Tuesday, February 28, 2012


We were getting ready to play a show. I stumbled over the cables on the floor looking for my effects pedals. My long-haired band mate handed me one of my pedals and another cable. I was surprised that he had brought this equipment with him along with some other effects resting in a back pack alongside the bass guitar and guitar stand. We were in a big acoustic building, something like a mall. Our bearded band mate laughed at something. His hair tied back and his outfit black, he wore a blue t-shirt underneath. We prepared ourselves for noise.

The bastard I once called a friend was sitting next to me. Foul air breathed through me as he laughed. I sat in the chair next to him mapping out the cracks in his face. He talked as if we had never stopped talking. "How can you be so naive?" I thought. He talked on and on about himself and the incredible life he's been living. I half-listened through one ear. As my head straightened and my vision narrowed a familiar form entered the room. Long dark hair draped against a yellow tank top and grey sweat pants. A female from my past swayed into my sight. She was careless and seductive. She came to me in this dream as she has in many, but this time her face was different. She spoke, but I heard not words. Transfixed by her beauty I watched her flutter around the living room. The bastard still smiling, his eyes fixed on her, invading my sight just as he had invaded my mind in the past. 

And somehow we were alone, the girl and I. Soft words were exchanged. Nothing was familiar about her face except her cheeks and her smile. "How could this be possible? Why have you changed?" Many questions ran through my mind, but no answers would occur. A mild heat rose between us. We were familiar on the floor. I had fallen to seduction as she crawled on top of me. We reminisced of the love we made many times before. I had her now on her back and I atop of her. She looked at me with that unfamiliar face and that haunting smile. She even turned her head to the left and looked away from with the same sadness to which I had become so keen. I wanted her. I wanted nothing more than to dive into her and to change the dream into the reality of shared nudity, but we remained clothed and flirtatious. She whispered, I challenged, the cards were put into place, but we would not embrace. It was now becoming more familiar to me and pressed against her warm flesh I sank into a deep sadness. The bastard returned and we separated. Guilt and justification hot in my blood. A wave of confusion swept over me and I returned to a blank space. 

Somehow, now in the bright acoustic building where once I might have played a small concert with my band mates I found myself in an arcade with a few friends. We exchanged paper dollars for coins and had at the machines. I shared my ten dollars in quarters with my short haired friend. He played some fighting game whilst the others played games of their own on either side of him. I disappeared to a separate part of the arcade and entered quarters for two players. "...get over here! The game is starting!" I shouted to my short haired friend. "Alright one sec. I'm still playing." was his response. The tiny clock was counting each second that we hesitated. Time ran short and I was hastened to play both defender and offender. My short haired friend too tied up in his own game to play mine. Disappointed, I walked away from my machine. Whether I finished or not, I can't remember. But, I didn't want to play by myself. What did I care anyway? It was only a few quarters. My wallet housed more paper money and I could use that to buy cheeseburgers later on. I watched the others play their games and I disappeared once again into a blank space. 

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Mutant Children

LAST night, we were all mutants on some great migration. All of us young, hungry, high-schoolers, high and on a mission. We were going to diners, buying movie tickets, shooting lasers from our eyes and hands, riding bikes faster than light, tracking our speed on global placement systems. We had ice cream and smiles on our faces. We were young mutants! And everything was as it should be. But, from who were we running from? No one would stop us if they caught us, we are not a force to be reckoned with. We're children! We are your children! We rode motorcycles and drove cars over dirt roads. Our hair long and untamed danced as we danced. It was all too real.

And before that, we were human. We were sitting around a television drinking tequila. "MAN SHOT" I would call out and the short and small, half-ounce shot glass would be replaced with a tall colorful shot-and-a-half glass. "I hate you, step bruh.." muttered from his lips, the birthday girls brother. And she was a lesbian, as was her man-dressed girlfriend. Butch and proud. Short and loud. The drinks were poured. The men and the women-men drank stoutly. "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY I GET HIGH IF I WANT TO!!" she shouts!  Smoke was not present this night, nor mirrors to tell us illusions and stories of vanity. We were of celebration. We were beautiful. The night grew tired and us tired of the night and we, the brothers, took our leave. And we were talking about girls. About girlfriends present and past. About appearances and realities. It became an honest talk, one too honest for my inebriated state and my body decided for me that now is the time to sleep. And I was home, walking up my stairs, keying the door knob, locking the gate, shutting the door, quietly removing all of my clothes, and rested with the tequila warm in me. My little girl cub crawled her furry paws up to the bed and lay with me. And we became mutants. 

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Dreams are dangerous things -things without physicality. So how is we, the soft creatures that we are, can hold onto dreams? Dreams are misleading, that they are truths disguised in a personal abstract atmosphere. What I find weird about dreams is that in a dream I have complete control of everything around me. And what I find weird about my waking life is that I can only control myself.

So how does one control his self?

I've been out of control. I've squandered, stolen, lied, and cheated. And this is me.
When was younger I stole an action figure from a boy younger than me. Stupid.
I lied to keep myself out of trouble, but never to intentionally hurt anybody.
I cheated on a french test - and got a C.

So a young boy that has stolen, lied, and cheated his way through youth shall become a man.
The young man that made a parody of his self will not be taken seriously by his peers.
An underachiever.

True, I haven't started my own business. Nor do I have my own car. True, I still live with my mother, but 23 is an acceptable age to do so. True, I slept around. True, I now sleep alone. True, I work in a stockroom. True, I am the supervisor. True, I'm questioned my sexuality. True, I've never tested it. True, I have fears, doubts, and worries. True, I have courage and strength.

I see myself growing. Not taller, but broader. A sense of purpose is being defined. It's not what I want, it's not what they want, it's what my soul needs. A subtle expansion between the universe and me is shared.  I'm becoming one of - and not one less.

So I tell myself, "If it feels good do it." And of course, if it doesn't I don't. Haha, but I do!! Someone suggested to me, "maybe you like pain.." I have dwelled on this...
As a child, I would pick my scabs. Every cut, gash, and scrap would remain raw and open. Pain was present, but it was not my focus. It was my curiosity taking over. Perhaps picking the scabs created endorphins.  Maybe I've been getting high longer than I've known.

Started smoking a lot of weed. Today, I'm taking a break... last nights puff had my chest bubbling and must discomfort followed. It is these sort of things that worry me. Strange sensations in my body... But, I was in and out of the hospital all of last year.. I'll stay healthy and happy this year, thanks.
I was even in the hospital on your birthday, but you would have never known..

I'm procrastinating. Supposed to be scoring a film, but it (the movie and the music) makes no sense. So, I'm taking a break to read your blog, write mine, and mellow out for a while.
It is a gorgeous day outside.. Sunlight seems so infinite. Seems.

oh.. and remember

Shallow water
Deep water

For Aaron

Aaron. My Dearest Cousin. You have given me much advice. Women. Money. How to treat my Mother. How to be a man. You've been a ghost-like Father to me, inadvertently. We've grown together, you more than me, in years.
Your mustang, blue and ageless across the freeway, would burn trails and ignite dust, a trailblazing howl of exhaust, roaring horses. You were limitless between those wheels. Lord, help me if you weren't the gears that powered the damn thing.

Something Real

Something real.. It feels like that's what I've been in search of for a while. Something real.. I don't even know what that means to me. I'm turning 21 and I'm nothing like I thought I'd be. Nowhere I thought I'd end up. 

"So how do you feel?"

I feel like I'm walking out of a reality check. As if I just climbed this big mountain of truths about myself and once I got to the top it stopped me. It shocked me. Made things a bit clearer for me. And now I'm climbing down this mount but, I haven't reached the bottom. 

"So what's down there?"

I don't know... It all seems like a big mystery. Do I move forward with this new reflection of myself or do I use this information to become the person I want to be and do the things I want to do?

"Tell me more..."

I'm constantly analyzing and over analyzing the world around me. Constantly thinking about what people think of me and/or are thinking of me. I'
I think about trees. Roots. Dirt. Leaves. Stems. Branches. Extending outward. Arms open and welcoming. They say "follow your heart. Run!" I step on their toes and they never complain. I pull off the leaves and they never pull back. I climb up and down. There's only me and my tree.

Rooted in me is hope.
I have faith that, if I put everything I have out there
something good will happen.
I have the power of an idea behind me
the ideas are in me
politely knocking on the walls of my skull
"anybody home?"
There is nothing more powerful than an idea.
When an idea is thought to be true
it becomes a belief.
Ideas are only Ideas.
Our heads make up the rest
little holes in the idea are filled with
There is no limitation to an idea

I built a complex
towering high above my head
four walls were 
I can't rely on anyone to take care of me. No crying or whining or bitching and moaning.
I've got to take care of myself. My life, my love, and my health. All need help. I can help myself.
All this time living in my head.... too long. I'm seeing things differently.

I'm not perfect but at least I tried
I woke up to tell the truth and
in the evening lied.

Changes all around
Changes going up and down
I can't stand the sound of
strage time going

On the Outside

baby it's cold outside
wont you let me in
begging on your window pane
i'm on the outside looking in

aint coming back

Don't say a word
Don't speak
Don't walk away
stay with me
I know I've been wrong
but you've been wrong too
haven't you?
She likes when the bed
isn't made
She loves when the song I wrote
doesn't play
She walks out the door as if
she ain't coming back
Is she coming back?
I don't know

Don't hold my hand
if you don't care
Don't kiss my lips
It isn't fair
If I can't make you happy
Who the hell can?
If I can't take your past and
burn it. I'll paint you a new

The Days Are Good

I knew 2010 was a gonna be a good year. I felt it November. I don't know if you noticed but, the weather was amazing this last November. The skies were especially beautiful and the clouds brighter than ever. The weather had cooled down from the awful heat of last summer. November has always been my favorite month and I think last November has been my favorite thus far. These last few months have been better days and they keep getting better. I'm ready to face the challenges. I'm ready to have fun. I'm making it happened. The way I see it, in 2014 I'll be 25 and considerably successful. This is the uphill. I'm still climbing. It seems like every time I try to walk away from music I end up walking right back into it. It's a good thing.

I got accepted in to the Art Institute. Not to be confused with the Academy of Arts. I got accepted but, it seems like this time the cost outweighs the worth. I'm happy with that. This year is getting better by the minute. I feel good about it, like a rising sun. This is dawn. Time to shine some light and leave the darkness behind.