Bones

Obstacles of my own design
Tripping over the bones I leave around
No use for closets
People always find what you hide

No noble purpose
Stand out to fit in
But the open book is a cover all it’s own
A facade to deter prying eyes

Inflated ego beyond it’s extent
The damage is done its shredded and torn
The call of nothing is strong
But nothing is never easy

To say the words is wrong
To think it seems unavoidable
The story on the page becomes my own
But the book is not mine

Reel It In

throw it away… it’s gone
time to forget
and move on

but there it is
that tickle
how long has it been
it feels like seconds

it’s almost burning
think about something else
forget about it
it’s supposed to already be forgotten

why can’t it be left alone
why won’t it leave the mind
bring it back
make it intentional

reel it in again

Blessing and Curse of Habit

It owns you
Pulling at everything you do
Moments of freedom interupted by thought
Stabbing into the mundane
And digging it to the surface

Push it down
Bury it again
Run away and hope it doesn’t catch you
But it always catches you

Is acceptance the answer?
Is it even possible?
Is there a balance to this good and evil?
Is there ever?
Good conquers evil
Show me the proof
This world is a show of opposite
Life is pain

Everything you want lives here
Everything you loath
Show the hope to set the hook of disappointment
Pain

Why do you bother fighting anymore
Where is this hope coming from
Beat down over and over again
How do you stand
From the outside it may look like courage
Unquestionable strength
But it’s nothing so noble
Is it?
It’s habbit

Hermit-ville

Perpetuation
Attempted movement
A rouse

Seeking
Without action
Peering around corners
Unwilling to step

Parallel lives
Fighting the same middle
Open to everything
But one

Pretend conscience
Pretend enlightenment
Pretend intentions

Afraid to hurt
But hurting more
Hurt one free another
To what end

Placed where we placed
Wishing, wanting, desiring
More
But not really

Focus on contentment
Not moving on
Growth a facade
To indulgence

Fight or flight
Flight
Run away
Live to disappear

Stepping out shines a light
Back to hermit-ville

1. Room at the Top – Tom Petty
2. Swing the Cellar Door – Hey Rosetta
3. Skinny Love – Bon Iver
4. My Backwards Walk – Frightened Rabbit
5. Waiting for My Real Life to Begin – Colin Hay
6. Lucky You – The National
7. Search Party – Wintersleep
8. About to Walk – Throw Me to the Statue
9. Melody Day – Caribou
10. The Hill – Marketa Irglova
11. Almost Lover – A Fine Frenzy
12. Fade Into You – Mazzy Star
13. Why Does it Always Rain on Me – Travis
14. Hands on Fire – The Stills
15. We Still Need A Song – Hawksley Workman
16. Blood Bank – Bon Iver
17. You Were Loved – Hayden
18. Stolen – The Brian Jonestown Massacre
19. Roll Roll and Flee – Nikola Sarcevic
20. Poke – Frightened Rabbit
21. We Made a Pact – Hey Rosetta

Steps

The step
to move in a direction
choice laden with no thought
others stop
no movement
still

The turn of the head
the close of the eyes
the pause
A step to stop
But moves more than words

The fight
it’s inside and still outside
it shines under that shade
motion fake
eyes stopped and stared.

It’s there
wrong and right
in plain view
no mention
no motion

To step
to move in a direction
choice laden with intent
with thought
with purpose

Quote

“Everything has strings leading to everything else.  We’re all so tied together.  We’re all in a net, the net is waiting, and we’re pushed into it by one single desire.  You want a thing and it’s prcious to you.  Do you know who is standing ready to tear it out of your hands? You can’t know, it may be so involved and so far away, but someone is ready, and you’re afraid of them all.  And you cringe and you crawl and you beg and you accept them – just so they’ll let you keep it.”…………..

………”You know, it’s such a peculiar thing – our idea of mankind in general.  We have a sort of vague, glowing picture when we say that, something solemn, big and important.  But actually all we know of it is the people we meet in our lifetime.  Look at them.  Do you know any you’d feel big and solemn about?  There’s nothing but housewives haggling at pushcarts, drooling brats who write dirty words on sidewalks, and drunken debutantes.  Or their spiritual equivalent.”……….

~Ayn Rand – “The Fountainhead”

The Power of Tears

It’s Fucking amazing!……………………..

Fighting……………………….Anger
Need to leave
Sobbing

Stop……….Pause

Break……………Weak
Give in……………………No backbone
Fucking Trapped!

Acceptance – old

This is old.  I recently read a friends blog, that for some reason, reminded me of this or, at least where my head was at when I wrote it.

Anyway, despite being old I still like it………

There’s grace in acceptance…………..I’ve said it once, or twice………..it’s crap.

The fact is there is no acceptance, always longing.

It’s nature, to never be stagnant, to always be moving, and wanting more, never content with what you have & to just be.

Logic plays no role here, I’ve tried.  It’s little victories get demolished by waves of emotional bullshit.

Reality dictates a futile cause non the less.

That which is, needs to be, and run a course not yet determined.  That which is longed for, can’t be, the course to be run is nonexistent……now.

It is not something to be waited for, it will always be the green grass.

There is no right answer or course of action, there is only hard and hard.

I regret nothing (I never do), I just wish.

Me. Today.

It’s fuckin 0130p and I’m half baked and drunk………..Whatever that was my goal.  I’m working n a new mix with no real goal, just shit I want to hear right now.  & I came across a song that stopped me in my tracks.  For whatever reason this means something to me today………….I don’t know what but I think it sums me up this afternoon.

Whatever……………………………………

It’s not me.
I don’t usually do this.
It’s not me.
I’m not normally like this.
It’s not me.
So where have I been then?
It’s not me.

So where have I gone?
How long ago did I leave?
Where have I gone?
Can anyone still see me?
Where have I gone?
And who the hell should I believe, is me?

I’m sure that by the water somewhere,
among the broken things that gather, there.
I might be found, safe and sound.

So why can’t I feel?
The sadness walks around me.
Why can’t I feel?
All the terrible things that I see.
Why can’t I feel?
How beautiful it’s supposed to be,
to me?

~It’s not me. Hawksley Workman~

Smoke

Burning feet and racing hands, reach for another smoke.                              Change the pace, break apart, start with something new.                                      It’s moments, mere moments, and words take new meanings.                                          Memory connects to time, feeling, emotion.                Seeking connection, looking for more, sometimes bending, forcing.

It’s time, it takes time…………….Have another smoke.

It’s better.  It always gets better.                        But it’s still the same.                         Change and growth avoid stagnation……..                          peices of sameness……. grounding.

I’m stoned………. have another smoke.

Intentionally vague.                       But hiding nothing.                                  Confusion to some.                           But clear to others………………………….So no hiding.                   It’s not commitment                 it’s not attachment                                 it’s not anything…………………… but good company.                     What happens in the head stays in the head.

I’m still stoned………….I could go for a prime rib sandwich

I need another smoke……………..