Friday, May 13, 2011
Saturday, April 30, 2011
"I have been traveling alone."
"I tried traveling alone... and something, went awry. I did something..." tears...
"oh no. You poor man." reaching over to the open shoulder. It's pushed away, tears are pushed back behind the eyes once again.
"Don't, it's my own damn fault. And I've been running faster than I've ever run before."
"You can't do everything."
Monday, April 25, 2011
Professional killer, destroy me not
provocative instigator, I revel so
I wasn't quite true
so we bled through
Childish beholder, never forgot
untimely death, into the depth
Success is nothing, but greek to me
growing weary and weak.
Wasn't built for greatness
wasn't built for fame
It's all just a shame
and I don't blame You
Poster child with no poster
I ain't got nothn' to lose.
Only the exhaustion from huntn'.
Lines entangled together,
cut it loose for christs sake!
-Something I found
While on a hunt through Bens' Potter shoppe. I found a room, covered in glass and a sound booth inside. The first day I found a letter written for a last anonymous playlist a group of people were making for each other. It appears they would write notes about their troubles anonymously as a group and share, just hide them or put them in a pile. I found the remnants of one persons mix cds. Just the list of songs from the month October and a note that goes with the last playlist shared. Here is the note I found:
"You - (you),
I am sorry to tell you that this is the end - the last of the Monthly anonymous mix cds. i don't know if i will ever be able to explain what it meant to me to be part of this - and to be included in your lives. Thank you. for giving me this outlet - this beautiful place to exist as something secret, & intimate, & rare. if you want to know me, please! send me an e-mail - (firstname.lastname@example.org)
if you would prefer to have the intrigue, take it - it's yours to keep. Thank you, again, for listening - for being a breathing human being with ears & heart & penchant for mystery & eccentricity. thank you for letting me into your life. i loved this. so much. thank you, thank you, than you. & goodbye.
your secret friend."
This is the first playlist I found:
(to be listened to in the dark during a thunderstorm.)
1. mirah: cold cold water*
2. the mountain goats: dilaudid*
3. mark mothersbaugh: we call them pirates out here*
4. the decemberists : II (from the train)*
5. rufus wainwright: evil angel*
6. elysian fields: black acres*
7. denale: function
8. cat power: the werewolf song*
9. radiohead: exit music (for a film)*
10. murder by death: that crown don't make you a prince*
11. sufjan stevens: john wayne gacy, jr.*
12. elliott smith: angeles*
13. low: whore*
14. bjork: unravel*
15. sigur ros: saeglopur*
16. the new year: 18
17. m83: safe*
18. the album leaf: window*
I wondered if this was the last playlist mentioned, but I decided to look around the next day again... a bit more thoroughly. I brought a flashlight this time. I found another playlist printed this time, it was the last one! It was in May, here is the mix cd:
[alas! the last, the last. how I loved this (you).]
1. the one a.m. radio: measured mile begins
2. editors: let your good heart lead you home*
3. sufjan stevens: chicago (acoustic)*
4. badly drawn boy: camping next to water*
5. casey dienel: the la la song
6. joanna newson: clam, crab, cockle, cowrie*
7. bob dylan & johnny cash: girl of the north country
8. arcade fire: cold wind
9. ben lee: in my life
10. elliott smith: i better be quiet now
11. the wekerthans: left & leaving
12. denison witmer: this and that
13. figurines: race you
14. destroyer: streethawk II
15. sunset rubdown: us ones in between
16. jeff buckley: last goodbye
17. andrew bird & nora o'connor: oh, sister
18. wilco: she's a jar
19. the shins: harvest moon (live)
20. nick drake: which will
21. ben folds: evaporated*
I found the last playlist, I went on an adventure in the store. It's so big and has so much history. At one point it was an art studio, school, computer lab, dance studio, stores, pottery shoppe, recording lab, and recreational hall. So there was soo much stuff to look at.
Also, through this I need your help. I really enjoy the idea of being part of this history. This liturgy fromm people I don't know and I won't get a hold of. I tried to e-mail that person, but no luck. Which is ok, I can let my imagination fill in the rest. It makes for a great story, people who knew each other but really... didn't. Helped one another through something, something great and something different. Just by making playlists and mix cds with a note attached. How amazing we are! This human race. So much despair but so much tenacity and curiosity that leads us into danger and greatness. It's considerably absurd and such an audacity but, truly beautiful.
So, this is the help I need. You'll notice a * next to some songs, these are the songs I have. If anyone knows or has some songs to help me obtain to have these mixes in a whole... I will, give to them, completed mixes and a special something with it for the trouble. It would be much appreciated!
Now here are some photos and a song by Morrissey.
Have you ever had any adventures like this? Going on hunts and finding random pieces from time past?
Saturday, April 2, 2011
By: Kristoffer Denoyer
As I have come to slowly realize, that once I have lost what I hold dear, literally everything, I have gained eternity. A sort of... infinity so to speak. With that in mind, I started my Night and as Night persists, while life carries on I shall forever delve into insanity a little bit more. From what I have experienced this eve and now that dawn is upon my unrested body. I think of a joke first thing, if there is no rest for the wicked, then I am Voldemort. I giggle to myself. Straight away my mind turns to a serious note, I feel neither life nor death shall bring me closer to truth. So do not disturb these bones, please. Perhaps that’s what should rest on my tombstone.
Maybe death and life are nothing more then perceptions amongst a world powered by nature and nature is quite far from our human logic. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against it nor chaos, these Nights are made for chaos and insanity. In a way the only branch I have left to feeling, for pleasure, to any spiritual existence once held dear. Growing tired of the saviour, no longer wishing to be saved, no, I wanna be free. The two are separable and if it is all perception, what I am being saved from? My own self? I dig me.
Now my morning begins, warm cup of joe and a fag in my mouth. Stepping outside in my pea-coat, I allow the dew to settle on me before taking any hasty movements. Taking a seat as if I am forming a piece of the stone that rests under my ass, my body never truly settles. I decide it is time to light up, each move is cool and crisp. I can’t feel the strains endured from the Night before. Upon staring at the dew I ponder all the girls I once loved, Green comes to mind, if people are like rain, I would be drizzle and they would be hurricanes. I mean, that’s what seems so exotic about it. The flare, mystery, an unknown element that grasps the attention of any onlooker or passerby. The sought adventure, what’s more interesting then something beyond understanding? All this whilst the blinders slowly crack open, freeing the once sheltered eyes. Seeing a sun anew, as if stars never existed. All additives to the Night, an extension of the existentialist existence.
My coffee’s bloody cold... my square isn’t quite finished. I wonder if anyone is up quite yet. I shan’t wake them. Can’t believe it’s seven in the morn, my obscenely tired body hit the mattress only two hours ago. And already my blood is pumping, heart is racing, my leg is hopping at a considerable rate. That’s good I suppose, means this body hasn’t objected to the Night I have grown in to.
Lost in thought as always, I was startled by a loud bang behind me. To my surprise it was May, I quite fancied her. She was a great girl, but a hurricane. She sat right next to me, without question took a smoke and a sip of cold brewed coffee. Standing May briskly went inside and freshened it up, handing it to me, “Here man, no use having a chilled cup of coffee on such a chilly morning.”
“Thanks, Amiga. Everyone still sleepn’?”
“Umm,”, she says while looking back, “not sure, I was hoping the bang of that door would wake their asses up.” She started to light her cigarette. I don’t know what it is but, watching her smoke makes me want to smoke. It looks like it’s her first one every time. Also, watching her smoke is of interest to me, no idea why, just is. I looked over at her smirking, “It’s about damn time,” I respond. Pulling out another stick from the pack, “I’m hungry, May” I liked to say her name, there was something eloquent about it, a name with class.
“Ya man, how did you sleep last night?” I had been awaiting that question, so I can make room for my joke. So I got ready to re-quip, “Well if rest is truly for the wicked, then I my friend, am Voldemort.” From behind came a gasp, We both had turned. Mika was in the doorway, “He-who-should-not-be-named! My gawd.” we all chuckled. “Let me grab my jacket.”
“Did you sleep well, man?” She moved her neck around, “Not as well as I had hoped, just a bit stiff.” She took a drag, “Getting better with every puff though.” Which made me smirk. Mika had made her way outside, “Mind if I have one of those?”
“Not at all.” May and I stated in unison. Quickly I followed it up with, “Jinx! You owe me a coke!”
“DAMMIT!” She exclaimed. Mika was laughing as she tried to light up, having a deal of trouble as it was jumping around from laughter. “Dude, I didn’t even notice you open the door.”, I mentioned. She finally got her cig lit, “That’s right bitches, ninja skills.”
May snickered and slyly rebuked, “Ya, something like that, creeper.” Mika frowned, trying to keep her reaction serious, “You don’t mean that.”
“Aww... let me hugs you!” May flung her arms open, “No way, fuck you man!”, exasperated Mika. Pushing the embrace away with one arm until finally a loving bear hug occurred. Events like this happen frequently between them, but always for a good laugh. They were adorable.
As only an onlooker, I commentated, “Isn’t that just the cutest dammed thing I ever did see.” Taking a sip of my coffee, adding a southern twang, “Good Golly Gee Wilikers.”
“Shut up, you know you love it.” Exclaimed Mika as they both swing down to share the love my way. Making sure I don’t spill my coffee or burn anyone with my smoke, entrapped on both sides, “Oh yes, how would I survive without this affection? I’d die I say, I’d die.”
May started to stand, “ I’m gonna go get ready. Then wake up Diana.” I finish puffing on my fag, “Go for it, ma’am.”
Mika hands her cigarette my way, “Could you hold this? I need to use the restroom.” I grab it, “Thanks, man.” They both head inside, I make note that her smoke is in my right hand, while my smoke is in the left. Not that it really matters. Share and share alike, I say. My mind wanders back to the dew upon the grass, thinking about how I am the only male here. I don’t mind it in the least, most the time I appreciate it. Though they’re hurricanes, the exception is Mika, who is more like myself. In the areas of love, her and I have a certain connection of understanding. I mean, still have similarity to May and Diana, just in different areas.
Damn, my butts cold. So I stand, leaning my back against the house. It’s also getting bright outside, I exchange my thick rimmed glasses with similar sunglasses. I feel like Dylan. On that note, I take a long methodical drag staring into the sunlight. Today is not where I saw myself a year ago, but I don’t know where else I wish to be. As Douglas said, “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”
Mika sauntered back out leaning across from me, I relight her square, it had gone out. “Thanks darlin’.”, putting her sunglasses on. She was a ravishing gal, so caring and loving. I just absolutely love her mussed up hair, it’s amazing. I wish I had it, but couldn’t pull it off nearly as well. “No worries, ma’am. Now, how did you sleep?”
In the sunlight, the peace before she answered, I wonder, how did I get so lucky? Surrounded by beautiful people both inside and out. I question this oft. She moved her back about, “hmm, I had a goodnight. I never really sleep though.”
“So, you feeln’ alright?” I bent over, putting out my fag in the dirt.
Laughingly responding, “Tired.” Blowing smoke over her shoulder. She looked at the bright red glow, ashing the cig. She seemed rather distracted. Out of curiosity I ask, “What happens to be passing through those thoughts of yours?”
Pulling her gaze up towards me, crushing the glowing ember, “Huh? Oh, nothin’. Let’s get to the coffee shoppe.” Pondering if that’s the truth or not, I look down at my cold mug. “Ya, Lez go.” Meandering back inside. Starting to yell, “Diana! Diana! Diana! Wake up!” Her small voice echos back, “I’m up already.” So I take a seat on the couch and switch glasses again.
Mika heads back to the other end of the house, assuming to pack up.
May is siting on the kitchen counter, I can see half of her from the door way. Most likely on her phone catching up on conversations.
Diana was getting ready to leave.
Which reminds me, I haven’t checked my phone since I went outside. I don’t expect to have anything new. The main posse is here, oh, it seems I misplaced my phone in between the couch cushions.
Surprisingly I have new messages, both from the same person. Forgetting the fact I have been documenting my Night. Sending pictures with commentary to a friend far away. Just so they feel more in touch with life here. To him, at times, this is a whole new reality. It could be, considering my brighter times prior in life. His messages read, “OH! New people I don’t know and a dog, can we turn that dog into a battle puppy?” and “Her face is very blurry, you should work on your photo skills... or is it she’s a suspect in a crime and her identity is secret? I hope for number two.” Giggling at such responses, I write back, “Yes, we shall make him a battle puppy. Send me some drawings with the supplies needed. Yes, she is a suspect. We keep her well hidden and with a generator blurring her face constantly.”, clicking send.
Tossing aside my leash to society, in this age a necessity, I decide to close my eyes and rest my weary head. Hoping for a mere moment of shut eye, I fell asleep. Next thing I know is May’s voice, “Hey man, wake up. It’s coffee time.” Groggily rubbing my eyes from under crooked glasses, poppn’ and lockn’ into some standing position, we head out.
Before this trip, I had my first day of counseling. Depression and mental disorders are considered the norm for my family background. It seemed only a matter of time until I’d be laying on that couch. And for the first visit she mainly asked personal questions, family history, how do you feel on a scale from one to five type stuff. Then she asked a humdinger , “How are you today?”
Fidgeting from side to side, “Not to well. Stuck on some thought.”, this couch makes my back sweat. “What’s that?”, she asked. I enjoyed her already, she does well asking questions and allows for my “verbal vomiting.” Which is directed her way, “Well it’s the cyclical human nature, the despair versus the joy. How when embraced they can create such passion like Kafka or Vonnegut, though, like most it has its negatives as well as positive. Kafka forced himself into such agony and Vonnegut gave into despair on the brink of the Iraq war.”
The same love of humanity and despair, I feel I share. I look at the world, from an Americans perspective. We have two wars, Libyan bombings and whatever other endeavors or investments seem to be occurring in the world. Civilian casualties left to simple mathematical faults. Yet I am no soldier one can argue. I have never nor shall I ever see war. I live a comfy suburean lifestyle. These luxuries I can’t nor shan’t refute.”
Those things just baffle me, even if it’s for some greater good to do such heinous and blasphemous actions... what is the cost? Not a cost to us, but to the future? What footprint is it we leave? I can lead and leave my own print, but it is at a mass, eras are judged in time frames.”
On a stronger note: If deeds with good intentions instill in themselves hardships for the right. What does one expect from justifying right through ‘ends justifying the means’ process.” She stops me there, “What do you mean? Elaborate.” I move back on the couch and lean my head to the side, “I call it my barrel theory.” She jots some stuff down, “Explain.”
I rattle my brain a moment, to line up the story necessary, to make my point, “Well, it takes a tale, a few years back. I was living in Colorado at the time, so seldom I would get word from back home. One story hit me deeply. While there I was dating a girl who was the poster gal of the ministry department. And she was being fired, supposedly for teaching social justice, leftist, liberal crap. In a place where, unluckily for her, the towns people made their living at the armory. With the wars going on, they prospered far more than the automotive capital in the country. I’m not saying that’s some proletariat versus the bourgeoisie, socialist agenda. It’s just the honest to god’s truth.
Doing what seemed best or seemed right at the time felt ridiculous (sometimes, my right isn’t the Right.) When it rains it pours, it’s darkest just before dawn, all those typical things. I digress, the church I worked at in Colorado had asked me to leave, mainly because I was confused. The youth leader taught Calvinist Tulip and pastor was Wesleyan. Two different doctrines. And I’m overly analytical, I don’t blame them. The situation left me more unsettled. Wondering if I can ever truly coexist anywhere.
Back to my friend, He and his amigos in excitement for his twenty two years of life were out partying. Because of work schedules they had to wait two extra days. A build up to make the party extra crazy. Sounded like a riot, they went to several bars through out the evening. They ended up at two different houses of friends for more good times, good food, and good drinks of course.
But, sadly, all grand times had to end, it was getting late. But in such a state though he didn’t realize the good twenty minutes from home he was. Thinking this was his neighborhood, he decided to walk. One can only imagine how far gone he was. So, twenty minutes away from home and two blocks in the wrong city. He figures, his ‘neighbors’ could help him out. Point him homeward bound. As luck would have it or coincidence, there is two sides of this story.
The man inside:
Someone was anxious all day awaiting his doom. He owed and he owed big. Sweaty palms, trying to go through the day, not to worry the wife. Buying groceries, each dime spent only leaves him cringing more and more.
'Tis tough keeping up a household these days. Money has to come from somewhere and he only a month ago hit pay dirt, the giving tree. Sadly, no one foresaw the future, loss of the stock market and failings world wide. ‘Too big to fail.’ they said. All of it gone and loans shall be repaid. Times get desperate. Desperate times call for desperate measures, they've also been known to say. The man inside was awaiting the loan shark, whom was out on the prowl. Looking to muss up all who had debts to pay. And the man inside trying to keep his house and home from the shambles the shark types reap. He waits, itchy finger on the barrel.
I heard, in a shark attack if you hit him on the nose, he’ll back off. Like training a dog, neither of these I’ve done.
These two mens stories now entangle:
Drunk guy eying down the barrel, he just so happened to ring at the wrong time. Looking for home while the man inside hoped in only to keep life together, hastily shoots the newcomer.
Dawn nowhere insight, though the physical sun rises. All good things come to an end, a screeching halt even.
Finding the barrel.
Eyeing you cross-eyed.
A staring contest.
The cyclonic human nature of some greater good. Coincidence, unlucky, sin, predestined, even innocent civilians in crossfire. Friendly fire. Doesn’t matter how it’s defined, the feeling lingers in such a great out reaching pain. Singing Dylan’s lyrics, ‘it’s a hard, it’s a hard rains a-gonna fall.’”
Friday, April 1, 2011
Life has been, new as of late and I cannot complain. Change is always tough to grasp at first and if I am honest, it's still settling in my bones. From time to time I crave what I once knew, but that is to be expected. It's only when I really let it sink in that I realize, I am only seeking comfort and how settled I felt. Which is good and great, but not always healthy. I hope we all have bright and better futures ahead of us. What else do I expect? Everyone I know is talented, they'll do just fine. I just hope I can do the same. And new experiences are great as well and I had two of those in one trip! The weekend was pretty fantastical... I just won't share it here. Because I don't feel like typing it all out. Just because I'm awesome. Enjoy the photos that go along with this, actual journal update here on this very site that you are on... ha.
I have decided to start going to a counselor, I figured it's about time anyhow. The best comment I heard about it was, "I suppose it's best you work it out now, so you don't have to deal with it once you're older." That's a great point. I'm down with counseling. So we shall see how it goes, still nervous about it all. I felt weird answering certain questions like, from one to five how depressed do you get. Which is a point system based on just how bad it can be... to me is like comparing it to other people in what is a norm of depression? I'm not sure I'd be there if I knew what normal was, I mean I feel that I'm normal but that is only because I don't know what it's like to be anybody else. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be me.
I read today that Vonnegut said, If it's clear when you are writing, your mind most likely doesn't work the way you think it does.
This is one of the few times I write and don't, edit, edit, edit... mumble to myself what I wrote... edit, edit.. throw away and start it all over again. I feel as though writing is one of the few things I'm really good at. I can play music, make jokes, shoot movies, act... but writing is what I really enjoy doing. Only because I can see progress in it and well, I enjoy sharing. There is nothing like taking an adventure and creating a story based on reality and fiction. It feels good, spiritual even. To take people you know and situations, analyze them to make sense in some fantasy realm. Everything seems more real to me while I perform a delicate operation, cutting life open and carefully extracting what I want. Then in a Frankenstein manner, I create a new living breathing creature, one of my creation and perception. A monster of what it is I see in my daily life. How I see me and everyone else, both a gift and curse. Just as anything in life can be.
Also, the pictures don't really go with what I'm writing... I just like to look at them. (Borrowing a few from Mon-mon.)
Well, I don't know what else I can really update here... I never really keep a steady journal in the sense of laying myself out there. Normally it's in prose, story form or random nonsense... so I have no real layout and I love me some structure! My own structure, but structure none the less.I am excited for whatever is to come and I love the people I know. Though, I do expect everyone to leave me constantly, I never really want to allow myself to believe it. Each time I say I know no one will leave or get annoyed with me, it seems to happen. I'm not sure how else to look at life, perhaps it's my despair and self-conscious behavior that makes me so cynical. I wish to change that, hopefully with writing and counseling I can find a good medium of focusing my cynicism into writing, keeping people involved in my world. Being heard finally like Holden Caufield. Making sure the reader doesn't leave thinking they wasted a moment of time, I apologize if you feel you wasted time reading this. ahaha I'm not gonna read over this nor edit it. If I do that it wouldn't be a free flowing journal entry as I wished it to be. I will end on a picture of myself! So, until we talk one on one again, latez.
p.s. If anyone reads this that knows me or just knows of me through reading, what was your first perception of me? First thoughts during our first meeting.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
As I have come to slowly realize, that once I have lost what I hold dear, literally everything, I have gained eternity. A sort of infinity so to speak. With that in mind, I started my Night, and as Night persists, while life carries on I shall forever delve into insanity a little bit more. From what I have experienced this eve and now dawn is upon my unrested body. I think of a joke first thing, if there is no rest for the wicked, then I am Voldemort. I giggle to myself. Straight away my mind turns to a serious note, I feel neither life nor death shall bring me closer to truth. So do not disturb these bones, please. Perhaps that's what should be on my tombstone.
Maybe death and life are nothing more then perceptions amongst a world powered by nature and nature is quite far from our human logic. Don't get me wrong, I am not against it nor chaos, these Nights are made for chaos and insanity. In a way the only branch I have left to feeling, for pleasure, to any spiritual existence I once held dear. I grow tired of the Saviour, I don't want to be saved, no, I just wanna be free. The two are separable and if it is all perception, what am I being saved from? my own self? I dig me.
Now my morning begins, warm cup of joe and a fag in my mouth. Stepping outside in my pea-coat, I allow the dew to settle on me before I begin any hasty movements. Taking a seat as if I am forming a piece of the stone that rests under my ass, my body never truly settles. I decide it is time to light up, each movement feels quite cool and crisp. I can't feel the strains I endured from the Night before. As I stare at the dew I think of all the girls I once loved, Green comes to mind, if people are like rain, I would be drizzle and they would be hurricanes. I mean, that's what seems so exotic about it. The flare, mystery, an unknown element that grasps the attention of any onlooker or passerby. The sought adventure, what's more interesting then something beyond understanding? All this whilst the blinders slowly crack open, freeing the once sheltered eyes. Seeing a sun anew, as if stars never existed. All additives to the Night, an extension of the existentialists existence.
My coffee's bloody cold... my square isn't quite finished. I wonder if anyone is up quite yet. I shan't wake them. Can't believe it's 7 in the morn, my obscenely tired body hit the mattress only 2 hours ago. And already my blood is pumping, heart is racing, my leg is hopping at a considerable rate. That's good I suppose, means this body hasn't objected to the Night I have grown into.
Lost in thought as always, I was startled by a loud bang behind me. To my surprise it was May, I quite fancied her. She was a great girl, but a hurricane. She sat right next to me, without question took a smoke and a sip of cold brewed coffee I had. Standing May briskly went inside and freshened it up handing it to me, "Here man, no use having a chilled cup of coffee on such a chilly morning."
"Thanks, amiga. Everyone still sleepn'?"
"umm..." she says while looking back at the door, "not sure, I was hoping the bang of that door would wake their asses up." she started to light her cigarette. I don't know what it is but, watching her smoke makes me want to smoke. It looks like it's her first one every time. Also, watching her smoke is of interest to me, no idea why, just is. I looked over at her smirking, "It's about damn time," I respond as I pull out another stick from the pack, "I'm hungry, May." I liked to say her name, there was something eloquent about it, a name with class.
"Ya man, how did you sleep last night?" I had been awaiting that question, so I can make room for my joke. So I got ready to re-quip, "Well if rest is truly for the wicked, then I my friend, am Voldemort." from behind us a gasp came, we both had turned, Mika was in the doorway, "He-who-should-not-be-named! my gawd..." as she laughed. We all began to chuckle. "Let me grab my jacket." she continued.
"Did you sleep well, man?" she moved her neck around, "Not quite well as I had hoped, just a bit stiff." she took a drag, "Getting better with every puff though." Which made me smirk. Mika had made her way outside, "mind if I have one of those?"
"Not at all." may and I stated in unison. Quickly and hastily I follwed it up with, "Jinx! You owe me a coke."
"DAMMIT!" she exclaimed. Mika was laughing as she tried to light up, having a deal of trouble as it was jumping around due her laughter. "Dude, I didn't even notice you open the door." I mentioned. She finally got her cig lit, "that's right bitches, ninja skills."
May snickered and slyly rebuked, "Ya, something like that, ya creeper." Mika frowned, trying to keep her reaction serious, "You don't mean that."
"aww... let me hugs you!" may flung her arms open, "No way, fuck you man!" exasperated Mika. Pushing the embrace away with one arm until finally a loving bear hug occurred. Events like this happened frequently between them, but always for a good laugh. They were adorable.
As only an onlooker, I commentated, "isn't that just the cutest damned thing I ever did see." Taking a sip of my coffee, adding a southern twang, "Good Golly Gee Wilikers."
"Shut up, you know you love it." Mika exclaimed as they both swung down to share the love my way. Making sure I don't spill my coffee or burn anyone with my smoke, entrapped on both sides, "Oh yes, how would I survive without this affection? I'd die I say, I'd die."
May started to stand, "I'm gonna go get ready. Then wake up Diana." I finish puffing on my fag, "Go for it, ma'am."
Mika hands her cigarette over, "Could you hold this, I need to use the restroom." I grab it, "Thanks, man." They both head inside, I make note that her smoke is in my right hand, while my smoke is in the left. Not that it really matters anyhow. Share and share alike I say. My mind wanders back to the dew upon the grass, thinking about how I am the only male here. I don't mind it in the least, most the time I appreciate it. Though they're hurricanes, the exception is Mika, who is more like myself. In the areas of love, her and I have a certain connection of understanding. I mean, still have similarity to May and Diana, just in different areas...
Damn, my butt is freezing cold. So I stood up and leaned my back against the house. It's also getting quite bright outside, I exchange my thick rimmed glasses with similar sunglasses. I feel like Dylan. On that note, I take a long methodical drag staring into the sunlight. Today is not where I saw myself a year ago, but I don't know where else I wish to be. Anyhow as Douglas said, "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."
Mika sauntered back out leaning across from me, I relight her square, it had gone out. "Thanks darlin'.", she was putting her sunglasses on. She was a ravishing gal, so caring and loving. I just absolutely love her mussed up hair, it's amazing. I wish I had it, but couldn't pull it off nearly as well."No worries, ma'am. Now, how did you sleep?"
In the sunlight, the peace before she answered, I wonder, how did I get so luck? Surrounded by beautiful people both inside and out. I question this oft. Moving her back about, "Hmm, I had a good night. I never really sleep."
"So, you feeln' alright?", bending over, putting out my fag in the dirt.
Laughingly responds, "Tired.", blowing out smoke over her shoulder. She looked at the bright red glow ashing the cig. She seemed a tad distracted. Out of curiosity I ask, "What happens to be passing through those thoughts of yours?"
Pulling her gaze up towards me, crushing the glowing ember, "Huh? oh, nothin'. Let's get to the coffee shoppe." Pondering if that's the truth or not, I look down at my cold mug, "Ya, lez go.", meandering back inside. Starting to yell on entering, "Diana! Diana! Diana! Wake up!" Her small voice echos back, "I'm up already." So I take a seat on the couch and switch glasses again.
Mika heads back to the other end of the house, assuming to pack up.
May is sitting on the kitchen counter, I can see half of her from the door way. Most likely on her phone catching up on conversations.
Diana was getting ready to leave.
Which reminds me, I haven't checked my phone since I went outside. I don't expect to have anything new. The main posse is here already, oh, it was in between the couch cushions. Surprisingly I have new messages, both from the same person. Forgetting the fact I have been documenting my Night by sending pictures with commentary to a friend far away. Just so they feel more in touch with life here. To him, at times, this is a whole new reality. It could be, considering my brighter times prior in life. His messages read, "OH! New people I don't know and a dog, can we turn that dog a battle puppy?" and "Her face is very blurry, you should work on your photo skills... or is is she a suspect in a crime and her identity is secret? I hope for number 2." Chuckling at such responses. I write back, "Yes, we shall make him a battle puppy. Send me some drawings with the supplies needed. Yes, she is a suspect. We keep her well hidden and with a generator blurring her face constantly.", clicking send.
Tossing my leash to society aside, I decide to close my eyes and rest for a moment. Leaning my head back, only hoping for a moment of shut eye. I fell asleep. Next thing I knew was Mays voice, "Hey man, wake up. Coffee time." Groggily rubbing my eyes under crooked glasses, enforcing my weight into a standing position. We head out.
You said, "Damn be this wind is still movin' on in to the bones and the bed of my soul."
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The bluebird can sing, but I no longer hear it in my chest. The ole crow's soul is pouring through and I'm no fish that can climb trees. Just swimming on along down the stream.
These responses grow sluggish, the time goes faster to talk myself out of my own home, the hope for tomorrow grows dim and I just wonder, what happened to all that hope I once had?
Friday, March 4, 2011
Character walks in the house, hair wet and you can see rain outside. Girl is sitting playing playstation. Without looking back, "hey, what's going on?"
"Jesse Eisenberg, James Franc, Adam Brody, Simon Pegg, Joseph Gordon-Levitt,Jay Baruchel, Jason Schwartzman, Zachary Quinto, and last but not least Michael Cera! That's my problem."
"Why?", you can see metal gear solid on in the background. Next to the tv is a dreamcast with a hello kitty island adventure video game poster.
"They create lies! Nerds are sexy my skinny, spider-man undied, odd-scar-form lightsaber-dueling, pale white ass..."
"hmm... maybe you shouldn't start the conversation off with, "Hello my name is Kris, I spent the morning playing hello kitty on my dreamcast because I have an NES emulator. I did this after learning the battle music for final fantasy VII on my guitar and trading pokemon with my female roommate, who was still in her world of warcraft attire."
Idea 2 - I'm worried about you... hipstervention
"Kris, I'm worried about you... I found this in your bag."
"Those american spirits are someone else's. I'm holding it for a friend, ya! A friend!"
"and the PBR under your bed, the beard under that hanker-chief, all those plaid button up shirts, the hoodies, tight jeans and converse in the back of your closet?"
crying, "I just like it, okay!?"
"Also, I found a copy of the hangover."
crying sobs, "I have a problem!"
"That's the first step. Here, put on this star wars t-shirt... it'll help."
Idea 3 - Hipstervention pt. II
sittn' on the couch, kris drinking PBR, playing video games... wearing everything described from last week except buddy holly type glasses on with on the road sittn' next to him.
The girl walks by... starring down.
Then says, "so, we're stickn' to you wearing that?"
"ya, this could be a poor decision."
"Enjoy it, I'm not drawing this anymore."
"So, you don't care about our intervention?"
"Don't tread on me, man."
"That's original. did you get that off a peace-tea can?"
"no..." while kicking the peace-tea can out of frame.
Idea 4 - Han or Qreedo
"Greedo shot first! It's so obvious! There was a burning hole next to Han's head at the table!"
"pfft... doesn't mean he fired first!"
new character comes in, "guys... guys.. who cares?"
lasers are pulled out, guy is terrified...
"If it's life or death you'll care.." they shoot*.
a black frame that says, Later on!
"What do you mean you shot first!?"
"I SO SHOT FIRST!"
Under the comic reads:
*This scene can be changed or edited however the creators wish. We can computer enhance a unicorn in to shoot a laser, if we so like... deal with it! Do I get millions of dollars now?
Idea 5 - The Falling
"I can't believe you've never seen Lord of the rings before, what do you think so far?"
"I think... over half of this film is falling down."
"ya, Frodo isn't good at anything besides falling over. Him and the ground have a relationship going on."
A frame of frodo falling down talking to the ground, "one day, we'll be together."
the ground responds, "Whenever you ditch Sam."
Idea 6 - The force isn't always the answer...
"What do you think happened to the people in the galactic empire after darth vader and the emperor fell? How do you think they blended in to the general public?"
"I don't know... the force?"
"The force isn't always the answer."
tries Jedi mind trick, "The force is always the answer..."
She looks annoyed.
Idea 7 - Sin of LUST
"Did you guys watch the Oscars?" random person
"of course." lady
"we had to turn it off though." guy
"Me too, it wasn't very good." random person
"wait, it was great!" guy
"then, why'd you turn it off?" random person
"James Franco in a dress... the lust was too strong, we had to tear ourselves away before we committed a sin of epic proportions." lady
"Ya, it was hot." guy
"not sure why I visit you anymore..." random person.
Idea 8 - Natalie
the room is dark and the girl pops her head in, kris is hidden in his bed covers.
"Kris, you ok?"
"He'll never love her like I could.."
"aw, I'm sorry... who?"
"A ballet dancer. He'll never lover her like me."a
"wait, natalie portman?"
"ya.. that bastard.."
"The pain will subside soon."
Idea 9 - Religious holidays
walks into the house, Kris decorated it all in green.. the walls are now green.
"What the hell? I didn't know you were Irish."
"I'm not, my beard is... see, it's red."
"I don't really get st. patties day. What are we celebrating?"
"It's a religious holiday.. Saint Patrick and the spreading of the gospel across Ireland. The shamrock represents the holy trinity."
"oh, but were not religious."
"No, but with enough green beer I will be!"
"I'm sure that's what they had in mind."
Idea 10 - Reasons to be a rock star
(Reasons to be a rock star pt. I)
"Goodnight, my living room!" sliding on his knees towards the kitty on the couch, with a mighty axe of a guitar.
Just a kitty is watching, "Boo! Go to someone else's living room!"
Reason 1: I don't ever have to tune my guitars... the b string is such a bitch!" Shows the guitar string breaking and hitting my eye. "My eye!"
Reason 2: I have great stage presence. "No I disagree red hair girl, we aren't the worst band ever."
Reason 3: I've seen spinal tap like 100 times! "Just, turn it up to eleven! That's what they want." (you can't tell, but he's using a horrible British accent.) He's dressed up in really tight clothes like in the movie on stage. Everyone is booing.
Idea 11 - Reasons to not be a rock star
(Reasons I can't be a rock star pt. I)
"What do you mean wearing a cape on synth isn't cool?"
Reason 1: I am easily distracted. "Hey guys! I never knew we had merch!" "How'd he get back there?"
Reason 2: I get nervous and shy when a girl hits on me. (A girl is whispering in his ear) "Wait! You wanna do what!? uhh... I forgot my M&M's in the back.." "I just said he should get pizza with us..." her friend, "weirdo."
Reason 3: Finally learning an instrument would be a good start. "This is a G chord." (getting guitar lessons, from a hippie with crazy beard.) "Wait, you mean this takes both talent and hard work? Two things I don't have. Good day!"
Idea 12 - Ihop
A shot of Ihop from the outside, "I'll have... coffee and strawberry pancakes." first bubble.
"I'll have, coffee and the waffles with chicken. Warm syrup with it as well"
"Chickens and waffles, that's sounds gross and horrible for you."
"I have a brilliant idea!"
Showing a diagram of his idea... a chicken, bacon, warm syrup, ranch, waffle sandwich.
"more disgusting/horrible for the body than I thought..."
"I believe nothing this delicious could ever be bad for you."
"I feel that's minus 10 years from your life expectancy."
Idea 13 - Your Life
"Aww dude, my life.com I wonder if anyone is lookn' for me."
"That stuff is rubbish!"
"dang man! 20 people are looking for me."
"NO WAY! I'm gonna try.", his face turns somber.
"it deleted my account... they sent me an e-mail. Your account was deleted and removed from archives because, no one is or is willing to ever look for you. The ironic part is, enough people looked for you to warn us to keep you from our site.. so no one will ever look for you in the positive sense. signed, Mylife.com staff p.s. don't e-mail us back."
"now that's a burn."
Idea 14 - Military man!
Reasons I couldn't be in the military... I could be a Jedi though.
"I don't take kindly to being yelled at, by kindly... I cry."
"MAKE YOUR BED WITH 90 DEGREE FOLDS!"
"I.. *gasp* tried... pops." tears and sobs, bed made at 45 degrees.
I also don't like guns.
"Good work son... are you throwing rocks? Use your gun!"
"I'd rather not, don't you know I can shoot my eye out? or die... can I have a laser?"
After this, I get yelled at and well, cry again.
Then there is all that hard work and training. In which I just find ways to delegate. Typically, I would assume this ending badly.
"I'll trade you... all of my running and I'll take care of the hours of sleep you get at night. That's a good trade."
"I'm glad I haven't been given my gun yet..."
"why? Wouldn't lightsabers and lasers be way cooler!?"
Idea - 15 Dumb things I've done on dates: Movie theater edition!
Remember, when going out with a friend and twins... keep in mind which one you were sitting by.
*YAWN!* arm goes over the girls, "Wrong sister Fabio..." guys look at each other, "damn" "Damn, damn."
When buying treats, offer the girl some.
sitting down with a plethora of food. looks over, "Did you want some?"
"I thought we were sharing."
"We are on such a different realm here..."
Most of all, never bring a girl to a film who will talk through it... you'll end the night early.
"oh no, what's going to happen to her? What's that? What do you think is gonna happen? Pass the popcorn?"
"We're over... I'm moving seats."
"UGH! That's why!"
Idea 16 - My dream girl, literally.
''I have this dream, not like a martin luther king dream, but a dream to aspire too... like, a girl climbing through my window to romatisize me." other character,"I don't think things work out like that." me agian, "no, most likely it won't even be a burglar... just my guy friends sneaking in my bed naked. to be annoying."
Idea 17 - Best Trilogy
"ok, the tally is... 3 lord of the rings and 3 star wars... who didn't vote? Kris?"
"Ya, I decided to vote abstain. I don't like either side of this, so I put in a blank vote."
"oh... then what do you think the best trilogy would be?"
"The bourne series, of course.
Idea 18 - Calms my stomach
3 people walking down the street.
"Man, my stomach is upset... give me a peppermint." gets handed a peppermint
"Know what's odd, the smell of the woodshop, calms my stomach. It's delightful."
"Ya, the smell of fresh wood is quite calming."
The third person snickers, "ahaha fresh wood, you would like that."
"Very mature of you..."
"Thank you kindly."
Idea 19 - no rest for the wicked
"Dang, you look beat tired... how have you been resting?"
"Well, based on the amount I've gotten and if there is actually no rest for the wicked. I'm Voldemort."
"He-who-must-not-be-named!? Damn, that's off the charts wicked! AVADA KEDAVRA!" Pulls out a wand.
"wow... that's mighty cool you have a wand..."
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
On Jane Austen's death bed her sister Cassandra asked if she needed anything, Austen replied, ''I want nothing but death."
"Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies.", Voltaire as he was asked to renounce satan.
"I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have.", Leonardo da Vinci. This one always gets me...
Hunter S. Thompson, "Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives... and to the ‘good life,’ whatever it is and wherever it happens to be."
All the world's a stage,and all the men and women merely players:they have their exits and their entrances;and one man in his time plays many parts..." Shakespeare
There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water?", David Foster Wallace
"You know that song 'If a body catch a body comin' through the rye'?
I'd like — ""It's 'If a body meet a body coming through the rye'!" old Phoebe said.
"It's a poem. By Robert Burns.""I know it's a poem by Robert Burns.
"She was right, though. It is "If a body meet a body coming through the rye." I didn't know it then, though."I thought it was 'If a body catch a body,'" I said "Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy." - From Catcher in the Rye
"I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temperary; the evil it does is permanent.", Gandhi
“Never cease loving a person, and never give up hope for him, for even the prodigal son who had fallen most low, could still be saved; the bitterest enemy and also he who was your friend could again be your friend; love that has grown cold can kindle” Kierkegaard
"The relativism which is not willing to speak about truth but only about ‘what is true for me’ is an evasion of the serious business of living. It is the mark of a tragic loss of nerve in our contemporary culture. It is a preliminary symptom of death." — Lesslie Newbigin
"the Christian story provides us with a set of lenses, not something for us to look at but to look throuugh." Newbigin
Friends applaud, the comedy is finished.~~ Ludwig van Beethoven before he died.
"I have just had eighteen whiskeys in a row. I do believe that is a record.", Dylan Thomas just before he died.
We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being. As a result, men are valued not for what they are but for what they do or what they have - for their usefulness. Thomas Merton
"All emotions, and that one[love] particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position.", Watson "the sign of four" his thoughts on Holmes.
"Governments show thus how successfully men can be imposed on, even impose on themselves, for their own advantage.", Thoreau
"If God's on our side he'll stop the next war..." Dylan
"A day without laughter is a day wasted."
In matters of conscience, the law of the majority has no place. Mohandas Gandhi
We are not at peace with others because we are not at peace with ourselves, and we are not at peace with ourselves because we are not at peace with God. Thomas Merton
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.", Jesus
"Since love grows within you, so beauty grows. For love is the beauty of the soul. ", St. Augustine
"The oppressed are freed from being oppressed and the oppressors are freed from being oppressors.", Tutu
We cannot fully recover until we help the society that made us sick recover."
"When the seagulls follow the trawler, it's because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea.", Cantona
"Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici", some German fellow.
"I accept Chaos, I don't know wether or not chaos accepts me.", Dylan
"Do not act as if you were going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over you. While you live, while it is in your power, be good.", Marcus Aurelius
"He is best of all who himself conceiveth all things; Good again is he too who can adopt a good suggestion; But whoso neither of himself conceiveth nor hearing from another Layeth it to heart; - he is a useless man.", Aristotle
"No fear, no distractions, the ability to let that which does not matter, truly slide.", Tyler Durden.
I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temperary; the evil it does is permanent.", Ghandi
"NEW YORK TIMES! NEW YORK TIMES! Think your better than us, us, US!? U.S, U.S.A, NO WAY! The end.", McGiurk
"Well you never know.", Dylan.
"Soccer isn't about life or death, it's more important than that."
"Not all who are wander are lost.", Tolkien.
"Tell me, I'll go along with you if I can or I'll find somebody to go along with you."
"I'm really, you have no idea of why you are popular or as to how you are popular."
"It's just that I haven't really struggled for that, I don't uh.. it happened, ya know? It happened like anything else happens. Just a happening. You don't try to figure out happenings. You dig happenings, so I'm not even going to talk about it."
"Be content with what you are, and wish not changer; nor dread your last day. Nor long for it.", Marcus Aurelius
We can tell the world of life after death but what the world seems to be wonder about is life before death."
"There is enough for everyone's need but not enough for everyone's greed.", Ghandi
"There is an Eastern fable, told long ago, of a traveller overtaken on a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from the beast he gets into a dry well, but sees at the bottom of the well a dragon that has opened its jaws to swallow him. And the unfortunate man, not daring to climb out lest he should be destroyed by the enraged beast, and not daring to leap to the bottom of the well lest he should be eaten by the dragon, seizes s twig growing in a crack in the well and clings to it. His hands are growing weaker and he feels he will soon have to resign himself to the destruction that awaits him above or below, but still he clings on. Then he sees that two mice, a black one and a white one, go regularly round and round the stem of the twig to which he is clinging and gnaw at it. And soon the twig itself will snap and he will fall into the dragon's jaws. The traveller sees this and knows that he will inevitably perish; but while still hanging he looks around, sees some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig, reaches them with his tongue and licks them. So I too clung to the twig of life, knowing that the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting me, ready to tear me to pieces; and I could not understand why I had fallen into such torment. I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me, but the honey no longer gave me pleasure, and the white and black mice of day and night gnawed at the branch by which I hung. I saw the dragon clearly and the honey no longer tasted sweet. I only saw the unescapable dragon and the mice, and I could not tear my gaze from them. and this is not a fable but the real unanswerable truth intelligible to all.
The deception of the joys of life which formerly allayed my terror of the dragon now no longer deceived me. No matter how often I may be told, "You cannot understand the meaning of life so do not think about it, but live," I can no longer do it: I have already done it too long. I cannot now help seeing day and night going round and bringing me to death. That is all I see, for that alone is true. All else is false.
The two drops of honey which diverted my eyes from the cruel truth longer than the rest: my love of family, and of writing--art as I called it--were no longer sweet to me.", Tolstoy - Confessions
"All the world's a stage,and all the men and women merely players:they have their exits and their entrances;and one man in his time plays many parts..." Shakespeare
"If you're going to be crazy, you have to get paid for it or else you're going to be locked up."
— Hunter S. Thompson
If you have wisdom, offer it. If you do not or it is not the right time nor place, offer tea and your company instead.
They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" -Kerouac, on the road
I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion. -Kerouac, on the road
"Saying 'I notice you're a nerd' is like saying, 'Hey, I notice that you'd rather be intelligent than be stupid, that you'd rather be thoughtful than be vapid, that you believe that there are things that matter more than the arrest record of Lindsay Lohan. Why is that?' In fact, it seems to me that most contemporary insults are pretty lame. Even 'lame' is kind of lame. Saying 'You're lame' is like saying 'You walk with a limp.' Yeah, whatever, so does 50 Cent, and he's done all right for himself."
— John Green
"All I can do is be me, whoever that is.", Dylan
"Before God I am equally wise as I am equally foolish.", an altered Einstein quote.
"When did we see each other face-to-face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. Before that, we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out." — John Green
"Youth is counted sweetest by those who are no longer young. Nostalgia is inevitably a yearning for a past that never existed.", Green
“Freethinkers are those who are willing to use their minds without prejudice and without fearing to understand things that clash with their own customs, privileges, or beliefs. This state of mind is not common, but it is essential for right thinking; where it is absent, discussion is apt to become worse than useless.'”, Leo Tolstoy
Fry, "You could've picked a better time to dump the ship, Bender"
Bender, "The moment seemed right. Call me old fashioned, but I like a dump to be as memorable as it is devastating."
Gonna try and remember this one daily.
“Don’t be afraid to be a fool. Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying yes begins things. Saying yes is how things grow. Saying yes leads to knowledge. “Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say yes.”
— Stephen Colbert
"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." Douglas Adams
That's all I got.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Lucas, "Hey, whatcha... doin'?"
"Pounding it!" While cracking open another can, this time coca-cola.
"ya, I can see..." chugging noises ensue "That's disgusting. Anyhow, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm on a soda binge." goes back to Lucas starring at his friend. Camera goes back and forth between the two. his friend slowly opens another can of soda next to him.
"You are a horrible human-being. Why are you opening two?"
"Why!? and this one's prepped for a double chugger." he starts to drink the one in his hand.
"things like that, every statement you've made thus far is detrimental to the entirety of my being. Hence you are a horrible person."
"I'm not following you..." throws the one to the ground and picks up the other can.
"ya, please don't." Faint sounds of chugging come from the room. The door can't close from the cans stuck between, Lucas tries slamming it but the handle comes off.
Lucas exits the room and goes across the hall.
Lucas enters the other room, throws the broken handle in the trash, where a girl is reciting the Om and meditating.
"Hey Em, what's happening?" he sits down in a bean bag chair and lays back. The room's silent... for a while. The shot just sits in the corner with both people sitting across from each other. He looks at her for a while then lays down straight backwards. She finally puts her hands down, breathes in deep and breathes out, her eyes open. "Oh, hey man. I didn't know you came in."
Lucas sits up, "Damn, really? I had no idea that was so deep."
"Ya, I kind of loose track of time and what's going on around me. That's the point though, so I'm doing well. Did you talk to Core?"
"Ya, we was 'pounding it' and 'soda binging' as he put it."
"What a house hold."
"You're telling me. So, what's happening? Typically you've had a rough day when you're in such a deep meditation."
"ha. Ya, know that guy I was hanging out with?"
"You know, the one you made fun of."
"OH! The fling thing guy."
"Har-har. We had a chat today about everything, it didn't go so well."
"ya? Run me through it."
"Why do you ask such things?"
"I don't know, I'm genuinely curious... just shoot."
"Alright, let's make some tea and go over it." They get up and move to the kitchen. Shots kind of follow them there. She grabs a bunch of stuff and starts brewing some tea up. Lucas sits down on the counter-top. Core walks through the kitchen real fast while putting on a jacket.
"I'm all out of my vices, need to run to the store, be back later. Bai." He's out the door already.
"Can we change the locks?"
"We need the rent money and he's an alright guy. You're both annoying anyways."
"I am not that annoying."
"No you can be more."
"Lies! Give me one time."
"Okay, I'll give you three times..."
"Don't interrupt me. Number 1, it was 6 in the morning and you just made out with some girl. So you decided instead, to stay with her in your room that you'd come over to mind and tell me about it... through a loud speaker. Because you thought it was funny since that girl was my friend and I said you had no chance. I ended up winning because you ruined it for yourself. Number 2, all those pranks you pull on Core. I have to hear about him bitch. So when you locked up the cereal cabinet... or made him put orange juice in his cereal... or bolted down all of his stuff... rented his room out to a heavy metal band... and the time you sent him to the one place he never wanted to go. Ya, all me that has to deal with it."
Lucas laughing hysterically, "You laughed at all that!"
"Not all of it, not the loud speaker thing and that I can't have Ginna over anymore. Also, those jokes were funny the FIRST time. The jokes continue, I've had to hear about the same things for 8 months. Number 3, your coffee, booze and cheesy bean and rice burrito binge? Just last week, that was awful."
"Ok, it's not the same and Ginna can come over."
"It's not an issue of can or cannot. It's an issue of you."
"Alright, alright... you deal with more than I do. Now let's talk about this guy."
"As I sat on the park bench in my Chuck Taylors and Buddy Holly glasses, cup of coffee in one hand, cigarette hanging from my mouth and a battered copy of "On the Road" on my knees, I felt I was trying way too hard.", unknown. I found this on the internet today through stumble. I laughed very hard.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
She turns around, not angry but comfortable and retorts with a story, "There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says 'morning, boys. How's the water?' and the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes 'what the hell is water?'" (I later found this was from a commencement speech by David Foster Wallace.)
She continues before I can interrupt, in which I do often. So I understand her forcefulness, "A man gave this speech for college grads and kind of emphasized what it is we should focus on. You are no old fish to tell the world that water or air exists, neither am I, but what it is, is we are the young fish who do not even realize we are in water. Not getting that the water is stabilizing or that is where you've been the whole time. Which inevitably leads you to forget that outside the water is another reality because you miss THIS reality right now. This you and me and everyone we know reality. You can pick every friend or relative and how things happen in life, but happenings still happen. You can't fix everything or intellectually decide all details. Sherlock Holmes you aren't. So deal with the fact your reality right now is, your friends are who they are. So stop distracting yourself from today and where we are. Get out of your own head once and a while." She pauses for a second, and swallows trying not to cry. She picks back up again. She's right though, if it was a lie I would be outraged and stop this ''massacre.'' She speaks the Gospel, all true. It stings, but hell... she's so right, she can't be more correct.
"I dig you, I really do. You quote Dylan with his happenings but you don't go with it as you talk about. You dig experience and you discuss tradition but you stray away from both, tearing either apart because... I get it, I know you're smart. No one is questioning this. Let those combine, experience traditions and happenings. Even do so reasonably, but don't reason yourself out of them entirely. I know I'm not the best at this, but we can better ourselves at it daily, are not even the birds in the sky taken care of? Why worry about tomorrow?" I lift my head and smirk... all I can do is meander closer to her to put my hand on the back of Diana's head to pull her close to my lips. So I may kiss her gently on her forehead. All I wish to do is hug her, just stand there and hug. For I have no more words. In that moment all I wish to say is to signify I get it. I struggle to find the words, the right words in the moment. I decide to just flow, because I'm over thinking... I uttered simply, ''This is right, this moment feels proper." As tear drops roll down our cheeks we smile while in this compassionate embrace. Tomorrow is tomorrow and an hour is an hour, but right now is perfect.
Friday, February 18, 2011
One time when I was young, my dad and I went for a bike ride through perry farm. A state park like piece of land, in which is set aside to never have any parking lots or mcdonalds built on the land. Set aside so we feel good for future generations to have trees, water, soil and hiking lands to enjoy. Instead of cement wastelands and parking garages. This day was a tad cold, but I didn't notice. When you're a kid cold doesn't really bother you as much as when you are older.
Perhaps it's just the sheer excitement of something new and everything is fun as a kid. Now there is more sadness or as if the world owes us something, so at least the weather should be the way we want it. We loose contact with nature, "We often forget that WE ARE NATURE. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature. We’ve lost our connection to ourselves." I read that the other day.
I was thinking of this story because I decided since it's nice and I've been inside a lot, I should go outside for the fresh air. So I decided to grab the old camera and see if I had any skills left in me to take some photos. Mostly to see if I still had an eye for good shots for cinematography. I think I did pretty good, so I'm gonna give some visuals of the place it was I went as a kid for such a story. I digress, I've been rambling. Only because the story is quite short.
My father and I used to ride bikes a lot when I was a kid and many a times something happened. This one time, we were riding and his breaks seemed to just stop working. So behind me, I'm about 5 at the time, he just rams right into the back of me. I go flying, scraped knees and all, him still on his bike and my in tatters. If I remember right, I know I walked home. I was in pain and crying. Another time we went riding, I got to this huge hill and well. I couldn't stop, I was to scared since I was going too fast. So I just went off the trail into some shrubbery.I wasn't crying and walking home that day, I just laughed nervously... that became more of a trait. It's not really flight or fight with me, it's more make jokes or laugh while making jokes. If there is a dire need, I'll figure something out.
This time we went for a ride, we went to perry farm, side-note; that is where I went down a hill way to fast. In which, that hill doesn't look as daunting as it used to be. It's a joke now, unless on roller-blades. Not because it's steep, just because there are crevasses in the ground for roller-blades. In which, that's another story of my friend and I... I get off topic far to easily.
So we were riding around the park, getting off of our bikes to take side trails and look around. My father making jokes and talking to me about the area and how nice it is outside. Me just excited to be outside with my pops was enough. I think we road from a park not to far away, a lot of the state park type places kind of meet up together in our area. So we did a lot, a lot to a kid, biking that day. So I was all tuckered out by the time we go to park finally.
We went back to where they have these indian caves. Which is still one of my favorite places to go, in the back there is this place where in the summer. It is always cool and nice, a place to think and catch the slight breeze coming from the stream below. Then the water fall that isn't to far in front of you.
It's far enough back that no one can see you, but in the right position to where you can watch other people crossing this bridge. I caught a lesbian couple making out there one time. I wasn't sure what to do. So I gasp and kept moving, give me a break I was like 15 years old. I didn't know what a proper reaction was. I don't think there is a proper reaction to catching anyone making out.
Once we got to the indian caves we decided to take a little walk around. Maybe traverse and climb a bit. A fantastic idea! My dad helped me a lot. At one point he was ahead of me and I was stuck... we were in between two rock faces in on the sides. In between the two sides was the stream.Partially frozen over, but not in every places. The water rushing underneath was enough to break up a lot of the ice. It was really hard to tell where to step was ok or not, the rule of thumb was don't try to step on the ice.
but... I was stuck and I wanted to prove that I could do this on my own. I think I was about 7 years old. So I decided, I'll risk it... I got this, I know what I'm doing. I road my bike all that way! I got this and... no I didn't. I fell straight through and the water went over my head. Next thing I knew my dad had me under the armpits and pulled me out. I was soaking wet and freezing cold. He couldn't carry me out of where we were. So we had to climb out as soon as we could, it was unbearable. I was shivering and scared. My dad was just looking back at me constantly. I bet sort of annoyed by the fact that I didn't just wait and ask him for help. Which, I don't think now that he thought that. But he didn't get it, it was my chance to do it on my own and I failed, miserably.
I ended up slipping a few times, my little muscles couldn't really pull me well enough. I was just so damned cold. We finally got out and he carried me to our bikes. In which, we road out.. the whole time I didn't think I could make it and my dad would look over saying, ''don't worry buddy, you can make it. not too much further.'' Saying here and there, ''you know you shouldn't of tried that, you could of waited.'' just being a good dad to help me out. Help me remember for next time, oh... I will remember that. I still triple check ice before I cross over it. Even puddles.
I was just complaining the whole time, crying but no tears really came. I was to cold and good thing I didn't cry, the tears would of added to how freezing cold my face was. My teenage mutant ninja turtle jacket soaking wet, what was I to do? I love(d) that jacket. We road the whole way until the close parking lot, in which my grandpa was there to get us. I guess my dad used the payphone, we went and I was all warmed up with coa-coa and I stayed at my grandparents. That bike ride back was just brutal... not sure the point of it. Just a story.
ugh... never adding photos like this again! Just too much work and I don't like it. If it wasn't for that fact I worked hard to put these on here, relatively awful like... I would just get rid of it. But, they shall stay! hand in hand with the fact I hate it. I'm re-writing this one day and there will be no pictures with it! Maybe like 4 pictures... NO MORE!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
I digress, All changes in life even the ground under my feet having minerals added such as plastic. odd I know, but look it up. Then there is the addition of nuclear waste and radiation for generations to come, years from now people will pull up hunks of plastic because of us. Hunks of radioactive plastic... stuff. umm... maybe not. Again, I digress... I promise.
People always change, maybe it's true, the concept of fireworks as an analogy. Hard and fast exploding joy like yellow bursts, spider-like and then it fades away. It maybe quick, short lived even and later written about (such a life.) "Too weird to live, and too rare to die.", Hunter S. Thompson. IT's never as great as living it, even if the times do suck.
Our memories even fail the best of analytical/detail oriented selves. Nostalgia is impossible to detour, sad endings stick with us. Humans like despair, sometimes and most likely I feel.. more than joy even.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm just Kafka's Gregor, but that's perhaps too good for me. The NegaKris ahaha I just want to get french toast with bananas with that guy. Just take me for my good and bad. Despair and joy. evil heinous me and the saintly goody-goody. ahaha
Special and unique VS Ordinary and normal
Ego VS self-conscious
Kris vs NegaKris
What we do VS Who we are
Honest VS Truth
Means VS Ends
me ranting VS me shutting the hell up
This thing I made today... VS this same thing I made, this is my idea of a good transition point. Genius, I know.
So I saw Scott Pilgrim vs the world... it's a tad obvious based on a few references.
p.s. Enjoy this, me!
Okay me, thanks!
No problem, stop talking to yourself... we discussed this.
Oh, ya... my bad. Sorry.
It's ok, don't need to apologize. tea-tee-why-el
Disclosure: if you read this feeling, you learned nothing and gained nothing. Don't feel bad, it's all just static.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
"Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives... and to the ‘good life,’ whatever it is and wherever it happens to be."
Monday, February 14, 2011
This is, was, and shall be... my theology.
Going form peace to peace until I've destroyed it all.
Oh vices, pull further into and out of darkness. What a shame it's come to such. Good day. I said good day!
Rejection has sadly become my truth. Narcissism has been put in place of any wisdom I have had. And it's seen in my dwindling strength. That cursed honey, night and day, despairing dragon lair... I can't ignore it just as much as it won't ignore me.
simple moments are like decades or, when you're young it seems like an eternity and you wake up fifty. I've imposed blindness on myself, something like sleep... right? goodnight, until we're old and no longer young. waiting to die... blah blah blah... inception quote... blah blah blah, I talk a lot.
Quote 4(I'm not original): Youth is counted sweetest by those who are no longer young.
Maybe that, over stayed welcome, you discussed doesn't apply to you but me.
My introvert beard is growing in nicely, a walden type beard. I got that going.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Shattered pieces of that summer sun tea jug, perhaps we are those pieces. Perhaps that is our peace or at least my peace.
Three blessed innocence lingers,
bodies with souls,
bodies with spirit,
bodies with wear and tear.
Abandonment beyond torment.
milk and honey in my comb.
Throbbing sobs of SOB nature.
All is peaceful, All is war.
Merely perceivable, inevitably believable and
no one really gives a damn.
seas crashn' in,
blood swirln' drain,
busted in tattered glass mess.
Tides come in but,
"it is well in my soul."
Disenfranchised thine eye.
Bursting through seams,
selling nations denim jeans.
Destroy icons by making them icons,
deliberate fundamental image-less.
Turntables booming loud meaningless.
All amplified, All important.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
What a romantic, poetic end to whatever it is I live today. Even though it’s all I shouldn’t and never shall do, for I am a coward to it’s grasp. Poor and homeless, what else is there left? I’ve been rich, intellectual, at Fancier studies and even battled the best. Worked for my money. I even spent the biggest gaps of my time in the synagogue of many religions… I’m like Siddhartha starring in the river… what next? Om, perhaps…
It's been exhausted, the last nerve, scraping the bottom barrel. Depressed, lost and hope given. What's left evaporated in wholes. Common these days. Expressions left, interpretation sucks, spirit fails, body unwilling, mind in shambles... shambles, shambles, shambles... sweet bumblebee didn't help me. Dormant time and time again. Rodent under floorboards, rodents gnawing away night and day, rodents common to the commoners. Typing rhythmic doom, beats in tune, notes in truth, revelations of conscious, negative hindsight. What's next is to drown in it's sounds; where inferno awaits.
epitaph unnatural to the limp ED plan unholy red-line distinctly altering subconscious, dragging battling through war and gutter. spreading gospels of dysfunction, with well placed functional numerical layouts of communistic salvation. Chaplin-esque tramps ongoing solutions, nothing but cannon fodder... cannon fodder, cannon fodder, cannon fodder.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
I can taste it in the suite
in the highest of heights
from the depths of a crevasse
but what I can't understand
is whats clasped in these hands
But what I can't begin to mistake
with the bottles booze and instinct
the troubles lost in disillusionment
and all the troubles lost in disillusionment
so who the fuck will ever care?
I'll toss out all philosophy
take part in the irony
of pulling nothing from eternity
the sugary suites
we tasted divided
from the highest of heights
was never for the journey
was never for the journey's sake
but what I'm beginning to mistake
with all the bottles and syringes
all the troubles partaken in
with the struggles partaken in
so who the fuck will ever care?
I've tossed out all theology
taken part in causality
of forgetting my reality
the taste so neat
the damned brisk sweet
deaf to my tongue, deaf to my tone
not yet deaf to sight, not yet deaf to sight.
Do tell my love, before the dawn of time passes. We insolent men, deaf to passes. Time ends all to soon. Departure comes shattering on in, the glass castle rests simply upon dirty foundations of tormented souls. Indeed the times shall be changn', but don't be bankn' on it. Sober up all in due time, the glimmer and shimmer we see is polished by moonlight. Our city changes by the second anyhow. We made it up by passing train, flowing blood pumping lusts of our souls. Diminished relics of old, simply laid to waste.
My post from oneword.com today.
It was a despicable wrench of the situation. All in which we never knew and it was indeed all that I loathed and hated within myself. the simple effort to fix the things, to change things, to need to know more and more to the effort of humanity. To weep at my own grave before I was ever dead. I weep for everything and nothing all at the same time.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
shattered away like the summer sun tea jug I broke in youth.
scrambling and playing,
my unknowingly past-life
What a future! my bastard bloodline...
it laughs in slight victory, but the simple crack is enough
bound together, forging on.
if it wasn't for you, where the hell would this be?
In a fucking coffin! laid to waste! Chewed meat to the dogs!
my mind basic chew toys... unity. one. unheard of.
if it truly wasn't for you. Mistakes-destruction-happenings
divorce. all of what I once thought wrong... was all right.
and I don't write until I'm in the right mind.
social standards claim impossibilites, eternity instills so much more.
I weep for you, my typing weeps for you, I weep for me and all those who cannot weep. I even weep for joy!
I never noticed but a casket
in which a hope laid
in that my hope rebirths
the disillusioned generation pulling up coffins
pulling nails in time. weeping joyful tears on the docks!
Painful fears and lost memories.
oh grandma, I hope to call you now. For it's too late, so Kathy is how it'll be. Do not apologize for troubles, do not apologize for wrong, there was hurt but joy has come from despair. A burden buried. a family born and would never live if not for you.
How blessed your actions blessed me.
never apologize for there is nothing to be sorry for.
forging nothing into something,