Fireworks

I felt somewhat inspired today and I wrote a short story. It's quite short, don't worry. Let me know what you think, this is just the first version.

***********************

All I could taste was the metallic flavor of my own blood as it dripped through my teeth onto my tongue. It turns out seeing stars is a real thing, but it’s more like fireworks. The instant before you feel the impact your vision goes black and you’re at a Fourth of July picnic with the explosions of yellow, blue and red lighting up the dark sky of your eyes. Just for an instant. Then the pain registers in your face. There’s a special type of pain involved when someone’s knuckles connect with your face on a frigid winter day in Chicago. It’s like the crack of a wooden baseball bat firing a fastball back to the stands. Everyone can hear it and even more, they can feel it.

I could feel the pebbles on the sidewalk slide under my hands as I tried to keep myself from hitting too hard. Then the inevitable smack of the back of my head on concrete. It made a dull thud but I could hear the echo ringing in my ears. Once my eyes started working again, I turned my head to see feet shuffling away. Just muttering voices and muffled laughter over the scratch of Chuck Taylor’s in the gravel.

I just lay there for a while, staring up at the gray sky. The lower, darker clouds moved faster than the ones above them. It felt almost tranquil. Once I mustered the will to get up, I started to feel the pain again. My head started throbbing and I almost fell back down. I brushed the dirt off my hoodie, summoning an intense stinging to my palms. I held them just inside the sleeves of my sweatshirt as I walked, trying not to move them at all, lest the intense sting of cold on concrete-scraped hands return.

I had a long walk ahead of me, but it felt cathartic in a way. Even though it just happened, I felt that I could reflect on what had happened and why. I knew this moment was coming before I even left school today. I knew and I almost welcomed it.

It all began during second period. I had Advanced English, which was normally reserved for seniors, but they let me in as a sophomore because of my high test scores. I’m something of a geek, in that I read a lot and enjoy doing math problems for fun. I get made fun of sometimes, but I have some friends in this school. I like to think one of them is Amanda Pearlman. She is a senior and sits in front of me in Advanced English.

Amanda came into class looking strange today, so I asked her what was wrong. She began crying almost immediately, telling me that her boyfriend had cheated on her again. It’s true that it happened before but they had since made up and were still together. Being her friend, as well as someone with a huge crush on her, I felt that I should do something. She got sad while I got angry. I could hear her stifled sobs and watched from the seat behind while she wiped her eyes for the rest of class. I had to do something.

The entirety of my Gym and History classes were spent devising a plan. I must have gone through about fifteen while watching a documentary about the Holocaust. I thought he deserved to go to a concentration camp to tell you the truth. Maybe I was being a little melodramatic, but I was really pissed at the guy. I decided burning him alive was neither warranted nor possible on such short notice and I moved on to my next idea.

By the time school got out, I knew what I was going to do. I knew that Josh, Amanda’s boyfriend, hung out by the water fountains talking to his jock buddies until most people had left after school. They would walk down Lombard Street to the deli on their way home. I crossed the street and waited next to a tree where I could see them talking between the line of buses. I knew they’d be coming soon and I would be ready for them.

I watched as my bus drove off without me, followed by the last two buses in the line. After the loud diesel rumbles of the school buses were gone, a familiar quiet fell over the schoolyard. It’s a strange experience to be somewhere that you know should be loud when it’s not. Like standing in the middle of an empty football stadium. Just the waning conversations of a few cheerleaders walking toward the field for practice and the distant, deep voices of the group of jocks that had just begun their walk away from the water fountains. The silence was telling. This was it.

I had my back against the tree, facing away from them, but I could hear them joking and shoving each other as they got closer. I dug my fingernails into the tree and closed my eyes for a moment before I turned and came face to face with them. They looked stunned. After exchanging glances, Josh spoke up. “What the hell do you want, kid?”

I opened my mouth, but all of the words I planned to say were gone. All that came out was, “You!…” And then I trailed off.

“You want me? You faggot, get the hell out of my way.”

I suddenly found some courage, “No, you need to stop treating Amanda like shit!” I surprised myself with that exclamation. “Stop cheating on her,” I finished up. This was not the plan. I was not seeming tough at all. More like a scared orphan asking for more porridge from the headmaster.

Josh just laughed with his friends, “You’re kidding right? That’s cute, someone’s got a crush.” He smiled his biggest smile, pushing me aside and walking past me. I couldn’t let him leave like this. I called upon what little confidence I had.

“You don’t deserve her. You should appreciate what you have! You’re just a piece of shit jock that thinks he’s better than everyone else and you’re not!” I could hardly believe I was saying these things. He gave his friends each a look, then walked slowly over to me. He stopped about a foot away, looking me right in the eyes, smirking slightly. I didn’t blink. He shook his head like he was going to say something, then-- CRACK! Fireworks. And you know the rest.

So here I am, walking the ten miles to my house along Lake Michigan. The cold air feels great. I feel great. I feel like I stood up for someone I really care about, even if she doesn’t care about me the same way. It was like the fireworks weren’t because of head trauma, but in celebration of my victory. It has something to do with the subtleties of unrequited love. Everything seems more intense. Like a punch in the face on a cold day. Or a long walk home with a bloody smile and a clear conscience.

.dm.

Where You Want to Be

I'm starting to get that feeling again that I need to leave.
I've gotta drive away to somewhere I don't know.
Knowledge isn't power when you know it like this.
All I want is warm air.
Windows down.
Music up.
Sing-alongs.
Best friends.
Long nights.
Tall beers.
Skies full of stars.
And minds filled with more.
So let's throw caution to the wind and hope it floats away.
Let's throw the pearls back into the ocean.
The diamonds back into the dirt.
Until it's just us.
Me.
You.
The moon.
Nothing to stop us but us.

.dm.

Alone I can barely light a match...

...but together we can burn this place down. ~fys

How can I learn from my mistakes
When my mistakes are such bad teachers?
Or maybe I’m just a poor student
Passing notes instead of paying attention
What would it be like to live outside this skin?
No easier than I pretend
It comes easy to you, or so you make it seem
That’s how it looks from over here
These words aren’t work
But my days are labor
I can’t be content to live and die
In one single blink of a god’s eye
These clouds pass by the sun
Like moments of motivation in my day
Raining showers of thoughts
Gone before you knew they were here

* * *

Spring weather always makes me nostalgic
I’m just not sure what for
It makes me homesick for a place that never existed
Feeling the cool breeze at 3am is the best
Walking in solitude in the early morning darkness
In shorts and a t-shirt makes me wish I were younger
The warmth at night makes me want the beach
There’s nothing like that atmosphere
Sand covering your feet
Moon hovering over the water
Waves crashing rhythmically
As you walk hand in hand with someone who makes you feel just right
Hoods over your heads and zippers up to your smiles
Bottle caps and best friends
Whiskey breath and dead ends
Hiding in the shadows cast by police lights
Cuz that’s just where we live
Lifeguard chairs are the top of the world
Ice cold ocean feet on the hottest girl
Pre-dawn breezes whisper to our covered ears
They tell us to leave but we’re not going anywhere
Morning gulls, they call and call
Wasting their time, just like us
Sleeping silence from the city
As asphalt feet bring us back to reality
We walk away from that grainy perfection
Knowing we can’t just walk back and have it be the same
We can grin on our pillows tonight, though
Knowing that the songs carried on that wind will stay with us forever.

*dm*

Jersey Drive

I'm lying to my face
but who do I think I'm kidding?
I'm dying in this place
but I deserve all that I'm getting

You're not what I thought you'd be
That's just the way we do
I'd drive across New Jersey and I'd
Cut the state in two

These nights you seem so far from my town
I still feel your lips like they just left my mouth
My mind doesn't wonder 'bout the places they've been
Just searches for your taste all over her skin

I'm lighting up matches
To burn down this mattress
We buried the hatchet
But I'm digging up axes
To cut the ties
And spill the lies
I was hypnotized
Now you can't disguise--

All the things you made me do for you
What I'd bring was nothing new to you
Pull my eyes out to improve the view
And you deserve the things I'll do to you

I'm lying in my face
but I'm the only one I'm kidding
Living life disgraced
but who can keep track of my sinning?

I'm just not who I thought I'd be
That's just the way we do
I'd drive across New Jersey and I'd
Do it just for you

I'd drive across New Jersey and I'd
Say goodbye to blues

I'd drive across New Jersey just to
Cut that state in two again for you.

dm.intherain.

Drifter

My head feels full..
Like I’ve eaten too much information already today
“Stick a pin in it..”
…dreaming nightly of your kiss
walking through days like clenched fists…
Hours alone in strange places
Stacks of books not worth reading
Upside down chairs on desks remind me of childhood
I’m no authority figure
They handed me this position
I need to escape
From this town
From my head
I’ve never felt so trapped
I’ve always been comfortable here
I need to leave so I’ll want to come back
The beaches are calling my name
But when I get there they give me the cold shoulder
Perception is more than how you look at something
It’s how something looks back
So amazed how something inanimate--time--can make me sad
I’ll be gone sooner than you think.

.heart.dm.

This isn't who I am

I wonder where you are as I watch the moon rise,
Sitting beneath its glow and the yellow stars it cries,
This time last year, as I waited for replies,
I felt the lunar pull from your dark, night eyes.

I've traveled neither distance nor mind,
Telling myself I'd been waiting for a sign,
But the paths diverged and I'm still left behind,
Forever searching but not knowing what I hope to find.

I stand, hands in pockets, waiting for my ride,
But the train is long gone and no more will arrive,
I don't walk, run, hitch or even try,
I simply wait, saying "It will be here. In time."

Moving on is a virtue for me that never came,
Letting go of something that meant so much seemed insane,
With time came knowledge, and with knowledge, pain,
The moon rises without you and nothing can ever stay the same.

* * *

I haven't been around in a while. I've been in a coma as far as blogs were concerned. I've been reading a lot in place of writing. So, to the few people that may look at this, I hope to be making a return in full force. But you know how plans go. It's okay to comment on this and earlier writings. I'd like to hear what people think because I'm a harsh critic of myself. These aren't always what I'd consider finished, polished works. They are, more often than not, words that come off the top of my head. So, tell me what you like and what you don't. Or just say 'hey, you never post in here anymore' so I know someone's still reading.

dm

...of mistakes we made.

Sharp, sharp dreams
cutting into the morning
Like Black Kites
Against the mid-day sky,
Tied to our fingers
As a daily dark reminder
that we're stuck..

Stuck staring at silhouette cities
Leaning on landscape ledges
Sunset skyscrapers stand tall
Impeding our well-planned path
Open doors demand more, more!
We sit in stagnant stupors
Drying like circular coffee stains
Whose primary purpose
And solitary service
Is to forewarn
forlorn future friends.....

...of mistakes we made.

Sunken

You're writing pages of a story to me,
but it's nothing that I'd wanna read,
I'm keeping holes in my heart so you can slip it in your notebook,
I'm leaving messages on phones just hoping that you'll look,
Airing out my sins
But this isn't making sense
There's just not enough of you to go around.
I'm talking words that don't make sense to you,
still there's nothing that you'd try to do,
My house is held up by empty pedestals you stood on,
All the candles burnt out on the mantle since you've gone,
Hanging on this anchor's chain
I'm drowning while I try to change
This ship has sailed and sunk, tide's come in, goodbye.

....dm....

It's true, writer's block is a slow painful way to die live.

Tiny Incisions

"He falls back onto clean new sheets of a freshly made bed, surrendering to the infinite choices life has provided for him. The hardness of the mattress has never felt so real. Mouth agape, he stares at the wall, the door, the pile of clothes on the floor. Some new realization is taking over but it isn't taking hold. The feelings coarse through his body but the ideas can't be articulated. Always one to reject reality, he ignores this and hopes it will pass. But it doesn't. It doesn't and it never will. His struggles will do no good against this adversary. Acceptance is the only weapon that can lull this beast into a slumber. Good night."

"Fear not the future and things you can't know,"
That's what she said to me,
"You're the only one I can be myself around, you make me feel so..."
As if it were an acceptable apology,
Why did we spend all that time?
Why did we waste each other's minds?
And never walked the pond twice,
You knew you'd go back, despite all advice,
Was it worth the words spoken and songs sung?
Nights with stars in our hearts and the sunrise on the tips of our tongues,
Pockets full of memories collecting like lint,
Fading like the light we made when I was a spark to your flint,
"I'm just not ready now, give me some time,"
I complied foolishly,
"I thought you'd forgotten me, it's been quite a while..."
Goodbye and good luck to you and to me.

.dm.

A Road Traveled

I feel like I'm at a fork in the road once again. It's the same one as the last time. And the time before that. I don't simply choose a path and follow it, for better or worse. No, I start walking and decide that this isn't the kind of trail I'd like to travel on. The view is nice, but the ground is muddy, making it hard to walk and, well, I don't want to get these shoes dirty. So I trudge back to the divergence and select a more suitable road for my purposes. It's a clean, dry walk this time.. but there's simply no scenery. On top of that, I can't remember the last person to pass by who seemed worthy of conversing with. No, this won't do either, but have I come too far to return to where this road splits in all directions? Shoud I risk trekking down another thoroughfare of unknown conditions? There's no telling what types of terrain or ne'er-do-wells I could encounter the next time around. So, here you find me, strolling slowly at the edge of my most recent route, throwing thoughtful glances from whence I came, waiting for my feet to join my mind that's already turned back.

-dm-

The Dangers of Conformity

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I have not lived.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

To be read at the start of all Dead Poet's Society meetings.

I love movies that give me such a good feeling. Granted, it does end on somewhat of a down note, but the spirit of the film outweighs that greatly. In an environment built firmly on the conformity of each and every student, one teacher goes against the grain and treats his students like free-thinking individuals with ideas and personalities. Wouldn't that be great? I'm not saying all of my teachers have been stuffy old men that treat us like children, but I can't say I've ever been inspired enough to stand on my desk and recite poetry. I would love to be though.

John Keating: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"

The passion behind this one monologue just makes me want to go out and live life to the fullest. Wouldn't it be great to learn in a new way and enjoy yourself at the same time? To have meetings late at night, crowded in a cave reciting old poetry and creating your own and living life. Let's start a new chapter, who's with me?

Back to reality, I spent my afternoon in a remarkably less stimulating classroom environment drawing a still life. With art supplies, gas, food and textbooks, not to mention my current status as unemployed, it's getting harder daily to keep my kleptomaniacal urges under control.

I did vote today, but that brings to mind far too many topics, who have been ganging up and snickering at my confused little brain lately, for me to coherently link together right now. Suffice to say: I've never understood racism.

.dm.

I found this while reading some Whitman poems and it seemed appropriate.

I Sit and Look Out
Walt Whitman

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world,
and upon all oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves,
remorseful after deeds done.

Riding Free

“A car is useless in New York, essential everywhere else. The same with good manners.” ~ Mignon McLaughlin

The first half of this quote is common knowledge, the other half was ingrained in our minds today during our trip to the Big Apple. Free train transit (provided graciously by NJ Transit for college students in an attempt to show us how useful it is so we'll keep using it after the freebie week is over and the prices return to their ungodly rate) led me to plan a trip to the city for no reason in particular. It was raining when we left, but I decided I'd rather be wet in New York than dry in New Jersey most of the time anyway.

The trip was good, while serving no purpose but to kill time that could have (Read: Should have) been spent on portfolios, homework, projects, etc. I'm a big fan of procrastination, so this was just fine with me. We strolled through Central Park, rode the subways from uptown to downtown and back again, paid way too much for sandwiches at a deli, saved the life of an injured pigeon (tried to anyway..) and were harrassed by not one, but TWO NJ Transit officials about our free student passes. Ah, New York, you never let me down.

Oh, and where do the ducks go in the winter?

It seems they just move to another pond that's not frozen. I guess if the winter had been this mild when Holden Caulfield was heading back home, that fond musing may never have been thought of. Glad the (fictional) winter was much colder then, because I wonder the same thing...

Trains always inspire me. I don't know what it is about them, but the clanking wheels, screeching brakes, chug of the engine and teetering passenger cars just make me giddy and full of things to say.

I remember riding the train next to you, casually tuned into the sound of your headphones. Sidestepping onto the landing and up the stairs to the grandeur that is New York City's streets. Never once glancing to your side, at me, nor removing an earbud for just a second to listen to any words that were dropping from my mouth, hopelessly into the gutters and through the city sewers for purification. Maybe one day you'll turn on your faucet and pour out some of my recycled sentences, drinking them unknowingly and thinking of me. Just maybe.

Why do people linger with us like the phantom limbs of a wounded soldier? We've fought the fights we expected to win, and the ones we never intended to fight at all, losing more than we knew we could live without. But still after the war is long over, we think we can stand on legs that we've left behind and try swinging fists attached to arms that just aren't there. When can we become whole again without these severed appendages?

.dm.

Flow

I drove this morning with the lonely day moon.
It hung sad without any stars to keep it company.
It reminded me of your eyes.
You throw them like beautiful bricks through the windows to my soul.
Your devil may care facade smiles like an aging actress.
It could use a facelift.
I yearn for an audience to hear my shouts.
But once I had one I don't think I'd know what to say.
It's good to have an optimist around.
I'm just so pessimistic about optimists, though.
I'm skeptical (jealous?)
It's hard to believe they're being genuine sometimes.
That's just my perspective taking over.
I guess attitude is a big part of how things turn out and being upbeat can probably only help.
This stream of consciousness has flowed through so many forests of fakes and dumped into too many lakes of lies to think of treading back against the current.
I'll remain content in a placid pond of lost thoughts.

Glow

Sleep deprived.
Not yet, but it won't be long.
What does someone like me have to offer?
Each keystroke is a moment I could have spent doing something productive.
Still waiting to be inspired.
Current waiting time is still indefinite.
My scars stare up at me like friends recounting old memories.
Telling it like it is, holding nothing back.
Real friends don't have "end" in their title because they're brothers and comrades.
You were always the one there to hold their hair back after we let them drink too much.
Your door is closed most of the time, but you should know I'll be on the other side when you want to open up.
To the friendships that met their ends: thanks for the memories.
Some jokes just aren't funny without you around for them.
Excuse Don, but everyone else just thinks I'm being stupid.
Some too proud or pious, just leave it be.
I'm getting by just fine with what I've got, despite the words I cry on here.
You'd probably be happy to know my finger still flicks my blinker on every time I pass your street.
I'll lay here awake under covers, happy in the glow of my screen until the alarm sounds and I haven't slept at all.
Welcome back, insomnia.

I know what you think..

We live alone right next to one another.
Dwelling in the shadows but blinded by each others' words.
Speaking with sarcastic seriousness only we understand.
Stuttering silence as we scribble standard prose.
Seeking, desperately searching underneath our clothes.
Hiding behind hair and holding pale blue hands.
Hemorrhaging heartbeats beneath glass chests.

This is what we convince ourselves we need.
All you've been dreaming of, it surely must be love.
Twisted like cables behind red eyes.
A stare like a plane crash that took off with no intention to land.
My big city eyes can't stick to the suburbs for long.
I'm next to you in body, but my mind is far gone.
Just cross all your fingers and hope that I'll change into someone else.
But there's no way that heart's as fucked up as mine.

Losing my voice like keys.
Playing hearts like a game.
This night is no different and only the weather has changed.
Lie awake under rising suns, wondering if this is where we belong.
Each well-crafted word means a little less than the last.
You can't pull off dialogue like this without a supporting cast.
Embrace another winter morning that keeps you in bed a little longer.
Passing by opportunities like train stops, racing back to our dreams.

.dm.

..you don't have to say it.

Time is medicine

Stocking feet on hardwood floors,
Fireplaces and melting s'mores,
Folded into the comfort
Of new sheets and old friends,
Electric signs and pickup lines,
Underage and out of mind,
Perfumes idle by
To haunt our dreams tonight.

Schematics, drawings, master plans,
Have left the safety of my hands,
The ink is dried and can't be used,
The playwright works without his muse.

Fingernail marks and lipstick stains,
Find their place and mark the page,
As we walk through nights to get away
Through puddles of thoughts in peaceful rains,
Kisses unfinished and chances not taken,
Rise to the surface like cream as we're aging,
Showing smiles that we force to our faces
While our true feelings hide like the sketch beneath paintings.

Dreams, desires, whims and wishes,
Sabotaged and surreptitious,
Youth betrayed by matter and mind,
The sun sets on golden days, leaving us in the dark and blind.

~dm~

It was rainy today, which always seems to inspire me to write. It's January and I think it needs to start snowing again soon. I'm not a fan of cleaning snow off of cars, but I really like watching it fall and the way it looks when it's on the ground. Today was really unexpected and things turned out in a way I didn't think they would, perhaps for the best. I think it will all turn out okay... ok, not really. I don't know why I typed that because I actually don't think that. All I think about is how I don't think anything will go right and I'll never move on from this part of life. I can't make a decision and stick to it, I get into one thing but then I get concerned about it and think I should change everything, which just slows down any process I begin. Knowing this should be a good start to changing it, but I've known this for some time and still I'm the same person. Who knows. Good day.

Live again, live again....

The road is narrow, the horizon wide
And they say what's waiting on the other side
Is so rewarding and the ultimate prize
But what good is something if you can't have it until you die?

Desperate, tenacious, clinging like a grain of sand
Watching its foundation wash away (wash away)
Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend
Confident that they might live again.

Live again, live again!
Would you give it all up to live again?
Live again, live again!
Would you give it all up to live again?

Temptation, revalation, you decide
Torture shows its colors often in disguise
Progress and purpose help us realize
We pass along a brighter faith even though it must be blind.

Desperate, tenacious, clinging like a grain of sand
Watching its foundation wash away (wash away)
Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend
Confident that they might live again.

(badreligion)

Pull Up, Pull Up

This is what I feel like today. Like Zach Braff in Garden State. He's waiting tables with a bunch of people all around him but he's completely zoned out. It's not just because I was waiting tables, I've just felt this way all day. I guess I've got a lot on my mind and things aren't working out exactly like I hoped they would. I'm usually pretty good at hiding my emotion, but I guess I wasn't today. It's like I'm doing all this work but what am I working towards? And am I going to be happy when I get there? Should I take the safe path or the interesting one on the chance I'll be able to make something of it? I really don't know, but I don't have time to waste on wondering. I need to make a decision.

"Los Angeles Tower, this is Transworld 22 Heavy, we are going down! Mayday Mayday!"

"I can't afford to make another mistake...

like you." tsl

Choices, choices
And you know it's just not me
Hearing voices
Hard to think that's who you'd be

It's always harder choosing sides
I've never been good at picking fights
I keep my head up, but I'm losing sight
And you know I can never take my time

I'm looking for inspiration
It's not that hard to find
You're sitting on the rock
That it's hiding behind

I'm tripping over virtue
and falling into self-respect
This light went on so long ago
But this fall shattered my shadow

You've used up all your flames
And I've been trying to stay warm next to the ashes
As your solid courage
Melts into liquid lies

I walk along the desert roads
Dried up tributaries to our river
Crossing the time-scarred plains
Flowing to my heart like veins

I never noticed this
You'd never know this
I pretend I'm ok
With the pretense

The seconds tick away in your stare
I've got no more to share
Because you know time is money
and this is worth more than mine is honey.

..dm..hbtm..

Seeing Your Breath

Long winded blowing
Excuses keep flowing
From my tongue like rain from the gutter
I'll tell you that there is no other
Just like you
And that is true
I can't say that I love you
But I want a few things from you
You don't seem like you're with me here
But your lust is in just one more beer
I feel your lips crash into mine
But another face is on my mind
Give me passage and I'll go the distance
I tread the path of least resistance
I return ashamed from unscaled walls
On selfless hearts my pain befalls
You're not the one but I'm the fool
I'll settle like a rock at the bottom of a pool
I spend my days alone and wonder
If it's her thumb or mine I can't get out from under
Words and time display what I'm all about
I'm scared to settle in but more to go without.

Storm to Weather

You look like you're distressed, my dear
A nervous smile from ear to ear
Falling to your knees under the weight of this halo
Just take it off because it really never fit you
Boil it down and find out what's meant to be
There was no gold and surely nothing holy
Give back these fingers - this hand wasn't meant for you
You're just the needle scratching the record we dance to
A flickering light from a second floor window
That signals my loss, might as well be a widow
I follow these curves 'til I crash near your lips
Where I once brushed death with my fingertips
These pictures aren't highways and memories not cars
It could be the reason I never get very far
The floodgates have opened and the townsfolk will flee
I'd rather sink than swim just to hope you'd rescue me.

/dm/

Wax Museum

I've lost your gaze
The one that saw me go so many times
Your twilight stare
That watched me turn my back and leave you behind
I've chosen my stance
Where I remain unchanged and lonely
My unwavering postion
Hands reaching out for the one and only

Staring at the night sky that blankets this unholy abyss
Stars twinkling with a rhythmic pulse like I used to hear with my head on your chest
Cold winds draw my outstretched arms to either side
As the darkness meets the morning like a new groom to his bride

I've lost all faith now
The little I ever had to begin with
My trainwrecked hope
That never reached my station like I'd wished
You've gotten so far
Don't let me bring you back from a good place
Kept me just out of sight
But out of mind is a reality I can't ever face

Walking the fruitless deserts of my familiar neighborhood
Ghosts come out of houses and headlights, but they don't know they do me no good
The frigid morning sunrise acts as no deterrent
Holding an unlit candle just for you, but all of my matches are already burnt

(dm)

It burned out the whole spectrum

Holding steady at the edge, but a strong wind could shake my grip loose
Missing you like the last puzzle piece that's not in the box
Without you nothing is complete and this picture lacks meaning
I feel you in the dark but know I'm by my lonesome
Your eyes are flashing bulbs capturing the moment
Between the sheets of lies and empty promises we write pages of future regrets
This night's lust will be eclipsed by the rationale brought by the morning sun
I've got keys to locks that don't exist
I try them in your door like internal organs that just don't fit

..dm..moretocome..

Nobody knows me

I'm feeling extra empty today, not for lack of trying to fill myself with food and family.
Holidays are vaccuums that can suck the life out of you.
It's like i'm incapable of genuine emotion.
It hasn't even been that long since I felt, or thought I did.
But you've lost your appeal like a bad lawyer.
I guess you can trust in the fact that everyone can let you down.
And you can hold on to that if you're a heartbroken, insensitive narcissist.
Like me.
I just want to let go and hope I'll float off, weightless.
The chords and drums from my speakers echo the invisible tears I cry.
This is a rant and nothing better.
When I'm feeling alone I need to make friends out of new words.
Maybe it's because when I stand still for a moment, I can easily see all that's passing me by.
I need to get moving or I won't recognize anything anymore.
Keep lowering the bar.. cuz I'm falling down and I want another drink.

~dm~dm~dm~dm~dm~

Dreaming Dearly Departed

I'm opening up to the undertow of us pulling away
I'm fishing for a fresh feeling and you're the catch of the day
I'm standing on a stepping stone in your poison pond
And drowning from your fragrance of which I was fond
We're driving with the windows down in winter
Watching cars collide calmly with concrete and splinter
Distant descriptions of decomposition
And corpses come crawling with hopes of contrition
Waking up to the sickening sound of a pipe organ
And the scent of sex on a sunday morning
The procession proceeds past polite passers-by
Earning momentary respect from each earnest eye
Alkaline kisses can't come between kindred lips
Lessons learned over time leave lesser men betwixt
Resignation rarely rears its head in recognition
But buried beneath bluegrass beats a heart we're missing.

~dm

Magnetic North

She wraps herself in her favorite songs like a blanket on a cold morning
but she still can't warm her feet
Her fingers clench a pen tap, tap, tapping on blank notebook pages
but she just can't find the words
She opens a window to breathe fresh air she can't find in her room
but the oxygen never seems to reach her lungs
Her thoughts circle the track like a holiday toy train
but the bridge is out ahead

This is the evolution of a girl whose legs just couldn't carry her
To all the places she saw in dreams and knew she'd go
As life would pass her fast and faster still her dreams depart
She sat awake and still like a river trying to change its flow

She stirs her fears in with her bread and bakes for days
but when it rises she's only more afraid
Her crimson lips met golden skin in gorgeous valleys on her face
but she hid herself in mountains far away
She holds her shoulders back and stands up straight with pride
but her bones slouch sadly inside
Her words drain slowly cold from the faucet at her mouth
but there is no heater to warm them

This is the destruction of a girl whose arms couldn't reach out far enough
To catch all the things she knew she could get
As time passed her slowly and stranger still her life moved past
She sat staring at her ocean like a captain with no idea which direction was home

What have you sewn?

I step out from the shade and feel the sun
It does little to warm this body
Just illuminates the pain inside
And presents it with a smile on my face
I know I'll never get the things I want
Still I walk along with this swagger
Finding hope in every passing moment
But remaining a hopelessly desperate child
I want you all to myself
But I'll do just what I want
You know I'd come if your voice called me
I'll be there for you, just not alone
I stand here humbled by the world
It passes by while I sit still
Curtains pulled to stay in darkness
Hiding the face you don't want to see
I have my standards and you have yours
If you're not like me, what are you still here for?
Riding vanity like a cold wave to the shore
I'll be sticking around but you can't take anymore
Ducking down low where you've set the bar
It's not uncommon to play these things
If you can't be happy with what you've got
Put on a haze with your scarf and take a shot
Unfinished words dig below you like shovels
The ground is moist and ready to hold you
Bury your sins with your words and never visit
They'll come back as soon as you wish they wouldn't

~dm~

Are you dying to believe

..I can't go on without you?

I can't see so well.
I'm limited to what's right in front of me.
The cold from the window.
The tap of the rain on the glass.
The smell of this sweatshirt.
The rug beneath my feet.
This familiar happy feeling.
The one that never lasts.
Clever words woven together in shapes I've made before.
This water isn't changing into wine.
I need something stronger.
What's the point of "used to be's" and "i remember's"?
Sad reminders that you had it better once.
What's to come, could it be as good?

"And I wonder, when I sing along with you, if anything could ever feel this real forever, if anything could ever be this good again." ~FF

Home from home

I'm sitting staring at the darkness that surrounds the square light of my laptop.
It's just black, but a familiar black.
If the only light went out, I could find the door or the pen lying next to my bookshelf.
It's the same darkness I've stared at for so many years.
Sitting on the same bed in the same room.
Walking down the same hallways and stairs.
Pacing up and down the same driveway on the phone at night.
Looking through the same branches from the same tree to see the same stars.
Driving the same roads to the same places time and again.
I'm always running away, but I'm never getting anywhere.
Always somewhere new, but I never stay.
New roads, new skylines, new people and new bridges.
All fleeting and left behind to return to familiarity.
I want to drive away and watch the scenery behind me fall apart.
Watch it deconstructed like a movie set.
The places I once knew reduced to open space with no trace of home.
I want to cross over that bridge once more and see it fall into the river.
Could I stay away?
Would I drive on and make a new life in a new place?
Or would I rebuild the bridge and put back up the town just how I knew it?
What is home?
Can it be reduced to a single dwelling or a collection of streets and well-known sights?
Could it be just a feeling, with no permanent locale?
Perhaps it's different for everyone, but I'm ready to find out how far I can take this home.

Dark Day

I'm lying flat, waiting
Ready for surgeons to purge this feeling from my brain
I've been in this bed forever
I'm not sure that I could walk upright even if I tried
Legs like numb concrete
It hurts to even consider walking away from this
I try to speak, to no avail
Every word cuts my throat like pieces of glass
My words are stuck inside
Escaping only as raspy grunts and coughs
Pounding inside my skull
Wanting to traverse these neurons to find freedom
Knocking at my temples
Refusing to stay locked up without at least attempting jailbreak
Hands freezing and blue
Like I've been holding these frigid metal bars for days
Turning my head from the sun
My only sanctuary lies in dreams and disillusionment.

..dm..

About rain

Is it raining where you are?
It hasn’t stopped for a while here
I wonder if it’s real anymore
Or if I’m seeing clouds where its clear
The last puddle I had to jump over
Soaked the back of my legs
And the umbrella that kept me dry
Is gone like the last words you said
The door is unlocked to come in
But the heater’s still broken
Colder inside than out
Like stories heard but not spoken
Stairways well-lit by lamps
Dusted off like shelves in an attic
Streaks unite the sky with ground
And the change in temperature is dramatic

I want to know your plans

Welcome to apathy. Or is it numbness. I wonder how I can be so affected by everything, yet so oblivious to it at the same time. I need something to keep me believing that the world's not gone dead. The news I got recently is hard to deliver, because I'm so unaffected by it for some reason. It's something that should be hitting me pretty hard, but I feel like the only way I can properly express it is through typing, so I can use the correct punctuation to convey the feelings I should be feeling.

How long can I drive towards a brick wall before I turn the wheel and get back on a road that's going somewhere? I don't have a map, but I've got a pretty good sense of direction. It's much easier without a backseat driver and I left my conscious tied up to the train tracks with black ribbon. I can't follow the plans I don't have since I never thought I'd get this far anyway. Maybe confidence isn't one of my better qualities but in these neighborhoods, showing off something like that could get you killed.

Open wounds, out of tune,
Carried away on the wind,
Singing them back to me,
Keep their melody in my head,
Finger paint, on your face,
Another artist's work displayed,
Showing it off to me,
Reminder of what I can't be,
Bitter words, weigh down your tongue,
Saving them for quick retorts,
I'll be your mirror,
So just spit them out at me,
Cold winds, bumps on your skin,
Here to warn you of Winter,
My tree's losing leaves and color,
I need some care to last to Spring.

/dm

A little far for me to reach

I can see you hanging,
Feet limp and dangling,
From the thumbtack on my wall,
Hanging, waiting to cut and fall,
The best damn actress,
Flowered and backless,
Dress held up by a spine I can't see,
Keeping your thoughts safe from me,
The fairy tale is endless,
I'll call my next witness,
Lying in bed while you're lying,
In bed, to me.

...dm

Don't say a word

I've been doing nothing today because there's nothing to do.
Listening to music and reading.
I'm about to go out and take some pictures to be productive.
Sure, I've got some homework but that's for later.

I'm ready for Autumn to arrive.
We shouldn't have the air conditioning on in October.

I would have just asked her
But that would be so out of character
I'm feeling off-center
All my letters have been returned to their sender

I can scream because nobody's listening.

These leaves remind me of you...
Beautiful no matter what color they're wearing.

Take me home

It's still wet outside, but I can see things now.
Yesterday provided an awesome storm for me to watch.
The wind blew out the sun like a candle with its breath of black clouds.
The trees staggered in the gales like early morning drunks.
And the rain came down in sheets.
I never really understood that term until yesterday.
I enjoyed myself next to the window, just watching.

It's another early morning for me.
Another day destined to disappoint.
I guess nine days is enough to kill my batteries.
I need a re-charge.
Anyone wanna take a trip with me? Just a quick one.

~
I'll make some really nice plans out of clay
And bake them in the kiln of your mind
So I can take them out and adore them
Just to smash them on the ground outside

I'll hold this idea out in front of you
So you can smell it turning to anticipation
And pull it away as your mouth is watering
So your saliva quickly turns to tears

I'll stop by the store to get another chance
That you can use and lose like the others
I've been saving up for a while now
And I'll just go out and get you another

I'll read page after page of this novel
Hoping to find myself trapped in the words
This bystander needs to take action
Maybe as a villain to become a main character

*dm*

Over and out (the door)

The sun is up, but its dark in my room.
I've got nothing of note to say.
Just staring at the sunlight on my wall filtered through my curtains.
Your words credit me with the downfall of all that is good.
When I only try to do right for you.
I can't be perfect, but I guess I don't try hard enough.
That regulation area in my brain doesn't work very well sometimes.
And sometimes it works all too well, you know.
Holding my thoughts hostage like a dam holding a reservoir.
And when it comes down, hold your breath because you're going to be submerged.
You've seen this, done this.
I almost feel like you know how to swim in my waters.
Almost.

Sometimes I think being able to sketch a picture of these words would be more helpful.
What would I draw where my eyes go?
Crystal balls that can see the future but can't change it..?
And my mouth?
A political bullhorn shouting what you want to hear until the press has packed and left..?
My heart?
A glass.. half-full or half-empty; either way waiting to be topped off or finally drained of the rest..
My mind..
A camera. With unlimited exposures and the ability to adjust the aperture and contrast to make any picture look amazing to me..
And at my feet?
A road less-traveled, forking at another juncture; legs waiting for the glass in my chest or the pictures in my head to urge them forward in one direction.

Of all the fruitless searches,
You can trace the footsteps back to love,
Looking for solace in that vessel,
Finding a home for your insecurities,
Locking them in the bottom of that chest,
The lock secured by state and minister,
The tinder cured by the soul you've chosen,
To keep the rain from wearing it away,
That soul can't keep the seal forever,
You can stop the rain and shine on for them,
Or pour down in torrents,
Releasing the lock that held you together.

...you can only do what you think is right
...losing faith, but thinking you gained insight
...blame yourself or blame your friends
...it's you who suffers in the end
...of turmoil and nights without a prayer
...search on, but no one will be there
...aiming low can't make bad look better
...she can't destroy this if you don't let her.

~shineon~dm~

Just let me

I'm listening to new songs that will soon be old favorites.
I have this familiar feeling of my dreams washing away in heavy rains.
Like I'm making that call and dialing every number just to hang up when it rings once.
I miss smiles that are just for me.
The ones that stretch across my face when you leave me with that feeling.
The ones that show up with my back to you, against a door or my car.
The ones I direct at your back, watching your hair for movement suggesting you'd turn for one last look before I'm gone.
I wish this space between us was only geography.
I'm unplugged electric and I'm ready to be turned on.
I need to feel that touch.
That shock to my system I get touching your exposed wires.
I'm just the scraps that cling to your notebook wire after you rip out a page.
I'm ready to be the pages penned full of poetry you love.
I can fill the space between the covers.

(dm)

"Just let me sing you to sleep.. Rest assured if you start to doze, then I'll tuck you in, plant my lips where your necklaces close." ~ tsc

Drive yourself insane tonight..

..it's not that far away and I just filled up your tank earlier today. ~alk3

I don't write on here enough anymore, I'm usually writing with a pen because my computer screen is occupied by old episodes of House. I'm going to attempt to write more since I always read other blogs and I wanna put something out again too. This may be a hodgepodge of random things I've been writing/thinking for a while now.

The sun rests its head on your windowsill,
It beckons for me to pull back the covers,
I'd rather stay sleeping
beside the only thing that really shines for me,
The clouds hang high,
Resting atop trees; guiding me home,
Following the flow of traffic
but driving against the grain of my carved soul,
These thoughts speed around my mind,
Circling like drivers without a pacecar,
These cars don't stop
there's enough fuel here to keep them racing,
The sun will fall into the landscape,
Assuring me it will rise on us again,
It lights the moon
so I can find my way back anytime I need to.

9/28/07
You've always been my favorite road to drive on,
Autumn nights and summer days,
But the sun is gone and left the cold,
It sent the clouds to drop the rain,
And wash away the friction we shared,
My tires and your asphalt grip,
Quickly letting go of the bond we hold,
Our car is drifting out of control,
You'll be my slippery highway road,
And I'm your burning wreck.

~dm~

I have a lot to look forward to in the next few months. It's gonna be a good autumn, probably my favorite season. However, I can't wait until ski season returns! Keep your head up.

Clouds

Falling asleep
Falling like an anchor from your lips
Holding in place, next to me, the vessel that carries me away
Sailing me off into the sunset of your eyes
Exploring the majestic seas in your mind
With the wind at our backs, we can go anywhere
The open ocean is ours to explore
No harbor too far from our reach
Each kiss filling the sails to carry us away
I stare at the horizon and see a paradise unknown to the world
I fell asleep in heaven
And I woke up on a cloud...

(dm)

Still keeping me awake..

September always starts with a feeling of change
This year is no different, just much more noticeable

It's hard to think I'll be parting with all of you
When I have such trouble parting with your lips
My fingers will be typing to stay in touch
When they'll be longing to touch your face
I'll miss the yawns during goodbyes
The cool pre-dawn drives
Watching the last star fade away
The morning has arrived
I'll miss knowing you're not far
Even if it still wasn't close enough
And lying half-asleep in the glow
That sings our favorite songs to us

Good night/good morning
.dm.

Silencer

The rain falls hard to its target below
Each drop plotting an attack and hitting its mark
Every step on the asphalt soaks into me
And translates itself into a shiver calling for Autumn.
The confessions of a lonely summer night
Heard only by shadows cast on flooded gutters
Every smack of water on the ground acts as my silencer
Masking every shot I take at myself.
The wind arches the trees away from me
Like they're telling me I should turn around and leave
As leaves fall at my feet like dying butterflies
I walk on watching their futile attempt to take flight again.
I can feel the Summer leaving, but it won't get away
Not before I take it by the hand one last time to dance
I'm on the hardwood just waiting for the deejay's cue
And we'll dance the Summer night through September.

We really need to see this through..

I miss blink.. reunion tour, please.

I'm going kayaking now. Maybe it will be relaxing. I'm pretty sure that's not what I want though.

I'm in the mood right now where I just need to listen to music and get out of my own head.
So I'm going to the lake with my Zen (that's my mp3 player for all you iPod folk) and I'm probably going to drop it in the water and have to buy a new one.

..we never wanted to be abused.

.dm.

It's colder than I remember it being in August..

I'm the only one that decided I didn't need a hoodie...

Over the motorway...

From the steps of the art museum...

A symbol of America & a funny look...

Staring contest, you and me, right now...

Yes, we went to Philadelphia. We did the South Street walk and got hot beverages (in August!!) since it was cold out. We had a few beers while waiting around and then headed to the art museum to enjoy the crisp autumn-like air and the view. We encountered deer, naked men displaying themselves proudly, and even bears! Yes, it was quite exciting, as was the time we spent waiting in the car for the pretzel factory to open.. (note to self: it's not open until 1AM on Friday night) But once we had pretzels in hand it was all worth it. A good soundtrack and hands-free pretzels were the ride home. An awesome night and now I'll try to sleep. G'night!

.dm.

I love everything about you that hurts..

I would ask why I kid myself, but I'm not alone in the ruse.
Picturing myself able to be in pictures I see.
That's a room that this hotel won't be renting out soon, I fear.
The last occupant's ghost is still holding onto the key.
No plans for exorcism though.
I'll just have to be content with ghosts of my own.
"Kisses I remember so well.."
Memory, the most over-booked haunted hotel.
Sometimes the silence from a phone is louder than the ring.
Stories half-told tend to make up their own endings.
Pick up a thousand words or so from every picture I see and I've got my novel written, this one doesn't have a happy ending.
It hasn't been published yet, maybe my editor could suggest some revisions to fill in the holes I've hastily covered with the only dirt I had.
Or just use what's left over to bury me alive.

.dm.

Six States Deep

This country is an ocean and I'm fishing from the side of the map.
I've had the same catch on my line for quite some time now.
Who knew this line was so long?
Miles of highway are fathoms to the deep.
States are leagues closer to the sea floor and mysterious creatures.
That seems fitting.
Who knew this pole could bend so much without cracking?
Try as they may, no other fish could shake you from this hook or take you as bait.
Riding my own sinking feeling now to the sand on the ocean floor.
Hoping one more tug on this line will be a good enough reason to let yourself be reeled in.

dm.

Planted

We're only flowers.
Planted in the ground among other flowers.
Growing up and reaching toward the sun.
Everyday is bright and fresh.
Until one day we're picked and taken to new exciting places.
We brighten the place up for a few weeks, maybe even longer; people take notice.
But as time goes by we're overlooked and fade into the scenery.
Then we start to wilt and droop.
The life sucked out of us by our surroundings.
As we shrivel and sag, we're noticed again but for the wrong reasons.
We're hung up in a closet, dry and dead, as nothing but a memory.
Or we're thrown back into the garden to rejoin the dirt.
And hope to grow back out of the ground and be picked again.
Just to have every petal plucked before finally declaring "she loves you not."

dm.

Time-lapse

It's funny how when you lose touch with someone, they stay the same in your mind. You expect that the next time you see them they will be the same age, have the same hair, dress the same.. Even though you know it's been a long time and you've no doubt changed a few times yourself since then, and even if you do realize they won't be the same, there's still that initial shock that you can't get over. Is this really the same person I knew so long ago? Maybe it's more profound when you lose touch with the person when they are a teen in high school. Any number of changes could have occurred since you last saw them, between summers and friends and relationships and college. It makes me sad for some reason. I guess any of us might not recognize ourselves if we saw a picture of our present-day selves a few years ago.

dm.

*

we won't let you in. we won't let you in.

Weeds growing on well-worn paths

Hanging from these strings is overrated.
I'd rather be hanging from your lips.
I only want to climb skyscrapers with you.
To wake up from a dream while never having gone to sleep.
This seed of happiness lay dormant in me.
Awaiting the sunlight that is your smile and the minerals of your mind.
Let me grow up and flourish and keep winter away forever.

I'm imagining skylines at night from a bedroom window.
Bridges and bright lights from a backyard.
Suburbs in the shadow of a great city.
This view of the future is like a two way mirror. Soon I'll see what's really on the other side is just everyone laughing at my brief optimism.
I'm always going, but can't help coming back home to feel safe.
Crossing my fingers under umbrellas in my room.
No such thing as luck. Good or bad.
Locked up my conscience years ago.
It only comes out when it's convenient for me.

Early mornings are late nights.
New thoughts are just recycled from old material.
"The last good thing about this part of town..."
I need to pull over, I'm driving myself crazy.
Maybe I shouldn't pursue engineering, it seems all the bridges I build just burn down in time.
Cremation might be better, I'm used to these ashes.
Tie me to the bumper with some cans to celebrate the newlyweds.
'Do you (mis)take this man...'
Hope he's got a good grip, that's gonna be one hell of a threshold.

(dm)

Scooters

Yesterday morning was my favorite kind of morning. I woke up and walked down the hall to be surprised by the snow covering everything outside. It's a great feeling like I'm a kid again. It only works when you're not expecting it, though. But now, as is life in New Jersey, the snow has melted and you wouldn't even know it was there yesterday.

I miss some of my friends.
Maybe I'll see them soon.
Hope you're having a good VD.

dm.

Something to fall on deaf ears

"The world is spinning by, yelling out for him to come and join them. But his ears are covered and he can only watch their lips moving with half-open eyes. He is awake but the scenery is dreaming past. Eyes pierce his skin, bleeding doubt on his hope. Early for something, but late for everything else. Growing up is growing old. He watches the colors blur together as he sits in a spin of reality. Out of focus, the picture blooms into what could have been. 'What if's' and 'If only's' scream loud enough to hear over the music in his ears. He thinks maybe things could have been perfect for them. The afterlife is just an afterthought. It seems too easy to let everything keep going by without reaching out to try and get a piece of it. He stands up, head spinning, and slowly accepts the hand of someone outside of his solitude. He takes off his headphones, content to make music of his own."

.afrozendream.dm.

An army of penguins...

Send me away, I am uninspired.
I feel robotic.
Standing atop tall buildings doesn't fill me with awe anymore.
Sure, I was there. But it didn't feel as high or like I was floating above the city.
This compound is missing an element.
Questions have more meaning than their answers.
I feel like exploding.
I contradict myself in thought and in action.
I'm a hole in the road, fill me in.

(dm)

I want to..

I want go on a long road trip to somewhere warm where we can drive all day and night with the windows down singing Saves the Day and old Ataris songs. Who's coming?

I know you don't wanna...

sleep here alone. ~cobrastarship

Everything seems to be it's own antithesis at times.
Nothing is really straightforward.
I feel like I'm holding the rest of my life in my arms, but dropping the ball.
My fingers trace the route I've taken before, but I want to travel this well-worn path forever.
Does that mean I'll keep trekking in this vicious circle?
Right now it doesn't seem like such a bad thing.
If only you could take a moment and wrap yourself in it like a blanket, so it completely encompasses you until you peek out for signs of life and find a cruel world that you never want to rejoin.
Maybe that is what we do sometimes, in our heads anyway.
We take for granted the things that mean everything and we dwell in the inconsequential.
"I listen to you talk, but talk is cheap."+44
You've entered my focus, but I've got myself under the microscope.
I'm going to need better instruments.
I'm an open book written in the vernacular; you just need to learn the language.
This is just the cover.

.lovealive.dm.

Not feeling well...

Birthdays are like checkpoints in life; as you round the track for another lap, you stop to evaluate your progress and assess your situation to come. It always feels like the future that everyone has been talking about since we were little is so far away, but it's really just sneaking right up behind us. I watch as some swerve and crash, heading blindly toward whatever comes their way.. and I envy them sometimes. I'm accused of sitting idly by, but I don't agree. I'm doing something for myself and I have good friends; a family that I know will be there if I need them. Having that is good enough for me, someone to be there for and someone that will be there for me.. anything else is icing.

I'm not good at sitting still. My favorite thing to do is plan things to do.. but I also enjoy the actual doing. Unfortunately a few things didn't work out to my liking, but we made the best of it and enjoyed the nice weather.

I don't know where I'll be in a year.. or even less. I'm just concerned with where I am now and where I'll be tomorrow. Maybe that's not wise; not that I'm not looking into the future at all, just that when I do, I can't see that far, so I prefer to look at something closer that I feel like I have control over. I'd like to grab ahold of the future and pull myself towards it, but I also want to savor the things I have now, because you never know when the present will cease to exist and all there will be is the past. I feel like I have immediate regrets, and that annoys me. I seem to realize that I'll regret what I'm doing as I'm doing it.. yet I don't stop myself. "Indecision is worse than the wrong decision.."(~the Sopranos) I put myself in situations that I know will cause me trouble, but it seems that I bask in it. Am I abnormal for behaving this way? Is it just something inside of me trying to escape? I don't know. If so, I'd like to find it and tear it out by the legs and drown it in the pool of sadness it's created.

"We learn from history that we do not learn from history." -Georg Hegel

.dm.

From the city...

If this picture looks familiar, it's the same one from before at night. Central Park.

We went ice skating.

Inside the Guggenheim art museum.

On our way somewhere....

That's all for the photographic tour of our trip.. come back tomorrow for more adventures.

dm

Glad I have friends...

I don't know how to start this.
Nothing to really say I guess.
Slightly depressed that our trip is over so soon.
Slightly depressed that I'll be turning 23 with nothing to show for it.

-no title-

Shining bright like a summer's day
but cold to the touch
The light drains from the sky like the blood
rushing from my heart
Each time you graze my hand

Hard pavement and a soft sky
are all that we need
Nothing new under this sun
so let's make history
That you won't read about in textbooks

A connection like currents
running through veins
Fingertips are circuits
holding the voltage
Until the switch gets flipped

A gaze discovered
and returned
Follow these invisible lines
to a place I'd rather be
Away from wandering eyes and prying minds

Try as you may
this stays with me
Frost on the windshields
is a word frozen in my throat
I need some heat to set it free

Make a wish
and say it aloud
I can be a genie
in one way or another
It would be nice to get out of this lamp sometime.

dm.

Don't get your hopes up

I'm listening to the new Ataris cd with clenched teeth right now.
It's not bad, just different. I know it takes me a while to adjust sometimes, but this is nothing like their old stuff.. any of it. They're completely reinvented. Sad, in a way. I guess everyone grows out of the punk thing after a while.
I just learned something exciting about tomorrow.. I'm not telling yet though, you'll just have to wait.
The non-stop week of fun is coming soon. I really need to prequel it with a non-stop week of looking for work. That is if I hope to have any days of fun at all next year.

Back to Kris Roe's version of Snow Patrol.

dm.

Standing in the way

Reality is subjective.
It's more evident this time of year.
Look at all the kids waiting for the parade to end so they can give Santa their letters.
They're sure that he's really reading over them and bringing what they want.
Then look at the parents who recognize the guy dressed as Santa.
The look in their eyes saying "Don't get too close to my kid."
The man behind the beard trying to stay cheerful for an hour and a half until he gets his check.
Households, families, cities, states.
All upholding this lie.
The weather sattelite on Christmas Eve picks up a strange sight of a sleigh and reindeer.
Drunken uncles scoffing at the gullibility of children.
When really, it's just innocence.
Naivity is a virtue we can't afford when we get older.
We always have to be on our toes.
Reality is never objective, still.

I've been remembering my dreams a lot lately. I usually don't.
Last night I dreamt some weird things. Among them, I was walking around with my great grandfather. Not so strange or extraordinary, except that he died several years ago. We were walking down his street. Walking by his house, talking about what he was going to do (now that he was back from the dead, I suppose?) I asked him if he ever felt sad that we sold his house, as tears welled up in my eyes. He said yes, but he planned to get it back and live there again. We continued walking, as I held his hand tight, like a scared child. We just wandered down the street, chatting as if everything would be okay now that he was back. I think if I had a religion, he would be the bible. So, him rising from the dead isn't that much of a stretch. He is my Messiah. When I question the world, I look to him for answers and he always delivers.

More of the same.

(dm)

I can dish it out but I can't take it...

What can you do when you're up against a disease but you're not the cure?
There's not always an antidote.
Be valiant and fight your best fight.
Don't be afraid to ask for backup.
Sometimes the names that mean the most end up past tense and the result of a chisel's indents.

Three cheers for small victories.

++dm

The easy kill...

Looking back on some things, I realized that bitterness can turn into complacency after enough time. I guess when you have time and some perspective, things fall into place. Unfortunately that doesn't usually set anything in the present right.

Growing up is letting go.
I wish I could just get up and start traveling everywhere in the world today.
Some people see the future with clarity, I just have a blurry image and white noise.
I'm too concerned with right now anyway.

I just finished writing this, don't judge too harshly:

"I'm blowing kisses from the barrel of a gun
But you've got a vest and just won't run
I'm building a wall to draw this line
And you're waiting just to make the climb

If you could see inside of me
You'd turn away and hide your face
Endearing terms of my regret
Vacation in these past events

This isn't part of a life that you could want
Squinting at me like you're staring at the sun
This wasn't covered in the brochures that you got
You're falling backward just to see if you'll be caught

If you could see behind my eyes
And dig beneath my stash of lies
You'd sink into the sands of thought
And find yourself alone and lost

Maybe I'm the creep you've always wanted
If you've got the meat then why go hunting
Maybe you're the bed in which I slumber
You don't know the man beaneath the covers

Chew me up and swallow down
I'm the prince that's plotting for the crown
Abuse this priveledge constantly
Always talking but it's getting hard to breathe

This is the only way out
Following this tunnel through the ground
There's light ahead, we're almost there
Reflecting in the iris of your stare"

Love goes anywhere/dm

Poison hearts will never change

So I'm still alive after hitting a giant branch that the wind knocked out of a tree. There's a hole in my car, but I'm still in one piece. It was on the way back from a semi-productive study session for a test I won't do that well on, so it was a good night!

The breeze isn't the only thing that blows me away.
Holidays are always hectic, but so are we.
I want to lose track of time and stay lost.
Best friends are like coming home to your own bed after a camping trip.
New friends are extra pillows to make you even more comfortable.
Let's just say I'll be sleeping soundly tonight.

Catching up to what I left behind. dm.

You can't be missed...

...if you never go away. *cobra starship*

I like being by myself sometimes. Just sometimes.
I enjoy moments alone with my thoughts.
Just killing time like murder.
Hunting down a thought in my mind is like chasing daylight.
I'm following the edge of the horizon until it all blends together.
The ground becomes the sky and the sky becomes something even less tangible.
A star to wish on for every regret.
After that, start looking for streetlights.
The moon is full tonight, forbidding any wishes.
I can feel it pulling at my stomach.

Christmas is creeping quickly.
I can't wait until it catches up.

-Asleep or dead-dm-

Take apart your head

"Backseat Driving Under the Influence

I am a silent passenger
Following the scenery
Riding an unpaved road
Far away from uncertainty
The seatbelt like a noose
Pulling at my neck
Begging me to stop struggling
And let my feet hang
Street signs pass unnoticed--

I've lost faith in this pen
To write me out of trouble again
I'm losing hope that your smile
Will stick around to get me by
I can't find paper that can hold up
With the weight of these words
But I'm understanding that
You can never forget what you learn
The conductor beckons
And I'm following the wave of his hand
I'm a silent passenger
Following the beat of the band."

love is a currency and I'm broke.
dm.

Will Powerless

I feel helplessly young and old at the same time.
I feel contradictory like that.
It's strange because I'm happy, but not happy with who I am.
I could be more, but I don't feel like I have the motivation.
I wish I was one of the people that suceed despite the odds.
I feel like I use my disadvantages as an excuse. I don't want to.
Coming to this realization should allow me to overcome it, right?
I want to get past my fear of failure, or whatever this is.
I need someone to help me, push me past it.
I need somebody to kick me when I'm down and won't get up.

I don't know if this is the same for anyone else, but when I clean my room, or any room for that matter, I always tend to get stuck at one area. Like if I start out straightening up my desk, I'll be completely focused on that desk trying to make it perfect, losing focus on the big picture of just getting the room clean. I feel like that applies to my life, too. I'll get completely focused on one thing, and let everything else fall by the wayside. While I nurture this one crop and watch it flourish, the rest of my plants are dying without water. I just need to reach a medium where I can focus on several things and give them all appropriate attention. Would anyone like to help?

I'll keep pulling at this thread until it unravels like a thought in my head.

>love is a beat>follow it>dm

Waiting my turn to die

I write words that stay pressed between pages waiting for the day they're pulled apart to let the past out. Words can't live up to emotions, they can only mimic. Try being brutally honest in your writing, because when you read it again years from now, you'll still remember if you lied.

"Shelves

Describe to me a love story
One like this you can't find at a library
Following the punctuation
I only find myself lost in the pages
Looking through the words, I laugh
This reality caught in a paragraph
The feelings that ignite in lovers
Can burn the sheets bound between these covers
I worry that I've made a mess
Start a new chapter, send this one to press
Fighting for a copyright
Eclipsing any fiction you could write
The topics and the tales we tell
We'd do well to live life off the shelf
Eternal life on pages creased
And envied classic status will be reached"

I don't want to run away anymore.
I want to be stationary on this stationery.
Just change the letterhead.

love.dm.

You're a voice that never sings

It's rainy autumn weather, with the perfect soundtrack of the new Brand New record.

Staying in a secluded mountain town was quite refreshing. I took a walk on Friday night at around 9 and there were no cars on the roads at all. It was completely silent as I wandered along the edge of the road, sorting my thoughts. It was mostly a stay inside weekend; lots of scrabble and card games. Sometimes, though, it's the little things that make the biggest impact on your life.

I've got my arms wrapped tight around a good feeling.
I'm taking off the gauze and burning the bandages.

11/10/06

"These feelings fell soft
Like an autumn mountain snow
As you settle into sheets
Watch for the headlights' glow
Seek comfort in a candle
Burning on the window's ledge
Pray to be off in the distance
Staring from the canyon's edge

I've been walking these miles
From the valleys to hills high above
They leave me longing for solid ground
Where I can settle down and start up from

Well, the breeze fell fast
We felt it go by
You knew it was coming
Just a matter of time
Staring down on the good life
From a high winding road
If only we could get there
Down this treacherous slope

I've been walking for miles
Down valleys and up hills high above
They leave me to envy solid ground
Where we could settle down and start up from

Just a mile to go to reach the promised land
Engines fighting the incline reaching toward your hand
I think maybe one day we'll look back at this
And laugh at all the pain inside we'll never miss
I'll keep my eyes ahead to navigate these curves
But falling from this hilltop, nothing's sure."

Always keep your fingers crossed.

/luck & love/dm/

Right now they're building a coffin your size

Alas, I have not updated in a while. I've been busy... sort of. This weekend I'll be staying on a mountain halfway across the keystone state. Speaking of which, I'm running kind of late for that, so this is going to be a small update.

I'm feeling far away and we haven't left yet. Maybe I'll feel closer to myself once I'm out of town. Success of our friends can make us look at our own lives a different way. Am I wasting my time? I don't think so, I'm having fun. I still feel like a kid, it's nice to be able to be reckless when you can afford to. I've never been that party kid, getting drunk or high every weekend. I never will be. Being stupid while sober is so much better. I'd like to think being drunk off of laughter is more intoxicating and memorable than any processed grain. I hope I'm wasted all weekend.

>love >dm

The past is just the future with the lights on

"Take this letter and slit your kiss,
Let the words pour from the wound between your lips,
And fill the page with words I can't accept,
I've got letters of my own,
It's like the last real thing on earth is falling free,
Gravity, don't fail me now,
I'm scratching the surface again,
But never breaking in,
Watch the stars close for a sign from the heavens,
Codemn the lying faces hiding their cards,
But I'm no better behind a guilty hand,
All I can do is play what I'm dealt and watch the chips fall,
The explanation is in your eyes,
And the inflection of your goodbyes,
Succeeded by the sounds of good cries,
Sadness for the undeserved familiarity,
Smiling in between sobs,
Trying to regain the happiness of which you've been robbed."

+stop and smell the (p)roses+dm+

Time to get these seeds into the cold ground...

It's been feeling like fall, but tonight is the first night I've felt winter coming.
The moon is shining bright on the frost-nipped soil.
Leaves are falling from the trees like hopes once held high.
Sometimes it's best to ignore me; you've had plenty of practice.
My last entry was pretty downbeat, but to clarify, the time since then has been anything but. It's been all good times as of late.
Some old sayings apply better to science than society.
Save me some coffin nails, I'm putting the finishing touches on my grave.
Come to my funeral wearing a smile.
Dress in a suit and (sever your) tie(s).

...it takes a while to grow anything. ~bn

.dm.

Rant

I was having a good day this morning. Not for any reason in particular, I was just happy. Now I've got that metallic saliva taste in my mouth, and I can't seem to break a smile. I've tripped and now I'm just waiting to feel my face hit the pavement. I'm living in this falsity. (That's probably not a word, but I'm gonna use it to mean false reality.) At least I'm living I guess. A thousand happy days can't make up for regrets. Nothing much more to say.. be well.

dm.

Your whisper's like a bridge...

Currently Listening: Brand New - Sowing Season
Currently Can't Wait For: Brand New's cd, Nov. 14
Currently Hating: Good Charlotte's new single
Currently Thinking About: You

It's funny how a death in the family can affect you, even if it's an aunt you haven't talked to or seen in years. But, as I know, death is the only sure thing in life. I kind of accept this reality, but I still can't really rationalize it. I try to think of things in common sense terms, but no matter how many times I try to wrap my head around the idea of death, I can't do it. I guess that doesn't make me special in any way; cultures all over the world have been fascinated and perplexed by the idea of death and afterlife since life began. But, while thinking about it I feel alone. Maybe it's my lack of spirituality or my need to question the unknown, but it really gets to me. I just sit and scribble my thoughts, sometimes they rhyme:

"It Only Hurts When I Laugh

From the hospital sheets with the view of the courtyard,
To the funeral march in the sun with your headlights on,
Running this red light to get to the underground,
Fighting this urge to speak to your headstone now,
Turned up soil on the ground at your feet,
Next to tears for the words we never got to speak

And now we're left to wonder what's next,
Look into my eyes and you'll see my soul has left
With you,
And the moonlight's shining for you

Nostalgia can't explain how I feel,
Like a classic film that never left the reel,
And you're waving goodbye just by closing your eyes,
But you never meant to leave us alone

While I'm lost in the twinkle of the stars in the sky,
Your spirit tears away but there's a piece of you inside
Of me,
And the moonlight's shining for you

This can't be real, it's not right,
No, I'll never let you leave my sight,
And when I finally come to see you I know,
That this can be explained,
No, I'm with you here..."

.lovelost.dm.

I could still be ruthless...

The clouds look like winter's coming.
Sometimes I feel like a shut-in.
I'm disappointed.
"I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go."
The leaves are showing their true colors. You should too.

I'm gonna go set a new personal record.
dm.

We are salt and you are the wound

Went to Central Park in Manhattan today, I really liked this picture of the city and nature; manmade vs. natural. Which is more beautiful? I have a soft spot for both, honestly. Probably why I enjoy this type of picture so much.

I'm about to go to a Halloween party, therefore: costume required. I can't do my original idea tonight, but I have to whip something up quick. Any ideas?

I've written a couple of things lately, I always get inspired when I'm at school:

10/18/06
"Compost

Why do we waste what is most valuable?
Time, our least abundant resource, is wasted more than any fossil fuel
Most all of us are guilty
Forget about nuclear fusion--
If we harness time, we can achieve anything
Anyone reading should tell me to take my own advice.
Time seems endless until we have a limit
What would you do if you just received that final eviction notice?
The closing time
When there's an end on the calender, you can fit a lot more inside those little squares
Each hour, you feel every minute, every second drop off the edge
Like a conveyor belt to a black hole
And you're stuck on the track, helpless to wait
Now is the time
To define your existence
Let pettiness and shame fall aside
Allow yourself to escape from your shell of skin
And open like a flower to the world
Absorbing every sunbeam and raindrop
Until the last winter leaves you brown and wilted to return to the earth..."

10/3/06
"So much talking
No one has anything important to convey
A new life
Potential for so much insight--
but isn't that true of each of us?
Wasted potential
Thoughts never thought
A critical analysis of wasted hours
A tear for every missed opportunity-
we're crying forever.
How do we learn to express and exchange these emotions
So many trying to sneak by life in the night without a thought at all
Why examine life when it goes on?
Why question when you can survive without introspection?
I'm asleep in a philosophical coma--
wake me in a like-minded world."

I'm off to pretend I'm someone I'm not. (It's okay, it's the only time of year that it's cool to admit that)
dm.

A stone's throw away from a rock fight

Bad Religion is still amazing, start listening to them again.

I wrote this the other day--
10/12/06
"Reconstruction

Cities are like people
Each with a different face
Beautiful from afar, bright
But delve inside and find darkness
Find loathing and sadness
The city with the steel exterior
Is weak and crumbling from inside
Crying out in vain
Never loud enough to permeate
The bloodflow of traffic
Every bus and taxi traveling through the heart
Visitors working their way inside
With no other purpose than to hurt
To rob and steal and leave a gaping wound
A red billow of cells pour outward
Sending a smoke signal to be seen for miles
Burning away the rivets and steel that hold us up
Until we can stand no longer
Collapsing, leaving so much of ourselves deceased
Broken, now people give their attention
Lying quiet, eyes on alert
Darkened streets echo sirens unheard
As a new dawn breaks, you salvage what's left
You prepare yourself daily; rehabilitating
For the day you will stand tall again
Showing the world a new face--
A fractured, but stronger face
You watch the world with new eyes
Cautious of each car crossing your brightly-lit waterways
Living to love and give and be hurt again
Jagged and reaching for the stars
Outshined by the glow of our skylines"

We fit like jigsaw pieces from different puzzles. dm.

"You just can't fill up my glass as fast as I can finish"

-Just wrote this. Something to think about.-

The imaginary line on my glass is half full
And we're out of time- never learned this back in school
What can we say?
What can we say but--
This is your class, it's an ordinary life
Can't fail or pass, but you're not doing fine
Circling the drain and you can't fight the current
Drowning in your thoughts but can't stop them burning

So we're expected to die for a messiah,
and float above while others cry,
When we're content with being lied to by messiahs,
This fear and fate will rule our lives

If thinking is a crime then you can find me guilty
Read the standard lines, filled with hypocricy
What can we say?
Don't know what to say but--
Just raise your hand in opposition to the crowd
This too shall pass if we shout it out loud
Fight through the multitude of "solitary thinkers"
Their lips move fast, but we can we can sure as hell think first

So we're expected to die for a messiah,
and float above while others cry,
When we're content with being lied to by messiahs,
This fear and fate will rule our lives

Who am I to mess with destiny?
Who am I to say that I can absolutely see?
Who am I to pressure destiny?
Who am I to say the things I really want to say,
The things we're all afraid to say?
Everybody give my best to destiny.

dm.

I can't do this all on my own

I've come to know 5AM as bedtime. I've also become well-aquainted with that feeling in the pit of my stomach like something is horribly wrong and what's worse is that I don't have any idea what it is. However, on a lighter note, I've downloaded the 13-part miniseries on the American Revolution I plan on watching soon. I'm a dork, history really interests me.

My thoughts, they have teeth
And these words are the bitemarks on your neck
My gazes are sharp
These looks are the scars of the future

We can only become what's left over,
the cream at the top of the milk,
the byproduct of a better working machine,
steam above water.

Don't fix what's not broken.
Don't reach for what's not there.
Don't try to change the wind.
Don't forget to write.

.abyproductoflove.dm.

Running in a dream and it's like slow motion...

It must be a joke played by the gods when there's nothing at all to do some of the time and other times there's so much to choose from you can't make a choice. Tonight was the former, nothing really to do. Took a drive, hung out and watched dogs fight, and went running.

I want so much to open your eyes cuz I need you to look into mine.

Marching past each open window
Screaming inside with our eyes
Wishing to join the ranks
Reaching inside with our minds
Don't stray your gaze
To the greener grass nextdoor
Bear dead-ahead with purpose
And find so much more

.lovenofear.x.fearnolove.
.dm.