it's 11:10 and i'm wishing for spring

"there has to be a place better than this in heaven."

i just don't understand why the human concept of thought demands that we constantly long for things we don't have. 2pac said those words when he recorded thugz mansion in 1994. he was on top of the world, and yet not content. somedays i think all i need in life is a little green, a 40 of but heavy, a pack of reds, and a deck, just free from the dreams that make everyone convulse and twitch in the dark. then there are the moments where i want it all, the entire world, a meterial vision that makes me sick. why are we programmed to think this way? no one needs 249,999 dollars a year, a house with nine bedrooms, or six cars to survive. it's all a weak concept. i think it will all be so much more clear when the winter passes and the life returns to my bones. everything so much easier when the weather finally breaks allowing the ability to pass time in places other than in front of artificial monitors. i want to walk on the green grass and just pass the day. it's 11:10 and i'm wishing for spring. i hope it works.




listening to:
"Thugz Mansion NY" - Nas
"My Book of Rhymes" - Nas
"Star Wars" - Nas
"Tick Tock" - Alchemist
"Mo' Money, Mo' Murder" - Nas

someone has pulled the plug on my bathtub

often i use this as a place to vent my attempts at prose, but not right now. i feel empty all of a sudden, like someone has pulled the plug on my bathtub. one minute full of steaming, soapy water, the next an empty basin. lately i have been vacantly scanning my life for things that make me unhappy, unsuccessfully, for the first time in my life. however, i feel as if i was viewing the photograph with too narrow a lens, now i have gained a broader perspective. maybe it's the lack of sleep or maybe it's something else. i think i've grown numb. the sedatives we each choose make life too easy to watch slide by. i remember the days when we would climb buildings, scream our lungs out to thursday, go to garage sales, and just find things to entertain our growing minds. now i spend my life behind the wheel, parked, watching it all drift by. i want to be free. i feel like everything in life has been leading me here, the place where i split. right now it's as if i have two sides, which may be a gift from my bipolar, or maybe it's just the way things are, i really don't know. there is the side of me that longs to be free, longs to spend the rest of my days skating with an amazing beard, covered in tattoos, a forty in one hand, a cigarette in the other, tearing this small town apart. then there is the side of me that wants to grow up. cut the beard and the hair, wear a suit, fallow the american dream. i don't know, i don't know anything any more. don't count on me unless you're counting me out, and even then don't be so sure.


listening to:
fool in the photograph - sunny day real estate
subterranean homesick alien - radiohead
empires between us - the skies we built
the push game - sherwood
ann arbor - the get up kids
no children - the mountain goats
shield your eyes - jawbreaker
paint's peeling - rilo kiley

the compass has lost the needle

the winds are turning, i can hear the mast crack against the well-weathered wood that comprises the boom. this could just be a zypher crossing the broken face of the sea, or it could be more than that. for me i have constantly ended my thoughts with the simple phrase: the compass has lost the needle. it seems as though i'm wandering aimlessly though a crossroads, eyes open but pure white, marking my inability to make a choice about which road to descend upon. i'm growing ever weary of the martyrs and saints who silently scoff from the paths which they so painfully endure. carry a cross they say, as if whispers of demons were waiting to descend upon my skin at any moment. i reply with a look that proclaims my thoughts, i'd rather not have that cross if i ever have to run. i'm not saying i don't believe, i'm saying that i have no faith in an omnipotent being who gains the only gratification in life watching the toils of lesser beings. i believe in some things. i believe in her. she makes my hands shake and my stomach turn.




These are our Heroes - Nas
Live Forever - Keepers of the Carpet
Spread Your Love - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Helicon 2 - Mogwai
Brown Eyed Girl - Weezer (Cover)
The Realest Killaz - 2pac (feat. 50)
Handcuffs - Brand New
Sometimes, New Jersey - Saves the Day
Empty Bed - The Good Life

my brown eyed girl and pass the years.

i just read the words you put in print. i can assure you that this one will be different. i just want you to be my brown eyed girl and pass the years.

listening to -
hear you me - jimmy eat world

you might be the light.

pages turn as the seasons change and the factor that stays the same is you. always just out of reach next to the hourglass. close enough to matter and yet far enough to meander in the shadows. let's put down roots and you can sleep beside me. i'm attempting to sleep haphazardly, but you keep pacing through the tracks of my mind, disturbing the sand man in his monotonous work. you make me comfortable, like a porch by the sea. there is no inconvenience in you, there's no pulsing urge to be different, better. i just want to calmly grow old with you, and as we watch the years go by we can comment on how we thought things would be s different. right now, i look at the world and consider myself the most meaningless part, just a clove of grain in a sun-drenched field. consistency. i want nothing more for the sun to kiss my skin in the daylight while you kiss my lips at night, sleeping with the ocean keeping the record player company. it's one forty six, and the sleep at the corners of my eyes has been building and then falling through all evening, as perplexing as your name on my lips, slowly being turned over as i try to figure out what exactly it means. i feel like i've been driving the car in the game of life as some child, covered in cheeto dust and grape juice, numbly spins the wheel and moves my plastic chariot around the board. i keep arriving and then leaving, a ghost in the shadows trying to find some light. you might be the light. i just need to pull you closer.


now playing:
history of lovers - iron & wine and calexico
the animals were gone - damien rice
slow dancing in a burning room - john mayer
the lake - antony and the johnsons
all i need - radiohead
loneilily - damien rice
i wish that i was beautiful for you - darren hanlon

i'm all you ever wanted, what all the other boys all promised, shelter from cold

keys in my pocket, weiging me down as a tear open the door and feel the frigid air envelop my lungs. i'm awake, breathing steadily, smoke from my lips before the lighter in my coat is ever taken out, and looking for a reason. what the reason is could be anyone's guess. another day, and what will it hold? no half-hearted optimism here, we've gotten too old too quickly. vacantly i search, but do not find, that which i am looking for. maybe today i'll drive to class, no use in losing the feeling in my fingertips when there is gas in the tank. each choice laid out in front of my mind like a system of interconnecting pieces, a house of cards, building up until a gentle breeze licks upon it and kings, queens, and jacks all tumble to the floor. i need something, but i have as of yet to realize what that is. right now, i'm searching.

now playing:

okay, i believe you, but my tommy gun don't - brand new
hit of the search party - every time i die
eternal gates of hell - dead to fall
the mixed tape - jack's mannequin

i thought you should know.

as you know, well, the one person who steadily reads my thoughts and aspirations, i have been carefully constructing a novel. well, i still am. well, not exactly. you see, last night i had a revelation of sorts, and as if i was struck by lightining, i now have a more clear vision for what this novel will become. before i was chancing on half-hearted prose and semi-biographical storylines as i reflected back on the last few years of my life, now i have a concious idea of where to go, and i have created the story line and format for something no one has ever done before. what that ingredient is, i can not tell you, only that when this is completed, i will be pleased with having written something in a way that no one else before me has ever managed to accomplish. i am on the verge of writing the defining novel of our generation, or maybe just this sect of our generation, but, hemmingway would be jealous. i thought you should know.