Yesterday I sat at the window
And gazed at it all
Stared at the landscape
And scenic trees that moved
The wind that blows
Heavy falling snow
Falling snow
It's falling
I'm falling
Scattered and frozen
Over cold ground
Dirt and grass that I can't see
And I can't hear the still
On this side of the window
Now outside
I'm falling
I've fallen
I'm lost
Thrown into the wind
Landing heavy on branches
Sprinkled on like dust
White over the white that was
Blending into one
It's just static to the eyes
I am nothing to the eyes
Maybe you'll see me
From the window
Where you stand
And gaze


I could be okay
With just the right words
And a fluttering in my chest

Extravagant colored flowers
And they would obscure everything

If I could be okay
I wouldnot have to think
Or feel what is not there

And I could be okay

But the words never come
I'll never have the flutter
Or see extravagance
Thinking will not stop
And I'll always feel
And maybe it's not all there

Just paranoid.

Born Again - No Motiv

I set the fire ablaze
lit it from far away
found it out yesterday
Called it a big mistake
a wake up call for me
figured it would be
That the story of this man
never was a plan
incompatible worlds we can't control
But that's the way it's always been
circumstantial human beings
By the way I'll be ok
so why aren't you the first to say
Today I'm born again
Call it a big mistake
to see it fade away
but the problem's not with me
So now I'm twenty two
feeling kind of blue
because the same thing's happening
Instead it's now my friends
the choices we all make
could prove life long mistakes
But I don't want to see your life fall right on through your hands
By the way I'll be ok
so why aren't you the first to say
I wish this never happened
I wonder what my life would be like now
if things just kind of went my way
Today you're born again
so now you're twenty-one
with no worries
Now you're twenty-one
with no worries
now you're twenty-one
Only twenty-one years young

July
Cobwebs dancing - sparkling - layered over soil and grass
Captured in the setting sun
While tiny insects dart around
And only a gentle stirring in the leaves
Barely a breeze - scarcely a sound
Everything is green - only slightly brown
Where the sun beamed too long
Pavement still radiates the day's heat - it's warmth
Until well into the night
Then smells of bonfires invade through open windows
After the sun disappears and the moon rises up
And the draft moving through refreshes
The house will cool down - the crickets will sing
But it only reminds me of you.

Upward
Maybe I'll finally do it and break out of this habit
I always have the best intentions
It's so easy to make resolutions and positive thoughts
when it's just been finished
And it's almost night
But don't mention it in the morning
Cause by that time I will have forgotten
Only a vague memory of those "good intentions"
The will is now lost
Under dark sky is the time for motivation
The 9-5 is where it ends
When the sky lights up
And again it will begin.


Fly On My Paper
There's a fly on my paper,
But it won't stay too long.
There's no garbage or food on my paper.
He'll just fly on.

June 16? I don't know.
I feel like I should write something and get into the habit of writing things maybe. But I always think this, huh?
This time I guess I just mustered up enough motivation to actually do it. But I don't know what to say anyway. I have no profound thoughts. And nothing significant enough nagging in my mind - at least nothing that can be formulated into thoughts my mind understands.
There's nothing there. Really.


Normalcey Normallcy Normallcey Normalcey ?
You, there was only
You, now there's nothing
Really, there's nothing there.
There's nothing left
And I will maintain that.

There's nothing more I can do. But sometimes my eyes get wide and there's a little glitter and sparkle, because I've just had a revelation again. I'm incapable of holding on. I can't remember. I can't hold on, and it's leaving. It's left.


I wish I could still run forever, but I get out of breath. Through fields of flowers and the warm embrace of wind pushing dark clouds away. Bringing clear sky and clarity to my mind. A bright vast expance before me. Canvas of endless ideas and proper punctuation. And forever late nights with stars in the sky - and it's still blue. I wish I could be bright blue too.


The Most Dangerous Thing
Comeback.
I've lost my mind.
I lack.
I'm lost.
LOSER.


It's not my time.
GO GO!
Can I come?
Will you come with me?
Will you still say "yes" tomorrow?
Can we go alone?
Can we have no interruptions?
Will you feel concerned for me?
Will you only feign interest?
Will you pretend to care when I talk?
Can I not be interrupted?
Can you not laugh at my ideas?
Are my thoughts really that absurd?
That you have to laugh at me?
Do you think I don't care?
Why don't you ask questions that matter?
Why won't you find out what I do?
Why don't you notice I'm unhappy?
Can you tell if I lie?
Is this
The
End?


I put my trust in things that won't matter and people who can't care. It seems so detramental, but they don't know so why should they care.


Too Afraid To Say Goodnight
I am too afraid now to go to sleep. I am too afraid to say goodnight.
So farewell now.
The day is done.
Maybe I will see you
Again when the day is new.
But right now I'm too afraid. I don't want to say goodbye. But I try.

Too many things make me sad now. It's really hard. Things that should be happy make me sad sometimes just because I look at the negative aspects. Or maybe I just like dwelling on things that make me sad, because although it's not a great feeling, there's somehow comfort in that. And when I feel knots form in my stomache at least I know I haven't died.

But everything seems so difficult.

May 11 2006
so I went on a vacation. I expected to get annoyed a bit at my friend, because that's expected when spending long periods of time with someone. But we came back home. And now I'm just laying here thinking.
Everyone seems to see me as this very calm and relaxed person. But they're wrong. I hate being mimicked in my emotions and responses to certain things. So I am slowly not showing them anymore. It's not intentional. I only really realized it now. And maybe it's not all the time. Actually, it is all the time. But there are times when i'm able to push it down and laugh with everyone else or whatever the case calls for.
I think maybe I'm getting paranoid. I'm always suspicious of people. Even people I've known a long time. i have a hard time believing people would like me for no other reason except that they like being aroun dme. I don't think I'm entirely pleasant.
I often say things just to make people feel stupid... Not exactly for no reason, but moreso to disagree with them, even if it's very slight. For some reason a lot of people I am friends with seem to have no opinions of their own and have to agree with everything I say.
For example: a recent conversation:
Suz: I can't believe people like whipped cream on their coffee. Whipped cream is so gross. I hate the taste and the texture.
Me: Yeah. I don't like it on my coffee. But I do like it on certain pies.
Suz: yeah, that's alright then. But only if it's a little bit.
Me: My favorite coconut cream pie has a thick layer of whipped cream on top. Pretty much equal height to the pie.
Suz: Well, as long as it's equal. Then it's good. I like whipped cream and strawberries on waffles.
Me: I don't. I don't like cut strawberries (such as you would put on waffles) and whipped cream together. The strawberry juices make it runny and soggy.
Suz: Me neither. I only like fresh strawberries on it.
Me: They still make juice.
Suz: Well, not as much.

This frustrates me. It makes me want to hurt myself. It always happens. Why can't people have their own opinions, or rather, my friends.
I guess a professional would blame it on my friend's low self-esteem or something like that, but I have opinions and my self esteem doesn't exist. I can barely post sentences on message boards on the internet for fear of someone making a negative comment. And if they make a positive comment, it's almost as bad because I don't know what to say back - if I should say anything.


There's a fence that separates the properties. It's worn, old and brown. Some planks of wood are cracked or rotted through, and I don't recall the last time it saw a coat of paint. It's been climbed on, climbed over and walked on. Parts of it torn down, driven over or blown by feirce wind. But it still stands as a marker between land - still serves it's purpose - it's meaning - fulfills it's design, although it's ragged and sagging, and the weeds grow tall. And someday it will droop and fall and promptly be replaced.


I heard you said you missed me
I hope you know I miss you too
And I won't hold it against you if you want "us" back
because that's what friends do.

Please, swallow your pride
It's been out of my hands for some time
Please, tell me you miss me
And your anger has passed on with time.

I heard you've changed a bit somehow
I think so have I
Maybe you'd be like a stranger passing by
But I hope you still have that something inside.

But I heard that you miss me now
And I wondered if you meant it enough
To tell me those words yourself
And we can get on with the "us".

November
It's been over a year, and you would count the stars in my sky
I could feed off your words and not be lonely inside.

You struck the match
Maybe I set the fire
and our whispers burned to the ground
The night sky lit up
Smoke rising high
And I'm alone.

I think about you everyday. I wanted you to stay.
I'll always be your friend, but it would never be the same

But I'm lonely now and it's over
I'm lonely now, if only we could have had more time.


March 21 2006
And that's how it's done.

I was driving along to work, down through the industrial area of town where sidewalks don't exist and traffic is more sparse, and I spotted the telephone pol ahead. It was solid wood, strong and sturdy. I passed by these numerous poles. So repetitious, with my eyes fixed on one in the distance. For whatever reason, this was the one. The object of my well-planned point of attack. It looms closer, gradually becoming larger - taking on a look that is somehow bolder and more extravegant than the ones on either side, extending rows upon rows. Because this is the one.
My car collisdes. A direct hit. And I feel the rough grains of wood splintering against my face as the vehicle wrappes itself and clings around the telephone pole.

I don't know where the time has gone. I think whatever force keeps each minute 60 seconds long has sped itself up. Each minute is now 30 seconds long, and we'll all die when only half of our lives are spent. Half of the years are wasted.
I can't remember at least half the things I do, and the other half are so prominent in my mind as if they only just happened. Because half of my life is gone and ceases to exist. And whatever I did during those missing minuates, hours, days, years is forgotten and none of it ever happened.

What do you do when you want to stop, but it's too much work to do anything else. Maybe you've shut off your mind so you could ignore that nagging voice you know is good for you. To turn it back on is like realizing your whole life is too simple, and your brain has become mush.
So you try to revive it. Make it think and learn, but it's strenuous and tiring. It's hard.
And it's difficult to remember a time when your body and all it's parts worked for you and did as they were told.


Travel
I'll write a traveling song about golden grass and grey shacks, sparcely populated towns and dirt rising up. We'll go on a road trip. We'll drive the day away. We'll hope for the best. How long will we stay . . .
Water towers and grain elevators. Populations of nothing declared at town's limits, and why would anyone live here, under cloudy skies - with their boring lives.
We'll long for a fast drive out of this hell, past the brown, rolling hills. And I can count - one - two - three trees. There's only the fence posts, and we'll watch as miles go by.
And we'll go by - exit signs, mile signs, the tell-tale signs that we'll soon go crazy. Passing by the barren towns, the dust, grime and dirt - the water towers - the grain elevators and overpasses. Fence posts flying by and barbed wire barely visible to the eye. I'll write a traveling song and hope the drive won't last too long.


12:31
I do it to myself, and it's unfortunate, because I'll never know what might have been or what adventures could have progressed. It's probably better this way thought. It'll save myself the hurt that I know is inevitable in the long run, because even this short run stings. I'm not so good with people. I guess it's good I like to be alone. And maybe I'm lacking in detramental skills. You know, the type that stop me before I say too much. They say mystery is important, but I'd rather just know it all where relationships are concerned. When I get along with someone, I would automatically like to know the things that make them happy and the things that make them sad. And I would know right away what to do if tempers flared, and I'd stop them from being mad. But life doesn't work that way. It seems in my attempts to be as open and honest as possible towards people I feel inclined to know better, it all backfires and nothing will be had to do with me. Maybe I'm more abnormal than I thought. Everyone tends to think they're something special when it comes to their habits and emotions, but everyone is pretty much the same. Although personalities differ, the feelings still come up and are the same. And I don't want to say I'm different or apart from the norm, but other people, for the most part, are able to meet people and carry on meaningful relationships, but somehow this never works for me, even when I try. I have my friends who stick around, who I have known for years, but quite honestly, I can't comprehend how they would still want anything to do with me. I'm not always the nicest person and sometimes am downright sarcastic. I never fail to point out their stupidity or ignorance, yet they're still there. So mostly I'm sad about relationships I might have liked to keep, but never had the priviledge to find out because before I could properly know the person, they pulled themselves out of my life and into obscurity.

I just want to write, but I never do. I never know what to say. So I'll write whatever pops into my head.

Stars on trees and the summer's breeze are things I wish for. A swing in a tree would be nice for hot afternoons. The universe is changing and shifting, and i wonder how long before everything's different. Sometimes I think I need to meet him and then everything would be better. i would feel happy and maybe he would too, and we would "hit it off" so to speak. But I know better, and those are only thoughts that get to entertain me sometimes. Things would be awkward and neither of us would know what to say or what was supposed to come of this meeting. So mostly I think I live in this imaginary world. When I'm faced with my life, I just feel too sad. So I think of situations and stories to make me feel better. Or sometimes I just pretend I'm someone else in a worse situation (not that I'm in a bad situation) and go with that for awhile until I fall asleep. I find it hard to accept what my actions could eventually lead to. I'm not naive, and I know what happens, but maybe I don't want to think it will. Maybe as long as I ignore it, it won't matter. It's 12:14 so I've only been writing for about two minutes so far, but my hand already hurts. I remember when I was much younger and would stay awake all night filling notebooks with silly stories about silly people. I was happy though, I think, for the most part. Because that was before things really mattered. And life consisted of best friends, slurpees and riding my bike. And it sounds so good, but I would never want to go back. Even though I feel like dying a lot of the time. I hate that time.
One page gone by. I'm tired. Maybe I'll be able to sleep quickly tonight. I'm tired of lots of things though. But I still have to do them day after day. And sometimes I just chose to do day after day because I can't leave it behind. But things out of place make me anxious, so maybe I don't know what I want. Maybe I am just out of place in everything. I wonder how he's changed. If he's better. But he was never really in trouble. He was always strong. Maybe I would still really respect him. But now he's just a spark in my imagination when I want to feel good momentarily. And I wonder if he thinks about me or knows I still read his journal. I get excited a little bit everytime he makes a new post even though they're very sporatic. But then I know he's still okay.


I'm tired now, and I have to be up for work in 6.5 hours. But I don't really care. Tomorrow is Friday. I wish I could just stop wallowing in self pity. It's really very stupid to be sad about things I could do something about. Like when I feel so alone. It's not that hard to call up someone to go for coffee or whatever. But apparently it is, because I never do it.

Maybe I'll have an anneurysm one day.

She's been annoying me lately. Maybe it's a cycle where she does, and then briefly she won't. But I don't know, I just try to act normal which can be very easy considering we rarely see each other, and when she messages me it's only ever a few lines of text and the conversation stops.
I guess someone could analyze the situation and conclude that I am jealous of her future marriage, but truthfully I'm not. I see it as neither good nor bad - mostly because I don't see anything changing from the way it is now. So mostly it seems non-existant to me.
But I am sick of hearing about the wedding. I don't even want to be a part of it. I don't like that sort of thing, but I am sucking it up.

I wonder what's going on with certain people I never see anymore and haven't seen for a couple years. Nolan for one. I just keep thinking about him lately. He randomly pops into my head from time to time. Things keep reminding me of him. So I wonder. Not that I bother asking anyone who might know. I'm content just to wonder and maybe I'll run into him somewhere, sometime.

So I'm tired.

I am bored. to death
And I just want to die
But I'm bluffing
I know it
It's all just a lie
What I really want is self worth
And a reason to respect
I feel so fucking screwed up in my mind
I can't stop these thoughts in my head
So for right now
And at this moment
I would really rather be
FUCKING DEAD.

12:19pm
When I see you looking over that bridge, I get a feeling in my soul, and it makes me sick. You're looking over the edge but the sun's shining bright. You are so out of place in all that is right. The sun's reflection off the water down below is giving off a strange type of glow. Maybe it knows that you'll be there soon. Right where you belong in the depths, in the dark. So that's how you died that one lovely day in June.


We'll always be together. People come and go. But we're different. Our friendship's forever. I promise. - But you lied.


Tonight when gazes rest on me and eyes peirce my skin, staring daggers will not penetrate. Now I have my haven. I can be safe. Soft fingers entwined with my own. Strong arms to pull me in close. We'll break the noise - the distractions and retreated into our own hush. Our silence. Only wispers, gentle kisses, warm embraces. And I never want to leave.


Loss = Motivation version 1
"Write me a song, about what, I don't care."
It's not as simple as that, my friend
To quit the procrastination.
Lay aside these things I love - and I hate - the destruction
Throw away the numbness, the saddness, whatever obstruction
and I encounter it all.

I would climb 40 foot brick walls for you.
But I'm lacking in everything, thought I want to
I'm looking for substance and meaning - a reason to live.
But my body - my heart - it's stuck and won't give.

I know that it's been a long time, my friend
And I've never forgotten what you asked
I guess losing someone is enough to break the cold
Surrounding me - and break my heart
Cause I'm feeling lost
And being left behind can make me feel enough
To write the song you asked for.

Matter-Of-Course
Rose petals falling around me,
and I know it's snowing inside you.
I'll dance in the vibrant red's and white's,
Lift up my arms and raise my face towards to sky,
To catch the petals on my tongue,
Where they melt and disappear
And dissolve until the whites of my eyes turn red.

You'll watch. Yes, you'll smile.
Humor me awhile,
Until you part your lips,
And the cold breeze emits, tinged with ice and frost.
Rose petals shrivel and weaken.
The color drips out, spotting me crimson,
And they shatter, covered in ice when they hit the ground.
The only remnants of color is now a dead, and dirty, rotten brown.


11:19
This season's so short, and I can already feel it lifting and being blown away. The leaves are all golden. Even in the softest breeze, they flutter to the ground as light as snow flakes. Pave the street with vibrant hughes of yellow and brown, and the sun still shines. And sometimes happiness can still be victorious.


This language is a hindrance when I can't locate the proper words, or maybe it's just the limited knowledge of my mind. I want to reign victorious over this trivial thing, these letters formed to derive some understanding. And sometimes these words are so detramental in my ability to be alive - Not merely existing.


Some individuals can write for hours and produce fantastic rhymes and deep, important meanings about life. I'm stumped in a matter of minutes. It seems if I could turn off my over-active mind and let the ink flow as it wills, maybe I could find some great answer to everything. And I could be okay with this information. I could move along and function normally. This would be alright.

Some of this stuff is incredibly old. But I'll maybe slowly get it all up here.

Winter
I have come to see no more than the dead carcuses of the living. The wind blowing and rattling the bones. For no sun will shine here beneath the thick cloud of darkness for many days to come it seems. A blanket of white tries to hide the dead with gray limbs protruding obscenely through and the bones still swaying in the wind. In this winterland of death, each new stroke pierces my heart til there is nothing left. And I wake to find it is worse than I thought. Dirt fallen from the sky. Let's bury the dead and I watch sitting by the window.

Happy Happy
Once upon a time in a land far away, ther was a little girl, on her bed she lay. She thought about all the things in her life. She thought about all the trials and strife. Unhappy and discontent, she wanted something with meaning, something that ment- something to her on those dark cloudy nights when no stars would appear to give off their light. For when all the struggles seemed just too much. Some sort of guidance to get her through and such. One day she came across the music that glittered and sparkled. It's dark light shining bright, she could only marvel. How could this be? something so perfect. So understanding and wise. She could not believe it. The guitar sounds so brilliant, the bass bold and daring, the drums are like heaven sent and the singing so amazing. So she listened to it day and night. She now had a fire inside buring bright. She listened for days and for weeks on end. This lovely music never left her head. She'll listen forever and sing along til her voice is gone. She'll remember when we were all so beautiful and she will write her first love song. The years will pass, but the music will go on. Her devotion will not waver, it will be strong. The fire will be insider her forever. It will not leave her, not now, not ever. Even when the time comes on the day that she dies. Silent in the casket she will lie, until everyone's gone and the earth around her not a sound. Until she's burried far below a big dirt mound. Then her voice will be clear and the songs will play on. They were never gone. She'll lay here forever in the dark, all dead. But the fire ignites. The music will never end.

Beautiful One
One morning I woke up, the sun was blood red
spilling the sky wide open, I slowly crawled out of bed
I can't understand this sadness I feel
But i reach up a hand to wipe away a tear
my hand comes back slick, it's red and it sticks
my eyes pour out blood, blood and tears mixed
I'm fully awake and I know this sadness
My stomach twists in pain, my mind whirls in madness
My whole life is gone, broken and shattered
My heart explodes and the pieces scattered
this feelings emense and i wish i was dead
I can't stop this pain, my brain pounding in my head
I'll never make it through the day
I cannot live this way
It feels like barbed-wire swallowed down my throat
I wish i would just fucking choke
I could take some thread, stitch up my heart
threads intertwining each little part
But blood still spurts through, and it will not mend
cause this is how it feels to lose my best friend.

A Culture
The streams are all dry, cracked river beds with no water flowing through. The husks of flowers are all that remain. They cannot be restored, never renewed. The trees are all gray, twisted and knarled, barren and black, raging and snarled. Drawing blood from those who pass, thistles still thrive. They need no other moisture, and thorns know nothing more will survive.
Do you see the beauty?
Built by a culture,
Formed just for us.
Can you remember the beauty?
We are all dying,
And our attempts to live are not enough.
We cry for love. We scream for help. We long for belonging, some sort of understanding. Hide in the shadows. Close off our hearts. Be a statue, be strong, because none of them will help.
Here is your world. Why do you cry? Do not look so tortured even though all that is here will fall and will die. Isn't it wonderful? You are condemed to this place. You'll die here alone as we suck away the joy, and all that is beautiful.

Simon
when you left you stole the light,
and this brings me to devastation
since you've left there's been only night
pitch black darkness,
no sunrise in sight.

heaven would be a better place
if you were there.
maybe heaven just couldn't wait
maybe it didn't think we'd care
you left too soon and left no light,
but maybe heaven doesn't even have you in sight.

so this is it and i guess we're all fucked over.
there is no success in this generation,
only pain and problems occurring and hearts getting colder.
i feel only dismay, desolation is strong.
i can find no comfort here. i'm alone with my sorrow.

One Dance
I asked you for this dance
as the music played on
but neither of us know the steps
and damn it feels so wrong
my feet are like lead bricks
scraping the floor raw
YOu don't seem to have the timing right
I really hope no one saw

So we dance this dance
as our lives waste away
and we still dance on
as the music plays
I feel im bruising up the floor
making marks black and blue
but we dance this dance
we have no more to lose

My body is all weary
the floor bleeds where i move
I want to stop dancing
I thought you did too
but something here has changed
you're looking so much better
You've found the steps and timing
attentions all on me. I'm the center

I feel like all eyes are on me
i wish this song would stop
we all know this music never ends
it never pauses, never stops
this spot light is on me
I can't do this anymore
sweats running in my eyes
I need to find the door

everyone watches me
but i feel so alone
you're not even with me anymore
i dance alone
the floor is bloody all around me
i stop dancing, i stall
I look at all the things in my life
It's a wasted dance and i fall

I Stand Alone
watching, waiting, wondering. The sharp wind biting at my face. My hair tossed about in the breeze. I stand alone on a barren plain and the long dry grass seems to wisper my name. Calling out to me like those it called out to before. They were barried long ago. I am motionless and caught in time. While everything around me moves swiftly by. The clouds passing overhead, speeding, rushing past the dead. The mountain spitting out a flame and I think that I shall surely die here on this plain. Sputtering a dry cough from the mountain. Red, hot saliva shooting out like a fountain. Ashes falling all around and i know the end draws near. I shall surely die here. As I stand alone.

I Died
You stood right before me
Eyes staring blankly
Mouth gaping open
I stared back bravely
Your body convulsed
And then flies burst forth from your mouth
They ate out your tongue
Then they flew away south

Your eyes met mine briefly
So confused and in pain
I reached out with a knife, cut you open
and let your intestines drain
out of you they fell
tumbling onto the floor
Miles and miles of your gut
spilling out red and sore

You opened your mouth wide
You started to scream
But you're coughing and hacking
You can't wake up now, this isn't a dream
Now gasping for breath
You are choking, don't choke!
You hack out your voicebox
In blood it is soaked

Blood dripping out of your mouth
Try to scream but it's silent
I lick your blood with my tongue
My, I'm feeling naughty, so violent

The taste of your blood swirling around my tongue
It's like copper, it's bitter and rotten
But I get a sick, queasy feeling
Blood falls from my eyes
I am looking in a mirror
I fall and i die.

My Valentine
Fingers clawing at my skin
Digging further deeper in
Beads of blood forming patterns
Down my chest but nothing matters
And blood splatters, breaking through my bones
Hitting smashing them with stones
Working fingers in through tissue
Rearrangings not an issue
Grab my heart into your hand
Hold it beating and expand
Rip it out and hold it there
Raise it high into the air
Close my eyes and start to fade
And look at all this pain you made

. . .
A dripping noise below
Nothing more than a trickle, really
I didn't have time to close my eyes,
So they stare, wide open, blankly.
There is no breath left in me
No breath within
I am numb
I am gone
I am dumb
I am done
There is nothing in me.

Stupid Is My Name
We're back to the beginning where warmth never is and sickness is prevailing. The presence of light is a shocking occurance, because the light brings happiness, and I've never heard of tears of joy. We embrace death. Where else is there to go? Who you care for most doesn't feel the same towards you. They hide themselves away far beneath the dirt after the act of breaking your wings, tearing them off, and leaving them for the wild dogs to eat. But I'm still alive. My blood may be lost, my hope and my faith, but the heart still beats on dull and echoing the hollowness inside. So is it better to be, or to not be at all?

Photographs In November
I will remember the smell of flowers
The heat on my head, the sun on my back
The air is so fresh after rain showers
The fragrance of everything, and pavement hot beneath my feet

Because all is lost when the sun sets low
The leaves fall and crunch under my shoes
I can see my breath, and a cold breeze blows,
Laced with icey air. it surrounds
Everything it touches, and it's not long before it snows
Covered in a blanket of white
So beautiful and bright
Radiating the sunlight
The snow in the streetlamps at night
Looks so lovely, it might. . .

Begin to melt the next day
Trickling and running down the streets.
The blanket of white will not stay.
The one thing in winter that's wonderful
Turns from white to brown and gray
As it's showered in slush and in dirt.
So just remain inside and lay
Huddled in blankets for warmth
And hope the next time the beautiful white will stay
Or summer will come
And all of this will go away.

Dig Pretty Graves
I am making lists of what I am and hope to keep. They're scorched with flames and charred beyond recignition, because they can't be kept when I can't remain the same. Try to follow rules, strict, drawn lines. Well, they're frail and thin, so easy to ruin. Trample them into the dust. Oh, look what I've done. I've turned this into a graveyard with headstones looming, heavy and dark over the dead. Holes being dug ten-fold because we can't keep up with this death. "But they're so young", and they''ll die quick. Know the way to go. Be beautiful, have no patience, change all on your own. For vanity, for greatness. But we're digging our own graves deep to hide ourselves. Look what we've become. Put yourself on display and gorge on admiring stares. Live for those comments. Be envied, be choice just like them who dig their own graves and pick out a stone angel to rest atop, crying. "Oh, they're so young", and they'll die quickly, but i like it that way.

Bereavement
The stars would ignite. Lit up - burn bright. Take their places back in the night. Shining their beacons of hope and of light. Fly across the heavens, wonderous, luminous. Trails of stars lined through the sky and all that is in sight. And this is how it was.

I can't have it back again. My heaven is gone. I'm alone. The stars are burnt out, surrounded in pitch black. I'm alone.

Condemned to feel this loss forever. Broken promises, future promises not fullfiled, not ever. Sorries worth nothing, and perceiving only lies and mistakes - dominant, prominent in your mind. You'll never forget that, and my regret is not enough.

Let the angels sing. Let the light consume. - The voices ring.
Let the warmth return, spread through myself and engulf. - I've learned.
Discard the harsh, sullen cold. Sweep away sentiments of pain - feelings of being lonely and old.

But I can't find heaven. I can't get it back. You meant what you said, when you said you don't care, and you feel there is nothing you lack. I'm alone, and I can't have you back.

All I Want
All I want is affirmation. We know failure, and we are alone. A hunger to believe we belong, we can't truely obtain recognition, because being critical is love. And all I want is love. I've been stabbed in the back too many times to count. The scars and scabs testiments of my loss. Wounds remain highly overdue - the blood trickling out much longer than I can remember the circumstance. Dragging myself through the dirt by my fingernails, all I want is to stand straight. But I carry my own knife. We kill ourselves. We hurt. We despair. We know we're inferior, but let's feed off each other's insecurities. All I want is something real. A covenant to stop this recklessness. But we are careless and have passion only for the pursuit of greatness. So let's murder each other. Let's kill ourselves. For this is true satisfaction. And all I want is satiety.

The Sidewalk
Sidewalk.
Mimic me. Copy me.
Follow me. But watch your toes.
One red ant. Don't step on the crack.
Sand by the curb. And little stones
that hurt small feet. But I won't care.
Two black ants. One bumble bee.
Don't move. Be still. Don't sting me.
The sidewalk on a hot summer day.
I can feel the heat. The distant sound
of happy bells. And ice cream not too far away.
The sidewalk is innocence.
Is barefeet. Sun-drenched skin.
Dirty fingers. And mismatched clothes.
Where the bumble bee's the threat.
The red ants.
And the heat on bare little toes.

Did You Know?
Did you know I loved you?
But you're gone in the blink of an eye.
Everyone will die soon.
Everything makes me cry.
And I love too much.
The sun sets too fast.
I don't want to believe in endings.
It sickens me that nothing lasts.
I can't repress the loneliness,
When someone I care for says Goodbye.
When it's premature, before it's time,
And do you know I love you?

Turn It Up
Turn up the sun now
I want to live

I want to be someone
Turn on the lights now
I want to burn

200 candles -
Flickering flames -
Warm, glowing light

Turn up the street lamps -
The lanterns, the flashlight
Drown my eyes, hot and bright

Bring out the search lights -
The flood lights, the rescue light
Hazard lights flashing red and blue and white

Turn up the sun now
I want to be alive.

Fucker
Comfort is a thing of the past. It can't happen and it shouldn't. Comfort creates relaxation and happiness, a sense of well-being, and the feeling that nothing can go wrong. It's all a false sense of hope, because hope doesn't exist. It's shattered and broken and scattered. So you pick up the pieces and glue it back together, but it's not as good as it was. The cycle goes on until holes are apparent and pieces are missing, glued together in the wrong places, stitched up with patches of cloth and all torn around the edges. So this is hope, and it cannot be. It's broken because you wrecked it. It’s broken because it doesn’t exist. It’s broken because I am.

I told you so.

I hate to say it. And I won't to the people it's meant for. But right here, right now - I told you so.

Sometimes I wish I was wrong more often, just so I wouldn't feel guilty about being right when being right means unpleasant conclusions for others. Like lack of jobs for example. Then she ignores my text messages because she should have done what I told her to do. Maybe she still wouldn't have gotten the jobs, but at least she would have found out sooner, and more likely, she would have gotten the position/s.

But I hope my predictions for other people are wrong. Due to certain things taking place, I predict babies, bankruptcy and alcohol in the future. I won't name names. So far it's just debt and hanging out with people who are bound to influence in bad ways. I guess I'll see how this goes. Hopefully, I'll be wrong.

Hanging Marionette

And stripes on fire, these hands are tired. I'm making plans to drink away all these words I can't escape. I have to try to make you stay. Because I'm alone, stay with me this time. Because what I'm feeling inside, I'm troubled or maybe I'm blind, but I just can't see how this is helping me. The stars are burning bright like the light that lights your eyes. Why couldn't I see that you were leaving? Because I'm alone, I need someone to be my friend. But I can't take anyone who can't stay until the end. And the stars are burning bright, the smoke is rising high, the stripes are on the street, from the mountain to the sea. Because friend you've done me wrong, left the spoils to the strong and preyed upon the weak, there's an end to you and me. Because a friend can understand that there's no trust to be had. You're just bouncing on your strings, a puppet on a screen. I'm not sure when you left, but it started with that theft, it seems it's been so long.

- The Appleseed Cast

WTF???

Everyone has cell phones now. Even me. Most of them come equipped with extras, like cameras. Although they can be very convienent at times, they can also be great for stealing people's pin numbers, looking up girl's skirts, or whatever - Not that I've had that happen to me.

But as of today, I now feel paranoid and violated. I'll admitt that I wasn't really watching. I just saw out of the corner of my eye. Maybe the guy wanted a photo of some baked goods at Safeway, but that seems unlikely.

So, there I am in the bakery section checking out the mini cinnamon buns, when I see out of the corner of my eye some guy approaching. He stops near me, facing me, and I hear the sound cell phones make when taking a picture. I look up, and he's walking quickly towards the check out where some other people are waiting. He looks at his phone quite pleased, and then points in my general direction also looking pleased. The girl looks at me too. I walk away.

If they were Asian tourists it would be forgivable.

But what the fuck?

This bothers me.

I don't really have anything to say.

Except that soynuts are delicious.

And that Mila is much too hyper, but still cute, so I guess it works for her. She wouldn't leave me alone tonight. She kept running into my room, pulling herself up on the chair, grabbing the computer mouse and attempting to make things happen.

This is where I come in...

So, it won't be too much longer now, and then Melinda and Adam will be married. Mr and Mrs.... Whatever his last name is. Really, though I have an awful time remembering his last name. It will come to me.

Lacey's getting married too, in June. I honestly do not know her fiance's last name. I've never really hung out with him either, but then again, pretty much the most Lacey and I do anymore is coffee every now and then - usually at work.

But anyway, Melinda's been doing wedding stuff slowly, but nothing really that I've helped with. I think I'm supposed to help a bit? I am the maid of honor - Maid meaning I do stuff for her? I'm not really the best person to count on for stuff such as that. But my mom is making her dress. Tomorrow night will be the first fitting/measuring. I will be present, and I will try my best to fulfil the duties that will bring me honor... or Melinda honor?

I'm not trying to sound like I'm an awful friend or something. I care a lot about her and her wedding. But we're all pretty low-key, mellow people the majority of the time, and we really don't expect the world of each other. We know we can count on each other when it's important. But I've already told her not to anticipate any sort of wedding shower "parties" thrown by me.

Adam's been working on the rigs for the past month - coming home every couple weeks - So I think this will make their wedding even better for them. At least, in my opinion, I think it would. They'll have the excitement of seeing each other all pretty, getting married, and then getting to spend a month together traveling. I've already been informed by them that I may crash their honeymoon sometime mid point (around California) if I so choose. I'm very much so considering this vacation.

Pretty much it just seems like things are starting to take off with this whole wedding business. It's pretty exciting actually. The only worries I have somewhat, are : What's going to happen when they start having babies? Are we going to take babies to shows with us?

I'll get them earmuffs.

Construction Zone

Slowly everything in the house is getting replaced. Appliances, floor... The wall colors are always changing, because that's something my mom likes to do. That is nothing new. It's still the same house, but it's so different from when I was young.

I kind of miss trying to roll around with my brother's skateboard on the flat, cement-like, brown carpet that was in the basement, or playing lego, building forts out of every blanket and chair we could find and eating cinnamon toast while watching Saturday cartoons. Of course that's long gone. It's sort of weird how carpet can remind me of things.

Soon, my parents plan on replacing the refrigerator upstairs which means that one will be relocated downstairs, and the old fridge will be discarded. I sort of can't wait for that to happen, although, I suppose, that maybe someday looking back, I might miss it. That fridge is from like the 50's or something. It's kind of neat looking. The downside is that the icebox area drips into the fridge area and makes everything soggy. Mostly though, I look forward to the day when I can reach for the fridge handle and not cringe in anticipation of getting electrocuted or at least shocked painfully.

So, old tv's get tossed out and bigger, better ones sit on the stand instead. Home theater systems, art on the walls, furniture you don't get stuck in upon sitting on it, and we still don't have cable tv.

I can't believe I made another of these...

Since I can't be bothered to come up with something great to type about at the moment, I'll post what I wrote earlier on myspace:

I thought I should maybe write something concerning 2005 and it being over. It's been okay, it's been somewhat life changing, and I'm starting to feel old.

The okay part comes in because I've gotten to know some really neat people this past year, attended a whole lot of shows (mostly during the summer), and traveled. Bad stuff happened too, like with Grandpa dying which is maybe really just more sad than bad.

As stated above, travel was definitely included in the past year. I think this is the part that most defines 2005 for me. I realized that I am capable of almost anything I really want to do. Not in the sense like "try hard and you'll succeed". But previously, I was pretty limited to where I would go, and if there was some show in some far off location, I immediately wrote it off as unattendable. Driving to California last April with Lacey really changed that for me. I don't feel so confined, and maybe feel a bit more confident in myself knowing that I'm capable of functioning without my parents or anyone of that sort, near at hand.

Okay, so until September I was only working 5 hours a day for the most part, but since then I've been working full-time hours, and it makes me feel old... and stuck. I don't know if it's a huge, bad thing right now. I always thought it would be impossible for me to work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week because of the boringness factor, but I've done it. It's not so great, but it's not so bad. Most importantly, it gives me a lot of money.

I'm not going to make any new years resolutions or whatever. I just have my goals that I hope to achieve in some time period... that is hopefully not too far off.