Love Letter to Myself

I tried to write a book but I'm not a good writer. I tried to paint a portrait but doodles look like everyone. I've tried to speak and convey who I really am, all I see are blank expressions. I'm trying to think but I can't stop long enough to formulate a descent thought. Solitude is looking like a blessing, I'm dependent on the bad and risking my future. I've soaked it up, taken it in, now there's nothing left and I wonder; why it can't love me back? I'll forget it only for a minute like that good book on my shelf. I'll come back to it someday only to find that the cover is worn out, the pages have been folded and a note about how fucked up we all are is written on every page. I'm full of empty, high at night and blessed in the morning. I miss me.

(circa 2009)

Anything Shy of Chaos Is Just Boring

When I was little I watched tv shows and movies about heroes and villains. I would always root for the good guy, it never failed. I would wonder why I hated the bad guy so much, he or she is a person too with feelings and emotions. Yes, some of those feelings and emotions probably resembled something like hate and intended malice but there had to be a reason for it. Maybe they had abusive parents or experienced a series of traumatic events while growing up. I feel bad for the villain, I did when I was little and I do today. I've experienced what it feels like to be friends with a villain, who's main objective is to negatively effect one life at a time, ultimately resulting in a world full of Nancys. Maybe I'm giving too much credit, maybe some villains are just evil because they enjoy it, maybe it's a reason to get out of bed in the morning, or maybe anything shy of chaos is just boring.

Nom Nom

Aliens love Led Zeppelin.

Imagine sitting in a group of people and your back is turned to the darkness. Hearing a sound in the background, maybe it's smokey trying to play with the next door neighbor. I whistle, nothing. I whistle again and hear metal trays from the labor day BBQ. No smokey. Beer pong... sounds... what do you know? P.S. Vomit (not me ;)

Breaking Up, Just to Break it Down

As the Moon rises and I begin to retire, I can rest assured that the Sun will come out tomorrow and you'll still be a liar.