you don't know me, and you don't even care.

we are presenting one side of ourselves while hiding the fading truth in the palm of our hands.
but no one will reach out.

if you let me.

if you let me, i will pick that note from out of the trash and make it worth something again.

before we lose ourselves for certain and our stars fade into the darkness from where they came.

i would like to see you smile.

i won't tell anyone.

     i promise.

it gets cold sometimes

i am trying.

it seems like i am making no progress, and it ruins my thoughts

but i am trying.


maybe tomorrow will be better. can i call you then?

sewn into the lining of my jacket

Bad news is an interesting thing.

i feel like i'm always preparing for bad news.

well, bad news came today. and i wasn't ready for it at all. 
not even a little.

i was at school, i was with friends, i was driving home, i was taking a nap.

now all i can do is think of you.



I'm Sorry.

i died today.

 

 i drove to the pier.

and walked a bit.

 

the same pier where i spent all those summer nights with my old friend and 

the girls we met along the way. 

i thought about you.

 

 i jumped a fence at the far end of the pier with a big warning sign.

i walked over the water to the edge and i sat not far from the water.

i didn't fear the height anymore.

 

 i sat outside the park.

the same park where we spent many years riding those old fair rides and 

dreaming that maybe these times would stay forever.

 

 i sat down and had a beer.

then i had half a bottle of tequila.

alone.

in the background some song played

 and i wished it was a different one.

 

when i stumbled upstairs

 i dusted off my old uniform.

i never wore this for anything good.

 

 i tried it on and was surprised that it still fit.

i never updated my rank.

not after you died.

 

i looked at all the pills i needed now to function.

to make me into someone that can smile when others did.

 

then i took them all at once.

 

a small part of me wanted to come back.

but it was too late.

i died in the bathroom by myself.

two days before, i had been at my niece's birthday party.

no one knew anything was wrong.

look for me when i'm gone...

forever

an unfinished song idea

Sometimes i go out by myself, and i look across the water...

       when I was in high school I was in love with this girl named Valerie for a heart beat or two.
She was a real tomboy-looking girl with this pretty face that didn't really match anything else about her.

      I remember her in the kind of tight black pants that are cool in present times (except they weren't see through back then) and wearing some big ass skater shoes that matched her ears, which always stuck out through her hair.

      she had this scratchy voice like Emma Stone, Jennifer Tilly, or Eliza Dushku, and I had always been a fan of that, even in my high school times. I remember just wanting to listen to her talk, even if it wasn't to me.

      I remember one time a few of us were standing in the commons or whatever it was called where everyone hung out during lunch. we had this little are surrounded by some lockers that opened up on the third side to accommodate a table for some of us to sit. I usually stood.
      I remember it was around the time that kids figured out you could turn a can of keyboard cleaner upside down and suck on it to "get high". This day I was watching our small group pass around this can when it came to Valerie. She grabbed it, turned it upside down and sucked in a giant breath of propellant. I remember the next part even now, over ten years later.
      She moved the can away from her lips, turned pale, and fell to the floor in what was called "flopping" back then (since you looked like a freshly caught fish when it happened) because it happened so much that it acquired a proper name.
      When the other kids standing around us saw what happened, they left. They took off like they didn't want to get caught or be responsible for what had happened, or because they were turds down inside. And I was left standing there with a girl passed out at my feet who I had a crush on.
      I quickly picked her up and sat her on one of the now empty chairs all around us. As I pushed some dark hair out of her face she asked me what happened. I told her that she had passed out from inhaling that shit and she looked up at me, embarrassed. that kind of embarrassment that comes after you did something you know was stupid in front of other people.
      After a while she was well enough to get up and go back to class eventually.

I'd like to say that we became friends and talked more often after that, but we didn't. I liked her and I wanted to save her, and when I had my chance, I picked her up and sent her away.

All I have left of that time now is a terrible yearbook photo and a red backpack just like the one I used throughout high school.

But I still remember her sometimes, barely as tall as my chest, hair in a sloppy pony tail, raspy voice laughing at something a bit harder than everyone else around her.

     That was Valerie.

everyone is guilty

this is for the people who don't read this anymore. it makes sense.

more old shit

thinking about our younger years... there was nothing else.
it was you, me, and a world against us. or so we thought.
i remember the fights.. and tears.. and words i said..
but i don't have to.
and although we aren't friends anymore... it doesn't matter.
this is what it takes to get to where we are supposed to be.
there's a price to pay for everything.
and even though the blame lies with me...
sometimes i miss your electric blue eyes.
if the eyes are the windows to the soul.. i'm afraid i had been staring at a wall the whole time.
love doesn't go away.. it just goes somewhere else.
love is energy... and you cannot create or destroy energy.
our love is in the memories we have made, and the letters, and pictures.. and old kisses, and touches. all neatly placed in a box and hidden away somewhere.
 this isn't hard to see.


but you actually have to think about it.
and although i wouldn't go back to that time... i wouldn't change it either.

(end with a quote)
      "god only knows what i'd be without you"

going through some old shit. maybe you've seen it before.

she's a girl, who made me ashamed of my torn pants, a girl i crank called. when she
reached her hand to me i just turned her down.

she's a girl, who was moving faster than i wanted to. once i got her, i didnt know what to
do with her. she lasted shorter than i meant her to.

she's a girl, who played violin, and could never make up her mind. she never let me kiss
her, someone else did instead. i used to write for her.

she's a girl, who was a man's initials. she held my arm and walked me down the hall. i
remember her face like an eternally setting sun.

she's a girl, who was lost and tried to find her way back with her body. i lied to her
about mine. we never kissed. but she more than kissed my friend.

she's a girl, who was a friend, to another girl. she stole my 1st kiss. along with my
1st touch, and cried when i left.

she's a girl, with buckles on her shoes, who sat with me on tower 6, and waited till i was
ready. i stole her 1st time. she held me up when i needed her most... and then never
returned.

she's a girl, who was a hoodrat. she said i was fine, and gave me her picture.
i was so shy, i couldnt let her in.

she's a girl, who i laughed at, and played with her hair. she made my friends
jealous... and sent me cookies while I was in bootcamp. we laid on her carpet, and painted everything blue. when i went away... so did she.

she's a girl who saw me at a poetry reading, and caught me in the hall. she kissed me in
that same hall, and loved me from far. she was a terrible friend. but always wrote to me
when i needed her most.

she's a girl who wore glasses, and had straight dark black hair. she wanted her
boyfriend to be more like me. but she didnt want me.

she's a girl, who was my friends girl. she came with me to vegas, we slept in he same bed.
i was her addiction. when the habit was over, all i had was my guitar.

she's a girl who gave herself away to everyone but me. we traded books and memories. i
played her my guitar. she kissed me when i was drunk.

she's a girl who liked the beatles, and played the piano. i asked her to be mine...
but i wasnt hers. mixing anger and longing, we shared a cigarette, and a subconscious
goodbye.

she's a girl, who was my sisters friend. i saw her when i came down the stairs, and
time settled there.  when the truth became evident, neither heart was spared.

she's a girl i met in a different state. she let me sleep in her bed. Makers bar was
our hideout, till i got in that car.

she's a girl who i met twice, both times in different states. she kissed my face in a
bar.. a year later we met again. strangers asked if we were married. i took a cab
home from her hotel, and we never spoke again.

she's a girl who came slowly, but the wind took her away. i was dressed as a bunny, she
was dressed as a myth. i had no way to see her, and she fluttered away.

she's a girl who i met online, under the guise of intelligence. she was drunk when it
happened, then she shit on my dreams. she let me go with a letter... left on my pillow
like a mint.

she's a girl who i ruined, with my rough heavy hands. we were living in secrets. she
took me to my dreams, and i turned away to be alone.

she's a girl who i saw through. when i told her she laughed, on the inside she cried.
we were happy one season, when the time changed we died.

she's a girl who i noticed, from across the room. we had almost been meeting, but the time
wasnt right. i asked her to save me. maybe i was asking the truth. pumpkins on that warm
blanket, i was still cold inside.






 

something old and faded

rain on your windows
thoughts leading dreams
cobalt and fading
eyes glittering

crimson creators
seductively curve
static attraction
recharge and burn

resting on pale silk
shocks of rose red
all things seductive
blind in the end

sunset caresses
playing like streams
undamaged landscapes
senses release

cobalt and fading
eyes beckoning
rain on souls windows
thoughts leading dreams

last year

i am drunk.


last year, around this time... i was getting almost arrested because i was so drunk and apparently walking out in public at 3 or 4 AM that the cops picked me up and almost arrested me. i was upset because something that i knew would happen, happened.

this year. around this time, i find it hard to be any different, besides the fact that i am not in the back of a cop car.

this is not an accomplishment. the reward will come when i have completed the entire process and have secured a job. there is nothing to celebrate yet.

i have zero accomplishments.

none.

so this is my final push to make something of myself.

i was a turd when i was in high school and i'm a turd now. the only difference is i know how to recognize that now.

i live with my mother, i am responsible for nothing, i can do nothing.

I
AM
NOTHING.

I'm getting tired of starting again... somewhere new. again.

      I guess what I want to say is that sometimes you lose friends and there's something that can be done about it, and sometimes you lose friends and there's nothing you can do about it.

nothing within reason at least.
 in the movies there's always some bullshit great length that can be traversed in order to right the wrong. but in real life, things just don't work that way. I've lived my life like a novel that Hemingway threw in the garbage, I just picked it out and read it with rose colored glasses.

 
the funny thing is that I kept reading the same part over and over again, but only sometimes did I get any feeling out of it.


you know, we went out to the bar and I paid for everything because at that time in history I was ahead. and we drank like we would never see each other again...

and in a way, we didn't.

E.B.

     ...and for one desperate moment. 
i felt like saying something to make you stay.
but that's all i would be doing. 
 making you stay.

if left to my own thoughts, i will always let people do what they want. 
in this case it's clear.

you know, sometimes, you bring someone a flower...
...and by the time they see it, it has died.
by the time they notice.

it has died.

Record Store Day, and i've got no car.

So here is my rare copy of The Virgin Suicides soundtrack on vinyl.

roadtrips not taken

Watching motorcycle diaries makes me think of all the things me and my best friend never did.

We never went on that post-high school road trip to nowhere. We never even graduated high school together.

 

I got kicked out of school around February of senior year and ended up finishing at another school and graduating before everyone else. (with a 3.5 GPA)

 

...but that meant that i didn't get to share in graduations festivities with all my friends. I did attend, but I was watching from the stands and as of now i remember more about my sister’s graduation than I do of my classmate’s graduation. If it weren’t for the pictures I have I’m sure that would be gone from my mind as well.

I left for boot camp immediately after graduation.

I didn’t get a final summer.

That means that I didn’t get to go screw around with all my friends before we decided what colleges we were going to go to, or if we were even going to go.

By the time my friends were starting their first year of college, I was across the world learning different things.

 

I learned that long distance relationships don’t last when you’re 18.

I learned that only when you’re helpless do those things you worry about not having control over actually happen.

I learned to depend on myself and no one else. (I still do this)

I learned that I was smart enough to get by, but not smart enough to avoid life.

I learned that when you push your hand through a wooden locker one time with success, maybe you shouldn’t try again.

I learned to live on my own, even though I always had room mates.

 

I spent two years away. I spent two years away because I had broken up with my high school sweetheart, and I didn’t feel the need to come home any time soon anymore. So I decided to extend my overseas service for another year.

That decision led me to my final meeting with my cousin in life.

 

I learned to appreciate the time we have with people and that sometimes a cab ride and giving away of “things” can be a substitute for “goodbye”.

 

I learned that if you believe in yourself, others will too. (I flew home to California with a set of fake orders that someone had printed up for me at the administration office and a little bit of guilt trip applied to the airport personnel.)I wasn’t supposed to land in California for another few weeks, but I was done with Okinawa and no one could stop me. Not even my healing broken hand.

 

I joined the military when I was 17 and lost all of my friends.

 

We still exist in this world where proximity is not an excuse to see each other and every few years someone dies or gets married and we all get together again to explain why we haven’t called. Sometimes I’ll catch a movie like “The Motorcycle Diaries” and I’ll get all sentimental and write something like this.

I had a friend one time that was as scared as I was. And when we were together we were the adolescent angst that all those punk songs we loved only screamed about. Now he lives right down the road and I haven’t seen him in forever. Sometimes I find him, but he never wants to stay in the light anymore. So I’m left holding a torch with nothing to burn for.

 

 

 

 

Sam and I right before senior prom.

i should be studying.. again.

     i was driving home just now, drinking a soda and listening music fairly loud.

i was thinking about alfredo.

i have been thinking about him for a while now. i think i'm going to make him the next subject in my 30 seconds project. so, i have to find a fitting song.

i found a song yesterday, i think. and it made me think of alfredo.


we were twenty-ish. i was home for my birthday.
alfredo still had a car, and we all still could hang out in the same place at the same time.

i remember being in uniform.
it was some time after september 11th.

wait... that means i wasn't home for my birthday.

i'm no longer sure what i was home for. ohhh... maybe it was the funeral. i was wearing my dress blues.

anyway.

we were young men. invincible. on our way to the airport. in alfredo's car.

it was me, sam and alfredo was driving.

we packed my stuff into my big green seabags and threw them into the jetta. sam got into the back seat and i got into the front passenger side. alfredo had a six pack of Corona bottles for the road.

i didn't drink like that.

so we drove to LAX, and alfredo drank the beers, one at a time, until they were almost gone.
then he had to pee. we had to pull off the freeway and drive into some random los angeles neighborhood so he could get out and piss against a pole on some dark street while we waited in the car. but that's what it is to be cool. you can't tell him he shouldn't do that.

he gets back in the car and we drive the rest of the way to the airport. along the way i collect bottles at my feet until i have the complete six empties under me. my shiny black shoes reflect the passing streetlights almost as well as the rims of the now empty glass bottles do.

we get to the airport and there's a big line.

The Inspection Point.

shit.


alfredo was six beers in, the car reeks, there's empties all over the floor and we have zero excuses and i need to be on that plane back to okinawa.

i was starting to freak out and so was sam. alredo was always unnaturally cool.

we get up to the point where to cops are standing guard. one on each side.
by this time we have shuffled the bottles under whatever we can find and made ourselves to look as normal as possible.

we pull up to the stop point and the cops look at alfredo, then at me.
then, they just wave us through. they see that i am a Marine and just wave us through without even rolling down the window or anything.

we calmly roll through and when we are far enough away we let out a loud roar of laughter that says... did you fucking see that?! how lucky are we!!... tinged with a little bit of nervousness and covered in young bravado. we had won.

i don't remember anything after that part, but i will always remember the night alfredo drank a six pack of bottles while he drove me back to the airport. the music was loud and the air was warm. i had nowhere left to run.

we were young, and we thought we were men,
life was as real as it was going to get that year...

that's alfredo on the right in the yellow shirt. ha.

30 seconds (part 4)

still love me...

 i have nothing to do with this song, but i do enjoy it. so here it is.

30 Seconds (part 3)

Part 3 of the 30 second project. watching old tape is ...

The Speech

Something i have had in my mind for over a year, here it is now.

.alive

     I watch these things, and I feel something inside. I feel it coarse through me. I feel alive.



     I always think I could save you. could have saved you.
I feel my heart beat through my chest and I can't stop my mind again.


     in the end I always fail.

I always fail.



    but I feel alive. I feel the last gift you left me.