Waiting for You

I want to crush you,

and hurt you,

or in some way prove you deserve those things,

while maintaining my sense of morality.

which is at least a wall I can hide behind,

allowing my brain to roam free,

on the terrain of evil,

exploring peaks and valleys,

to learn where to hide and when to attack.

the calm that follows the anger is unfortunate,

stamping out the crime of passion,

when rationality can come back,

slowing my movements and thoughts,

returning them to human,

I know when shown everything wrong with the world,

I’m shown myself.

 

Doubts When You Can’t Sleep

I’ve either lost all hope or confidence.

There’s nothing left to do but keep up the routine.

I’m ordinary.

Words mean nothing to me now.

Forced Life

I remember when we were 18,
And life was only as interesting as we made it,
But we had little to make it,
There were drugs,
Punk rock,
Gang fights,
Broken windows,
Stolen cars,
Sexual assault,
Love,
And police,
To nudge life’s needle toward excitement.
But most nights were quiet,
Car rides and ice cream.
Or late night playgrounds.
We drove to Target,
To try to hit adulthood,
Where she left you behind.

Every action was motivated,
By a need to feel important.
In a life when a moment of silence,
Allows the loud march of the future,
To pound our heads to mush,
Until our skulls crack,
And we can feel inevitability,
The upcoming uncertainty,
Crashing around a small existence.

Finding

I’ve had a glimpse of the future,
It looks a lot like a spiral,
Or a silhouette,
But it reminds me of something much darker,
Of a road with no way to get back.
There’s a decision I have to make,
Regarding the future,
That eliminates the present,
And reduces the world to a point.
I may be withheld,
Determined to become what I fear.
There are infinity versions of me,
Wrapped around the world,
Waiting for time to catch one,
For the sun to burn a hole,
Of the present to make you now.
Until then I’ll hope,
That what is inevitable,
Will miss me.

Come Back Home

I’m driving straight into the sun,
At 6 pm on a Tuesday night.
It’s the worst time of the day to drive,
I’m in the middle of commute,
Blinded,
Distracted by the day.
I’m searching for my family.
But I’ve left them somewhere,
I can’t remember.
I’ve retraced my steps,
The street I grew up on,
My elementary school,
High school,
Friends houses,
Broken windows,
Stolen cars,
Gang fights,
Swearing and crying.
But I haven’t found anything worth keeping.
I’m not convinced I had a family to begin with,
Or just a collection of people burdened with keeping me alive.
I’m alone in my car,
Going back to my new apartment,
Near my new school,
Around my new friends.
There’s a message waiting for me on my phone,
It reads,
“Come back home”

Warm Hands

I’m back at my parents house,

where I lived ten years ago.

i first touched your knee in the driveway,

sitting in the passengers seat of your car.

you were telling me a story,

about your friends promiscuity,

and the confidence she had when she looked at me.

I didn’t notice she existed.

or the jealousy in your voice,

when your hand touched me the volume dropped out,

the music had shifted,

danced away from our presence,

making room for the coming explosion,

of love,

of fear,

of what we never expected.

 

I warch the  neighbor walking,

two of her old dogs,

slowly making the loop,

around the corner,

after I warmed to,

the idea of never come back.

Life decisions

Parents are the best reason not to become a parent.

Friends (not the show)

I get terrified for my friends. Many of them are artists in some shape. The thing about doing something crazy, like being an artist, is that life is very scary. No success is guaranteed. Besides fame, getting work isn’t guaranteed. For every Banksy, for every Tom Hanks, for every U2, there are millions who can’t even get a job. Some may be just as talented. Some may work just as hard. But it doesn’t matter. Random things hit and you’re little thing may not even be noticed.

But that’s okay. Because when you have a meaningful pursuit, the act itself makes it worthwhile, not any destination or accomplishment. I think most authors and musicians and scientists would agree that simply doing what they like is what gives them a sense of meaning, not recognition. At the same time I understand that struggle is discouraging and possibly debilitating. And in a moment of uncertainty or in the face of another failure, it’s easy to be weak, if just for a second, and forget. I worry my friends will give up. I worry because I see so many people, young and old, who have lost meaning and suffer every day. Whether the suffering is explicit or silent, the wear on life is the same. I’ve seen life without meaning and it’s empty. It might be possible to ignore but not fully. Everything is affected. Especially the other parts of life that give it meaning, like love.

Thoughts? and an email update

 

New band. Any thoughts? Top of the charts? Indie favorite? Worst band ever? Not your thing? I love this band. The album comes out in 5 days. I find every part of this song beautiful. It scares me.

It’s strange as I get older (I’m not old, but older), the thought of listening to people younger than me gets more and more odd/difficult. It’s not that I think younger people have nothing to offer, it just feels like I should think that. Even though I know better, the pull is there. I can think of it like this. Even if I read 100000 books and someone else has read 1, that 1 might be one I missed and it may turn out to be amazing. Experience shouldn’t count for everything. It’s possible to read a ton, live a full life, and still be able to learn from people who haven’t read as much or haven’t lived as much. I think it’s because I used to look to music as a guide when I was younger. The singers wrote about things I was experiencing for the first time or was expecting to experience soon. But now I’ve gone through most of the basics in life. Love. Death. Loss. Hurt. Joy. Meaning. Depression. Family. Marriages. College. Career. Plus, thinking about how to live is something I spend a good deal on, so looking for guides isn’t what I’m interested in anymore. I don’t really need them. What I can or should do is look for ideas everywhere. When I find one, challenge it and see if it survives. If it does, adopt it. It’s just hard to change my mindset when listening to music.

 

I think I should listen to Depeche Mode. Anyone have the hook up?

 

Lastly, the email problem I posted about a few days ago turns out to be all on my end. (Although, for some reason, all the email options were unchecked in the settings on wordpress as well.) At first I thought I had been hacked because I wasn’t getting any emails at all, not even spam, on that account. I finally figured out that the site I was using was ending email service. There was no email warning, I had to track down a twitter account and a post from December 2015, stating at some point email service would stop. Sort of a pain creating a new email and transferring everything over. The problem is, I never remember any passwords which you need to confirm an email change on almost every site. But I’ve got it mostly worked out. There are some accounts I haven’t changed yet, but I’ll get around to them if they are important enough.

 

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think below or send some of your favorite songs over. Especially if you’re a Depeche Mode super fan.

I’m a hypocrite

Life isn’t about finding yourself; it’s about creating yourself.

 

George Bernard Shaw

 

I don’t normally like quotes. I think they’re often oversimplified to appear to be insightful but are only relevant when they fit with a preconceived notion of how the world works. Sort of the same way dreams might mean nothing or everything, depending on how you want to interpret them.

That said, here I am quoting someone. I like the quote because it fits my idea of how the world works. My understanding of the quote is that it means we shouldn’t trying to figure out who we are, we should decide who we want to be and try to be that person. We have the control. It’s our responsibility to make that person happen. We won’t find the person we are without working to be that person. Finding it is too passive. It assumes that it’s like finding your keys. Finding a parking spot. Finding a new hat. But I see life and our character more like finding love. It’s not something people tend to stumble upon. Love is built. And who you are is built. Or it can be, if you want to be responsible. That makes it scary, though. Because if you fail, you have to shoulder the blame for who you are.

I want that responsibility. I want to be the one to blame if I fail. I don’t want an excuse.