Sunday, December 04, 2005

Pittsburgh and awkward syntax.

The smokestacks contrast the green and rise like enormous grey fingers stretching into the sky. Into the clouds they point, into the skies of employment. A blue collared horizon welcomes every one of us. Beckons our contributions. Some come for the human wilderness, some come for the opportunity.

I came just for the view.

I came to smell the sweaty skin of America. To shake the grease stained hands that tear and toil and to remember them who built this iron machine. Spinning gears and twisting chains break and bend the backs of labor. Faceless parts to an autonomous machine.. The very stability we so often overlook and demote. We owe our lives to these parts, these instruments. Human oversights.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

mothers talk, talk about anything but thier children.
anything to detract from life. life at home.
a blurry-eyed, empty insistance staring through each conversation, each pained word wishing it was somewhere else.
I wish i was somewhere else too.

Mothers talk about houses, about cars about vacations.
never talking about the husbands or children inside them.
the mother's smile ends as quickly as it came
lips from down to up, from frown to fading.

mothers spend money, the ultimate excuse.
The ultimate conversation piece.
Mothers
empty vessel or just empty.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

With a flicker of indifference and a small spark of genius, I framed the world with my fingers and called it mine. I called it hers, and we began ours. A traveling bunch we became, through stairs and stairs of buildings and buildings. We were looking for a dream which traveled faster than we could. Faster than I wanted to go. Rushing, rolling, pushing, pulling. The formless fingers of consequence pulled the strings of conscience tighter as we went. I wanted this broken reality, I brought us here. Where?
To where we are.

It started making more sense as we moved. The February air misted our faces and our cold stiff hands joined, a basket of white knuckles. A short-term promise of each other’s salvation. Through stores and stories, and endless visual conversation converging and reminding me that she was infinite. Dozens of figures passed on either side, dodging us, hands still holding, hoping and wanting at length to escape the cold.
A comfortable silence.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

to buy or sell

The business of business.
Buy, sell, buy, buy. A leased life paid for in credit, owed to and owned by banks and plastics. People in charge of charging, redundance and repetition.
copies of copies; each less original, each less thier own. Monthly payments due and loans to cover loans. A metaphysical example of one's own choice. A trait virus running through the veins of cultures, an identity of deformity.

It's all ok because we dont know any better.

Monday, September 12, 2005

This

I hate getting so down, I hate writing about it and spiraling into a controlled spin of self-pity. It's like subconsciously i like being in this place. Looking up from below the water.

I can swim, but i wont.

Reflecting on this past year brings to mind the amazing things i've been lucky enough to be apart of.
Seriously.

In the past year, I have been to Europe and have seen places and people and things most people in this world would never dream of. I have seen most of the states, and again met amazing, interesting people I might never forget. I have been apart of a few bands who are destined for amazing levels of success. I have made, kept, and nourished friendships which will redefine my life. I have continued to grow a million dollar business, and remain self employed with amazing amounts of freedom and potential.

These are life shaping experiences, and I am astonished, and overwhelmed at the idea of having so much.
Thank you God.

Thank you so much.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The skin I never asked for.

every part of my life is misplaced.
Ive never felt consequences, so its easy to keep making mistakes. As long as everyone else gets hurt, I dont feel a thing. I haven't been honest with myself or anyone else in longer than i can remember. All i want is to tell someone everything, every problem, every lie, every excuse and have them love me for it or even hate me for it. I guess i just want to let this out. I dont deserve the air in my lungs. I promise you that.

Is this some kind of vauge incoherent catharsis? Is this some kind of death rattle, the sound i make when everything ends. I hope its peace. I hope it's white.

This is not some melodramatic cry for help, this is not a 1 dollar pleabargain. Im not going to kill myself, i swear. At least not physically.

Part of me does need to die.
Evolve.
Revolve.
Re-evolve.
lather, rinse, repeat.

I keep looking for someone to blame for myself. Looking for a reason, any reason, to see why i am the way i am. All of my family, friends everyone believes in my lies.
I think though, i am transparent. An apparition, a deadman looking from beyond death. All i want is to swim, but instead i see the sun from the bottom of the ocean. My breath is failing, and my heart is slowing, but i continue to sink.

An anchor of guilt will eventually drown me.

A final breath of my own water. A final breath of nothing of substance.
i hate this. i hate me.

Sometimes i wish God wasnt real. I wish i didnt know that in the depths of my soul, i am his, and i am a ungrateful son. An angry angel watching me as i squander everything. every opportunity, wasted.

hated.

unloved? Ungrateful, un-everything. I am what you never want to be.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

badguy.

Sometimes i feel like the worst fucking person in the world.

its the truth.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

trivial issues arent any longer.
the words are not leaping from my mouth as rapidly as i had hoped.

why am i so nonconfrontational.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

I continue to burn the rope though it dangles near enough to save me from the rising waters. The waves lapping at my salvations as my lungs fill with liquid.

I've heard you become comfortable in the beginning stages of hypothermia. If this is true I'm nearly asleep. Sleep brings the feeling of warm hate, and the icy pang of jealousy. A paradox only realized through the unreal.

Truth realized in truth.
I've lied mostly to myself, honestly.

The river rises and I think of ways to send my help home. I wish you didn't love me. This would be easier. Truth is, I might one day thank you. One day.

Friday, July 22, 2005

distrust, and the trappings of a modern man.

Euphemize my life, its what I’ve always done. Things aren't so bad.
so bad.

melodrama takes over, and the trappings of youthful disillusionment fade into adult incompetence. bound by English.
bound by grammatical syntax. i am no artist, and even words fall limp in my lap.
grammatical impotence?

enough of the phallic references.

I’ve been thinking.
I’ve been thinking.

Everyone wants so desperately to believe, or have someone believe they are special. we all want someone, almost anyone to recognize the talent we wish we had.
We want someone to see something in us that no one else does.
But, we do. We knew it was there all along, we've all cultivated some facet of our individuality so as to prompt praise and appreciation. we want to be known.

Even the most independent of us wants to be known.
If we could choose what we were to be known for, what would it be?

I think I want to be everything.

what's another word for empty?

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

a sea of discontent. a sea of good intention.

I think i can find something wrong with every situation. Not that i'm obsessed with negativity. Quite the opposite, i'm probably optimistic to the point of irrationality, but rose tinted goggles usually distort. I've lived in a fantasy world of protection for 22 years, and now that the veil is slowly being lifted, i'm confused. I just dont understand.

Sometimes, i just want to burn these sails and stop moving.
Just float for awhile. Somtimes i just want to stop everything.

It's easy to stop when you aren't going anywhere in the first place. It's getting harder to support my own weight anymore. Life is moving around me faster than it ever has, keeping up with the world is getting harder to do. Staying ahead of everyone is becoming impossible.

how can i keep up when i can't keep up with myself?

Monday, July 11, 2005

overdramatics

i hate choices.

i think maybe i would be better in some totalitarian, socialist, told-what-to-do society.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

an underlying current of nothing or swim in this wake.

Validation through disconnection.
Leave me alone she says, leave me alone. This, supposedly is what we all want. Our higher purpose can be summed in these three words.
Leave me alone.

i want to believe more than i do. Take that how you want it. I’m just being honest.
Accidentally honest. An aspiration of the gods. To be honest, to be true to yourself first, is mans plaguing problem. The thorn we were born with.
bandages bleed through, and stitches lose suture.

in the end, we are held together by our own hands, by our own faults, by our own truths.
what is truth? truth will be discussed on a later date friends.
truth is what we want it to be to us.
validation is disconnection.
if we aren’t here, if we do not belong here, we cannot ever be right with this world.

i wish this made a scrap of sense.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Home.

I'm watching Garden State, and i've decided that i would like to marry Natalie Portman, if she'd have me.
Well maybe not Natalie Portman, but her character in this movie. I think though, that her character was created to be extremely loveable. She's just flawed enough to be endearing.
I'm pretty sure Mr. Braff may have designed her this way, so i may not be alone in my marital fantasy.

It's not just because she's cute, theres tons of pretty girls. Its because of the way they relate, the way she looks at him. The way she feels like home. Thats how sarah is, thats how i would want a girl to be.

I want a girl who feels like home. Natalie Portman's character in this movie is characteristically perfect.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

God as a Genie

I'm so sick of thinking of God as a genie. Someone i can just rub the right way, and ask for favors/miracles/happiness/money/death to enemies. I am so sick of taking this for granted. you know? when the going is good i am not thinking or thanking.

Though, when the tides change, God is always my best friend.

It's like a liferaft you only cling to when the waves are scary.

I can't swim.

alive

I'm told that I bite my nails because i'm anxious, but for the life of me i cant find a reason to be anxious. Expecting or Awaiting. Or maybe just waiting.
All the coffee and aspartame I can find won't wash the taste of failure from my mouth.

The metallic taste like boredom stays on the lips like a kiss you don't want.
I'm tired of blaming twenty something confusion. I dont need an excuse anymore. God knows I deserve it, God knows.

Believing IN is not enough. Why can't I believe God? Have I been let down before?
What's another word for hopeless?

First post

This is my first post, i created another one to post pictures of my recent Europe trip, but i changed the name to something more appropriate and kept this one for myself. I almost hope noone reads this. I need an outlet.