I woke up with much on my mind today. It's been a wild week..
I worked really hard that week. Monday through Friday, I busted my back for the company, for the stockroom, and for my peers. Wednesday was the hardest day, but the most remarkable one. The team was working together the way a team should. All of us, spritely young men, tall and short, thin and fat, young and old, straight and gay. We came together to tackle the impossible offsite - a large gray room made of concrete, a quite place in the mall, filled to the brim with boxes. We would have to walk on boxes in order to get to other boxes and they would be buried beneath other boxes. We worked hard that day. The offsite was not the enemy, but the friend in need of care. We would provide the provisions necessary to get him back up to speed. We worked hard that day and even the magical organizing wizard, Andrew, could not complete the task. He was dumbfounded and, I think, a bit hurt. His prize, his power, of organizing had failed him! "At last!" I thought. "He knows what it feels like to be... us!!" It was a relief to see him struggle. I knew then that he was human and not machine. The rest of the week was easy. My legs were sore, my back was weak, but I felt strong. Everything washed away from me on Friday. I was done... too tired to continue. I did the best I could and went home. I knew that the weekend would bring me back up to speed. Matt, Brendan, Caryn, and I were to go to Muir Woods and take in the green -  a much needed escape from the gray and mundane. And it was so. Saturday we came together and started out to the woods. Drove for about two hours and fought for parking. We ate sandwiches and chips before setting out on our hike. The redwoods were proud and reached higher than the arms of any man. We marveled at them for a while. Many people of different cultures marveled along with us. We must have hiked for three hours.. It was much later when I got the message. "..Chris said you took his shift today and we're just wondering where you are.." "What?" I thought. "I didn't take a shift today.." As the wheels spun faster I dove deeper into my recollection. I did take the shift. I was supposed to be there. I was being cocky. I have been forgetful. Sunday rolled by and Monday came second. At work all seemed normal. I apologized for my absence and carried on with my days work. It wasn't until the end of the day, fifteen minutes until my sift ended, did they call me into the office to discuss my punishment - suspension until further notice. In other, more blatant words, "you're ass is grass, kid." Chills started in me, but I fought them off. Without a word I went for my locker, packed my belongings, said a few goodbyes, and took my leave. I needed change for the bus.. I went to buy a cookie and upon receiving my change, left the mall without my baked treat. My mind was elsewhere... "You fucked up, kid..."
Tuesday I did yoga and met up with the step brothers. We ate food, drank beer, and mingled with Japanese girls. Wednesday Crystal came over and we recorded some music, later on the step brothers and the Japanese girls came over for more beer and good times. Yinka and the Japanese girls stayed the night. The next morning we made breakfast and watched Avatar. I don't even remember the rest of Thursday.. On Friday, Yinka was still at my place and Matt came over later. We hung around my place for a while before going to Matts apartment in Walnut Creek. There, we met up with Marisa, had many beers, and retired at Matts for the night. The next day we went for sandwiches at Maruchi's, played Halo and basketball, ate some funny chocolate, and Yinka and I decided to leave. Back at my place, the chocolate had taken full effect over Yinka and he became many words and colors, spewing out anything and everything that came to mind. He was a dark typhoon of imagination. Sunday morning, we got up early to go to the Laotian temple where we were fed delicious vegetarian food and invited to basketball games and movies. After temple, Yinka and I went to Yinkas house to trim the grass. The thicket had grown tall and heavy and much work was before us. We worked hard and calm, a furious weed whacker shaped the wild growth. We worked until sundown and retired to chimichangas and the BET gospel ceremony. There Tuan met up with us and we left for Foodmaxx. At Foodmaxx we purchased meat, cheese, chips, and beer then set off to my apartment. My Mother was home and was excited to see us. We ate, drank, and smoked together. Yinka and my Mother began to battle over opinions and a long dormant argument soon came to life. Both of them arguing like children finally fell into an awkward silence. The air was cut by Iron Man 2. The night ended, the boys went home, and I listened to my Mother for a while in the living room. A fell into a deep sleep.. Today I woke up in my bed with a lot on my mind. It's Monday, two weeks since the bad news and I'm swimming in this pool... "What's next?" I ask myself. "Whatever you make it." Is my quick response. It's time. Time to grow up. To be a man. To reconnect with some sense of responsibility. I'll always be a boy, but I have to fashion myself as a man. The air is thick today... 

Debt. In debt to a greater sign. In debt to a greater evil. In debt to my eyes. In debt to my body. In debt to my brother. In debt to my Mother. In debt to all Mothers - we are. It's a shame. It's a damn shame. How can you let this happen? How? This is your life, isn't it? You have control, don't you? It's your phrase, catch it. Play the hand you're delt, kiddo. This is your hand, this is the game. PLAY. Play and you might win. Play and you'll surely lose. Either way - play.


I'm envious of those who can clearly interpret those abstract thoughts that come to one as a butterfly to a spring bloom. Winged, they flutter about in multitudinous array, mocking our legs. Thoughts, as these, gather and become dense. Thoughts as these are clouds becoming storms. They are tornadoes. They are hurricanes. They are a great tsunami. And what am I? What am I to my mind? Am I the prisoner or the liberator of my thoughts? Both. Though, uncertain, I am, certainly, unsure. Never the less and never more, will a great wave of instinct and impulse rush to the shore, freeing death to the heavens, leaving bodies behind and beneath the flood. Or perhaps blow them away. Send them off flying to an aftermath. Where the rattled collect the scrap metal of what was swept away. What was swept away? It was your house. It was your flat screen television. It was some dusty computer that you had since junior high - the one your Mom brought home, but never quite knew how to use. It was your favorite blanket, the one that smelled like some oak-wood crevice in your house. It was a medallion, your great uncles' from the War. All blown away. All dust and morons gather. Picking through the pile up. Tears falling heavy - the storm below our foreheads. We gather here 'round the mass of a broken past. But it was not broken at first. That flat screen was in your home, but it was not in your home first. It was in a box. And before that in a car or truck. And before that a warehouse (you probably saw it on the internet or in the electronic section of Wal-Mart). You payed your stupid money, the stupid clerk behind the blue and gray cash podium accepted your stupid credit, your stupid television was delivered or maybe you drove it home your stupid self. And for some stupid reason you're bent over, arms folded into your stomach, shedding tears, wailing, hollering to God over what is now a pile of broken glass, microchips, plastic, and steel. My son was taken away by robed men in the middle of the night, but no one gave a goddamn hoot about that. Not even me! I was too busy watching the Nicks play the Heat on MY FLAT SCREEN. Oh, but I did see what that storm did to your family. Terrible, just terrible. I'll send my condolences as I flick the ash of my finest into a tray that one could say might have been forged out of diamonds. It's remarkable how expensive my ash tray is. I marvel at it as if it were my own son. My daughter is going out tonight, with some guy named Steve. Or maybe it's Ramon.. Actually, now that I think about it, my daughter is a lesbian. Yea, that's it... She brought her girlfriend her just the other month, week, or day.. I really can't remember. But my daughters girlfriend had long legs, she had blonde and pink hair, a black net hung off her shoulders and bright pink linen stuck to her sticky skin, she had blue jean short shorts, the kind that would make Daisy Duke seem like a real respectable Northern Gal. Oh man what a wallop my daughters girlfriend is. Her name is Stacy, or Gina, or something strange. But, that was weeks ago... I think. So who is she going out with tonight? My damn son, taken from me. Out the window he was dragged in the middle of the night. His pants were barely fasten around his waist. I was saw his face as his eyes rolled back and his mouth twisted. I saw the men, both tall shadowed hounds of the night, white gloves, white shoe laces, white, eyes, white teeth, all else, black. He was Gods son. He wasn't Jesus, but he was special, you know? Like a fresh hot apple pie. That kid was straight out of the oven. What a kid. He went to school, did his homework, ran from the police... or did he run for the police?? I can never remember - this TV is just too big!! I'm a fat fuck and a fat pig. I lay in the yard sometimes wishing somebody would mow me down. I hide in the daisies plucking pedals pondering purposely, perfectly placid, perky and poised. I am the slow gin - I fill the noise. I am the females and the boys - daisies.
Good men, all were we. Fellow men in the army. Righteous foes, we'd cut them down. Meat for our stew, bones for our hounds. Pious men, the flock of we. Battle Ax, our infantry. Tough as nails Max claimed to be. Shot him dead in the first battle of New Guinea. Immortal Al took heed at the front. His head was struck and he was killed from the blunt. Good men, all were me. Fellow men in His army. We'd cut them down...
I remember the first one. But, it alludes me now..

Treasures

It was, as it always is, fuzzy and dark, though, this time, it was under water.

The ha

Well.
I don't really know how to describe it.

A few friends and I were walking down a long hallway, like that of a museum. The walls were steel painted yellow. Our walked stopped and we found ourselves staring at the nose of a sinking ship. A thick pane of glass separated us from the sunken beast. The water was deep blue. A white light frolicked on the surface of the water. I opened the hatch and without haste began to swim. I propelled myself alongside the ship, my gaze fixed upon the silver panels and black windows. It wasn't long before I realized that I was not alone. A woman from my work, Grace, was floating beside the back end of the ship. She seemed to be keeping guard of the drowned vessel. I greeted her as I swam in her direction. A bright smile flashed back at me and through her lips a friendly "Hello!" She wore a tan jacket with a white blouse and white pants, her hair in a bun, black rimmed glasses rested on her face, and a backpack of scuba gear to keep her afloat. "Still out here?" I asked.
"Yep! A few more hours to go!"
I smiled as I replied, "Well, good luck!" and swam away.

RETURN TO A BLANK SPACE

The next night I returned to the ship. It hung in the water. A sharp black mass suspended, its nose pointing at anyone who dares to look through the thick glass. The object seemed to stare at you, like a mean fish. In the dark blue waters floated something else. It had many limbs and red eyes. It floated idly, almost meaningless. I felt no fear. Turning to the hatch, I opened the door and let myself into the tank to join the ship and the many-limbed monster. My arms pushed me passed the beast with ease, it almost wasn't there, and I swam upward towards the back of the ship where, once again, the chinese woman from work floated. This time, she was already smiling, as if she had spotted me first.
"Grace? Have you been out here all night?"
"Yes!" She replied. Her eyes flickered and she continued, "I've been out here since last night."
"What? That's ridiculous! Were you locked in here?"
"Yes!"
"Geez. That's terrible! It's dangerous in here."
"I know! I can't believe it! I wonder what my boyfriend will think? He's probably wondering where I am."
"Yea, probably. Alright, Grace, I will catch you later."
I swam away, catching a few glimpses of the downed tank, the red-eyed mass perched beside it. The water was not cold, it almost didn't exist.

BLANK SPACE

Drifting along on nines...

Well, today is monday. I'm at home reflecting on the earlier events of the day. I got suspended. Blessing in disguise. Well hidden behind a veil of tardies and absences. That part of me hasn't changed. I'm still the same little boy that didn't want to be in class - only this time, I don't want to be at work, but rather in an actual classroom. Come, summer of books.

It was late in the afternoon. I hadn't seen her in sometime... yet here we were sitting next to each other in the car. I couldn't tell if it was her car or mine - I was too nervous and excited to care. Small talk and tiny chatterings would eclipse our lips. Dark brown hair would trace the length of her neck. I could tell she was suspicious of me by the look in her eyes. ...and her body spoke a language of indifference. I tried to act bold in my green polo, as if I was "too cool" to remember. Somewhere between my running mouth she cut me off and said, "Today is my birthday, you know..?" I respond with, "OF COURSE I REMEMBER!" And of course, I didn't remember. I gave her a hug, tried to play it off, but she undressed my cool with her eyes. She was wearing a grey sweatsuit with blue writing. I coerced her to the floor. I lay atop and plant a gentle kiss on her lips. A familiar feeling of fondness swept through me as we connected... It can only be this way in dreams