign of them today
the cats...the girl cat is bathing on top of the television
and the boy cat sleeps elsewhere.
writers block seems to be slowly lifting, well very slowly.
had some decent ideas here n there lately.
i dream all the time...most of my waking hours
and my sleeping dreams, well, those are still strange
it's funny, i've become uninterested in most of the hobbies
i enjoy, well, i guess i should say enjoyed
i find myself vegging away at times, doing nothing at all
and other times im going for walks or drives
thinking all the while of everything and of only a few things
maybe i should find new hobbies and/or things to do
it's just only like the waves of the ocean
always with the highs n lows, ups n downs
there's usually a balance
it's always easier when you have someone to ride the waves with though
cause then you can help each other balance, help each other to feel
help each other to feel...
those warm days, those sweaty palms from holding hands so long days
those magic dream days, those passion filled heaven days
those safest of safe days, those time stood still days
those days play out the most to me in my dreams and memories
those time standing still days, those days, the purest of such
i often watch other people and see them living in those days
and it makes me smile, i wished i could see more people in those days
i ache a bit in loneliness, missing those days
and yeah, seeing the other people with it adds a heaviness to that,
but i still smile in knowing i get what they're possibly feeling
but i still dream, i still float through heaven there.
waves of the ocean
i ride still, i ride on, i push on, i dream on
i went to a restaurant a few days ago and
i walked in and was lead to be seated at a booth.
my hair being that it's fairly long now had gotten
somewhat messed up from the wind and movements
of being outside so i was fixing it as i walked
i see a woman sitting at one of the booths
and i see that she has lost most of her hair
and i can see that it is more than likely cancer related
we looked at each other and it nearly felt as though
i had gotten stabbed...not by the way she looked at me
well, partially, but she didn't glare or look hateful,
but rather she looked sad
this bothered me immensely because the situation should
have been reversed...me with short/little/no hair
and her with the long hair
my empathy flowed heavily and i worked to keep back any tears
i wanted to cut my hair off then and there and give it to her
i didn't even know the woman and yet part of me
wanted to trade places with her
not really sure why, perhaps since my grandmother died of cancer
when i was 10 or 11 and my father is a cancer survivor
although his case was minor, it was still cancer nonetheless
being that i am emotion and empathy filled these days, i think
that's also partially why it weighed so heavy on me
i could see in her eyes the tears that she seemed to have
on the inside as i walked past her.....slow motion at that
or so it seemed
by the time i was finished eating and was leaving,
the woman had already left and was gone
but i thought about her still, hence my writing this
i thought of all kinds of things since then
imagining different situations and circumstances
my mom, my sister, my relatives
i haven't had the privilege of having a sustained relationship
or a marriage or anything, but even that entered my mind
if i was married and it was my wife
i even imagined it being me.
strange....
the recent days of mine have been inundated
by insomnia, almost a week straight of difficulties
in sleeping and staying asleep
the monotony of being dead tired and laying in bed
waiting to fall asleep...minutes seem like hours
hours seem like years and all the while you're tortured
with the thoughts of sleep and being asleep, the peacefulness
then thoughts of the day, thoughts of personal struggles
thoughts of loneliness, life, and for me, my world, my dreams
so it's no wonder that i have to say i feel tired and worn out these days
sometimes i feel like i have too much empathy
some movies that aren't even sad, make me cry
those love movies that only some cry to, i bawl my eyes out to
movies that seem to be able to punch my heart, my emotions
i see someone fall or get hurt, i cringe as though i felt the actual
physical pain from it.
was a beautiful day today, nice breezes, nice temperature
and it is a beautiful night as well, the moon smiles down on me
and i can't help but wonder who else is looking up at it as well.
i wonder if someone else as lonesome and emotional as i
is somewhere looking up at it, someone stuck indoors, looking
out through the window at it. someone sitting outside in a hammock
looking up at it. a couple out for a walk, looking up at it.
two lovers madly and unconditionally in love laying in the grass,
looking up at it. their moon is also my moon and yet their world is
not my world, their love is not my love, their thoughts, are not my thoughts
their dreams, while beautiful, are not my dreams. a reality i often think about.
typing this out has made me cry like a baby and i've had to stop a few times
well, i hope that tonight that i can sleep as heavy and soundly as i've ever
slept before, i hope that my dreams while sleeping will be as beautiful
as my life dreams, i hope one day i can live in those dreams....one day.
anyway, night is covering the wasps next door and as for the cats.....
well they're up to their usual cat business with the girl cat sitting on the
back of the couch taking a shower/licking her fur and as for the boy cat,
im not sure where he is, actually.
i want to fly away, i want to escape the everyday,
i want to run away to the edge of dreams and love
i want to sail on the waves of passion and elation
i want to float on clouds of togetherness.
i want to drift away forever with you
anyway, i dream still..
i feel tired as insomnia has paid me many visits recently
the dreams when i sleep have been stranger than normal
some of which were slightly scarey or disturbing
i get the feeling as though they're supposed to mean something
but i usually just brush them off as the usual strange dream
still the hard punch of writers block hits me solidly
i search for the words, helplessly, not much to find
so, i see the wasps flying today, there's a sort of
comfort in knowing they're there scurrying and flying about
in and out of the crack on the neighbor's roof
and then there's the cats
the boy cat sits in the window in the dining room
watch, waiting, observing the happenings of the outside
the girl cat sits on the arm of the couch, watching me as i sit typing
she too, watches and observes
a loud helicopter flies over, shaking the windows of the house
vibrating the walls with it's annoyance of absurdity
looking out the window, i cant help but wonder if it is a nice day
the trees swaying in the breeze, sunny, perhaps warm
i will soon venture out into it as my stomach calls for nourishment
for sustenance.
soon i will be 39, too bad i cant fast forward to 40
that would be something
while i was looking at my posts and such, i see that
i have quite a good amount of drafts that i could post
but not sure about it yet so i guess that's why they're
still just drafts. i still wonder though.....
anyway, the stomach calls
i push on, i dream on, and the wasps scurry on
a storm in the distances calls out to me
telling me the future that will soon be
i have William Basinski - Silent Night keeping the mood
lonely day and evening.
a plethora of thought and emotion flowing
the girl cat watches me ever so intently as i type this out
the boy cat is in the bay window watching for the chance
occurrence of other neighborhood cats passing by
or perhaps he's watching things i'm unaware of
it would be nice to see life from a cat's perspective
just for a little while, maybe we'd all learn something
new about ourselves that would perhaps help ourselves?
my thoughts persistently going back to heaven
the occasional lightening flash temporarily lights up the
neighbor's roof where the wasps have taken up residence
the rain comes down hard now the ballet of it dancing on the rooftop
i used to say rain is the tears of the cloud after seeing life
how it is and how we live it and accepted it to be
it's hard not to also think about life's effects on us all
the coping, the learning, and most importantly of all the feeling
we all should feel more often, wear our emotions so to speak
not all the time, but from time to time.
anyway, the rain falls, the thunder rumbles, and my mind dreams on
on a side note ive been working on changing the look
and feel of this blog so it is a little more user friendly
so it's not so eye aching, hopefully it's working
such a beautiful day today, nice temperatures
warm, yet cool, breezes of comfort
i feel good today
no sign of the wasps so far
and the cats, well, the girl cat sits in my lap purring
the boy cat is probably laying in the bay window, stomach up
his slumber is probably as deep as any ocean
i still want a vacation to a mountain with a cave
and some animals, bicycle rides on the mountain side
with a splashing of water
my thoughts have been like ping pong balls
bouncing around all over add that to the writer's block
im already having and we get a dry climate of nothing
the times we are in are strange and alien to me
tons of insanity and madness, but still there's
good and love and beauty
hopefully there's a stable balance between it all
hopefully the world will not go to war with itself
hopefully things will calm down to a soothing dance
a soothing dance of love and respect
anyway, hopefully soon this writer's block will lift
and gift me once again with lines of things to say
things like:
this beautiful day contrasted by a climate of war
and disease and hatred
this beautiful day paralleled by love and beauty
and solace
this beautiful day reminding me of heaven days
the air outside, the ambiance of the night
it's cool and feels nice, a hint of chills
the night's dark comes sooner and sooner
the tiny slither of a crescent moon
the feeling of fall coming soon
the loneliness of a passing season into the new season
the most beautiful time of year when fall comes
young lovers, staring into the nights possibilities and potential
time stands still and they dance together in the space between
fear stands there watching with hateful jealousy
but together, the young couple are oblivious to this
because together, fear can only stand outside and watch
monday night/tuesday early morning
12:18am
lonely night
watched the sun set and people going about their evenings
the nights are getting cooler now and the darkness comes faster
each evening.
my favorite time of year is the fall
there's a new sound outside of a dog barking that i've never heard before
so apparently someone nearby got a new dog
i cant see the wasps right now, but the cats
well, the cats are up to their usual behavior
sleeping and eating and the occasional hairball
i feel ok
haven't had much to say or write about lately
bit of the old "writer's block" i guess.
but at least there was a little something that came to mind
it's funny how that works or happens to me
for a while, a plethora, a whirlpool of thoughts and things to
say and write about like bathtub filled with water and
the stopper is removed or is slightly pulled up
writer's block for me is when the stopper is put back into
place before the bathtub is completely empty
a little water remains while the faucet is turned back on
anyway, soon the leaves will fall, the air will cool
the skies will change and i.....
well i will continue to dream, continue to push on
i push on.....i dream on
temperatures cool, cooler than normal
overcast skies and deep inner sighs
rains falling while the soul tries to rest
gentle rhythms of precipitation starting and then stopping
the chill of the lonely bed
warmth missing and the solitary body lies wanting comfort
sheets and comforters give some solace, but the missing
heart, the missing body, the missing embrace and the warmth
from it linger loudly on a bed and room of silence
temperatures cool, cooler than normal
and the man lays alone
and now there is an early taste of fall
was a nice change with the chill this morning
waking to a cold bed slightly shivering
no warm body to snuggle up to
to embrace, to hug, to feel
the illness although mostly gone slightly lingers in the
form of coughing and congestion
i feel ok though
well now, let's see, the wasps are nowhere to be seen
because of the rain they've gone dormant
the girl cats sits up on top of the television set
she's in the observation state of being
of course cats always are in this state
the boy cat is eating from the sounds of it
i can hear the crunch of the cat food
disturbed sleep lately, not much in the sleep dream area
my guess is due to the illness that now wanes from my body
the beauty of the body's immune system
i miss the warmth, i miss the comfort and safe feeling.
i miss you.
the mind wages war on the tomorrow
focusing on the now and remembering the dreams and
memories of the past. the dreams of heaven.
i wage on, i war on, i dream still
i sit here with my head in the vice grips of illness
sinuses have lost all semblance of in working order
my head hurts and my throat is perpetually needing to be cleared
i'd like to go to sleep and sleep through the entirety of it all
but alas, my biological clock wont allow me to do so
it forces me to feel and ruminate and then feel some more
the cats are somewhere around here and the wasps?
well, i haven't actually looked out at them today
funny how illness can change even the simplest of things
also had an insane crick in my neck lately
yesterday, it was nearly unbearable, today it's much much better
but still stiff and achey in spots
i dream of sunflower gardens and lilacs growing all over
i imagine a pond or small lake, birds chirping, breezes blowing
i dream of you being there with me.
the warmth of each other and the warmth of the sun shining
but, i sit here ill instead
i dream on
well, it's been cooler lately but still waiting for fall to get here
haven't had much to say lately and still dont really have much to say
the wasps aren't as active today, only seen one thus far
and the cats...well, the boy cat is sleeping in the bay window
and the girl cat is hiding somewhere, probably also asleep
maybe i too should be asleep as well
i feel ok, i guess, the war wages on on these frontlines
a play toy, a dogs chew toy, a cat's ball of yarn, a boxers punching bag,
a shooting range target, a color by number coloring bookthat sums up how i've been feeling lately, it seems
all i do is cogitate or ruminate or whatever word it is
i also dream, but lately, dreaming has been difficult
strength is waning again, will power is also waning
it's all like waves of the ocean, highs, lows, and the inbetweens
big waves, small waves, and sometimes even roaring rapids
you can swim or inner tube it or get a boat or surf board
there is also the option of drowning, but that seems harder
than actually swimming.
stomach growls loudly on a deafened mind
ignoring the rumble and beckon for nourishment for just a little while
and now i stare at this blank and empty wall
a small cobweb or spider web has formed up in the corner
near the ceiling, just another chore to add to the list of things to do today
and now....well...now i guess its time to answer the beckoning of my
growling stomach as well as begin to work towards the list of things to do
i press on and float away
the arid air weighs heavy on the shoulders of normalcy
normalcy that we all know well.
the arid air, although invisible and weightless
weighs so heavy that we slouch in our chairs and couches
we get massages and to go chiropractors for relief.
the arid air, hard to breathe in, hard to sense
persistently there, everyday, and more so on those
days when we're wanting change or a vacation
more so on those days when we think back on memories and dreams
the arid air, the oh so arid and stale air
it chokes, it holds, it pushes us down and holds us there
invisible, yet powerful, more powerful than flooding waters
the arid air, the arid and stale air
hot day
i feel ok, no sign of the cats today, probably see them later this evening
no sign of the wasps flying to and from the neighbor's roof either
hmmm, strange....really need a vacation from things
wouldn't it be nice to have a vacation from life
life as we know it, jump into a different life for a while
or jump into someone else's life for a change
that would be interesting.
but, the only vacations one can take are to another place
for a visit for a while. sight see, then it's back to
the stale arid air of normalcy
well, i guess i may never really know what the life of normalcy
is like, considering all things in my life now.
i had these dreams and ideas and desires
but watched them all slowly float out of my reach
is there really such a thing as a life of normalcy?
normalcy differs from person to person the way i see it
although there is a "staple" life or life of normalcy in society
with the getting married, having kids, and a house, and all.
a staple normalcy of having your own family i guess.
this dream, even though, there's still a chance for it, has
already begun to pass me by, although i try to keep my weakened
grip on it tightened so i don't lose it completely.
most dreams and ideals and desires, i've let go of long long ago.
some of which i was forced to let go of, others i let go of so that i'd
keep my sanity, and others well......time doesn't stop for anyone
there's no pause button or no slack for those that fall down.
im still riding in this car blind, blind through a cave during the
middle of the night, no sight, no sense of direction, crashing.
i still dream, i still hope, i still wish, i push on through to the spaces
and corners of my mind....of dreams and heaven
i push on still
my mind is blank and empty
the empty cup at least shows signs of
once being filled,
the empty plate, the blank blackboard
all show signs of being filled
i guess my mind does too with the memories
and dreams and pains and aches
the could haves and should haves and would haves.
i ache, my mind aches in it's blank emptiness
the girl cat is sleeping in her usual spot on the back of the couch
i wonder how her sleeping dreams are going, if she's even dreaming
the boy cat is in the bay window sleeping as well
and again i wonder how his sleep dreams are going, if he's dreaming
the wasps still scurrying in and out of the crack in the neighbor's roof
what cyclical routine lives they live, well, i suppose we're no different
than they, scurrying along going to work, taking kids to school,
cooking food, scurrying slowly to what and where?
of course i dont have kids so i wouldn't know anything about that
the hustle and bustle of the everyday, of the routine
the routine, with all it's struggles, all it's pressures
pushing you, pushing you and pushing you
to where and to what? and for what?
the cyclical routine of my writing
the cyclical routine monotony of my writing
who am i? where did the little ritalin boy go?
the boy that was unaware of pretty much everything, really
the little boy that was sometimes scared of the dark
the little boy with the unlimited imagination
the little boy that dreamed and wished and wanted
the little boy that tried his best......
oh well, thinking back on this is sad for me
i sit staring at a turkey and swiss sandwich
my stomach feels the hunger and yet i refrain from eating
and i type these words here.
anyway, the persistance of hunger and the lack of meaningful words
pushes me to eat now
i.......i........i dont know.
and so the heat arrives again with the high temperature
of 103 or 104 degrees fahrenheit yesterday
the wasps are at their usual coming and going from the neighbor's roof
the girl cat sits on the couch watching me,
the boy cat lays in the bay window
i feel ok, just ready for mid october temperatures to be here
my mind has been having writer's block lately, or so it seems
even now as i type this
there will come a day, when i will no longer have anything to say
rather it be death that silences me or just the monotony or pain of life.
i guess this happens to most people, really....eventually.......
being silenced by life itself, the monotony, the unpleasantness, the sadness
the oppressions, the hatreds, the rejections.
i wonder if one can be silenced by the good things in life?
hmmm, something to ponder as i meander along
i suppose there's a method to it all, but especially with having something to say
i haven't found that method, not that im searching for it,
i just write out when something comes to my mind.
like the other day something came to mind, but i only tossed it onto
the social media that is twitter and this is how it went:
"he took a breath in and held it with his eyes closed, just for a little
while.
time stood still as his mind rushed like the river waters.....and then he cried."
now when i read it i feel there's more to it:
"he took a breath in and held it with his eyes closed, just for a little
while.
time stood still as his mind rushed like the river waters.....and then he cried.
he cried just the way his mind's waters rushed as fast, as strong
the tears tearing at the fabric of his woven thoughts
gently woven together, delicately from experience and exposure"
anyway, the wasps fly, the cats sleep and they are none the wiser of the
waters in my mind
i write on, i push on, i hold on(the truth of it all), i hold on
i punch my time card the same as the others
i walk this line i was set to walk, channeled like a river through woods
there's no flooding over the banks when it doesn't ever rain
(this is not complete, or maybe it is?)
the weather has been magical the past few days
cooler temperatures and rains here and there
the girl cat is eating and the boy cat is not around
i look out the window here sometimes and i've
noticed that my neighbor's house has a crack
where two parts of her roof merge together
and either yellow jackets or red wasps have
taken up residence in there.
i watch them fly to and from the crack
during cooler temperatures, there's not as much
coming and going, but when it's hot out
they're always coming and going
when i sit and watch them i often think about how
i rarely think about them when i walk by that space
between the two houses when im taking the trash out
bittersweet dream last night when i slept
woke up with some tears on my face and pillow
i feel ok
im still wandering, meandering along
trying to hum or sing a nice song
but walking for this long
falling for this long
you have to wonder when you're going to crash
when you're going to hit the ground.
i push through still
1:32 am
it was a fairly bland day, i sat here thinking most of it
the randomness of watching a movie or two and some
youtube watching mixed in there.
been smoking cigarettes here and there lately
and i can definitely feel it in my chest
i also have that taste of it in my lungs/throat still
smoked about 5 or 6 on saturday night
and around 3 sunday night
listening to William Basinski's Silent Night
backed into a corner, he hides away
blending in with the wall and the end table
when i was a child, i used to crawl into the clothing racks/displays
that formed a circle and i'd crawl to the middle and look up at the ceiling
it felt so comfortable, safe, and strangely normal
this got me lost once at a big shopping mall here
and from what i remember it was a very surreal experience
there are scars on the tops of both of my hands right below
where the knuckles are that i got because of using them as a
way to run with my hands on the ground, they've been with me
ever since....i believe i must have been something like 6 or so
perhaps between 6 and 10 years old
i used to make random noises back then as well
my main noise was "whooooooop" or whooooooo"
i also remember that i used to somewhat act like the MadTV
character called Stuart acted
sad how it's mostly difficult for me to remember things
and memories from back then
to be a child, free from the knowledge of experience
free from the pain of brokenness
when the worst pain you feel is not getting what you want, haha.
or falling down and skinning your knee
of course i wouldn't go back and do it again, no thanks
i push closer to middle age now.....a year and a half away
part of me wants to fast forward to it
the girl cat sleeps on her pillow on the back of the couch
motionless, i wonder if she has dreams?
the boy cat is out of sight, but am sure he too is sleeping
as i wrote this the girl cat gets up and taps my arm
of course this startled me but funny nonetheless
i wanna crawl away into the center of a clothing rack/display
look up at the ceilings of whites or greys
and daydream forever, lost in dreams of beauty
those warm heaven dreams, those explosive passion dreams
crawl away......crawl away
sounds funny when i think about it,
i imagine my big body trying to crawl under to the center of a
circular clothing rack and trying to lay down in the middle of it
legs sticking out, bulky, buffoonish
as an adult, i want to lay there, light a wishing lamp and wish away into those dreams
i crawl away now, crawl into the center of dreams
i dream on
the cat sits still staring with intent filled eyes
focused on the ball of yarn on the floor
the ball of yarn sitting silent, solitary
unaware of the impending intent
the cat pounces claws extended, mouth open
the claws hit their mark and then some,
tearing into strands of woven fiber
severing some, snagging others
pulling some out and tangling the rest
the mouth bites down, the head shakes
then releases the ball of yarn and it hits the ground and rolls
the cat again focuses and pounces
claw and teeth tearing, cutting, snagging, pulling, and rolling
the damage, obvious
soon, the cat grows bored and moves on
then another cat sees the ball and history repeats itself
that silent, solitary ball of yarn
funny how similar we are to that ball of yarn
the heat arrives again melting the thoughts out of my brain
energy levels drop or is it that i'd just rather not be out in the heat?
maybe a combination of both
tightrope walkers and conversation talkers
attention seekers and people leaders
blind all the same
we've all got it all figured out, don't we?
i say nonsense, we're all blind
none of us know the way
those that stand out acting as though they have it all figured out
are the blindest of all, crashing into walls of thought and mindlessness
we have that commonality....blindness
i'm blind...my words, they're blind, my thoughts are blind
if we all understood our common blindness, maybe we'd love each other more
maybe we'd stop fighting and warring and killing and hating all the time
of course toss this heat into the mix and volatility ensues
this heat...both physical summer heat, and the heat of the world socially and "politically"
maybe this heat, has my mind in a madness enduced state making me
think upon these kinds of things or maybe there's more to it
this heat.....this heat.....
unusually cool temperatures here are welcomed with open arms
lots of rain and beautiful cloudy overcast skies.
my favorite kind of days....overcast and cool
unusual for mid july, but i love it nonetheless
feeling ok today, the struggle remains, but today is ok
strange dreams recently, well, my dreams at night are usually strange,
but the past few nights they've been unusually strange.
something like if Jiřà Barta, Jan Švankmajer, and David Lynch teamed up for
a collaboration film.
the girl cat sits next to my chair where i sit, the boy cat is somewhere else
in the house, probably sleeping.
my mind is a plethora of randomness and dreams and routine
also lingering is a desperate darkness or sadness
it hovers in the after thought spaces where my mind encases
dreams and potential.
the world has gone crazy lately, all pushing for hatred and war
falsity and deception has become the norm
truth has become a negativity, lies a deceit have become good
we've turn the world upside down, actually, we've reversed it
things that should be important are not, and things that are important should not be
barkers preaching peace with bombs and violence
innocent ones erased as though they were the removed lines in a students essay
the best way to stop fights/fighting is with love
when you're arguing with your loved one and suddenly give them a hug
the anger and angst seems to vanish, doesn't it?
we fight fires with water, we fight hunger with food
why cant we fight hatred and war with love?
we only fight hatred and war with violence, which in turn breeds more hatred and war
well, we'll all just have to wait and see what is to become of the state of things today
i push on
yesterday i, apparently, didn't hit the post button and hit the save button instead
hence the posting today
when i write, it's how i fight
a struggle to survive, to stay alive
during the hardest of times, the strength my heart finds
as the fight grows, my mind sustaining heavy blows
i hold strong, this war seems so very long
longer than any other ever before
i speak clearly to you, my words oh so true
decibels, volumes, and meaning, the words like moonbeams gleaming
brightly lighting up the dark, always that warm little spark
waiting to be ignited, like a volcano erupting, we're excited
warming elation fills all, we've answered love's call
a once dried up river is now overflowing with life abundant
torrential rains, inundating my brain with rhythms of pain
rains of tears and words that haunt my ears
neither confirming or denying my very few fears
warm thoughts glistening like the dew of early morning
all the while just out of arms length distance
teasing and taunting like a live bait on a fisherman's hook
mouths hungry for nourishment baited by falsity and tortures
lives hungry and starved for love and acceptance
with not much to say, he remains silent this day
no outside forces to persuade a formula of words....
i look tired, feel tired, and maybe sound tired today
the boy cat sleeps, the girl cat claws at her scratching post
my feet, arms, and head are still heavy
and yes i still imagine what my head would look like rolling
on the ground. my nose would definitely hinder the rolling.
or perhaps it would add a nice jump/bump effect to the roll
so it would be more like rolling with style.
rummaged through old boxes from my younger years the other day
found an old journal from when i was a teenager
it was my "alien" journal...i kept a log of ufo sightings that i used to see
it's funny to read it now....now that im older and tainted by experience
oh those teen age years, seems like such a long long time ago
they've been buried away, hidden like a lost treasure trove
buried away under piles of memories, heartache, oppression, and pain.
buried under piles of memories, happiness, warmth, dreams, and beauty.
the days are long and hot, sizzled brain, maintained by coolness and dreams
dreams of which sometimes have the opposite effect and
seem to taunt and torture me. keep me wondering endlessly
they even sometimes interrupt my ability to sleep at night
awaiting the next hour, the next day, the next dream
i sit
i've remained silent lately, with nothing much to say,
nothing much to write about without seeming like a broken record
the heat grows as does the humidity, soon july will be here
and the heat will increase, then august comes with it's oven times
baking us all into loaves of clumsiness and sweat and tiredness
seemingly baking the very life out of us.
i never liked the heat of texas summers, i've always preferred
the beauty of fall, the coolness, the beauty of temperatures
finally dropping down after long texas summers of baking in the oven
the colors, the dew, the fog, the changing of the leaves on trees, it's nice.
uncertainty remains constant in my mind, thoughts lingering on change
change while maintaining one fact, one thought, one emotion, one heaven.
most fear change, i embrace it the way a parent embraces it's lost child upon reuniting.
well, allergies kicking my eyes into watery redness annoyances
sleeping a little better lately, or so it seems anyway
the cats still live their pampered easy lives unaware of human realities
or are they unaware? this we will never know.
my mind hungers on.
untitled
i often wander through forests of people, finding it difficult to move
strangulated by their words, their oppressions, their hatred.
their branches of impeding complications and dramas.
their thorns of spite, their barbs of animosity.
sometimes i find another person like me, wandering.
we walk together for a while, searching for a way out of the forest
then we decide to meander away from each other
or differences and complications determine for us
i wander away trying to find some solace, but that was taken away
my feet move with a heaviness, my arms out weight my feet
my head feels like it could fall off, it too is so heavy
i think of how it would look rolling on the ground after falling off
wandering away does no good as i just turn from one forest into another.
more strangulating words, oppressions, and hatreds.
so, i will continue my meandering wander, my search for my solace.
the fire that burned up a good portion of his fields has been extinguished it seems.
the grass and vegetation is starting to grow again. warming sunlight shines,
a misty, light rain falls nourishing the scorched areas heavy hit.
these waters feed it all, they feel good, like getting your favorite meal,
like getting back to a state of normalcy, getting back the life you know and love.
there are people hurting. hurting so much, they look for ways to distract them
from the pain they feel.
they don't understand it yet, but those distractions will only add to the pain
they run from.
they run fast and hard, from each distraction to the next, like a marathon
runner going from checkpoint to checkpoint in a race trying to win.
they think it's easier to keep running or hiding or distracting themselves,
but it actually takes more out of a person to always run or hide.
but pain isn't easy...even the small temporary relief from it is good enough
to them even though it only adds up in the end.
some go to extreme lengths to run or hide from pain.
marathons of self destructive behaviours, some bringing temporary relief.
an assortment of new pain and problems arrive with each distraction.
the cycle continues
the fires burn out of control with no firefighters, containment is a must.
destruction spreads. life feeding on another life..such is how it is...
or actually how man has accepted things to be.
this was part of a journal entry
from 2013 sometime
it rained today, a solace in the steaming brightened heat of summer days
but oh the humidity it brings there after or the next day.
feeling better these past 2 days, there's still something in the air
people driving too fast, in a hurry to wait as i always say.
in a hurry to wait.
so many people, they have no idea that they've entered into my life
by the simple fact that i see them.
people who would stab me or you in the back to get ahead in the world
and yet in another instance put themselves in harms way to help/save someone
that was in a car accident or any accident of any kind for that matter
people are funny, people are strange, people are people are people
of course the people that put themselves in harms way are becoming
few and fewer as the days pass and time goes on. interesting actually
memories constantly flooding into my head like a raging and flooding river
from both rain as well as mountain ice and snow melting in the spring
my mind feels like it is in a room with solid white floors and there is
nothing in the room except those solid white floors
almost abnormally white and bright white like the fresh snow on a winter's morning
with walls of grey and memories lingering like walking into a home after
a nice meal was very recently cooked and the smell is thick in the air
or after a woman has recently gotten ready to go out and the pleasant smell
of perfume hangs in the air tickling the smell senses
oh how crazy this world is, this life, the normalcy of insanity
it's status quo now, it's status quo
writing during lunch seems hurried and yet it doesn't.
strange
it rained this morning and my head was heavy
my chest feels funny, my physical heart seems weakened
or feels that way anyway.
haven't been sleeping well lately waking up numerous times
throughout the long nights
something is different lately, not sure what it is but i can feel it in the air
a friend of years killed himself on wednesday, something is in the air
i sometimes go back and read my composition books
and i think what kind of nonsensical rambling is this
then i ask myself why i keep the books when im done
why do i write my thoughts and feelings down anymore?
therapeutic? coping mechanism? a cry for an ear to hear?
saying that just now makes me think of an older piece i wrote
called who am i where i said:
what ears has my voice reached and entered lightly or heavily?
anyway, it's nonsensical to think on these things
my bones often ache with really sharp stabbing pains in my feet and lower legs
discolored spots have appeared on my feet as well
i lay on this bed, which is older than i am alive, and i think.....
i think and i imagine and i dream and i feel
the boy cat often sleeps near my feet although lately he's been
sleeping on the floor near the window.
trimmed the beard way down, not as hot now, but the long hair
traps alot of heat though so there's that
losing my appetite here n there as well like today for instance, who knows....
i feel tired today, i feel old today, i feel discarded today
i think sometimes that if i feel this now, what is to come
when i really do reach 70 or 80 years old?
then again there's no certainty in this life
we're not guaranteed tomorrow.
i still think about moving to iceland
the surrealness of moving somewhere where you can not
communicate with anyone unless of course they speak your native language
trying to survive and starting a new life fresh
maybe then i wouldn't feel so alienated and alone all the time
the girl searching
she arrives at the club each night, hair perfectly done....pristine
clothing nice and fitting looking great and in a good mood
she searches for her answers, searches for some consolation
to make everything ok even if for a short while
she gets lost in conversation, in dancing, in drinking
she meets a guy, hoping he'll have the answers
they talk and exchange conversation for a while
then she moves on searching endlessly, watching for her answers
hurting often, crying here n there, but mostly avoiding it all
it's like a dance, she is here and there is the trouble
together they move in circles of form and posture
their dance will last forever, until she gets the answers she seeks
the consolation she wants, until the aching of her troubled past
is tranquilized with a reprieve of finality and closure.
she didn't know, when she was young, that some moments will last forever
those moments.....those moments in time
so it haunts her and taunts her each time she thinks
it changes her perception, her way of being to a different road
but she maintains as best as she can, as best as she knows how.
so each time she goes out to search she prepares thoroughly
hoping....yet afraid that one day she will find it.
so i try to maintain position in mind, but is it more just a simple refrain?
struggling like all the others, i abstain from the norm
my non conformity complexes my sense of normalcy
is that an oxymoron to have non conformity and normalcy together?
i feel ridiculous lately, lost and confused lately yet focused and clear
my troubled, hurting heart, my mixed and jumbled thoughts.
like everyone keeps throwing these sharp darts at my target heart
and target mind as if it were a game.......i refrain
it's hot today, didn't even want to go outside.
it's too bright today, my eyes grow weary of summer already
the long hair and longer than normal beard make the heat worse
and gives me zit covered nose effect for greater "enjoyment"
my creativity has dried up lately, haven't done any graphic art
in months, my writing has been ok it seems with the
occasional here and there's tossed into my mind that i spit out
the girl cat sleeps on her usual spot on the top of the back of the couch
she's carefree and energetic most of the time until the boy cat gets domineering
over her and decides to attack her randomly here n there, then she hides away
the boy cat sleeps in the bay window, sun shining onto his belly
he's carefree and lazy alot with the occasional hairball surprise he leaves here n there
how simple they live, free from the awareness that we all have
their awareness differs, obviously.
it's almost time to get another composition book since this one
is nearly full now.
there's is an alienation that's always been around since i can remember
the ritalin didn't help this. i always think back as far as i can,
but my memory doesn't really start till around 9 or 10 year old or so
the ritalin didn't help this and probably caused this, who knows
alienation, ousted from the rest, separate from all else
my non conformity didn't help this.
perhaps my non conformity came from the alienation
or maybe it's vice versa, who's to know?
in other news the dream i had last night really bothered and troubled me
i wrote about it yesterday, but posting it now isn't the right time just yet
been feeling tired and groggy alot lately, the occasional ache n pain dont help this
i wanna light a wishing lamp with you and wish away into a dream of heaven
who knows..........the randomness of my brain.....who knows..........
it's rare for me to post a journal entry without it being years old, but what the hell.
=)
as my petals wither away
i sit and wonder what ever happened
what in the world happened?
where did it all go?
i stood so tall, higher than the other flowers in this garden
my petals were so colorful and bright and beautiful
my fragrance floated through the air all day and night
i was the first flower one would see walking by or walking out
into the garden where i stood
people would sit and watch and enjoy being around me
couples would smile and nod in understanding
now.....
only now.....
now, my petals wither away
my essence is waning
i lean to the side now
no longer tall and bright
now im noticed by my withering away
withering away
withering
colors fading, brightness dimming
just an after thought of what was
my petals.....my bright and colorful petals
this came to me while listening to this and imaging life in a different light:
those old shoes have seen many days, many days of rain and heat and cold
many days of rain soaked, mud coated, gutter water splashing days
those old shoes tired, jogged out, stretched out, with worn down soles
many days of tossed in the closet, tossed on the beach, kicked aside
those old shoes forgotten after being donated, left behind after it's shoelaces
are tied together and it's thrown over a power line to hang
many days of being overlooked by those that wear them, rarely thought of
as anything more than just a shoe.
those old comfortable shoes, or uncomfortable for some,
you see, those old shoes that we all wear are more than just shoes
they protect our feet, keep them warm in the cold days
or cool in the hot days, they give a look of style for some
we also over look how sometimes the people in our lives
we sometimes treat like that old pair of shoes
this old pair of shoes will always be loyal
this old pair of shoes will protect more than just your feet
this old pair of shoes will keep you warm on those cold days or
cool on those hot and warm days
this old pair of shoes will always listen and hear what you have to say
this old pair of shoes will be more than just shoes, if only you'd
let them be.
this old pair of shoes, time and time again, tossed aside.
rain soaked, or is it actually tear soaked
overlooked time and time again
sometimes someone actually does give them more than just a passing thought
sometimes someone holds onto them.
but this old pair of shoes.....
this old pair of shoes is only just me
laying there, bare
if only you'd see
image? now hold on a minute and see where the real track lies....
image,
like a veil laid out in front of eyes that don't really see.....
a veil in front of eyes that dont really care.
a sense of falsity, a sense of acceptance albeit fake and unreal
image, worrying about what someone that dont even care thinks
image, portraying an untruth that isn't really there
image, covering up lies that one wont let out
a veil laid out in front of eyes that dont really see
and probably wont ever see because they're not really looking at all
threw some more on it, not sure if it's done now
but whatwever
Charles Bukowski said:
"There is a loneliness in this world so great that you
can see it in the slow movements of the hands of a clock"
loneliness? well, let me see, what does that even mean?
is it the sadness of not being with the one you love?
is it the sadness of not feeling loved anymore?
is it the sadness of not having someone next to you when you lie
down to go to sleep at night?
is it the emptiness of the room when only you are in it?
loneliness? well, let me see, what does that really mean?
is it the emptiness of a life void of a warming feeling?
is it the melancholy of the in between days?
is it the way that we gauge what status we have in society?
is it a sign of a lack of affluence or lack of good financial times?
is it the feeling from seeing a fancy car passing your old and used up car?
loneliness? well.....let me see.........
is it the solitary echos of sound of a person walking through a long hall
is it the sound that one must hear while on the moon?
is it the motion of a single feather floating through the wind?
is it the sight of looking in your passenger seat and not seeing the one you love there?
is it the beeping or ringing of your phone and not seeing the one you love there?
is it passing by a certain spot you used to share with the one you love and
triggering memories and feelings from them not being there too?
is it hearing that one song you both used to love and it hits you again that they're gone?
loneliness? well.....
is it the sound of person talking to themselves when no one else is around?
is it the motion of an injured animal in the wilds of africa?
is it the heaviness of the heart when love is lost or is taken away?
is it the way a homeless person must feel after a night of rejection from begging for change?
is it the emptiness of a dance floor in a club before the people show up?
is it the sound of a cold, cold winter's night with no wind blowing?
is it the state of an old abandoned building or house after the inhabitants are long gone?
is it the feeling that comes from being rejected over and over again in life?
is it the feeling of inadequacy that comes from being left behind?
loneliness?
well.....i think we all know what that means.
of course some of us know what it means a great deal more than others do.
let's not forget what that means
disclaimer: i was merely quoting Bukowski to set a certain mood
for what i was trying to portray here, nothing more.
i do NOT own or claim any responsibility for the quote of him that i've
mentioned here.
there is a shadow that follows me every single place i go
it follows me with every single person i walk with,
with every single friend i spend time with,
with every single step i take
there is a shadow that weighs me down heavily
it makes my steps in this life that much harder,
it makes me fall out of breath sometimes
makes me drop to my knees sometimes
there is a shadow that holds me down on the ground
it smothers me and tries to do me in
it tries to get into my mind and stop me from thinking
stop me from being positive and feeling good
there is a shadow that follows me every where i go
there is a shadow, a shadow
that shadow.
soon i will break free from it or it will consume me
time passes and the crowd changes, different faces yet the same people
the malaise lingers like fingers on the window still drawing faces in condensation
this one is short
maybe ill come back and edit/add to it
if and when i feel the need to
the ring left behind in the bathroom
the empty glass left behind at the picnic table
the wallet left behind at the gas station
the cell phone left in the car
the cd or dvd left at a friends' house
the jacket left behind in the car
the old toy left behind as the child grows up
the child left behind because it wandered off
the broken down car left behind on the side of the road
the abandoned house left behind to fall apart
the pet left behind to fend for itself in a parking lot
the broken down person left behind after a break up
the tears left behind after crying out in pain
the memories left behind after love is gone
the heart left behind, those hearts we all leave behind
those memories and dreams we all leave behind.....
when we die
the little boy goes to the toy store, he's not allowed to go in,
he's only allowed to look in and watch through the window
watching the other kids go in the store, watching them play
with all the toys and games,
watching them play with all those toys and games that he'd love
to have and hold and play with
kid after kid, he watches them one after another
he's just watching them from the window
in the cold or heat, in the rain or shine
wishing, dreaming, and wanting
the little boy gets older and grows up and he's no longer
at the toy store, but rather he's at the store of life
waiting and watching through the window
still not allowed to go in, only watch through that clouded window
he watches person after person go in
he watches them get all their dreams and wishes and wants fulfilled
sometimes, he moves on, floating and drifting from store to store
wandering and meandering seemingly aimlessly
often he's allowed to step one foot into the door
a tease, a taunt, a hint at the seams of dreams he's had forever
often haunted by the memories of old
"you're not allowed, you can't do that, you're not allowed"
"you are not allowed"
he still holds still, steadfast on his last remaining dream
who knows what will happen to that little boy
i'm unsure if this is complete or not
perhaps it's not, perhaps it is
cool air settles over warmer temps
was an average day, light amount of traffic on the roads
we lost ourselves to materialism and triviality
things like the way it was supposed to be and the should haves and could haves
we've also lost ourselves to comparisons....look at the hendersons' new car
or worst of all the celebrity bullshit
we've given ourselves much too high expectations
we'll never reach our goals or be truly satisfied or even surprised
when our expectations are so high
nor will we ever when we allow our decisions to be made for us
our expectations create limitations....
prevention controls our creativity and overall happiness
as i write this, i notice my handwriting seems more decayed and flawed
in the skill level of it and in it's appearance
probably due to having gone so long without actually writing
we've gotten used to technology
for some reason writing by hand feels more personal, more intimate
it feels more real than just typing it.
now we can begin to understand the drawbacks of today's "modern" world
the child walks with mom holding her hand, unaware of what life
could have in store for her, unaware of heart ache and stress,
innocently skipping along as she walks holding her mom's hand
time passes and will also tell what will happen to that little girl.
lost souls wandering aimlessly, searching for who or what they are
lost by the confusion this life throws our way
when we're young, we know the way, but life deters us from that
as we age till we're endlessly searching, crying, and dying
it sets us up for defeat many times, some of which we need
in order to learn, others we don't need and it pushes us further
away from the way....the way of innocence and oblivion
more and more times passes and we get pushed further and further away
till we're like a lost wandering child who can't find it's mother
all the while thinking we have it all figured out, that we know exactly
all the answers and all the solutions when we're all blind.
what am i doing? who am i? where is this ride taking me?
it will leave you behind in the dust and when you finally
clear your eyes it's almost too late for you
for some it is too late and even others are dead before then.
the balloon in the corner is losing it's air, deflating slowly
and surely till it's flat and gone.
in the meantime, the wind gently tosses it around
back and forth, wobbling and meandering along, no where to go
dropping down to size after size, smaller and smaller
i look through this water beaded windshield,
colours beginning to blend together like spilt watercolors on paper
the people begin to disappear, cars blurred with movements in passing
we all look through this water beaded wind shield
it is our perception and the water is our tears, our stresses, our pains
our sadnesses and loneliness, our broken hearts and broken bones
who am i?
what footprints have i left in the sands of life's beach?
where are they?
i search still, looking for those footprints i've left behind
as i've walked and walked and walked.
who am i?
where is my voice echoing now?
what ears has my voice reached and entered lightly or heavily?
i search still, looking for those ears i've reached, for those
hearts i've touched as i've cried and cried and cried.
who am i?
what photographs and memories have i left with someone else?
is there any at all?
i search still, looking and hoping to find one or two or any at all
searching for those photographs and memories as i've
ached and ached and ached
who am i?
WHO am i?
WHO?
perhaps this is complete now?
i dont know, but i'll probably leave it as it is now
i cry
i cry like a baby crying from its needs
i cry like a lost cub searching for it's mom
i cry like the howling of the winter wind blowing so cold
i cry tears like a river from the mountain peaks thawing in the spring
i cry
i cry so hard my entire body feels it
i cry so long time doesn't exist
i cry in ways i didn't know one even could
i cry
i cry for her, for how she might feel, for how she might be doing right now,
for what she is going through.
i cry because i cant be there to hold her and wipe her tears away
i cry because i cant hug her tightly and hold her close to me
i cry because i cant hear her beautiful voice, her beautiful laugh
i cry because i cant see her beautiful face, look into her beautiful eyes
i cry, i cry, i cry
his road uncertain, he sits on the rock watching and waiting,
patience is difficult for him sometimes, but he waits nonetheless
his strength wanes sometimes, but he always finds more inside himself
he wonders where she is, what she is doing, how she is feeling, now more
than he's ever before wondered and worried.
he wishes and hopes for sight of her to come
he wishes and hopes for the sound of her voice, the sound of her laugh
he wishes and hopes for the warmth of her presence, her eyes
he sits on the rock watching and waiting, hoping and praying
keeping strong as best as he can
he sees a cave in the mountains in the distance, but still he waits
he waits there forever and a day
