A Dreamer Dreams, She Never Dies

the clouds looked like a marble counter top. i was lying outside and i couldn't help but notice. i thought it must retain the cold - quite similar to you.

then i remember this dream i had, where we were both out front. you were upset with me all because i was trying to sway your enemy to get an education. and then suddenly you ran to the left gate and by the time i noticed i had no choice but to go through the right gate. my reaction time has always been subpar and the dream solidified that. i just figured we'd meet in the backyard. but my cellphone rang and it woke me up so i'm not exactly sure how the dream would have played out had it run it's course.

now i just think it's such a shame dreams usually only come around once.
and when i go to bed now i adjust my sound setting in my phone to "alarm only".
just in case.

On Hold

when is the moment you realize you have to give up, move on and/or push forward.
before it's too late.

a few years back, as part of growing up i engaged in a crime and was promptly arrested. it was nothing too serious, but i'll never forget waking up after the haze and the feeling i had. i wanted it to all be a bad dream. i felt defeated, and embarrassed. i didn't want to leave my room for shit. i wanted my mom to hold me in hopes that after i cried for hours i might just feel better, like i felt before the wake of this horrible incident. it was honestly like nothing i've ever felt before. that's why today as i was driving home from work i couldn't have mistaken it for the world. i just didn't understand why.

so i've come to realize that i've absolutely moved beyond reason and i spend an abundance of my spare thought time creating scenarios that are crippling. my only feeling is one of feeling like i can't feel anything. thing is, the pain doesn't consume me anymore, but when it comes, it's not just a wave, it's a tsunami and i feel like i want someone to stab me in the heart because it would just release a shit load of pressure that's been ready to explode out of my chest for too long.

i have no idea what i'm talking about. maybe this is the aftermath of the worst thing in the world. maybe it's just life and i have more to learn.

Untitled

regret is the word that fosters my soul
hope beyond a fence made of bones
lost in the angles of your smile
high off the carpentry of your body

once in awhile i believe this trip
was bound to derail at first slip

the liquid mass has turned to stone
never again to possibly return
so show me all the cards you hold
as i deflate as you steadily swell
with the tricks still up your sleeve
and all that's left for comfort
are your pathetic prophecies

On, Comet! On, Cupid!

i wouldn't have been the first to blink
but now i sit here and have to think
of all the moments i must have wasted
all the situations that could've taken place

and wearier things have happened to me
resulting in famish, yet stuffed to the brim
so sanctions are placed, and feelings erased
you're up in your tank and off through space

a disastrous beginning to a sorry end
free from the middle, is this pretend?

Hearsay

i was in dunkin donuts the other day and i don't know why but it felt like the holiday season. just for a instant. maybe it was the crowd, or rather the fact that i've been delirious. taking nearly everything the wrong way so it's morphed into my own right way. just another compartment that requires some cleaning.

all that aside, yesterday my friends mom was telling me about her sister's neighbor's son who used to work on wall st. that is until he developed a frothy gambling problem and lost everything he had worked so hard to attain. she told me that he currently spends the majority of his time sitting on his bed, in the dark, with no sheets. he's given up on showering. and he's constantly telling everyone he crosses path with that he's about to buy a house. that he's going to closing real soon.

after going on a bit longer she stops and stares at me. the story seems incomplete.
but having reached her conclusion she stares at me and states "something inside him just snapped". it was like she was speaking about some incurable unknown disease he had contracted.

holy shit though wait, is that what's happened to me? and wait, what was it that actually snapped? i mean he can still walk and stuff right?
but i think she was referring to something more unidentifiable.
so here i was left thinking to myself holy shit i want my insides to be strong and formidable - certainly nothing snapable. and i began to freak out a little when i realized that i had seen this young man at a family barbecue a couple weeks earlier and he looked perfectly fine, so now i'm all paranoid as i contemplate what people say about me behind my back.

"Who Does That?"

my friend Erin told me i need to get help. not in the joking way, but in the you seriously need clinical professional help from a therapist way. of course i'm excused because i lack insurance, but in the mean time i've considered the fact that i am a little crazy. roughly speaking. not in the i'm dancing around naked talking about Vietnam way either. just in the i have some issues looming overhead that are causing me some serious fucking problems way.

then i remember a few days back Erin looked at me and i don't exactly remember the context of a surely serious conversation but she said "who does that?" - and she was referring to my red hat and how i wear it everyday. all through summer. all through winter. happy. sad. excited. disappointed. drunk. sober. willing. pumped. angry. laughing. joking. serious. bad. good. beginning. end. in the car. at my job. listening to the radio. and i can't remember my exact response, i'm sure it was a defensive "well i love this hat". but running through my head were a series of cartoon characters because they're the only people i could think about that wear the same hat all the time.

but what followed wasn't a feeling of insecurity or shame. i really don't care if people judge me and think i look stupid with the hat, or think it's weird, or ridiculous and all this garbage that people believe because it's the norm. fuck 'em. and i'm sure a therapist would tear my red hat obsession to shreds, and from it harness the symptoms of a thousand diagnosable conditions. but let the truth be told when i say i know i'm nuts. plain and simple. and until my red hat disappears, or gets hatnapped, or even worse...murdered, i will continue to wear it, and not give it even the slightest piece of a second thought.

that's just me.

and it's really quite a riot because before i was even allowed the chance to publish this post i actually had my hat off at my job and this guy i work with mentioned that it might be too hot to wear, but that it also must be my signature because "it's been going on since before winter". and then in a conversation with Erin titled "Things I Put Up With From You" she immediately called out my red hat as a prime example. she's just too good to me.

Out Of The Ruins

it's funny how we live in the past. pictures plastered everywhere. relax.

life always seems to get harder, as i get exponentially softer. i can feel the skin touching my bones, and it's worse than ever before. i'd like to meet the guy who invented change to show him how i perfected melancholy, cause i bet he'd be jealous. and around here catching any kind of break is like marrying a serpent - it's never really legitimate.

but the sidelines are cool because unlike the players you can see the whole picture. so maybe i should have sat out. and i guess it's more like a puppeteer commandeering my every move. but i'm supposed to give love the ax? stepping out like that just doesn't hold any weight for me.

plus i almost took a drink from the ashtray cup, i hope that doesn't say much about me. or the fact that i'm plastered like those pictures. i can count the number of times i could stand on one hand on more hands than you'd think. it's less confusing if you read it a second time. which reminds me of the rules you wrote, and how they're overbearing. had i caught a second wind i'd waste it away in days.

my final thought so happens to be that my stomach hurts because it's empty, sorta like our lives in general.