Sing me sweet lullaby's in a war zone in which Zionists frame the jealous for Palestinian deaths.
Rock the small me in a cradle next to a copy of Anne of Old Green Gables as we live old Greek fables in Athenia.
Purchase me from a Chinese convenience outlet in Beijing-like Downtown San Diego; let me go when no longer I am of any real service.
Think of me when you're swimming in a sea of sound in an HMV; music makes you free, or freer than the freest philosopher, who can't find it within himself to have a voice.
Murder me in my sleep, so my dreams, I can still keep, and all the benefits of my imagination I may reap with guiltless greed.
Call me Candy; Randy the handy man with the hand grenade he made to raid Obama.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Chapter 2
I wanted something, and I didn't know what, so I fought and I kicked and I struggled. I struggled to the point that my brain became an illusive mess of elastics wrapped around my past, present, and future, tugging to the point that one of the 3 would have to give, followed by another, leaving the final elastic to lead me forward, backwards, or nowhere at all.
The first to give was the past, which vaulted into my unprotected and unexpecting face like a misfired slingshot, lancing the top layer of my cheek a vague red which felt slightly raw and pulsed every time I ran my hand over its now microscopically uneven surface. The next to give, to my shock and surprise, was the present, despite the very real fact that the elastic attaching me to my future had been stretched to the point that only a thin fray now held it in place, and even that connection seemed to be rapidly deteriorating. In fact, the band tethering me to my present had appeared quite loose the last I had checked, peering over only once during my doomed balancing act, in which I wasn't sure whether any of them were meant to break at all.
The past and present now detached, and my face still experiencing slight spasms of pain, I looked backwards one final time and saw a major player of the past 8 months, having removed themselves in the present, and as such, seemingly in the future as well, glancing back at me on her way towards her future, with a longing stare which stopped me for a moment as I stared back.
Fixated on her face, I saw the feigned smiles meld into the real ones, and the expressions of annoyance fade into the expressions of complete and unrequited anger to the point that it was all too hard to tell which was which. Part of me burned with hate and mercilessness for her, recalling the heart-break, humiliation, and pain she had caused me, while another part tingled with a mix of empathy and forgiveness, knowing she, too, had been and still was going through trial and tribulation of a similar nature, if not worse.
Regardless of what I felt towards her, I missed her. We had been best friends, and I had made a series of painful mistakes which compounded themselves below the painful mistakes made on her part. Feeling her close to me, physically, in any environment, always made me wonder if she felt the same pangs of sorrow I did from time to time, or if she ever felt fond nostalgia over what we had created together, yet had not the resources to maintain within both our hearts and our minds simultaneously.
I nodded at her and began to tilt my head, and as I was doing so I heard her whisper: "I'm not gone. Our paths will cross again, and they will cross for the better. Trust me." Although I registered what she had to say, I didn't bother with a response as I began moving forward, allowing the elastic band attaching me to my future to become progressively looser and looser... yet I hadn't taken 2 steps more before I heard her utter one last provocative ensemble of words: "Everything... absolutely everything... happens for a reason."
I simply allowed my strides to continue, unabridged.
I'm close now to the first finish line in my life; closer to my future than I've ever been before, yet that can be said with every passing day, hour, minute, and second, I suppose. It just feels more tangible then it ever has before. It feels so real.
No longer is it an abstract 'someday.' It's now a very real 'then,' with a date, and a time, and a cause and effect. Or perhaps a lack thereof.
But I've still got a path to endure, and the final moments of an adventure to live out before the next chapter begins.
So here we go;
Brace yourselves for Chapter 2.
The first to give was the past, which vaulted into my unprotected and unexpecting face like a misfired slingshot, lancing the top layer of my cheek a vague red which felt slightly raw and pulsed every time I ran my hand over its now microscopically uneven surface. The next to give, to my shock and surprise, was the present, despite the very real fact that the elastic attaching me to my future had been stretched to the point that only a thin fray now held it in place, and even that connection seemed to be rapidly deteriorating. In fact, the band tethering me to my present had appeared quite loose the last I had checked, peering over only once during my doomed balancing act, in which I wasn't sure whether any of them were meant to break at all.
The past and present now detached, and my face still experiencing slight spasms of pain, I looked backwards one final time and saw a major player of the past 8 months, having removed themselves in the present, and as such, seemingly in the future as well, glancing back at me on her way towards her future, with a longing stare which stopped me for a moment as I stared back.
Fixated on her face, I saw the feigned smiles meld into the real ones, and the expressions of annoyance fade into the expressions of complete and unrequited anger to the point that it was all too hard to tell which was which. Part of me burned with hate and mercilessness for her, recalling the heart-break, humiliation, and pain she had caused me, while another part tingled with a mix of empathy and forgiveness, knowing she, too, had been and still was going through trial and tribulation of a similar nature, if not worse.
Regardless of what I felt towards her, I missed her. We had been best friends, and I had made a series of painful mistakes which compounded themselves below the painful mistakes made on her part. Feeling her close to me, physically, in any environment, always made me wonder if she felt the same pangs of sorrow I did from time to time, or if she ever felt fond nostalgia over what we had created together, yet had not the resources to maintain within both our hearts and our minds simultaneously.
I nodded at her and began to tilt my head, and as I was doing so I heard her whisper: "I'm not gone. Our paths will cross again, and they will cross for the better. Trust me." Although I registered what she had to say, I didn't bother with a response as I began moving forward, allowing the elastic band attaching me to my future to become progressively looser and looser... yet I hadn't taken 2 steps more before I heard her utter one last provocative ensemble of words: "Everything... absolutely everything... happens for a reason."
I simply allowed my strides to continue, unabridged.
I'm close now to the first finish line in my life; closer to my future than I've ever been before, yet that can be said with every passing day, hour, minute, and second, I suppose. It just feels more tangible then it ever has before. It feels so real.
No longer is it an abstract 'someday.' It's now a very real 'then,' with a date, and a time, and a cause and effect. Or perhaps a lack thereof.
But I've still got a path to endure, and the final moments of an adventure to live out before the next chapter begins.
So here we go;
Brace yourselves for Chapter 2.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
There's a problem with society when...
... "you girls should make him work for it," yet don't work for him yourself.
... we need pills to fall asleep, we need pills to be happy, and we need pills to assist our digestive systems. Even if you require none of the above, the fact that they are available says something about our weaknesses.
... we play life like a game of Monopoly, looking to acquire the whole board and avoid jail-time, only to realize that, in the very end, everything has to go back in the box; back to being meaningless inanimate objects until the next player sits down to the board and looks to win by full acquisition, only to end up following the pattern and putting it all back in the box once they are done with it.
... people care more for how they look than they do about the people in their lives.
... we are incredibly protective of our material possessions, yet more than willing to remove 'undesirables' from our lives without a second thought.
... what we have is never enough.
... we go on shopping sprees just for the fun of it, yet neglect to realize that every purchase is like pulling a trigger to assist the gears of a destructive cycle which creates vast amounts of waste so we can purchase useless clothing articles, pieces of plastic, virtual worlds, or candy.
... we waste our time watching hours upon hours of anime, cartoons, sitcoms, dramas, or movies simply because we enjoy such vegetative states; it either says something ill of the individual, or it says something ill of society if people feel compelled to waste their finite time on the planet like so.
... there is such a thing as 'planned obsolescence,' in which products are designed to break so company's can profit from our buying replacements or upgrades.
... things cost astronomically more to buy than they do to make.
... things cost astronomically less to buy than they do to make.
... we'd prefer to be ignorant.
... we need pills to fall asleep, we need pills to be happy, and we need pills to assist our digestive systems. Even if you require none of the above, the fact that they are available says something about our weaknesses.
... we play life like a game of Monopoly, looking to acquire the whole board and avoid jail-time, only to realize that, in the very end, everything has to go back in the box; back to being meaningless inanimate objects until the next player sits down to the board and looks to win by full acquisition, only to end up following the pattern and putting it all back in the box once they are done with it.
... people care more for how they look than they do about the people in their lives.
... we are incredibly protective of our material possessions, yet more than willing to remove 'undesirables' from our lives without a second thought.
... what we have is never enough.
... we go on shopping sprees just for the fun of it, yet neglect to realize that every purchase is like pulling a trigger to assist the gears of a destructive cycle which creates vast amounts of waste so we can purchase useless clothing articles, pieces of plastic, virtual worlds, or candy.
... we waste our time watching hours upon hours of anime, cartoons, sitcoms, dramas, or movies simply because we enjoy such vegetative states; it either says something ill of the individual, or it says something ill of society if people feel compelled to waste their finite time on the planet like so.
... there is such a thing as 'planned obsolescence,' in which products are designed to break so company's can profit from our buying replacements or upgrades.
... things cost astronomically more to buy than they do to make.
... things cost astronomically less to buy than they do to make.
... we'd prefer to be ignorant.
Friday, April 22, 2011
The Moment, or, Go Do.
Where was I, when you were alive?
Was I sleeping, dreaming, kicking, screaming,
Staring in wonder at the bright stars a-gleaming?
Where was I when you were crying?
Was I thinking of life after dying,
Seeing as it was, or blind and sighing,
Where was I when you were crying?
When you were born, what was I doing?
Was I speaking, walking, peeking, stalking,
Dancing, singing, laughing, mingling,
Looking, lying, toking, trying?
Where was I when you were on the beach,
Staring out towards the sea?
Perhaps I was taking a pee,
Or sipping my hot cup of tea?
Where was I when you were sleeping?
Perhaps I was in mid-air, leaping,
Or watching as MTV was bleeping swearwords.
Where was I when you fell ill?
Was I parked up on a hill,
Waiting for life to arrive
With a plan it did contrive?
When you were driving,
Or tidying,
Perhaps on a snowboard somewhere, sliding,
Was I alone at home and hiding?
Or on the bike somewhere, and riding?
Maybe I was wide-awake,
Or laughing with my friends, while baked,
Or greasing a pan to bake a cake,
Contemplating what makes a lake.
Or perhaps I was asleep and dreaming,
and lost in my subconscious readings,
With avatars of all my friends,
Buying a Mercedes Benz.
Where was I when you were wasted?
Was I laughing at old hatreds,
Staring at a crawling aphid,
Or in the shower, and stark naked?
Where were you while I was thinking?
Perhaps you were awake and blinking,
All the sleep out of your eyes,
After dreaming of cute Albanian guys?
Where is everyone this second?
I mean, this specific second,
As I write or read this poem,
Perform it for a crowd so wholesome,
Where am I as you read this?
Up on a stage and fighting fears false lisp,
To make sure all of these words are crisp,
Or eating bread with ham and swiss?
Are you dead, or are you living?
A minion to society's bidding,
Or policing streets and finally ridding
Pavement of the hobos twitching out of crystal meth?
Perhaps you're firing a gun,
Or you've found the only 'one,'
To love through thick and thin, till death;
Or thinking, "Wow, poor old MacBeth."
In this moment, is it all;
So listen to the moments call,
And cancel all your texting plans,
And use those thumbs to grasp the hand,
Of a loved one next to you;
"The day before" was never true,
So there's no better time for you,
To look for some more love to brew.
So get up, and go do.
Go do it.
Was I sleeping, dreaming, kicking, screaming,
Staring in wonder at the bright stars a-gleaming?
Where was I when you were crying?
Was I thinking of life after dying,
Seeing as it was, or blind and sighing,
Where was I when you were crying?
When you were born, what was I doing?
Was I speaking, walking, peeking, stalking,
Dancing, singing, laughing, mingling,
Looking, lying, toking, trying?
Where was I when you were on the beach,
Staring out towards the sea?
Perhaps I was taking a pee,
Or sipping my hot cup of tea?
Where was I when you were sleeping?
Perhaps I was in mid-air, leaping,
Or watching as MTV was bleeping swearwords.
Where was I when you fell ill?
Was I parked up on a hill,
Waiting for life to arrive
With a plan it did contrive?
When you were driving,
Or tidying,
Perhaps on a snowboard somewhere, sliding,
Was I alone at home and hiding?
Or on the bike somewhere, and riding?
Maybe I was wide-awake,
Or laughing with my friends, while baked,
Or greasing a pan to bake a cake,
Contemplating what makes a lake.
Or perhaps I was asleep and dreaming,
and lost in my subconscious readings,
With avatars of all my friends,
Buying a Mercedes Benz.
Where was I when you were wasted?
Was I laughing at old hatreds,
Staring at a crawling aphid,
Or in the shower, and stark naked?
Where were you while I was thinking?
Perhaps you were awake and blinking,
All the sleep out of your eyes,
After dreaming of cute Albanian guys?
Where is everyone this second?
I mean, this specific second,
As I write or read this poem,
Perform it for a crowd so wholesome,
Where am I as you read this?
Up on a stage and fighting fears false lisp,
To make sure all of these words are crisp,
Or eating bread with ham and swiss?
Are you dead, or are you living?
A minion to society's bidding,
Or policing streets and finally ridding
Pavement of the hobos twitching out of crystal meth?
Perhaps you're firing a gun,
Or you've found the only 'one,'
To love through thick and thin, till death;
Or thinking, "Wow, poor old MacBeth."
In this moment, is it all;
So listen to the moments call,
And cancel all your texting plans,
And use those thumbs to grasp the hand,
Of a loved one next to you;
"The day before" was never true,
So there's no better time for you,
To look for some more love to brew.
So get up, and go do.
Go do it.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Pale Blue Dot.
Our everything is virtually nothing to the real everything; but it is something. Something very small... beyond even incredibly small. In comparison to an individual atoms significance to your physical make-up, our planet alone is one of the atoms within the atoms atoms atom. Invisible and insignificant; the universe would continue quite indifferently were we to disappear.
Sleep Deprived in the Midst of the Western World.
Have you ever been exhausted? I mean, truly exhausted. Exhausted to the point that your eyes blur, so you blink, yet like a windshield during a rainstorm they blur again and again and again, so you continue to blink to clear your vision, make the blotches of color crisp and visible shapes of reality, and not simply a series of pixels interpreted by your brain.
I'm talking the exhaustion where you notice things like the grayer spots on poles, or the blotchy metal blob that seems to get more glare than it gives, in contrast to the rest of the pole, that seems to give more glare than it gets.
I'm talking the exhaustion where your dreams become a part of reality, yet not in the sense that they are fulfilled; more in the sense that your chasing them becomes more of a frustration as they both physically and mentally manifest themselves into your waking life. An exhaustion that requires coffee and caffeine, yet eventually the effects of both become blunted to the point that you feel like passing out regardless of your feeling of superficial awareness.
The exhaustion where a road ahead seems like it will stretch into eternity, yet at the same time, you will be safe, silent, and sleeping in your destination before you even know what happened.
An exhaustion within which all is feasible, yet seems improbably possible.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
I wanted to put this as my Facebook status, but it didn't seem all that appropriate, I guess. I'm not sure why it didn't. It just didn't.
I realized something today.
Behind every 'player,' wannabe-player, boy who is now reluctant to seek out love and instead wishes to indulge in friends-with-benefits, or man who has put-up emotional defenses and taught himself to look no further than sex or sexual encounters, there is a woman who broke his heart.
This doesn't apply to me so much as it does to some people I know, and looking back, I realize there really was a woman (or, at this age, a 'girl' might seem like a more appropriate title) that broke their heart.
I know that after my most recent thing with a girl, I am not looking to love anyone for awhile, and am very much content in being single for the time being. Although, if a shot at a relationship does appear, I think I'll make an attempt at friends-with-benefits. If it goes further then that with the individual, well then... we'll see. Unlike the mentality presented by 'ladies men,' or wannabe ladies men, I have not lost my faith in a love that will one day come and will not end in a broken heart (save for maybe natural causes resulting from the human condition on this planet earth; in other words, death).
I also do not plan on getting divorced. If I go into a serious relationship where my gut tells me it will only end in divorce, I will refuse to marry them, and I will end it. When I find a serious relationship in which I feel, whether a delusion or not, that it wouldn't end in divorce, I might consider marriage... but more likely, I may prefer simply a perpetual common-law relationship, unless marriage really holds a huge symbolic importance to them. All I know is that I'm at the point at which I won't settle for anything but the best (the best, to me, being someone who will exhaust all avenues before even considering ending it, as well as a few other essential features regarding general compatibility and whatnot), and I realize now that all of my past girlfriends were nowhere near the best. Nowhere near. But then again, who really is at this age? I seem to be the only one I know that takes the 'exhaust all avenues before you end it' philosophy seriously.
Maybe I'll put that philosophy on-hold until I'm 25, unless I find the absolute girl of my dreams.
Behind every 'player,' wannabe-player, boy who is now reluctant to seek out love and instead wishes to indulge in friends-with-benefits, or man who has put-up emotional defenses and taught himself to look no further than sex or sexual encounters, there is a woman who broke his heart.
This doesn't apply to me so much as it does to some people I know, and looking back, I realize there really was a woman (or, at this age, a 'girl' might seem like a more appropriate title) that broke their heart.
I know that after my most recent thing with a girl, I am not looking to love anyone for awhile, and am very much content in being single for the time being. Although, if a shot at a relationship does appear, I think I'll make an attempt at friends-with-benefits. If it goes further then that with the individual, well then... we'll see. Unlike the mentality presented by 'ladies men,' or wannabe ladies men, I have not lost my faith in a love that will one day come and will not end in a broken heart (save for maybe natural causes resulting from the human condition on this planet earth; in other words, death).
I also do not plan on getting divorced. If I go into a serious relationship where my gut tells me it will only end in divorce, I will refuse to marry them, and I will end it. When I find a serious relationship in which I feel, whether a delusion or not, that it wouldn't end in divorce, I might consider marriage... but more likely, I may prefer simply a perpetual common-law relationship, unless marriage really holds a huge symbolic importance to them. All I know is that I'm at the point at which I won't settle for anything but the best (the best, to me, being someone who will exhaust all avenues before even considering ending it, as well as a few other essential features regarding general compatibility and whatnot), and I realize now that all of my past girlfriends were nowhere near the best. Nowhere near. But then again, who really is at this age? I seem to be the only one I know that takes the 'exhaust all avenues before you end it' philosophy seriously.
Maybe I'll put that philosophy on-hold until I'm 25, unless I find the absolute girl of my dreams.
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