wounded...a journal entry of sorts

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play, if it is not auto-playing
and then read

well, the holidays are here again
they always bring with them some happiness,
but also alot of sadness
i see all the others my age with families and kids of their own
i see the beauty of contentment
and i smile in knowing that there still exists that magic
i cant help but to feel sadness in that i didn't make it to that
i didn't get to be so lucky as to have a family of my own
a wife and kids and memories made
a bitter sweet thing to relish in seeing that beauty
and then to come back to my reality
........those winds blow strong and harsh
it's even worse, though, when i see those that
have that beauty and that magic
and still they throw it away for selfishness
or take it for granted and toss it aside
all the while there are those like me who
dream of such magic and beauty
i think i think too much
i used to dream too much too, but that was beaten out of me
too bad my thoughts and thinking too much
wasn't beaten out of me too.
i can't understand the majority of the modern world
it's ways and methods of things
i can't relate to most anything and apparently most anyone
and even in the small and few things i can relate to
i am separated in those things
standing alone in a room filled with people
screaming as loud as i can and not a single person hears
it's too bad we weren't given a choice,
before the sperm and egg cells are connected,
to decide to connect or not
to be born into this world or not
i wouldn't have came into this existence
too many tortures and heartaches and pain
of which started before i was even old enough to have a say in it all
with the needing attention and falling asleep on the floor
with the Ritalin that destroyed parts of me
and in fact can be argued that it ruined my life
i had to take, unwillingly, that pill from the time i was in
the first grade until i was a freshman in high school
doing my best was never enough
and anything i did try to do, there was always a boot
stamping down on me to stop me
and then, of course, as i got older, the destroying of my heart
the destroying of me
.....those pains are the worst of them all
i can not bear much more pains
i fear them all, the pains and heartaches
forced to sit at card card table and handed cards to play a game that
i didn't ask to play, given cards that will force me to lose
forced to play a game that NONE of us know how to play
a wounded animal will often run off and hide away
in a cave or burrow or under houses or in attics
they hide away to either heal or to die
i too have ran and hid away
my trouble is i've popped my head out a few times too soon
i should have stayed hidden away for longer
perhaps, i think, i should hide away for good

thoughts after waking up from a dream

after waking up from a dream
i decided to write my thoughts 
based off of the dream
as always scroll down first 
and click play if it is not auto
 playing and then read 

he burned his middle finger on his right hand
on a car cigarette lighter when he was a kid
the scar, lasting forever, in the shape of a T
he burned his hand by spilling boiling water on it
the blisters bubbled up for days
he burned his ankle once when a burning ember
fell into his shoe after he stomped on a fire
it took forever to take the shoe off it seemed
but the worst burn of all is when he got burned
by his hearts desires
burned by the love of his life
the world has always burned him throughout the years
in various different ways and in different times
no ashes left behind, just a loss of himself
smoke rises in the form of mental haze
fleeting thoughts and memories
a billowing pillar, overcast skies
he wasn't meant for this world
his heart was too big for such small spaces
an easy target
he never truly fit in anywhere he went
with such a big heart, it's no wonder he
was able to handle so much damage and burns
the older he got, the more out of place he felt
when he was a very little boy
between the ages of 1 and a half to 3, he used to cry for his mom's attention
but mom, having a newborn daughter, couldn't attend to him
so he would wait for her at her feet, sitting and
eventually laying on the ground,
but he would always fall asleep
before she was able to get to him
so then she would just put him in his bed.
but he had no memory of this until his mother
told him in his middle age
but it would echo in his mind
it brought memories to mind that he had long forgotten
the comforting feeling of cool slate floor tiles against his cheek
as he laid on the ground waiting
then to lift his head up and feel of his cool cheek with his hand
he often thought that it was so much better in those times
because there was, at least, something to comfort and soothe him
even if it was the cool slate floor tiles against his cheeks
and often times those slate tiles would also have puddles of his tears
he remembered talking to birds through his bedroom window
eventually learning how to whistle to call a flock of
birds to the roof of the neighbor's house
he always dreamt that one day he would find the beauty of life
and live in eternal peace and love, but eventually that dream,
turned into a torture, a fleeting aspiration that, like all the
other aspirations and dreams he once had, he had to let go of
the world has been at war with him since the day he was born
but he is tired these days.
oh
    so
        tired...

10-19-18

as usual, scroll down and click play
if it is not already playing, then read

he's always followed his heart
through tall grasses, faded memories,
even through streets of golden elation
always following and trusting
holding for each moment
living in each moment, each hour,
minute, second
but, following his heart has always got him
to the same place, to the same pain
to the same tears and emotions that
scar him deeply
as far back as he can remember
his first valentine's day experience,
his first love, second, third, fourth, and so on
all ending in a broken heart, sadness and tears
you'd think he would become guarded and jaded
but not this one...still, he heads forward 
persistently hoping that this time would be different
hope.....yeah, hope can be a torture......
when will someone touch and hold this heart of mine
and cherish it as though it were their own
cherish it as though it was destiny
i hold my arms out wide, my heart and mind out wide
hoping for grace, hoping for the caress of eternity
but still lingers the clouds of loneliness
i cant see anymore, my mind is lost
i feel older and also i feel as if
i were late, like i am arriving late to something
melancholy is a strange thing when it persists
for an extended amount of time
i often times miss the happiness of before
i even miss the sadness i had then too
because at least then i felt something
at least then, the tears streaming down
let me know that i was still alive and
could feel beauty and sadness
but this melancholy as persistent as the sun
such an incredibly lonely thing
i, at least, want to feel something
even if it is sadness and tears
i reach out to others, here n there
but still left outside of things
even the ringing of my ears is deafening
compared to the silence i always hear
sure, i go to a social event once a month
to get my mind refilled with the beauty of live music
but then it's back to isolation
every once in a while a little sadness will creep up into
my mind and even a few tears will well up
but will quickly fade as fast as they came
as the lianas of melancholy choke everything into
a dark nothing, every thought or feeling
why did you take me away from myself?
........he forgot about the late fees
well, the fall season has come to visit again
cooler temperatures, leaves falling
sunlight shortening by the day
the weather has been wonderful lately
at least to me anyway, i love the beauty
of an overcast sky...the abstract ways of the clouds
lots of rain the past few days, but overcast skies
for a few weeks now, or so it seems
physically i feel ok, i guess
i just grow tired of this feeling melancholy
the girl cat lays behind me on my bed
and the boy cat sleeps in the other room
i hope the dragonflies visit me tomorrow
they sometimes like to fly around in the backyard
and seemingly fly by my window on purpose.
maybe that's just me reaching out for a feeling
reaching out to feel wanted and desired
reaching out into space to try to grab a star
reaching out....reaching out...oh god
i'm so incredibly lonely
reaching out to whatever

i hide away

as usual, for full effect, 
scroll down and click play, then read

i knew beauty once
impressions on walls of sweat
i dove deep into those waters and lost myself
"I've gotta go" she used to say
the world has always chewed me up and spit me back out
the women do too, especially the women
i knew happiness once
in the make-belief days of day dreams
i died regularly then
the hooks in my heart, in my back, my spine
oh the heart ache from those times
the make-belief days....yeah
Willy Wonka knew it well
but i....i followed my heart
i followed love........love...yeah
i followed it even though i could see it's future
always trapped between 4 small walls
no way to shout out loud
inevitability found it's way,
that which i saw from the start
i saw life once
possibilities and futures unfolded
but that's not the way things work
one too many times have i given myself away
opened up my worn and damaged heart
just to have it damaged even more
given it away and having it returned with a piece missing
until finally there was nothing left
oh fate itself must have cried a few times from such a case
such a state of things, who am i anymore?
and so i've withdrawn from everything and everyone
even a hermit would be envious
the days are a blur and i dont even drink anymore
not since the end of last year / beginning of this year
watching the world go by from a bedroom window
there is a slight solace in isolation
but the loneliness is striking
it always forces me to think
to remember things memories, mistakes....heart ache
i cant say i regret much, maybe one or two things
i was told once that i shouldn't hide myself away
because i would be hiding a treasure from the world
but i doubt a treasure would get it's heart beaten out of it
if i was a treasure, would i not have been kept forever?
yeah, i long for the day that beauty visits me again
that the warm embrace of a woman graces my world
oh lord, how i miss the scent of a woman
the grace of the air around them, their movements
their eyes looking into mine
desires, passion, emotions wild.
i miss the feeling of their skin
the feeling of sweaty hands from holding hands for so long
but alas, im a hermit, a middle aged, fat, hermit
not much to my name and not much strength left in me
not much heart left to give again,
not even really sure there actually is any left
with the mainstay of melancholy staying with me the past few years
and so i hide away, i hide from the world,
from the arrows and bullets aimed at my target heart
from the hunters that are hungry for more
i hide from potential
i hide from today
i hide from tomorrow
i hide from my dreams
i hide from life
..........i hide from myself

untitled

scroll down, click play, if it is not auto playing, then read

oh there were explosions,
volcanic eruptions,
heat waves that changed him forever
those times when he could feel his soul
dripping out from the holes punctured in his heart
         ......those quills are the sharpest
he knew he was at the start of the hardest of times
but he ran headlong into trouble
heartlong into love
surfing on the waves of eternal love
of all the times to get chewed up and spit out
this one was the hardest
this one was the worst of them all
the heart was crushed out of him
there were no punctures of the heart
there was just an absence of the heart
the feelings beat out of him
oh he stood tall for a while
but every tree eventually falls
no more wind blowing through his leaves
just cut up into logs
waiting for the fireplace, furnace, or bonfire
it's ironic because he wanted to build a log cabin
         ......that library book is overdue
did i tell you about that time we almost crashed?
oh wait, you may not know that i write about a woman
that does not exist upon this earth
my heart's desires rolled up into a ball
rolled out here for the world to view
the definition of pathetic
i've always written about a woman that was not real
a woman that i have never met before
oh i've longed to meet this woman that does not exist
i've imagined the beautiful times and experiences
that could happen
but i digress
he keeps to himself these days
rarely ever reaching out to any, if at all
he watches the birds fly, the clouds billow
and the insanity of the world
unsure of what the future holds
he just keeps his ears to the music
his eyes to the skies
and his heart, well, he's trying to find where it went
a dance of after thoughts

a series of interruptions and/or distractions
occurred while i was writing this
but here it is anyway

the mainstay

as usual, scroll down, click play, then read

the empty glass sits on the table
worn is the wood, splintered
dust has collected in the glass and on the table
the glass, the table, the house abandoned
outside, the field of knee high grass blows in the wind
and wild flowers dance there too
such a contrast
i look out across the field
my mind a haze as clouds and fog
begin to pour down across the field
wisps of fog and cloud skim across my face and body
oh i remember the way things once were
the gracefulness of pleasantries with loved ones
the elevated body filled with love
the days of carefree and friends
oh i remember the way things go by
the beginnings and ends
the lives we live
like a storm that forms slowly
and then suddenly begins to pour down
pour down, like the fog and clouds upon the field
like the tears from eyes wracked with pain and emotions
enough to fill that glass that sits on the splintered table
worn is the soul, fragmented
from each time a heart is given to another and then returned
with a piece missing
ah yes, i once stood in that field of clouds and fog
and dancing grasses and flowers
i sat at that splintered, worn table with the empty glass
tempted to disturb the tranquility of the dust and splinters
and the empty glass, but i dare not
break the laws of providence
and so i just simply become a part of the abandonment
blend in with the dust and cobwebs and splinters
but occasionally i have to look outside at the field
to watch and wait for the clouds and fog
the mainstay

this came to me after stopping and just sitting 
still in my chair doing nothing for a few 
so here it is 

4-8-2018 emotional

as usual, click play on the song
and then read away

00:42 (12:42am) 
sometimes i really want to write
the release of things from writing
a small reprieve from the pains and norms
but often times these days
there's nothing in me to write about
and so i stay silent
sure, i could write about the same things
that i typically write about
and then i'm a broken record
playing the same song over and over again
it might be a remix or a rework
but still the same song nonetheless
even this so far is a broken record
i don't know what's going on with me
with my life, my health
i don't know where i'm heading
or what's going to happen to me
sometimes i feel like i don't even
know how to go about figuring out
where i'm going or what is going on
sometimes i feel like i don't really care
that drive that was in me, seemingly gone now
once intelligent and now shells of peanuts
strength and will, driven out of me
sure, one could say it's still there
but just feels as though it's gone
what's wrong with me?
one would think that i'd have figured
out, by now, what is going on and such
hell, how can i give to someone else
when i don't even have a clue?
what could i bring to someone else
other than my love, but even that
it seems is not good enough for someone
to keep and hold dear
i'm middle aged, fat, and misaligned
i've got bad teeth and now in ill health
i can't help but to feel a little afraid
loneliness is putting it all extremely mildly
rarely ever does my phone go off
unless of course it's a wrong number
not a how are you or the likes
oh so this is what an abandoned house
must feel like
i don't even remember what a real hug feels like
or even a hug of romance, of love
oh love, how incredible it is
shit, i'm lost, can't find my home
i keep falling down and
something keeps stepping on me
while i'm down
oh lord, can i get some relief?
what little ways i have left
such a folly of things
anyway, the girl cat is sleeping in
her new bed on my bed
and the boy cat is sleeping in the other room
i have a headache and my heart is sad
and i wonder who else is thinking like me
i dream on.......nah, nevermind that
i'm waiting to see....nah, strike that
i just don't know what the hell i'm
doing anymore.......

4-5-2018 -- 4-6-2018

1:23am
well, let me see now where was i?
oh yeah, i meant to forget about it all
but i keep coming back
you know, the whole waiting thing
age creeps in and taps on my mind
taps on my body, letting me know it's here
high blood pressure visits me now
one more thing to drive me there
how loud can one yell before someone hears?
how many times does one yell before
realizing that no one is listening,
that no one will ever hear?
how lonely can one feel?
the loneliness of an empty mirror
the norm had become a melancholy
an absence of feeling anything until today
today was the first in a while of emotions
paying me a visit and oh did the tears well up
they flowed like the song of a choir
singing an elegy for the dearly departed
what songs do they sing?
the wind blows in through the window screen
with a slight hissing sound as it goes through
maybe that is the song they sing
well, at least they're singing that song for me
it seems to be and nary a voice is heard
just like mine, oh look a cricket is singing
but it's not singing for me, but rather for a female
to come to him, just like me.....shit
uncertainty, shrouded in mystery
shrouded in warpaint and armor 42 years thick
oh he tires, his strength does wane
it's harder more so than ever before
to get back up once he falls or is beaten down
sometimes he stays down for a while
well hell, i feel ok, i guess
outside of the high blood pressure anyway
the cats are up to their usual thing
with the sleeping and eating and dreaming
the overall contentment, such a life
my eyes are clouded, my head hangs low
my spirit wanes, my ember still burns though
smoldering, waiting for the fuel to come 
to flame up into an inferno of eternity
i see smoke all around me, evidence
of the flaming infernos of others
which gives me hope and yet also cant help
to not feel some slight hints of envy
oh well, rather stubborn or gluttonous
i wait to see what happens tomorrow
dreaming all the way

partially written yesterday and finished today
 

1-16-2018

12:12 AM  or  00:12

i just want to live out my days in....
well hell, the broken record repeats again
still goes the melancholy ways most of the time
except today, the emotions and thoughts overflowed
again and flooded my entire body until the tears
were forced to flow out, those rivers of pain
i'll be forty two in a few weeks
and i'm weaker than most, i'll admit that fully
even weaker than anyone else even knows
all i can imagine are ways to flee from reality
not because of that age, that's actually a comfort to me
but because of the hunters, the arrows and bullets flying at me
the vials of poison tossed into my face
because of the weights and chains and traps that
keep me from flying high in the sky
flying high in dreams of eternal bliss
oh god, i want more than anything to be
swooped up and caressed as i'm carried high high high
into the most beautiful of skies
i want the all the things that everyone else takes full advantage of
without even a thought about how lucky they are to have
oh how i've dreamt of all those brilliant and beautiful things
they really don't know what they have
some of them do though, and those are the ones that fly the highest
the ones that understand and see clear
my pleas fall on deaf ears or rather they fall on the pavement of highways
blown around by passing cars, by winds, ran over and crushed by tires and weight
or they're grabbed up and held for a while and then tossed back on the ground
well, at least the birds still sing their songs
and, unfortunately, the dogs bark theirs as well, keeping me up sometimes
the noisy neighbors have a dog now, to add to the
already noisiness that comes from over there
when will the winds turn in my favor?
when will the birds sing me a song?
when will the laughter of sheer bliss grace my ears?
when will the brilliance of eternal love grace me with forever?
anyhow, the girl cat sleeps in the back room somewhere
as does the boy cat, they dream in ways
and i....well, like always, im just waiting to see what happens tomorrow

the glass

the glass sits on the table in the room
the house abandoned long ago
there are signs in the glass that the water that
was once in it evaporated slowly over time
dust has settled and collects in it
let the walls be blue since that was his favorite color
the paint is faded and chipped
dust has also settled on it discoloring it slightly
and there are spots on the wall where pictures once hung
and even signs of the broken and deteriorating pictures on the floor
the couch sits in communion with the broken windows
it's color faded to mere shades of various greys
leaves have gathered on the floor, blown in
in some corners the leaves too have begun to decay
and create soil spots where life could possibly grow from
in a back room are signs of a child's room
various abandoned toys lie on the floor
an old toy box and child's bed are there
as are leaves that were blown in
an old doll is there, lying on it's left side
it's eyes staring eternally into the wall with a small tree growing out of it
part of the wall and roof are collapsed from the tree's life
the front door to the house is covered with boards and nailed shut
in most every room are signs of people going in through the windows
and wasting time with cigarettes and booze, even some graffiti left
the rooms sing songs for the wind that blows through
and for a small moment he felt happy to be able to hear them sing
if it was up to him he'd stay there in that house forever
dreaming the most brilliant dreams while waiting for the rooms
to sing their songs again, even if only for a while
he imagines what the house was like before
what the people that lived there were like
and what they may have gone through
but oh does the rooms' songs sound so incredible beautiful
oh but there's only one sound that is the single most beautiful sound
of them all, but he can only dream of that anymore
and so he focuses on the abandoned house that he photographed once
when he was 22 and thinks of the songs it once sung

this is based off of a real abandoned house that i 
went to and photographed about 20 years ago
and it's based off of how i feel lately 
it came to me while listening to this song below
for best effect, play the song and read it while the song plays 
and as always, thanks for reading

i want to be free

im afraid to spread my wings and fly
the hunters will shoot me down dead
so i stay down in the shadows and hide
i watch life go by in small doses, mostly alone
and each time i've ever tried to fly even just a little
the hunters and hawks swoop in and cut my wings
they cut my wings mid flight so i fall and crash down
sometimes another comes to me and we fly together
mostly for short distances and in short spans of time
then they're gone as if the hunters took them away
and when i sleep i dream endlessly of beauty eternal
and when i day dream i try to stay there as long as possible
but always the reality of my world hits me hard
and my eyes fill with the emotions i keep hidden
i dream of being saved from the hunters
of being able to fly as high as i've always wanted to
as high as i've always dreamed of
i hope for someone to come that wont break my wings
someone that would love to fly as high as me
and that would love to fly the endless skies with me.

came to me a few minutes ago
thanks for reading