Missing

I can't help but think about the magical conversations. Each one played in my head a dozen times, rewind and fast forward, trying to visualize every word. An alternate universe. Is that all i have created? is there a tangible reality at the end of the rope? Will he one day sit me in that chair on his lap after cooking me dinner? Will he reach into the ocean water to pull out a shell with a ring in it? Hopes and dreams and the remnants of pain are sewn over my heart in patches. Each patch sewn to it with words, if they were to unravel like thread my heart might fall through my chest and land at my feet like a wet towel. I fail to understand how physically changed I've become because of his words, how effected. Fear that something this strong can take hold and mold me like clay in my makers hands. Is he strong enough to weather the storms of my soul, will he take all i build and kick it over with one blow? Like a best friend turned bully that stomps through your perfect sand castle. With one blow; it's that easy isn't it? To break a heart. That missing goodnight or a slight different energy over the phone. A quicker goodbye than usual. A longer silence between seconds. Insecurities start crawling out of the ground like ants turning my mind grey and withdrawn. Yes, i am aware of reality, perhaps that's why i feel everything so intensely. Perhaps that's why each word and gesture means that much more to me than to the next person. I know how rare it all is.

I am a rock, I am an Island.

A New War Song

So a new chapter has begun. The tide has turned. It all makes sense. The wheel has started spinning in my head from a steep hill. It's that point in life where you just know what you have to do because the universe desires it of you. It's not up to me anymore but the external force that reaches within. it's grabbed a hold of my gift and love and existence and made it it's own. Molding and grooming me like a mentor for what is the new chapter in my life. This is my new war song.

Life is magical.

Is It Ever Gonna Be Enough?

When do they get their fill? When does perfection and love take over and strength? When will people stop making excuses for themselves? When will they stop leaving room for indulgence of temptation? When will they believe that truth exists and can be found if they find it in themselves first? Will we ever stop thinking the grass is greener on the other side of the fence? When will men be certain of their character and leave Never land? When?

Fading Into You

Self

I know I cannot make you feel. I know that while you find me attractive you will get your fill and have pointless unemotional sex with some semi attractive girl with no self realization. I know... maybe I don't, does it matter if I think of it? If I haven't the ability to trust in my blood? It's been striped of me. Raped out of my veins. No longer in operation; out of order. Fear fills me at times; trust seems like such a one way street. My approach now has changed; no longer will I stay, or fight like some college girl without a clue. I just leave and evaporate from existence one day never to be seen again. My mind keeps stroking endless revisions like some choose your own ending elementary school book...over and over. One analytical compromise after another. Will it end? Will it ever end? It's exhausting running these mental laps.

Stop.

Surrender

It just doesn't matter anymore. All that is inside of me pants underneath my skin and pushes through. My spirit longs to be free, to fly, and leave these petty scenarios of stupidity behind. Everything in my existence is like a bad rash. If there is a glimmer of hope, I know that it might not last forever. I dream of my beloved one, I dream of forever, i dream of my heart having a home...I dream. I dream. I dream. I dream. I too want to sleep another 300 years. I want to wake to a surreal breath of happiness. I don't want to give others hope that there is a carbon copy of me out there waiting for them when they are ready for something more convenient. Those are the words of death;

" you give me hope that there is someone else out there like you. you give me hope that i can love again. "

I am not your hope. I don't want to hope anymore. I want certainty. I want a clear existence. I want the truth. I want it all. To finally be able to live a life that I had always dreamed of, or at least a close shot to what i would have had if i could have made better choices in life. I'm sick of dreaming. more of this and I would rather never dream again and sleep until this life bored of me. Licking my wounds and fighting my battles is now exhausting... too complicated for words, a rash that has crept under my skin like an eternal fungus.

Mercy... mercy. Let me feel the sun on my skin.

...Taste My Home

The scent of rosemary lamb lifts through the air like native spirits, its intoxicating and nostalgic; the right amount of passion and comfort to stimulate both thoughts of the mother and the lover. You see I know who you are. I know what you desire most of all, I can smell your pulse as you smell mine. I know that you dream of crows in flight, waves of my body and long warm nights in my arms. Our souls met a long time ago amongst the stars, before we were plucked down from the galaxy and sent down to walk this earth. We were put here to search for each other, first scattered and forced to fight and claw through blood, sweat and tears so that we might understand how inseparable we really are once reunited. I know of the intoxication you search for. That dizzying spell that drugs us like the best lilac wine. I know that the scent on my skin will make you salivate. You'll be paralyzed with one touch of my lips, as will I of yours. I know you are rendered powerless by the thought of my silken tongue wrapping around every inch of your core existence. It moves through you like an ocean current. I can see your thoughts at night; thoughts of oral fixation on our spirits intertwined by delicious words, lips drenched with our wet liquor and milken delicacies of our own production. These spells make you reach for yourself so that you might sweetly release. I can hear you dream of the moment when you taste your home on my canvas, I can feel you claim it as yours. I desire you to conquer it, to eat of it daily and have it nurture your body, your manhood, and your existence. Once your find me, touch me and taste me for the first time since our heavenly departure, you will instantly figure that separation for the second time is not an option. We will die without the other from the physical torture of our flesh being ripped in two. It can never be. All the pain, the struggle was all a mental military drill in preparation for the recognition of our earthly form. We didn't remember what we looked like in the heavens, we didn't know which form we would assume here, but we can sense our presence from thousands of miles away. We know we are close, closer than ever before. I know you will find me. I know you will fight so that you will never have to fight to love again. Your river will merge into my great ocean and together will let life swim within us until we are ready to take to the crow covered skies and return to where we came from.

Color Came From the Crow

Not many see the colors in thee
That all make the one
While white is pure
and blue is deep
Black my soul has won

The blind see darkness when there's none
The light will show the truth
The crow has stolen all that's bright
and drank of rainbow's youth

So as she flies o'er head
Her dark wings stretch and grow
The one thing we should take from this
Is that color came from the crow

Possible?

Is it possible that there are men out there that can feel like this? That can shred the soul to tears out of love, longing...
Do these words they feel last forever or is it just an out pour of emotions in a beautiful moment, an orgasm, later to come down from the climax and sink into a mundane reality; that no love is perfect and all love requires sacrifice.

He will only play it when he falls in love with the girl he has been searching for his whole life. He has it all planned out; cook her dinner and show her that he can take care of her, nourish her, in all forms. Then he will take her small hand in his and sit her down on top of him in a chair, her legs on either side of his. While she straddles his body he'll hold her face with his stare for the duration of this song.

"then I would kiss her and tell her I love her with all my heart"

Words to his best friend that knows all there is of each centimeter of his body and soul. Each time after they make love, they listen again together and melt, one into the other, remembering the moment of simple and grand gesture, of truth. His beloved one.

Window

I opened the window and hints of early summer night pushed through my room. The breeze carried you on it. There it whispered images of you sleeping half way around the world; peaceful and content, even if for a few hours. The same breeze that skimmed your hair, your skin, your lips came and kissed mine.
Good morning.

Our Bounce

It's a rhythm we have found in the galaxy above our heads
Two, me and you
The spliced seconds that are ours to share, honest and bare
Secret super nova, I want to walk through your four percent
Venture where no ship has sailed in your dark waters
In 3d I slip my hands through your mind like a surgeon and take hold
They can have the 96 of your book, I want what no one else has had
If you open the door, I will close it behind me, float silently through
Observe and watch, listen, know, hold it in under my ribs
I'll read the volumes on your shelves and place them back so gently
Release you from the dark and lick your wounds with my lilac tongue
Inhale and smell your heart, your fear, your milky way
Would you orbit my world in the raw and step down from the stars
Drive into my tainted sea and find your way home to my constellation
Pull apart grime that resides in my depths and melt into my fortress
Move to my rhythm, feel my pulse run through your lips, rise and fall on my waves
From ocean to sky, merge between the two worlds of waters and heavens
Pulled together, magnetically, naturally, like the ocean and moon
Soon, soon, soon
Like two children meeting for the first time; stop, stare into my eyes, hold my digital hand and surrender to eternity
Forever

Feathers in Her Hair

Perhaps the rage will subside and when it does, it will take my soul with it? Perhaps I am done crying hallow tears over festering wounds I lick open.
Perhaps I have finally reached a point of "reality" that will transcend this universe and all that is wasted time and space filled with useless cruelty of mankind in it.
Perhaps it's no longer about wasted love and martyrdom? Perhaps it's not about the self pity and sulking in the "what could have been"?
Perhaps all happiness resides in the memories we had as children, when things were simple and the air seemed fresher.
Perhaps it's there I should reside, incoherent, with feathers in my hair, sitting upon high as a Goddess of all woodland creatures. Running through meadows kissed by the sun, filled with childhood laughter echoing through distant times and a male companion that only saw me as the center of his universe. There in Vienna, among ivy covered castle ruins, we lived an honest life and believed honest things, loved for all the right reasons because we were children.
Perhaps being an angel with no purpose but to remember those sweet moments is my destiny. I will paint my face and call to the wild with feathers in my hair and ignore the Empires I could have at my command.

Perhaps here I don't need to be rescued from the "madness". Perhaps the only reason I would want anyone to suck the venom from my veins is to feel their warm lips on my wound.

Walking dichotomies, such we are.

Heavy

No need to say more.....

I Want Your

I want your love
I want your disease
I want you open mouthed and on your knees
I want your love
Love love love
I want your love

I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want you leather-choked and cuffed to my hand
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

I want your horror
I want your design
Naked in bed
Long as your mine
I want your love
Love-love-love

I want your psycho
Your vertical kiss
I want you in my bed
I'll make you sick
I want your love

J'veux ton amour
Et je veux ta revenche
J'veux ton amour
I don't wanna be friends
...

Do You Remember Your First Love

If

"If you stand for nothing, you will fall for everything."

So cliche, perhaps...but the reason we hear it so often is because it's true. It's seems everyone needs a code to live by. Rules to keep us focused on what is real in life so that our "reality" is on a self realized level. The "next level" as someone told me not too long ago. What is the next level? I don't know, but I am sure that it would have something to do with selflessness and devotion and some interplanetary explosion of emotions. Something grounded, realistic, and tangible, which at the same time is so uncommon in this sad world of ours. Something profound and simple. Why do people complicate every breath?

So what do you stand for? What is your moral code? Do you follow it or do you like the way that the words sound and make you look when they fall from your lips?

Kick the Habit

It hurts getting punched in the heart
Pain throbs with every realization that those that use me are vile.
You are all the same: the cheaters, the liars, the players.
All of you; don't differ.
All of you; take what you want and leave fully aware of theft.
Why would you take something that is vulnerable and honest and beat it to a blood mess?
What kind of man are you?
Do feel like a man now? Feeling like a real man for putting another notch on the old bed post? Leaving another woman bitter.
You think a kiss on the forehead should do it? That you can walk away and it will all disappear? That women evaporate into thin air when you've had your fill. Convenient.
Or is it some hidden reason stemming from a pure secret intention not yet known? I doubt it. I highly doubt that a "When Harry Met Sally" moments exist in your mind. Maybe one day when the over processed bleach blond with a cheap over priced, C/LV/CC plastered all over her accessories leaves you, will you figure out she was a shallow barbie with an expensive degree? Or the over ambitious tramp cheats on you, like she did on her last guy, will you call me up and realize what you had? The Black Swan is what you boys want. It's always the Black swan.
Right, the one that was just a good honest person that loved with no strings attached, she isn't your cup of tea. It's the chase that excites your DNA.
Getting punched in the heart. It hurts.
Once again I am morally superior. Once again I look to the "paradoxical commandments". Once again I flip the off switch to my heart. Why have one anyway? Perhaps I need a new approach. I need to stop paying the electrical company and not just flip a switch.
I'm so out of your league anyway. Just look at me. Read what I write and look at all I am capable of. I am so far out of your league.

Worst Things Beautiful

On the day you were born
The sun filled my eyes
I fell within the wars that rise

What were you here for?
What will you find?
Could I save your life, like you saved mine?

[chorus]
Wait until the morning comes around
Wait for something beautiful
Wait to see if worry turns around
Wait, please wait

I tried to keep you from
Everything that was
So difficult for me

But it makes you strong
When you hurt so long
I'll put it all in faith that you won't leave

[chorus]


Looking up now you see that
Everyone seems so happy
The crooked somehow keep breathing
When you couldn't be so happy

Maybe they just don't know
Maybe we just don't know
Maybe we just don't know

So I'll wake every morning
Wake with the sun
Were the worst things always
The first things to come?
Find a way to move on and a way to be strong
Because some things do change...

Some things come that make
The worst things beautiful

[chorus]


Wait

Undisclosed Desires

This video brings memories of when I shot them at a local recording session in Philadelphia. They brought their own lighting just for kicks and put on an amazing mini concert in what one would call a large garage. Yes, everyone should feel envious of me;) Beautiful boys, perfect, perfect lyrics.

I know you suffered
But I don't want you to hide
It's cold and loveless
I won't let you be denied

Soothe me
I'll make you feel pure
Trust me
You can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers that you're wicked and divine
You may be a sinner
But your innocence is mine

Please me
Show me how it's done
Tease me
You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Please me
Show me how it's done
Trust me
You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

CAde ...

you can be my supernova pilot.

Paradoxical Commandments

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.
What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.
Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.
In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

-Mother Theresa

New Low

The soundtrack to my life.
Cheers.

The Boy with the Huskey

Another mundane day seemed to be unraveling. "Icky Thump" blasting in the car seemed to get my mood into a higher realm of life, I could have said I was happy at the moment just listening to Jack's sexy vocals. I put the left turn signal on at the main intersection that was nothing more than an average ill designed shopping plaza for dollar stores and quick marts that aren't open 24 hours.

While studying the red galvanized steel roof of the plaza I could only think that this light seemed to take forever. A huge Husky started crossing the road before me. In tow, the massive dog was walking his owner. A cute boy in his late 20's or early 30's, hipster garb on, knit hat, a slight beard and bright blue eyes. I'd bet there was a tattoo of some sort inked on under this cool dark green jacket. As the beautiful blue eyes beast continued to drag him in front of my car we made eye contact. I couldn't help but laugh at the site of this handsome man and his dog, and the total lack of control he had over the creature. He didn't stop looking at me. He passed my car and turned his body backwards to keep locked in. Now he was being dragged backwards. I was waiting for him to fall on his ass; he didn't. He made it safely to the other side of the street and stood there on the corner like a little boy watching fireworks. I pulled my car up a bit to get a better look at him. He was standing there and waving at me. Cute grin on his face and staring still. I knew i was turning some shade of pink on my face as i felt heat run up my cheeks. We stood there for a few second, gazes locking in intensely. A few long seconds ticked by like Meg's drum beats. It was a perfect moment. The shortest date I have ever been on, but nevertheless it was perfect. He was perfect, I was perfect. We said nothing and promised nothing.

The light turned green, I had to obey and turn even though I wanted to stand there for a few more moments to see if he had the balls to walk over and be ridiculous. To leave a number behind my windshield wipers and have some crazy Serendipity moment. Nah, we were both too cool and too proud. Maybe we'll run into each other at that cool hipster bar around the corner? Perhaps. This was more than enough, though. Looking in my rear view mirror, I could see him still standing there and watching my car drive away. I waved.

Thank you boy with the Husky.

The Cave

It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Umami

The Phantom taste.

umai "delicious" and mi "taste


That flavor most non culinary homosapiens can't put their finger on. The clueless sense that they enjoy it's ability to induces salivation and a furriness sensation on the tongue, stimulating the throat, the roof and the back of the mouth making them drool and come back for more. But the don't know what to call it. Sweet? Sour? Salty? Savory? Perhaps these same mammals don't have the ability to sense what makes a person out of the ordinary. What makes a person physically and chemically connected to the other. They just know they are amused, entertained, simulated, and if life were a Facebook account they would hit "like". In this department we go from Umami to Aura, a luminous radiation that surrounds each one of us. That something that most cannot see nor sense because they are so desensitized and over stimulated by the constant filling of the mind with useless and toxic temporary escapes from reality, life and their spirit.

There is a power so strong for some in connection that they are bound for life, with or without the other half. It's very real, chemical, the phantom flavor of the soul, an invisible thread linking them like satellites. When the night falls and all noise turns into black silence, the static of life subsides and lets our soul wander in our minds, opening doors to the things that matter most; we find it there. The soul-mate we have been searching for yet block by the constant bombardments of human turbulence, the temptation of Neverland always around the corner and the lack to hone in on the things that matter most in life. Walking empty shells we have become, only haunted with the distant sound of the ocean and not swimming in it any longer.

Just standing still, focusing on the moment, feeling energy and strength sit a top your skin and fill a room is more magical than a bar crowded with the opposite sex drooling over nothing more than physical appearance ( not that we mind;). Finding that fifth taste, the mystery of it all, the passion to find it... it stirs only those that want a life that is filled with such joy it can bring one to tears. That sense of overwhelming passion and love that we think of as fantasy and have problems searching for it. It's found in the sounds of silence, the still of traffic lights, the slowness of home cooked meals... the flavor of your lovers skin and your ability to internalize it. To have a life above the rest, to be aware of things that are not visible to most.

Bon Appetit

sunrise

7:13 AM

Treading Water

Head above water; swimming vertically, and feeling every muscle searing with flames with every second that goes by. Seems like eternity is taking it's time. Head above water; I'm still here, I am alive, breathing and surviving in a body of water that will have me if I chose to surrender. Head above water; the pain becomes a form of comfort, a reminder that I will be rock hard when I swim to tame dry land, when I chose to. I will walk out on shore with the mind and body of a Goddess. Every curve strong, seductive, oozing with confidence, strength, and a raw feverish power. My mind will be clear, aware of the survival training that broke me down and rebuilt me into a tank. Baptized in the viscous ocean waters, I am reborn into my new form.

sunrise

7:14am

Little Lion Man

There is something to be said, positive, about a man that can admit that they fucked up. The problem is there aren't many of them.

Rolling in the Deep

Luscious inspiration.

Warpaint

Sunrise

6:21am

Lent

40 days to think about it all. All of it. A deep meditation of light. Focusing on the life that runs voluntarily through our veins. A rising from the dead from all the things that weigh our existence down with negative energy. A "letting go" of sorts, a vacation for the mind, body and soul. A spiritual cleansing that allows us to focus on things that are the good around us, right, pure, honest, sacred, and clear.

I've made so many amazing mistakes in life. Hopefully through reflection I can find a way to rid of negative patterns and cliches that seem to cling to the heal of my shoe like toilet paper. I was never a materialist. I can safely say that I have always wanted a practical life with enough but never too much. The thought of having an abundance of anything is foreign to me. My inner reflections are found down the hall and to the left. The two doors that are adjacent to each other. One with the sign "love" hanging on it and the other door with the sign "art".

I've opened the "love" door a a few time in my life. Usually on lock down and a big Doberman barking behind it. Being in a solitary spot now, I can see who was the "one" I let go. The blue eyed, dark hair, god that would have scaled mountains for me whom now has two beautiful kids and a gorgeous wife that makes his world spin. I was stupid. I could have had happiness? Perhaps that is all in my mind? We all have that moment in life, when all sours and our lovers depart from us or visa-versa, we think of the one we let "get away". I remember one amazing man telling me of his love in college. He was so happy that we found himself crying out of sheer joy while taking a walk in the forest with his lover. He left her because his entourage thought he was too young and should go and sample what the world had to offer. After all that sampling he finds himself in solace as well.

When does the search end? If it's that good, simple and uncomplicated, why do we find ourselves fall victim to judgments of others and their standards instead of to what our heart tells us? (By uncomplicated I mean compatibility and not situational predicaments. Life is never without complication. Let's not be fools.) I can only gather that through all the dreary gloom there is light if you want to see it. One has to be in dark to know what light is. In love and art, in life.

So I sit here with the same question again in my head; Did I let a good man walk away because I was young and stupid? Did he let a good woman go or would they have out grown one another anyway? Perhaps, but we wouldn't have the knowledge we have now. Some tools for living a better life come with a heavy price tag. But they help you build a better house for the future. For some reason I do subscribe to the belief the universe will conspire to help you if you know exactly what it is you want. Simply hoping you stumble into the right person at a bar doesn't fit the bill. Perhaps it's in front of my face? I don't know, I can only follow the light and meditate on love and art in general. Everything seems more clouded when we are young. Looking for all love in all the wrong places and expecting a custom written life script from Hollywood. We project our desires on people we would want to see ourselves with forever, even qualities that the person doesn't posses. Later, we come to find out they weren't what we expected. The the prom queen/president of her sorority was a hoax and the handsome man with the perfect career and life ambitions decided to change his perspective on life.

Light: We see it after a journey through many turbulent storms and still take the risk at our hearts ambitions fully knowing it can get cloudy within seconds. What persistent creatures we are.

So cheers to 40 days of finding light and beauty. There I will reside.

Oh, the art? I didn't forget about that door. All the best work comes from the transition of dark to light. It is adjacent to love. They are neighbors. Seems that music is the best example of how intertwined the two are.

Times Like These

Sunrise

6:22am

Kaleidoscope

When I was young I fell in love with a handmade kaleidoscope. I don't remember the artist that made it, however, i do remember it was at the Santa Monica Pier Art Show. Hand painted a high gloss black with purple drips resembling that of designs in your latte foam at your favorite gourmet coffee shop.

The outside was nice, but the inside! Oh the inside was beautiful! Perfection every time i looked into it. The most brilliant seashells ever. All so exotic, so unique and small enough to fit into the cylindrical container that magnified the stunning vision to the X number. He didn't pick the shells by handful and toss them in. NO! I could tell that these shells were especially picked for this scope. Connecting the inside with it's outside. The creator mindfully designed the meaning of this very simple toy to work as one and reflect as one. Like a god creating the perfect man or woman, he created each one with a different personality, a different wit and a different soul. He made a new life out of remains of what was once living.

Far better than any video game or plastic tit-kabob doll. It was nature dancing in circles in unique patterns that never repeated themselves. Always something new to look at and always beautiful. SO simple, so amazing and such a rare instrument.

I have it til this day. I've caught myself crying just holding it in my hands. Because really, how simple is the true beauty in life? They tell us to stop and smell the flowers. But who are they? And do we really know what they are talking about? Most assume it's a moment where we can slow down? Perhaps we have it all wrong. Slowing down is not stopping. It means you are still moving but slower, and even that is relative to how fast we are use to living our life. No, stopping mean just that. Stopping cannot be relative, it's a definitive. It's a point in time where one is forced to observe and hopefully reevaluate everything around them. Standing there, kaleidoscope in hand, and simply allowing yourself to experience true moments of beauty. To find it in the midst of all that is wrong around us and isolate it from the bad and evil that has us running in circles that are far less beautiful than the inside of a kaleidoscope.

Maybe, if we all practiced on our own kaleidoscopes, we would be better observers of people and life. Maybe we would be better? Maybe we would see clearer and spend less time making mistakes because we were too caught up in societies standards of when we should be getting married, having babies, and careers.We should be more selective of those we let inside our lives, our hearts, our cylinder. There is something to be said for those that can stop and admire the simple beauty around them and understand what they are looking at. Those that take the time to cry over a kaleidoscope, I suppose, as if it were human.

Sunrise

6:24am

Normal

"...normal is a phillies t-shirt and cheese steaks," he told me.

I had to comment on this because I am so far removed from the norm it seems. I am so abstract. I see the allure of having that normalcy, of cheering on the home team. But as I participate, with a smile on my face nevertheless, it feels foreign. It's like going to a different country and being the observer of some grand parade. A pleasure to watch but still a failure to understand the excitement of not actually taking part in the game, of being the observer and living vicariously through those that are experiencing it first hand. I guess I'm not the communal sorority/fraternity mentality type (say that one fast three times in a row, I dare you, I double dare you).

*SIDE NOTE: Nor would I ever want to be. I feel paying for companionship and having some organization in one's resume is a useless and pretentious thing. Bottom line: Fake. A lie. An insecurity so deep it manifests itself into actually being comfortable with living force fed corporate dreams and feeling a fake sense of accomplishment, security, and status. I guess one needs that in a world that rapes their drones endlessly of their your soul, morality, and humanity. Can people actually be charitable to those in need without taking credit for it for once? Can one have money and drive an average car? Can our generation actually have a marriage that lasts longer than a few months? Do they even know how to have a companion and put them ahead of their career anymore? I feel it's a down fall of our time, an epidemic of lost people that want more and more and don't know when enough is enough. To the point that they are like fat house cats toying with a poor mouse they caught just for the fun of it. Just to kill time. *END OF SIDE NOTE

So going back to living vicariously through watching your favorite team sport(I know I am not a linear thinker, nor do i claim to be. Think of my mind as the movie "Inception". It all makes sense in the end. LNOL ).Nothing wrong with watching sports. It's just manner in which they are watched translates, into some deeper manifestation of what the "norm" has become. I'm not saying I don't think people should enjoy a few good hours of tuning out and washing the old brain from a hard days work. I'm saying I don't understand the excitement about it, the obsession. The insanity that comes with such "normal" things. I do however, understand the adrenaline rush that is experienced on the playing level; the reality of it all. Now we are talking. Not to be the observer, but the participant. The rush of flying down snow covered hills or getting bombarded by an 8 foot wave. I am talking about the difference between those that "watch" and the very small percentage of those that "do" what those that watch would never be able to do due to the simple lack of sheer talent or just the lack of balls, effort and dedication. Those that "do" are not the norm, it's where my understanding is most accepted. It's my norm. We are the abnormal by society standards. The artists, the non-conventional thinkers that make things and change the world, the athletes, the thespians, the entrepreneurs, writers, and those that have an uncertain income for the most part because they cannot fall servant to the wall street mentality of the world. The blunt rejects that are the square pegs in the round world. The ones that speak their mind and build things with words, images, with their hands, with their mind, body, and soul. These people, at least to me, are the ones that know of truth, honesty, loyalty, and love on a different level. They seem to be in tune with the individual contact more so than the "norm". Perhaps they don't obsess over the next world cup, the next world series, or play offs. But they get more excited about their next creation, their next dinner they will cook for their loved one/s, the next wave they catch, the next painting they paint, the next book they write, story they tell, dance they choreograph, the next adrenaline rush, next training session, the next time they see their lover, and so it goes on. The investment of time and enthusiasm into life. To dim the over paid, over advertised, over pumped bullshit corp America forces down our throats and cheer for the most important things around us. Our very short lives. Our passions. Our ability to be amazing people. It has all been stolen by The Jersey Shore, Sports that we watch and don't get out to play anymore. Is this the "norm" ? The Phillies t-shirt and a cheese steak? If so I am most happy to be abnormal. I am more excited about a nice glass of red, a dinner I have been thinking of all day after new concepts for a shoot, and yet, I can still kick it in front of the tube to watch a game on occasion.

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” Leonardo da Vinci

Man has complicated the simplest things in life that should be most beautiful. Priorities, love, and virtue have fallen victim to the front line of American pseudo-intellectual corporations promising a morally edited "American dream" for the small price of their souls.

French Lilac

I smell like french lilac.

The Silence

I sit there in the void of sound. The universe hugs my body like a lover.

Freed Wolf

I am a free wolf. You can tell by the three pawed trail I leave behind in the blood tainted snow.

Veraicon Page

Facebook Page that you should like. Click HERE to be taken down the rabbit hole.

Breathing

Breathing more normal
in and out, in and back out again
It keeps me alive and awake
simple

Stronger
I am here, alone, amazing
Goddess some say, unique others
a wave covering the lands it claims

Untouchable once again
Inside my own womb
my core protected by great walls
I need no one and nothing to thrive

I am a rock, I am an island
I will survive in my cocoon
In my creative mind, in my own love
I am mine. Reclaimed.

I will sneak myself into your pocket
Invisible, do what you want, do what you want
I will sink and I will disappear
I will slip into the groove and cut me up and cut me up

There's an empty space inside my heart
Where the wings take root
So now I'll set you free
I'll set you free
There's an empty space inside my heart
And it won't take root
Tonight I'll set you free
I'll set you free

Slowly we unfurl
As lotus flowers
And all I want is the moon upon a stick
Dancing around the pit
Just to see what it is
I can't kick the habit
Just to feed your fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart

We will sink and be quiet as mice
While the cat is away and do what we want
Do what we want

There's an empty space inside my heart
And now it won't take root
And now I set you free
I set you free

Because all I want is the moon upon a stick
Just to see what it is
Just to see what gives
Take the lotus flowers into my room
Slowly we unfurl
As lotus flowers
All I want is the moon upon a stick
Dance around a pit
The darkness is beneath
I can't kick the habit
Just to feed my fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart

Nobility Lost

There is nothing more devastating in life than to see a noble, wise, and morally superior man deteriorate himself to the dungeons of the immature, pathetic, and lost. The valiant Knight that fought a good war, a righteous war, and a battle of a moral choice, now embraces the same evil that he once fought against. The beautiful man that now, in a time of what should be a solace reflection, chooses self destruction and retires to the pathetic traditions of misogynistic sexist men. Now living only for his "ego" and filling it with emptiness in volume instead of quality, truth, love, and honesty. Running to the frivolous ways of the whorish world where his soul will be hardened and raped with self inflicted battle wounds. Is it the preferred therapy of all men, to lose themselves in adolescence and refrain from being men? Temporarily? Permanently?

I don't care anymore. I can't. Will I always assume men are shallow thinking animals as they proven themselves, with only radiant glimmers of beauty that sparkle and fade like fireworks.

Too Afraid To Love You

Dreams, what are they? Why are they? To torture us? Relieve us? Must they roll in like a thick fog each night and smother my sleep? The time awake that I spend trying not think of you is difficult enough, and yet you follow me still, into the night, along the sands, with the crashing of waves at my bare feet, you stand there before me, in the moonlight. I am there, the fog has rolled in and I have no way to escape but by dawns light. I can feel the soft yet cold breeze brush up against the hair on my arms, on my legs, my bare navel. I stand there naked, feet in sand with the freezing water pulsing against them, washing them deeper and deeper into the sand with each push. I cannot move my feet as you approach me, your eyes filled with the reflection of the moonlight against the ocean waves. At first I tried to free myself of the sand that quickly cemented itself around my ankles but I stopped as I knew that I didn't want to go anywhere. A force was keeping my grounded to where I needed to be; There, in front of you, completely exposed, vulnerable, afraid. You moved with a graceful power, a masculine sweep with a gentle disposition. So thoughtful was the look in your eyes, as if you found a wounded deer in the woods and tried to sooth it. You stopped but inches from my chest and studied my face carefully, reached out your hand and with the back touched the side of my cheek. There was pain there, it was throbbing and hot, an injury I was not aware of. Your gaze then quickly moved away from my bruised cheek and to my eyes, then my lips, and you fingers carefully passed along them. Our bodies so close, yet not touching, produced so much warmth that it was comforting. The warmth was magnetic, intoxicating, surreal. Yet, you never got closer. You stood there silent, arms at your side, and planted in the sand and cold water as was I. The stillness of the moment was polarizing, time paused, the breeze slowed, the ocean hushed itself to listen to our breath synchronize.

I wanted to reach out and touch you back, but i couldn't. My arms were bound by your spell. A force that I didn't know how to conquer. A spell I didn't know how to break. So cruel, so unfair, to be that close and never taste reality. I felt my body ache, my heart burn, the emptiness and sorrow started flooding my veins. My heart pulsed, the mirrored breathing between us was interrupted by my short and rapid gasps of panic. My back was struck by an awesome pain. my shoulder blades were being pulled from my flesh. I tried to scream but the pain stole my voice, it stole my air. You stood there watching, tears streamed down your face, yet you didn't move. You watched as fear spilled it's letters all over you. My hands reached out for you, palms up, pleading for help. Still you didn't move. Some other force was keeping you there watching, tearing you apart, and frozen. Your expression stated changing as my pain intensified to the point of surrender. Looking amazed and bewildered your eyes focused above me. I was too delusional to follow your gaze, my hot tears blurred my vision. I felt the pain to slow as two huge projectiles launched themselves on either side of me. Soft yet powerful, the dark shadows arched ten feet above my head on either side making their presence known. Feathers as black as a crows covered what I identified as wings. I turned my head slowly to take a glance and a shiver ran down my spine and through my new extensions, connecting us. I tried again to reach for you, but i was still constrained. I stared into your eyes hypnotically as the black giants started to slowly move on either side of me and reach towards you. Slowly they engulfed me with their shadow and proceeded to gently warp themselves around your body. We were cocooned in them with only the moonlight peeking through. The cold ocean water stopped pushing into us, the sand released it's grip, our breath started to fill the small space between us as my dark arms tightened their grip.

The fear had vanished from your face, the bruise was gone from mine, and the pain I felt had evaporated though my body and into some other space in the universe. It happened; we touched. Bodies naked and ablaze started warping around one another, hearts pounding like Neptune's cavalry through our blood. Your hands cupping the back of my head as your pressed your warm lips into mine, merging into me, as we levitated over the water. I could feel cold drops of surf kissing my heals. I could feel your never ending grip around my waist, around my back. The emotion was so full, so strong , so real, that only tears could satisfy an outlet. The fear was gone, there was no such word in existence. Had there ever been?

The fog started to roll out, we began to panic as rays of light pierced my eye lids like needles. You started to vanish like air as I resisted to open my eyes.

I want to sleep a million years.

Hands

Every time I look at my hands I wish you were holding them.

The Great Shutdown

There comes a moment when I feel so much, so strong, that I cannot hold it inside any longer. Not without help. A transferable median for my love. These moments happen rarely and might not ever present themselves again in my life, I realize this. Without that median for my transfer and reciprocation I have to withdraw into my icy cave. I am the ice queen: no heart, no pulse, just a pale beauty locked away in a castle made of frozen glass. An ornament is all I am and seek to be. Even drinking has no pleasure anymore. It stirs no emotion other than pain and rejection and I don't wish to feel anything anymore.

Perhaps one day you might stumble onto my castle gate and dare to enter it's frozen walls, turn on the lights and wake me. Take what has been given to you. Perhaps you will never think of my existence again? So I lay here, numb, expired, cold tears unknowingly trickle down my cheeks, as faint images of the ocean surf, warm beach sands, and snowy mountains fog up my tired mind. whoever you are...

I reach for the light switch.

Click.

Hello, it's me. I've come to see you again solitude and emptiness. This is my greatest shutdown.

The Funeral and The Birth

I don't know which came first. Was it the funeral or the birth inside my heart that touched the finish line first. Was it a tie? Inside the four chambers that pump life to my sense, I have clarity on the notion that came to be my sweet present torment.

The funeral was a struggle of flesh and mental fiber being stretched to their limits with mourning, grief, and the image that i wanted us to be. Realizing those were lies, none existent illusions in blankets of thick fog that i longed for and never received, I felt it begin to lower into the cold earth. A life that was nothing more than a hidden two faced secret stashed away from my sight for years. My grieving demised when the realization of betrayal rocked the deception i was choreographed into. Clear and bright red, like thick blood, it screamed in violent decibels for a moment and then was no longer. It evaporated into the universe, into hell, into a black hole where it has detached from my core. It's been replaced instantly. An exchange; the funeral for the birth. The evil that tortured me for so long with vindictive lies was over taken with one touch from you. Like the cry of a new born baby passing through the birth canal, bloodied and brilliantly there in all glory and truth.


The birth was so natural. The new screams and cries so vivid in my heart. It took all he had poisoned me with and awakened my four chambers with a new blood, a fountain of light that I have not know. I never believed in heaven until I listened to your words, your soothing yet raspy voice, and your breath softly falling down my neck. You filled me with you. Swim through my veins as my heart pumps your sails, pushes you though my every desire and need that you can conquer. You are a blood donor, I cannot separate yours from my own. You are forever in me and I cannot let it go. I don't want to... I need it to live. I need you like truth.You are the truth in this sick and twist reality that was created for us. The stage set with disgusting and vile swamps of harsh reality, and we the players. Romeo and Juliet had it easier, they got to die for one another, unknowingly. Here we stand, all knowing of our past, our present, our inability to stay away from one another, and yet to fight the oddity of the exchange. It's shocking that the instant one lover died in my heart, that you should be born into that cavity that very same moment. Is this yet another lie? A dream within a dream? A play within a play? Indeed it is too good to be true? Surreal and sick at the same time. Can there be such harsh truth that one refuses to believe it? Something so completely explosive that takes over mind, body and soul? Or is this only what movie scripts are made of? Perhaps, but only a fool would not explore the vast oceans of passion, complete love, insane intoxication, due to the whispers from fields of pessimists that surround.

Do not leave me here alone too long, the cold is chilling. Why fight it? Why stay away? Why only visit in our dreams when it is there tangible and ready to ride? "They" say when you die and see the white light you experience fear and with each closer step you begin to realize that this is something beautiful, honest, and bigger than us. Let's die in this birth and follow the majestic rays of light that fall upon us. Let's be born again.

Wake up. wake up. I lay here isolated from you by a pane of glass.

Oranges

Oranges are a metaphor for life. Its delicious, but is it worth getting ur hands sticky?

I peel my own oranges and enjoy every bite. I lick my finger tips and let the juice drip down my lips. Join me... U can lick the juice off my lips, off my finger tips. You can get sweet and sticky. Drenched with juice that deserves to be drank by those that crave to live life.

My Sentiments on Slow

Slow is the kiss that hovers above my lips
Slow is the tree that grows it's branches
Slow are the wise to react in situations
Slow is love that nurtures each detail
Slow is the time that passes without you here
Slow is the patience that is learned

All I Wanted

All I want is some warmth
Your voice to shower my senses each night before bed

All I want is to hold you while you make breakfast
to wrap my hands around your waist,
tuck my head between your shoulder blades,
kiss your bare back

All I want is to weave my cold feet into yours at night
to lightly travel the contour of your chest and receive a response
a light touch, a kiss, a whisper

All I want is to swim in the ocean with you
lose ourselves there in the blue monster
silent yet roaring, together warm lips entangled

All I want is to make love to you under the stars
Smell your sweet scent mixed with the air
Feel you move inside of me

All I want is to talk about life's mysteries
into the late hours of the night
holding your naked body against mine
Embrace each word your perfect voice speaks

All I want is to live life fair with you
Daily chores would be sweeter
knowing we are halves of a whole
knowing you are not a leech
but a lover that gives waves of love
crashing into each corner of life

All i want is trust
To hang on your every motion like a child
Believe in all you do and say
Mathematically thought out and logical
completely intoxicating

All i want is your heart
your soul to finally give in
to believe that this is something bigger than us
this was meant to be
the path is so clear, so vivid, so honest
you can't deny this flood
it has swallowed us

All I want is you

re: ex vi termini

I walk through this dream called life
I stumbled on your words
Words that bind and feed the soul
they have fed mine
they have nurtured me with hope
they have given me the will to live
in all dark days and nights
your words are a heart beat
thump thump thump on the pages of existence

The peace i imagine in lost lands covered with white blankets
it's because of you
The silence that my mind goes to is through a solace connection on black pages
here we exist, in our own realm, in our own world with no time to intrude
i can lose myself, i can find myself
as i stumble over your words
thump thump thump

most certainly no olives

My quiet conversation with you unknowning

life is too short to wake up with regrets.
so it is, you are right. we have to move on from this venom.

So love the people who treat you right.
I cherish those that love with honor and respect. I will look at that which i have and not that which i do not have.


Forgive the ones who don't just because you can.
I hope you do. I did, it makes you the bigger person to bestow that mercy on those that perhaps don't even deserve it.

Believe everything happens for a reason.
I do. Otherwise there would be no point to this life? Perhaps i carried this burden of knowing for such a long time so her true colors could show. Perhaps it was all for you.

If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands.
I hope you do. You have a clean slate to start from. never look back. you are beautiful, you are honest, you are raw. Never be something someone else tells you to be. You are a free man.

If it changes your life, let it.
I will try to let it. it's hard, again you are so much stronger. i know i try to hang on to things that are no longer. the wounds are too fresh. maybe one day soon we will meet and talk about the person we discovered within.


Take a few minutes to think before you act when you're mad.
trying to. my pain still takes control at times. peace is something i have to work on. but my situation is very different than yours.


Forgive quickly.
But don't be naive. Forgive but don't forget. let it build your wisdom and build your demands and character.

God never said life would be easy, He just promised it would be worth it.
I hope you are right. For my sake and yours.

For: J

The moment i saw you sitting in your car as i pulled up, i knew. i knew you would wrap you arms around me and hold me longer than most normal embraces. this embrace was filled with a crazy mixture of pain, sorrow, lust, compassion and love. it had a control violence to it. you held me so tight my ribs changed shape, you were crushing me into you. i didn't want you to let me go. how long has it been since a man has held me like this? i felt wanted for the first time in a long time. we were a mirror image of one another. clones with the same fury, passion, and pain racing through each vein. your blood ran much warmer than mine. mine still cool from shock and fear of what was going to happen. i could feel you breathing me in, i inhaled your scent too. faint smell of cigarettes and salt from your sweat...it was nice to smell skin so close again. it destroyed me to realize how long I've missed that warmth. the way you held and kissed my hand on the drive to what would be a demonic confessional brings tears to my eyes.

With all that was happening around us that night; the torture of the words that oozed in vile rivers from their lost lips, I felt your presence around me, protecting me, standing beside me, never letting me out of your sight. At times a bit rough, a bit forceful, but i liked it. i liked the feeling of a man taking control of me for my own sake, for my protection. Even they saw it. I was smiling inside that they did. You took me from there, you didn't let me go home with their love professed vows being the last corrosive memory killing me on my drive home. you were perfect. so perfect. a knight in some well scripted fairytale. you were so much stronger than i was. i envied you then as i envy you now. you're resilience is astounding.

i keep coming back to the memory of your salty lips as i try to find solace, rest, some sleep perhaps. the heat of them brushing against mine through our tears, violence, pain sends my heart racing at the thought, even the hair on my arms rise. every emotion i have ever felt in my life, i felt with you there in that moment. i've experienced passion before, i faintly remember, but this was nothing of the sort. we were saving ourselves, our souls, our essence...we should have melted into each other, consumed one another and faded away into the universe never to come back. magically crumble into a billion pieces, float into the night and walk among the stars in real love and peace. the moment was beyond anything physical, it was surreal. why are we still here?

i needed more saving than you did. i know that. i wanted to hide in that area below your clavicle and next to your heart. shrink and reside inside of your warmth until i could stand on my own two shaking legs. i wanted you to take me.

the song ended, so did that night and your warm arms. you're forever part of my soul, you saved my life with all that you are. i keep revisiting those moments as i grieve, struggle, and try to breathe with each day proving to be a battle field. it gets me through the panic attacks, the tears, the darkness. i can't forget you, you're mine forever.

the truth shall prevail, even if we can't see it.

love,
v

Boomerang

It will all boomerang back you
Life will affirm this
You will be alone in your deception
How do you sleep?

Good

"You're too good. That's the problem."

May and Maybe

Have a New Year

may it be filled with immaturity, ignorance and ego-centrism
may you be fulfilled in your power lust
may your stupidity eat you alive
may you finally realize that life has left you alone
may life finally kick you in the balls so hard that you grow half a brain
obviously, through it all it hasn't yet

maybe one day you will stop making excuses for your denial and realize you had it all
maybe one New Year you will stop and think and cry
maybe you will learn form all this
maybe you won't

Simple

I am so simple
perhaps an acquired taste
but never comprised or polluted

Truth and transparency are Heaven
they are comforting and yielding
to some

To others it is insecurity and Hell
fear of losing power and control
of autonomy
Immaturity driving through the roads of life

it could all be so easy
it could all be so right
it could all work like vodka and tonic

i am here
patient and studying the statistics of life
of outcome
of choice
of what could be

Life is so simple

Black Swan

I guess the Black Swan always gets the man, while the white suffers in solitude. 'The Little Mermaid' retold in the physical sexual form. But isn't it the truth? It seems a repeating theme in life and art; the 'bad' sexual muse is the one that the man chooses, while the 'good', pure, and devoted is left to wither alone and sacrifice her existence for the one that she loves and cannot live without. Yet, when the roles are reversed, let's say Phantom of the Opera, and the poor thing that 'needs' a man in her life has to choose, she picks the 'good' guy over the dark, mysterious, passionate seducer.



Could it be? When art mimics life it defines our habits in such a way that only cliches can be assumed? Men want sluts and women want the good guy they can trust? Is this who we are as humans? Is this the difference between men and women that will forever be taught and recited in circles til the end of time? Swan Lake and the Little Mermaid ingrained into our core until we hear ourselves saying "it's a beautiful story"? Is really this shallow for our coexistence? Has it always has boiled down to sex. Do men really desire the devout house wife sacrificing her life for their family and his career when he can have the alluring, high healed, little number at the office? No wait, he wants to have his cake and eat it too. Right. For the same reason a dog licks his balls; because he can.

Now we take the struggle that is common for so many women; the fight between the white and black swan. The inner struggle that leaves individual women wondering why he wasn't interested in our version of the Black Swan. Why is the girl at the office a better depiction of her than i am? Here's why; they can't coexist in the same body. Therefore; the White Swan kills herself. As if it isn't difficult enough for women to strive to be successful at what they do in for themselves, subsequently they are mother, wife, whore, virgin, to their lovers and husbands. Throw in children and everyday problems into the equation and the White Swan rushes in to save the day. While at the end of the day the Black Swan is too tired to perform on the seductive stage of bed linens. Yes, it seems that cliche has taken its toll here too and the 'little number at the office' has a better version of the dance.

Aronofsky got it right. Women will only be 'his little princess' when they can perform both roles perfectly producing schizophrenic dancers, even if it kills us. Meanwhile; He, Vincent Cassel, gets to play the role of a egocentric pig consuming, with a vivacious appetite, one dancer after another without conscience and choreographing her every move on and off stage. Might i add it was a nice touch to wrap Vincent's character into the decor of his apartment. Everything he owned was black and white, the two could not mix (no gray), yet they shared the SAME space in his cave. The furnishings created such a harsh environment visually that one can only imagine the conflict that the black and white, or the black and white swan, produced in the body/mind of the dancer. To Thomas, or men in general, this might be the perfect woman. The one that can embody both black and white? Good luck to the ladies that try to take on the task and to the gentlemen that think such a woman can exist in perfect harmony.

So girls. Pick one. OH...and we so want to be both?

Hard

She told me i had a hard shell. That i don't let many in. i can't let many in, not really. i wear who and what i am on my sleeve, it doesn't mean i let you in. Not behind these iron curtains, even communism has nothing on me. But to let you in, to let you in completely, physically, emotionally and mentally, it means i have made myself a part of you. You should know by now not to squander it. You were the chosen one and yet stupid you stand with your dick in your hand. Ignorant and unknowing of how to operate in sync. It's so simple, so easy and i gave you the manual, the instructions to my very being, to my existence. As if God himself had written it. A Bible if you will to the center of my chakras. The golden force field of everything i am is handed to you, yet you walk away. Perhaps you need more of that fast food mentality, more commercial happy-go-lucky, high heeled, Mad Men ideology of life kinda woman.


I've let few in. Each broke my armor, but you of all have pierced it bit by bit with a fork. Injured i stand and fight with the many piercings you have left. You won't even acknowledge the wounds. I can't compete, i have no spite or revenge. All i want is compassion and reconciliation, a naive thought when i spin my mind around all that you've kept so secretly from me. The other man i do not know has taken you; your hidden life that i am not apart of.

i wait. Radiating gold, in a chair, holding tight and still as if it were the electric chair and i about to burn. i can only wait so long before i will want to fade away and follow the winds as dust.

The cold comes

What once use to be lush and green is now in hibernation. Silent and whispering through the ice and snow. They talk to me and tell of their buried past. Rest they say. Rest my child. Sleep with us.

Sound of Silence

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence

-P. Simon, 1964

Is There a Way Out of Hell?

I can't stand those that say "life is what you make of it". It's simply not true and it's about as irritating to me as " dream big and shoot for the stars". Seemingly the majority of the population, particularly here in the U.S. share these sentiments, so i hear. Life is more about adapting to what the winds and waters throw at you. Let's be "realistic", we have all dreamed big and we would all like to think that we are the captains of our destiny, if there is such a thing. I think the harsh truth is that we are all boats out at sea, some with sails set high and ready for anything that mother nature might curse us with, some that don't care where the tides take them and drift aimlessly, and for the majority of the population there is the mixture of the two. Just boats out at sea, some are better equipped than others, some are faster, slower, weaker, stronger. You get it.

We as animals have so little control as to what we make of our lives. Sure we like to think that we can get a better education and make more money, build a better life with better things and faster download speeds. But life in the purest form is made up of connection for our self-centered species. The materialism, greedy and power lust that is all wrapped up in a warm egocentric blanket takes second as well. Connection, what we like to call love, is something that we cannot control and yet controls us totally. This hell that has been coded into our DNA since the existence of time. Our never ending need and desperation for something that is so far above our heads that most cannot and will never understand the structure of the emotion of "LOVE". Therefore; it is watered down to the physical sense and becomes nothing more than confusion of "love" and sex. Not to mention the confused tangle the two so completely and manage to weave a rope of egoism through the two and blame their ignorance on "destiny". "let's agree to disagree" and "it wasn't meant to be", but it started out so great and it always does.

The ocean waters just toss us around while we try to cling to whatever it is we have. So here i am, clinging yet at the same time tired and restless. You see, i know what love is. I like to think i do at least, this doesn't go to say that i can execute it with perfection. I'm dealing with 30 foot waves at the moment and my rage is trying to take on the waves rather than facing "reality" and allowing them to swallow me completely and get me out of this Hell. Drowning though is not the option i can take at this point in life, although in the back of my head, an Ophelian tide sweeps through me. Wouldn't it be nice if i could just turn it off? The connection i mean. To be happy never feeling again. To drift through life as a rock, this time not tossed by Neptune's wild horses, but stamped into one place at the bottom of some ocean floor. I am a rock, i am island... so the song goes.

What could be so bad with finding your lover in her arms? what could be so wrong with reading her words written to him, and his tender responses back. The same words he once wrote me drenched with flirtation and lust are now written to her. And this wave crashes against me and takes everything i had and washes it off deck. I know what love is; it's trusting that he is really at work and making a warm decadent dinner daily. Waiting for his return, his attention, building him a house and making it a home, getting so sucked into living for him that i forget of my own existence. Wait, i know what love is, i do? Another wave hits my bow and i long for defeat. The lies bombard me one after another. Does he really think i am that stupid? my heart races out of my chest. The excuses are for the ignorant and that i am not. I am just a tiny yacht fighting to stay afloat with not control over these seas. For him to take and take and take some more and never give back but to withdraw. Not even putting up a flight? No confession? Just an abandoned home of what was once a life built together. I fight with passion, rage and blood streaming down my face instead of tears...i am a shadow boxer. I am a deserted ship with the words "quantum fiducia fide honoris" written at the bow.

I look around and all i can see is water. Miles and miles. I don't know what is worse. the white room with no exit or this? This is what Hell is. It's knowing there is no way out with loneliness triggering our DNA to want more connection, we must have love. Falling victim only to the storm and asking that constant question; "what's it all for"? Perhaps those of us, the more evolved, have found land? But is that better than water? The chances of dying out at sea are greater, perhaps there is comfort in that? Perhaps "quantum fiducia fide honoris" should give up the fight with the blind and resign to the oceans depths where she can decompose and rest, finally.

Wait

I want to start writing about my grieving process as one would expect at this sour point in my life. To get it out by slitting my veins open on these pages with a butter knife and begin to pour vinegar into them to see what the reaction of the two could possibly create. To start writing metaphors for tears and how they are the equivalent to Pompeii. But something in me won't allow me to do that today. Perhaps a fight for my self preservation or perhaps it's the words that i read that are not my own that keep me coming back and writing. Just to see if i get a response from you. To bridge with you in a moment where i have been left alone and abandoned with nothing more than my thoughts which are guilty of taking my mind hostage and running my body through time and space like an old rag. I want to know who you are and where you are, what you do and why. you've fascinated me with your words, your small bits and pieces of tasty emotional morsels that i can feed off and relate to, so completely at times that i need not write but just read what you have written over and over again. like a truffle in the universe of life, i know you come with a heavy price tag. I wish i could talk to you and hear your voice, listen to your words and forget about all that ales me. I've had too much to drink, that sake waited up for me. Now i wait again. my dreams forge their own versions on my emotions and desires all drawn from desperation and self pity. Still i wait for more of your words on memorabilia, antiquities, titles in Latin and French, for more responses to get me through the day.

amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus

i can't even find the strength to write today. through my hurt, through the tears of lava, Jimmy was the only thing that came to mind. i can't help but think how much i hate the holidays and how much i don't and never will understand those that run away for the truth, from loyalty, honor and love. this headache didn't even allow me to drink...the numb buzz is enough to make me spin. i guess the bottle of dry sake will have to wait a day.

What Else Is There

???

Man

Mother, I remember what you told me once; of how I should grown up and become a man. Or of how I should have been a man from the beginning. But I refused to believe you and somehow, perhaps I need to listen. Oh how these godly hours remind me of how human I should appear. For that, I apologize. -HM

Jump

You're here. Come on, take my hand. Take it! Run, hold your breath, and jump.

Saint Anne

locks fall off

Snip. Snip.
I can feel the blades carve into the thin extension of what use to be my history. All together, tightly bound with a green rubber band, the kind you use to see on your morning paper. There it all lay in front of me lifeless and detached after so many years; my long blond hair. I wanted it all gone, all off. I needed to feel all of gross past being lifted off me like sin; a new start. I was going for Jean Seberg circa 1967 or Mia Farrow from Rosemary's Baby. Let the gender bending begin. I've always had the face for hair this short. I've had it this short when i was young...twice. I looked like a boy every time and yet i kept coming back for more. Third times the charm. Stupidly I kept it long to please him.

Fuck you men, here i am. Yes i had the balls to be "less feminine", to part with the matel barbie you made of me in your tasteless culture of global trash. Now instead of seeing a blond sex symbol you will first ask yourself if i am gay, just because you are that pathetic. Face it, women with looks and short hair scare you. It's our way of visually telling you that you can't pull our hair in bed, you won't have your way with us in your shallow head. My long flowing locks that once sat at my bust reveal who i am now and no long hid my existence. I will not submit to you moronic truths that have forged themselves on to the very way i look. You will have to deal with me, with the bare reality of who i am. No grand facade of whatever that latest victoria's secret magazine or GQ instilled into that cave man gray matter you received for brains.

Fuck you if you don't like it. it's because you don't know what a real woman should look like anymore that your member is limp and confused. It's because you don't want an equal but rather someone that will submit to your thigh-highed fantasies. I don't and never will. I need to have honesty and transparent truth in life and love and existence. I need to visually force you to see me so one day the visual sense can translate to the emotional and you will see the real me. The black or white me, the no gray area me that swims in loyalty and drinks passion. I am not the plastic and pink bullshit that America manufactured in a catalog. I'm that girl you call a European elitist because you are too uneducated and insecure about yourself.

the long last breath

You speak to me in riddles, you speak to me in rhymes
my body aches to breath your breath, your words keep me alive

Wintersleeper ...

Are you waiting for a miracle?
Are you waiting for a lightning bolt?
Are you waiting like a paranoid little boy?
Are you ever gonna come back home?
Do you believe that the sky is falling?
How you ever gonna pick up the pieces?
Do you really think that anybody will listen?
Do you really think that anybody will notice?

I used to dream about saving the world
Now i just dream about the holidays
I used to write so many songs for my girl
Now all i think about is floating away
I think I need a big vacation
I think I need a big vacation
I think I need a big vacation
Out of this place
-Wintersleep by search party



Perhaps you are the only one listening?Perhaps you are a wintersleeper too? You sent a search party to find me. In my darkness, you noticed, when all i want to do is fade away to distant lands where no one knows my name. You knew i needed a vacation out of this place. Why? Why would you care? Did I strike a cord?
You. Who are you? Do you exist and where? Yes, i need to pick up the pieces that shattered and rolled away to far off places. I can't seem to locate them. Should I even try? I would like to come back home, but i am too hurt and too far away to get there anytime during my life. Walking down a dark hallway that never seems to end by candle light seems to be my path. Perhaps it's just another level of Hell Dante didn't mention? Eventually i might see that place called home if only with a constant, slow, and painful limp. So it seems it be. This way and not the other. A "unique" (God how I hate that word) existance for those composed of one cliche after another. A Lego land of cliches all there to happily make up this pile of heaping dung.

Thank you

Whoever you are; i love you.

Locked

Locked in time. Feeling trapped in a realm with no answers and so resolution. Stillness of uncertainty, the calm of panic before the storm. That last breath one takes before thier heart skips a beat as they jump into some freezing Canadian lake. Then, contact: the shock and pain shake your mind and shatter your bones.

The end is hollow and empty with nohing but doubt and fear and pity. Look, look at you... Just look at you. Standing in a fog of nothing, in a grey mist of cold shivers, alone and isolated forever.
No baggage, no noise, no inner struggle. Just empty.

Satellight

Dear HM,

Your timing couldn't have been more perfect. It's all so mysterious to me and at times like this so clear. Perhaps we are all like satellites? Throwing our thoughts and being into a black hole, waiting for someone to pick up our signal. Not even expecting anything complex in response, but just an acknowledgment, a nod, a "yes i hear you", so that at the end of the day we know we are not the only square peg in a round world.

Just to know that there is another red dot on your radar traveling somewhere else but knows of your existence in a world devoid of logic, passion, clarity and truth.

An old friend once told me, "we are like satellites and now that our paths have crossed they will continue to do so". -mjk

Never

I want to get lost in my dreams and never find my way back

All

All the men I've loved have taken the joy out of my life. Sucked me dry of all that was ever good in me.

Bad

I am crawling out of my skin because I want you so bad. Just for a second, a half a minute, just touch my face and even that would be enough. I could devour you completely if you'd give me a glass of red and a chance.

NYC cosmo

A long strange trip stumbling through hole in the wall bars with the chic attending and the cool sloshing up alchemistic toxins to forget the thing ailing you most.

A laugh but not out loud (….lnol…..jesus.) -HM

An after thought inspired by My Egocentric Delights Blog called Somewhere over that goddamn rainbow

The dark circles under my eyes can't even begin to explain how i feel. Somewhere along the lines of an aged ape dragging it's knuckles along a long gravel road trying to reach water in the blazing heat. The wrinkles around my eyes embedded in the thinning skin remind me that as each day flies at the speed of light, i am still here, in the same spot i was 10 years ago, only older and still searching for that genius of inspiration. My thinning hair and mal-tempered ways are my irritation with myself and all i could be but am not. The dream never reached, not yet ( do i still carry some idiotic drop of hope?), and just tired of all the attempts, the ideas, the creativity that has sucked the life out of me. Too much too fast, like a sprint instead of a steady jog through life. Perhaps he's right. My memory fails me on his quote so i have to go back and find it, how i despise aging. Here, yes...

"It’s all a big joke. Leave now. Take off at top speed homeward and fix yourself a dry martini with four parts vodka instead of the usual two. And no olives." Harry Merkin

Why these words ring true to me? I can only guess that I have found that with age my passion has transitioned to drinking, consuming a foodie diet, and cooking rather than creating anything note worthy anymore. The flames of passion are out and surrounded by a dark and cold winter storm. Buried under thick ice, perhaps a fucking glacier at this point. Mentally I think that the four parts vodka are just a stiff does of reality but backwards. The reality being the four parts, hard and burning as it goes down. The irony of it all is that I would do it to momentarily forget that I suck. A dose of reality to kill the pain? So cheers... LNOL

Air

Your image tranquil day by day
lost in the depths of your blue bay

Knowing I to you am neither
Here, existing, in life's seether

Like a silence, never broken
Never taken, never spoken

Fused in air and fire and water
Two souls merge as Earth's daughter

At the edge of your divide
Til then I am gone, I will hide

Seek my being, search the world
Satellite here as a girl

Float

Float

It's not swimming, or sinking, it's survival. It allows time to think, to be on top or partially submerged, and breathe. Even if for a little while it is the calm before the storm, the survival during.

La nuit du chasseur

(La nuit du chasseur)

I was born of the womb of a poisonous man
Beaten and broken and chased from the land
But I rise up above it, high up above it and see
I was hung from a tree made of tongues of the weak
The branches, the bones of the liars and thieves
Rise up above it, high up above and see

Pray to your god, open your heart
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark
Cover your eyes, the devil's inside
One night of the hunter
One day I will get revenge
One night to remember
One day it'll all just end

(Un, deux, trois, cinq)
Blessed by a bitch from a bastard seed
Pleasure to meet you but better to bleed
Rise, I will rise, I will rise
Skinned her alive, ripped her apart
Scattered her ashes, buried her heart
Rise up above it, high up above and see

Pray to your god, open your heart
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark
Cover your eyes, the devil's inside
One night of the hunter
One day I will get revenge
One night to remember
One day it'll all just end

Honest to God I'll break your heart
Tear you to pieces and rip you apart
Honest to God I'll break your heart
Tear you to pieces and rip you apart
Honest to God I'll break your heart
Tear you to pieces and rip you apart
Honest to God I'll break your heart
Tear you to pieces and rip you apart

One night of the hunter
One day I will get revenge
One night to remember
One day it'll all just end


-30stm

L490

How i wish to live inside you
your thought, your creation
i can feel your being within
your core, your lust
i want to merge and thrust in waters
submerged, alone, there in your mind.