Log in

No account? Create an account


Apr. 8th, 2009 | 12:08 am

    I'm working and overnight/double. Meaning I had the nightshif and someone from the graveyard shift called off, so I'm picking up the extra hours. I actually like working overnight. For some reason I'm among the elite that actually fair better at night. There's a certain sereneness that takes over and alows me to be myself. As if I'm in my natural element. I feel safe, alive, and in my element. The world is sleeping (for the most part) while I thrive. I think it's because the wee hours forces you to live inwards, and I've always been an introvert with extroverted tendancies. I guess I am one of the children of the night (Dracula reference).

Link | Leave a comment | Share

One of those moments...

Apr. 6th, 2009 | 01:31 am

  I'm calm. Unusually calm. I just have that naive feeling that everything is going to be okay. At the same time, I'm contemplative. I anticipate nothing and desire nothing. Tranquility, security, fulfillment. All at once. Have I been a good boy? I don't know. I'm going to ride this tonight, hoping that my dreams will bring me something useful. Or take me somewhere I need to be. However, I do feel a longing. Some kind of wisdom, a revelation. A new point of view would be good. I think I have an Anarchists soul with a socialists brain. Constant conflict. But there seems to be a peace. Maybe I've found myself. HA! Just kidding. But I'm riding this out. It's nice.

Link | Leave a comment | Share


Apr. 6th, 2009 | 01:03 am

  I've personally struggled with god and religion. Nothing was ever really satisfying. It's almost like people set spirituality right next to sexuality side by side on a bookshelf. Everyone wants an identity, even though you're born with one. The only spirituality I relate to is Buddhism. First of all I like a fat god, it's good for the public. Most importantly, there's zen. Ah zen, do you ever see it used in a bad context? Everything from a calm mood to trendy night clubs, zen is synonymous with something positive. So what's my zen?
  I don't know. No, actually "I don't know" is my zen. Nobody uses it enough, as if we all need to be certain about everything. IDK. What a fucking revelation. So what do I IDK on? Well, God (big G) for one. IDK. Him, her, it, them. IDK. And what's wrong with that. What's wrong with doubting the assholes screaming from the pulpits, throwing your hands up, and letting the IDK take over?
  This applys to many things in life. Nobody really knows anything, they just have a good hunch. Why not just take it in stride, fly by the seat, or just fucking let go. Get your IDK on today, try it out. What's the worst that can happen?

Link | Leave a comment | Share

Open Letter to C-Town

Jan. 6th, 2008 | 11:58 pm

  Today I laughed
at the revelation
          that you are nothing to me.

To put it plainly:
      you're one drag in a full carton of cigarettes

Even though I'm not happy with my "over here"
I don't grieve for your "over there"
                                        Your destination is not home to me

I walk a million steps behind you
                                                                           so that I can stay a billion ahead of you
because you're a distraction, illusion

You're my yesterday false reality
                         and you never really were

                                                              I don't miss you anymore. 

Link | Leave a comment | Share

call me pinnochio

Jan. 6th, 2008 | 11:50 pm
mood: contentcontent

I see everyone's a puppet to love
Call me Pinnochio
I'd like to say I'm a rare breed who cuts his strings and goes beyond the status quo.

I'm not lonely
I don't pity myself
Just single and happy
        (muffle your gasps)

I'll just sit back, entertained
As you alter your life
To fit your soulmate

I've cut my strings
I walk alone
And I'm happy
muffle your gasps 

Link | Leave a comment | Share

If Mona Lisa was a Dude.

Jan. 5th, 2008 | 05:15 pm

 I've never seen the Mona Lisa in person, but that's how I'd describe it. If Mona Lisa was a dude, he was it. Now I'm not talking about the actual woman, the woman is a mystery. He's sublimely simple, known, what you see is what you get. I'm talking about the painting.

  A perfect work of art, you could stare for hours. That's all you can do, and that's all I did. I couldn't touch, smell, and my feelings were so strong they would deafen me. Perfectly framed, on pedastal. That's who he is.

  I couldn't say anything, it was already expected. He had a hard time even knowing me, people are so stupid. I wasn't taken seriously, so my feelings were subject to entertainment and microscopes. I was muted.

  All I could do is watch, day after day. I'd analyze his flavors of the week as a way to disguise how I felt. I wasn't fooling anybody. He knew just as I knew. We couldn't talk about it. It made me love him more. I wasn't allowed to feel, I wasn't allowed the heartbreak.

  The only option I had was to stare, behold. Stay quiet, and learn to supress myself.

  So it's easy for me to freeze myself, my "heart" for lack of better words. It's the only thing I can do to keep sane.

Link | Leave a comment | Share