"You already know there's no simple answer. Those kind of things don't exist for people like us.
"So what?
"I love you.
"So what?
"Should something change? I love you now, as you are. How could I know if I'd love some augmentation of you?
"So what?
"Stay the same? Continue aimless, goalless, and without purpose. Purpose is overrated. Shouldn't unconditional love be goalless anyway? No 'I love you but...' no 'I love you if...'.
"So what?"
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Happy birthday... Want to fuck?
As noted on our dry erase board, "Today is trash day... and Rose's birthday." What better juxtaposition to relate my feelings on this, my 23rd birthday. Coincidentally, I was still the one to drag the trash can out to the curb. Obviously, the first part of the message, written by me, was misunderstood. Who knew ten days could make such a difference? Maybe it's me.
I don't feel that 23 accurately represents my age. I feel old. At 23, am I already that bitter person who'd rather forget their own birthday? Twenty years ago, I was living in this house. Twenty years ago, I had a huge party with strawberry birthday cake, a Disney pinata, and, "I cut the cake all by myself." I now have memories spanning two decades.
On this day, twenty years ago, our neighbors' son was killed riding his bike down Riverside. I feel old.
Today, I start a new job, but fear it will be the beginning of so much more. But here I am, still sitting in my favorite spot and writing like any other day. A thought just hit me, "Is this my new year? Should I take this opportunity to resolve something?" Resolve something... interesting choice of words. I think that phrase deserves nothing but a resounding YES!
Where to start... which conflict deserves priority? It's obvious; 23 years and I can still rationalize thoughts like it was yesterday. Will that ever end? The decisions made in the next few hours will not only shape my day, but be memorialized until I'm too old to remember. Birthdays have their own special memory bank. Maybe that means I'm not as old as I feel.
I thought it about one person, but really it applies to almost everyone that might have a giving feeling today, "The only thing I was from you is the conversation we've been avoiding."
Fuck it, Happy Birthday to me.
I don't feel that 23 accurately represents my age. I feel old. At 23, am I already that bitter person who'd rather forget their own birthday? Twenty years ago, I was living in this house. Twenty years ago, I had a huge party with strawberry birthday cake, a Disney pinata, and, "I cut the cake all by myself." I now have memories spanning two decades.
On this day, twenty years ago, our neighbors' son was killed riding his bike down Riverside. I feel old.
Today, I start a new job, but fear it will be the beginning of so much more. But here I am, still sitting in my favorite spot and writing like any other day. A thought just hit me, "Is this my new year? Should I take this opportunity to resolve something?" Resolve something... interesting choice of words. I think that phrase deserves nothing but a resounding YES!
Where to start... which conflict deserves priority? It's obvious; 23 years and I can still rationalize thoughts like it was yesterday. Will that ever end? The decisions made in the next few hours will not only shape my day, but be memorialized until I'm too old to remember. Birthdays have their own special memory bank. Maybe that means I'm not as old as I feel.
I thought it about one person, but really it applies to almost everyone that might have a giving feeling today, "The only thing I was from you is the conversation we've been avoiding."
Fuck it, Happy Birthday to me.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Observer
"It's not that good; I've done better."
"No, it is. You underestimate yourself. It forces the observer to realize one day he will die.
What greater way to feel alive? What greater statement than the beauty in futility?"
"You see beauty in everything."
"I see beauty in you."
"And that's what kills me."
"Why?"
"It's not that you see beauty, it's that you refuse to see ugly. This transformation of futility to beauty causes you not to feel the pain that's at the core of existence."
"How can transformation of pain to beauty be wrong?"
"Because it's simply not real. It's a band-aid. It's concealer. You say I'm beautiful, you say I'm exceptional, but you don't want me. Why? Because that's pain, it's dirty and ugly. It's real life art that can't be lensed over. You love me as an idea, as something you can stand back and abstract into beauty, but you don't dare enter the painting. I have a red, velvet rope around me, placed by you, so I'm not touched, not damaged. I'm not art! You can't be an observer; that doesn't work. I can't make you feel alive. To live is to suffer; to be aware is to feel pain. To stand back and merely observe is denial."
"No, it is. You underestimate yourself. It forces the observer to realize one day he will die.
What greater way to feel alive? What greater statement than the beauty in futility?"
"You see beauty in everything."
"I see beauty in you."
"And that's what kills me."
"Why?"
"It's not that you see beauty, it's that you refuse to see ugly. This transformation of futility to beauty causes you not to feel the pain that's at the core of existence."
"How can transformation of pain to beauty be wrong?"
"Because it's simply not real. It's a band-aid. It's concealer. You say I'm beautiful, you say I'm exceptional, but you don't want me. Why? Because that's pain, it's dirty and ugly. It's real life art that can't be lensed over. You love me as an idea, as something you can stand back and abstract into beauty, but you don't dare enter the painting. I have a red, velvet rope around me, placed by you, so I'm not touched, not damaged. I'm not art! You can't be an observer; that doesn't work. I can't make you feel alive. To live is to suffer; to be aware is to feel pain. To stand back and merely observe is denial."
Thursday, June 5, 2008
You, I, 4er (writer's error)
New song...
Knew you shouldn’t
Didn’t mean you wouldn’t
But words won’t help your case
You look to me
But see right through me
You see her and I’m erased
The words come spinnin
The words come easy
That doesn’t mean she’ll stay
If words could save you
Then just maybe
Maybe this feeling will go away
I don’t know you
I don’t think I could
With all the words you misplace
I’m in the middle
But never central
All my words just float away
The words came spinnin
The words came easy
That doesn’t mean you stayed
If words could save me
Then just maybe
Maybe this feeling would go away
You say don’t breakdown
We're only human
If you don’t try then you can’t fail
You say sorry
Please don’t worry
But all your words just take sail
The words came spinnin
The words came easy
That doesn’t mean we’re ok
If words could save you
And save me too
Then maybe this feeling would go away
The words came spinnin
But I couldn’t use them
Today is not my day
The worst came spinnin
And I’m still reelin
Fillin up with pain
Knew you shouldn’t
Didn’t mean you wouldn’t
But words won’t help your case
You look to me
But see right through me
You see her and I’m erased
The words come spinnin
The words come easy
That doesn’t mean she’ll stay
If words could save you
Then just maybe
Maybe this feeling will go away
I don’t know you
I don’t think I could
With all the words you misplace
I’m in the middle
But never central
All my words just float away
The words came spinnin
The words came easy
That doesn’t mean you stayed
If words could save me
Then just maybe
Maybe this feeling would go away
You say don’t breakdown
We're only human
If you don’t try then you can’t fail
You say sorry
Please don’t worry
But all your words just take sail
The words came spinnin
The words came easy
That doesn’t mean we’re ok
If words could save you
And save me too
Then maybe this feeling would go away
The words came spinnin
But I couldn’t use them
Today is not my day
The worst came spinnin
And I’m still reelin
Fillin up with pain
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Down
A new song... about many people...
Start wherever, something clever
Like the stars up in the sky
Didn't miss our first kiss
Like you said you saw me cry
Sitting, smoking, thinking, joking
Is that when you saw through me
I can't forget how we met
And the way things came to be
Build me up, tear me down
All these words won't make a sound
Fill me up, I'll overflow
And leave me with nowhere to go
Build me up, tear me down
All these words don't shift your ground
Pick me up, let me go
Too many things we'll never know
Not together, for forever
If that ever rolls around
Here without you, all about you
I know that you hate that sound
But I can't stop what I am not
What I never could be
Even never can't last forever
So where does that leave you and me
Build me up, tear me down
All these words won't make a sound
Fill me up, I'll overflow
And leave me with nowhere to go
Build me up, tear me down
All these words don't shake your ground
Pick me up, let me go
Too many things we'll never know
Start wherever, something clever
Like the stars up in the sky
Didn't miss our first kiss
Like you said you saw me cry
Sitting, smoking, thinking, joking
Is that when you saw through me
I can't forget how we met
And the way things came to be
Build me up, tear me down
All these words won't make a sound
Fill me up, I'll overflow
And leave me with nowhere to go
Build me up, tear me down
All these words don't shift your ground
Pick me up, let me go
Too many things we'll never know
Not together, for forever
If that ever rolls around
Here without you, all about you
I know that you hate that sound
But I can't stop what I am not
What I never could be
Even never can't last forever
So where does that leave you and me
Build me up, tear me down
All these words won't make a sound
Fill me up, I'll overflow
And leave me with nowhere to go
Build me up, tear me down
All these words don't shake your ground
Pick me up, let me go
Too many things we'll never know
Friday, May 16, 2008
I talk in math
GIRL:
There are two colours in my head.
There's a gap in between;
Because we separate.
That's a strange mistake to make.
I am up in the clouds and can't come down.
Watching all the ground beneath me drop.
I've given all I can, it's not enough.
BOY:
That there, that's not me.
Just cause you feel it doesn't mean it's there.
Go and tell the king that the sky is falling in, when it's not.
You are not to blame for bittersweet distractors.
This is how I'm saying goodbye, cause I can't do it face to face.
GIRL:
I got the message I can't read; another message I can't read.
BOY:
You're living in a fantasy world.
Your future's bleak.
GIRL:
I don't wanna be your friend; I just wanna be your lover.
BOY:
No matter how it ends?
No matter how it starts?
When you go forwards, I go backwards
GIRL:
And somewhere we will meet.
You are all I need!
You and no one else.
BOY:
Please could you stop the noise!
You do it to yourself; that's why it really hurts.
GIRL:
You will be the one who cannot talk.
That's it sir, you're leaving?
Give me sunshine, make me happy!
And if I could be who you wanted all the time?
BOY:
Nice dream.
I couldn't look you in the eye.
I don't belong here.
I spoke too soon.
GIRL:
I wish I was bulletproof.
What would I do if I did not have you?
BOY:
Go to sleep.
There are two colours in my head.
There's a gap in between;
Because we separate.
That's a strange mistake to make.
I am up in the clouds and can't come down.
Watching all the ground beneath me drop.
I've given all I can, it's not enough.
BOY:
That there, that's not me.
Just cause you feel it doesn't mean it's there.
Go and tell the king that the sky is falling in, when it's not.
You are not to blame for bittersweet distractors.
This is how I'm saying goodbye, cause I can't do it face to face.
GIRL:
I got the message I can't read; another message I can't read.
BOY:
You're living in a fantasy world.
Your future's bleak.
GIRL:
I don't wanna be your friend; I just wanna be your lover.
BOY:
No matter how it ends?
No matter how it starts?
When you go forwards, I go backwards
GIRL:
And somewhere we will meet.
You are all I need!
You and no one else.
BOY:
Please could you stop the noise!
You do it to yourself; that's why it really hurts.
GIRL:
You will be the one who cannot talk.
That's it sir, you're leaving?
Give me sunshine, make me happy!
And if I could be who you wanted all the time?
BOY:
Nice dream.
I couldn't look you in the eye.
I don't belong here.
I spoke too soon.
GIRL:
I wish I was bulletproof.
What would I do if I did not have you?
BOY:
Go to sleep.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Writer's Error
Section from a new piece I'm working on...
I was wrong, there is a One. A lonely me. This book is about me and only me; interactions from my life. Unique irises and fingerprints make cameos, but I will not pretend to understand or know their experiences and feelings. ‘I’m not who you think I am,’ is merely a fact relevant and true to any two people at any time. We are shaped by life experiences, and our life experiences are shaped by human interaction. Our minds make assumptions, or draw conclusions based on past experiences. No matter how convincing an argument, inevitably what we say will fall victim to our listener’s past experiences. Not only that, our arguments are victims of our own pasts. Does that mean I’m looking for a proof that doesn’t exist? Our whole lives are made up of contradiction. Is awareness of contradiction absolution from it? Perhaps convincing another oxygen sponge of something is all we have.
These are the set of factors which limit our ability to truly understand no another. But the main contributing factor is this. These 26 characters with 40 phonetic sounds are our limiting enemies.
My central example: “The only truth is that there is no truth.” I’d like to think this is true. I’m sure you can think of more, but the preceding paradox is proof of how powerfully pathetic our practice of proofs prove to present. No one will ever truly know anyone else. I think I’m good with that. I don’t think you’ll understand me by reading this. Just as with life, things will inevitably be left out. I can hope, however, that you’ll see yourself in some of my stories. Then I’ll inevitably say or do something that you won’t agree with. You’ll feel betrayed. Thought betrayal.
I was wrong, there is a One. A lonely me. This book is about me and only me; interactions from my life. Unique irises and fingerprints make cameos, but I will not pretend to understand or know their experiences and feelings. ‘I’m not who you think I am,’ is merely a fact relevant and true to any two people at any time. We are shaped by life experiences, and our life experiences are shaped by human interaction. Our minds make assumptions, or draw conclusions based on past experiences. No matter how convincing an argument, inevitably what we say will fall victim to our listener’s past experiences. Not only that, our arguments are victims of our own pasts. Does that mean I’m looking for a proof that doesn’t exist? Our whole lives are made up of contradiction. Is awareness of contradiction absolution from it? Perhaps convincing another oxygen sponge of something is all we have.
These are the set of factors which limit our ability to truly understand no another. But the main contributing factor is this. These 26 characters with 40 phonetic sounds are our limiting enemies.
My central example: “The only truth is that there is no truth.” I’d like to think this is true. I’m sure you can think of more, but the preceding paradox is proof of how powerfully pathetic our practice of proofs prove to present. No one will ever truly know anyone else. I think I’m good with that. I don’t think you’ll understand me by reading this. Just as with life, things will inevitably be left out. I can hope, however, that you’ll see yourself in some of my stories. Then I’ll inevitably say or do something that you won’t agree with. You’ll feel betrayed. Thought betrayal.
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