poetry project #10: easily forgettable

once i walked too close to the edge of the sidewalk
the faint sound of footsteps in the night air
the light halo the moon gave my shadow

i could feel the wind beneath my soul
as i stepped off the earth

i descended into the depths of confinement
as my vitality transcended into the darkness
torn apart from the emptiness

i became aware that i had never really lived
but mourned a life that i had taken advantage of

somehow in the nocturnal breeze
as i began to fade into obscurity
i felt easily forgettable

poetry project #9: 深夜の幻想 (late night reveries)

sometimes late at night

when i can't sleep

i like to imagine you

next to me

the warmth of your soft skin

at my fingertips

the faint glow from the television

as it illuminates your body

and the comfort of your eyes

looking back at me

that look alone

can settle my heart

and melt my soul

late at night

when i think i'm alone

you're still with me

it's funny

the things we take for granted

yet any second with you

is something i treasure

more than you realize

if only you were really here

i know i'd sleep in peace

instead of the long nights

with my eyes wide shut

imagining you here

life's contradiction

Sorrow - Life's Contradiction by Sorrow

sedated with darkness

Sorrow - Sedated with Darkness by Sorrow

when the comfort of being alone wears thin [11/30/2010]

i remember in college, after my first room mate moved out, how i felt absolute freedom. how growing up i had mostly kept to myself, and approaching the path to adulthood i knew that i just wanted to be alone with my thoughts, and to not worry about the pressure from others around me. sure i had friends growing up, though i know i was mostly silent. i was a conscientious observer. i silently watched others enjoying their time, and i sat alone, watching from the outside writing in my head. i'm sure there have been a number of poems, songs, and stories that have eluded me over the years. yet i was always too afraid to get close. maybe i knew when i pulled someone in too far that something would happen. i don't deal with change very well. i guess most people don't, but for me change seemed to be as if i woke up and found that the world had morphed into a cube and the sky had become red with hellfire. maybe i over exaggerate. but i guess change for anyone has been hard. so i found solace in my thoughts, in art, in writing... really any medium rather than sharing my thoughts with others. i didn't have any siblings in the house growing up, i wasn't allowed to have many friends over, if any few at best. so i guess i learned to rely on myself more than anyone. i'm not saying solitude was all that great. as i reflect i realize how lonely of a person i was within. maybe it was the fear of being to close and being hurt, left, or even abandoned. so when i had a first relationship, and found that i could open up to someone, share my thoughts with them... it became my world. maybe not the relationship itself. in the long run that didn't work, and i was hurt in the long run. but realized that i didn't always have to bottle everything up, and deal with it myself. perhaps it was nice to just have an ear to listen. after being hurt a few times, and growing older, i found that living alone was far easier. i could allow someone to enter stage left for a few hours, have a few laughs, find romance... but in the end i could exit them stage right, and that was the end, i was left to reflect on my own thoughts. for some reason i really enjoyed being alone as depressing as that may sound to most. but i also lived a life of depression that was far greater than someone on the outside could understand. so i guess at that point being two thousand miles away from family and friends, i had time to reflect on life, take hikes, go out to eat, sit by candle light and write cheesy poetry. in the long run though i felt something missing. maybe as you get older and get more involved with relationships you take for granted having someone objective give advice and still have the feeling of comfort and realization that you don't have to be alone in life you can share your thoughts and feelings with someone else. as i've grown older i've made plenty of mistakes with relationships. my exwife alone is a prime example. we shared too many of the same qualities, which also lead to our downfall, we thought alike and at times butted heads like rams. perhaps i just wanted someone that was in that dark place as i to share in the moment. though not everything was meant to last. i'm not saying i didn't care for her, but we wanted too far different out of life. i'm a quiet person, a fun night for me is watching a bad movie, having a few drinks, and having a great conversation. i guess i felt that all the partying was out of me, and since i had lived a pretty secluded life, that perhaps someone else could share in the same with me. ten years later, three major relationships down the shitter, i reflect on how much a mistake that was. and how selfish it was to not want to give into others desires, but rather keep leading the simple secluded live i endeared. part of growing older is gaining wisdom from past mistakes. i jumped fast into most relationships, because as secluded as i chose to be, it was a rarity to find someone that wished to settle down. funny, when i say for the good part of ten years i've yet to approach a woman in public, sure i've been flirted with... which i never quite know how to react to. but in text, on a single screen, i could lay myself out before someone. let them into the world that i keep locked away. not my home, or even my heart, but where the thoughts flow faster than water. in text i could find a voice that i didn't have in public. so relationships came and went all because of this device i'm sitting at now. you may be surprised that there others out there like this. you can make friendships, find sex if that's what you so desire, or even a relationship can spawn from late night conversations. go figure, in the real world i had tried this, and failed miserably. but in text, it didn't matter how i was on a first impression, i didn't have to worry about not meeting their expectations. i didn't have to worry if a woman thought i was unattractive, or boring... here i could make an impression that far exceeded what they wanted in real life. though i found ways to manipulate it to my advantage. sex is the easiest to find in any form. sex is in a public bar sitting on a stool, lonely lost in the bottom of bottle heartbroken, just as sex is a tear ridden woman hurt for the millionth time chatting away her emotions in a text box. but i guess sex was never really the issue, whether i picked up a girl at a party, or online, i knew the way to read her. i knew the broken signs to look for, after all, who better to read signs of advantage than someone that has been broken themselves. but in the long run it fulfills a momentary desire, and the truly conscious feel bad for the actions they took, not wanting to give false hope to someone else. maybe it was a defense mechanism, i get dumped on and cheated in most relationships so i take advantage of what i can find. not caring whose emotions i run over. all in all it comes back to being alone. feeding a desire is the easy part. pushing yourself to get up to work, takes more work, but it's still the easy part. but how is that no matter how well the day went, even how great the night has been in someone's company, that falling asleep alone is the hardest part. before, when i was young, without a care in the world, i wouldn't have understood this. i was used to being alone. i thought i was all i ever needed. but ten years of relationships, despite how few or many there have been, i realize that even though i enjoy some time alone, it's not what makes me content anymore. it's amazing that i can spend my time in the company of someone i find attractive, that i can share words, a glass of wine, or even just have someone to relfect on a movie with and have a descent conversation; but when the night comes to an end and the people exit your life like a play and your left alone, how truly alone you really feel. now i thought that's what i wanted, right. i have those enter and exit at my whim, and spend my time to myself to contemplate life. that's not a life. it's more like a countdown to death, as you watch the clock idely passing time, and you with no one around you. i really don't think much of this would bother me, you wake up go to work surround yourself with others, go to a friends have a beer and talk, watch a fight on tv. but when i go home at night. laying in an empty bed with only a pillow to hold close, i realize that my wants in my childhood, or no longer what i want as i see myself growing older. maybe i'm not that old yet. but envy those that have someone in their arms for ten years or longer or fewer. i realize the mistakes i've made in my past. how i didn't really make the relationships work, or give them much a chance, or worse yet those that seemed to really care i pushed away in fear. because now when i have someone i know my emotions run deep for, i probably seem like a needy leech, because i hold on for dear life and hate seeing them leave my home. it's nothing selfish, maybe it's an ocd i've grown over the years, but who doesn't want love? who doesn't want someone to hold all night, and better yet to have someone wake in your arms in the morning. i took so much for granted in the past, but damned if i wouldn't do things different with the wisdom i've gained over the years. it's not about a want, or a need at this point of my life, but simply what i do have to offer. funny when i was a kid, i was happy enough with a teddy bear, now in my old age it's been replaced with a pillow... and it just doesn't have the same comfort of the sweet smelling warm skin i can hold under arms at night. i find it strange that i can bring tears to someones eyes in the comfort of a moment, holding them close, feeling their skin pressed against my lips. but alone at night the tears that run down face aren't of joy and ecstasy but a longing for that moment once more. damn i think too much. so what can be said, the comfort of being alone has worn thin, i have learned from my past, and i carry on. i carry on for that moment when my heart feels complete, and the tears i wipe away are those joy not sadness. to all i bid you goodnight, and remember to hold on to what you have, in the best or worst of times, life gets hard for us all... but imagine a life without that loved one by your side at night.

poetry project #8: bleak

vintage seduction

are only memories

that fade to dust

when exposed

to the light

shining through

an empty soul

poetry project #7: false comfort

late at night

when the lights are out

and i lay alone

with the faint sound

of trains passing

i place a pillow

against my back

and close my eyes

and dream she is there

no one special

she may not exist

but as stressed

as the day can be

the thought of being alone

is usually too much to bear

i imagine the years passing

as i drift to sleep

wondering if this figment

is all that can keep me going

night after night

growing old and withered

with the comfort of an imagination

to hide the pain

of an infinite sadness

that grows weary with the years

thinking when my time grows close

and i take my last gasp of air

i bet i wished i seized the night

instead of the wasted years alone

poetry project #6: what if

late one night sitting in the summer heat chainsmoking
gazing through the darkened haze at the stars above
the light radiated through obscurity like a vivid illusion
a cool breeze carried the smoke across the sky
in the brief moment i uttered a silent confession
as my friend sat down his nightly elixir of escape
he shook his head staring at me wondering what dream i called out to
i sat back silent, i was contemplating a childhood crush
a brilliant admiration that i only wished tangible
as the stars began to blossom across the heavens
i could clearly see her eyes and the smoke shifted into her hair
remembering a similar night in my youth her vision was still just as clear
you know, it's amazing how some things never leave you
and how such nights can bring them back
i chased the whatifs in the nightly sky as a star shot across
i closed my eyes in that brief moment and i could hear her voice
like a fool in my childhood never exclaiming my admiration
i vowed that night, as i made my wish, to take a chance and to live in the now

poetry project #5: the peril of cancellation

how much time has really passed
when you click into the deviations
of memories past to obscure your mind
with the unfortunate truth
that their present is flourishing
and yours is left in hiatus

like a bad tv sitcom
you tune your reciever in
for the disappoinment
that you've been cancelled
yet their life has been renewed

if only you could get a cameo
an extra in a scene
one spoken line
so your presence could be known

yet what would you say
nothing to offer
when their lives aspire
and your future seems obstructed

stargazing to the heavens
wishing you could change a rerun
but we all know it's imprint in time

so i recline back and watch my life over
as theirs continues on, wishing i was her equal in the lead

complications of the mind, my daily peril

poetry project #4: mute

i sit here late at night
moment after moment refreshing my mind
screen of a thousand pixels
lets me peer into others lives
alone i sit abandoned
wondering who shares my pain
i find thoughts and dreams
of holding someone close
are what makes me thrive

yet alone in conversation
i peer into others thoughts
to find minds that think alike
but distant by communication
used, tattered, and emotionally distressed
what we sought in our own shattered disillusions
we sought from salvation in text

finding nothing but heartache and turmoil before us
we know nothing of each other
words to a screen are unspoken
faded and slightly jaded
yet mute to each others pain

poetry project #3: the void

once upon a time
in land decadent and diseased
there was a young boy
with a heart pure of fire

one frightfully tepid day
as he meandered languishly
through a labyrinth of chaos
he tripped over a rotted corpse

confused he starred through the empty eyes
hypnotized into an empty void
a sullen future of solitude was shown
a life of torturous proportions

a mist began to surround him
as he examined the deteriorated body
a shiny pistol lay in the hand
and the haze began to penetrate his thoughts

an obscured vision fell before him
as the pistol began to levitate
the implication was evident
the pistol was not destruction but a savior

as he stared into the infinite darkness
the hollow end of fate
with a silent breath he uttered forgiveness
then he closed his eyes

poetry project #2: i created xXemoXx when you were just a nutstain in your daddys underwear

children hard at work to suffer
in the mist of darkness with only a tear to shed
covered in black they hide their faces
fake facade stolen from the misfits
malcontents that wouldn't know punk
if it bitch-slapped their mother
while the devil sodomized their father
high pitched moans of melodrama
rejects from a gothic world lost
you want a story of unblemished love
i created emo when you were just
a nutstain in your daddys underwear
does that make your soul bleed black
to realize your angst is unoriginal
then go ahead, slash your pain out
if you think the world doesn't understand
but don't bitch to me until you've lived
my lucid lithium nightmare
and walked amongst the living dead
in a real padded cell of fear
fuckin' pussies

poetry project #1: hole in my soul

i tried to kill myself today
inside my own mind
the pain tore a hole
right through my soul
now the demons won't stop pouring out
i tried to mend the cut
with cocaine blues
and stream-lined alcohol
but they just seemed to
instigate the pain
now i'm empty
staring right through my shell
the demons took everything
and left me here to die
i should be happy
i brought this upon myself

though i'm broken, it doesn't mean i'm defeated [5/28/2010]

You really wanted to me mess up, you should have got to me earlier. ~High Fidelity (2000)

Lately I sit here in this myriad of movie marathons that seems themed with fucked up relationships. Whether it's watching High Fidelity for the tenth time in a week, or Prozac Nation, or Wirey Spindell (or for that matter any Eric Shaeffer movie); I can't help but wonder where I really fucked up in my own life. Perhaps it's this unwaivering desire to actually work on my own life, so I tune into the fucked up relationships that everyone else has seemed to have to work through. Honeslty I start to wonder exactly what love is, and if there really is any hope, or am I doomed to this solitude I find myself in. Sometimes I have this desire and wish that I could be an atypical man, that just has this desire to fuck without any real emotion and dump before there is any connection. Guess I'm too weak in the heart for that sort of pain though, I mean sure I've had my drunken nights, found a vulnerable girl online and after the deed was met before she could really know who I am, more or less even a last name I bolted through the door without ever looking back. Hell, I know guys that live their entire lives doing this sort of thing, yet I just felt dirty and sleazy. Though a life without emotions would be easier, wouldn't it? I mean never having to look someone straight in the eye, have that momentary lapse of reality, and realizing that you could fall so deep into this person that you never want to come back up and breathe. I mean that's love... a suffocated feeling of emotion that wraps her arms around you and gives you comfort that you only thought was only written in story book fantasies. Then again, eight months of being alone is starting to draw pretty thin. Sitting here watching High Fidelity for the tenth time, watching John Cusak recant his top five list of fucked up heartache, makes me realize that even though I was with my last girlfriend for five years, she really didn't make the top five, definate contender for the top ten, but not my top five. It's that top five that really shapes who you become, and how you deal with relationships in your life. If you jump in with a whole heart or stray away from any true commitment like marriage. I envy those that found their true one in high school or college, I can't image at 31 anyone having their ten year anniversary, sorta boggles my mind to think that I could spend that length of time with anyone person; mind you it's not that wouldn't give anything to have that feeling, it's just I know my own reality, and it just was never possible. I mean seriously if I had stayed married to my first wife, I'd be looking at the big ten next year. Though that never happened. Think she seems to fit every my wife joke that Rodney Dangerfield ever threw to the mic. It was probably my poor choice in relationships though. I think I was so fucked in the love department, that I looked for women far more fucked than me thinking I could somehow fix their pain and create the perfect love story. Instead it was more like a horror movie mirrored with a tragic love affair. Now I sit alone in this house wishing I had what others had, the poor choices of my reality. Probably why I spend hours watching themed movie marathons, writing far too many poems, and worse yet... now blogging. Oh the tragedy of reality. Okay so in proper prospective I'm sure things could be far worse, think of this as alone time to set new goals and find the one that would truly enjoy your company and do their best to understand you. But honestly there was a reason I was with my exgirlfriend for five years and never got married. I guess it's a culmination of my top five that led me away from wanting to get completely tied to someone that I knew that would stop their love for me. Besides after the first year I was laying awake one morning staring at her wondering why I had pushed so fast in the realationship and how did I stick myself in the position. I knew she was here more for my kids than for me. She even admitted it after our tragic end. She loved them, and her love for them, kept her here in a mother figure rather than the wife counterpart that I desperately needed. Though at this point it doesn't really matter, I think it's the alone time that gets my mind wandering too much, and makes me wish I had someone to keep me level and bring my head out of the clouds and keep me grounded. I sit here watching the heartache on the screen revisiting my top five wondering if things had been different what sort of person would I be today. I guess it's bad to sit here with the 'what ifs' when you really are not doing anything to change your present. There is no need for names to the top five, I'd do anything to erase them, but it's better that they are engrained, at least to some degree. But it also makes me fearful. To have your first true love, (though at this point of my life I call it puppy love, though with a manic depressive person such as myself it seemed the world at the time), to have that person slide their moist thighs around your best-friend when you rejected them knowing all they wanted was to give the relationship a 'true end'. Yeah that started it all really. My downward descent, my lack of trust for the female species that I am still drawn and addicted to. A weaker man may have become gay in fear that the same would happen again. Losing your virginity to someone that was reluctant because she was still obsessed over her last love. Instead sex became an addiciction. You know like that first line of coke, you snort it in a bathroom with some buddies and as your pupils dialate and your blood runs thin, everything becomes numb. That was sex to me, an other drug, and even though my dealer was a sultry vixen, and I'd give anything for one more hit of her moist thighs; I knew it was killing me inside. I knew it was wrong, I knew she was just toying with me. Yet you always go back for one more line, I went back for just one more fuck. Before you know it instead of rehab, your sitting idle in a mental hospital after trying to off yourself because the guilt had finally gotten to her, and she knew she could never love you after hurting you so much. You try to move on, find a new dealer of love, usually in the wrong places. You become numb in the fixation and in moments

of vulnerability you prey on those that are in the disposition as yourself. You slide into them, with a single orgasm you feel your fears leap from you for a single moment. Until reality hits. You see the dialation in their eyes, their yearning for more, and you quickly pull your pants up running for their door. Glad you never said your last name, and never bothered to get close enough to know anything else about them. Knowing if you took ten more minutes you might be drawn into their web. That was life, feeding a sensation rather dealing with the purity of the heart that you knew you desperatly wanted and feared. When you finally meet someone that makes your heart leap, when you suddenly lay next to someone for more than a moment, thinking you feel complete. You fool yourself with marriage. Though more than anything they just were as fucked as you and eventually leave you, after heartache, and drama that would get banned from a UFC pay-per-view. It's funny but everytime my exwife and I fought I could here mexican commentators in my mind calling the shots as if we were the friday fight night on telemundo. Fucked up thing, I hardly know spanish. Yeah thought that would be a good laugh. At one point I wanted love so much that I fell for someoene I hardly knew, met online nonetheless. Thought to myself hey this is how those cheesy eharmony commercials started out, 'we met online, had so much in common, now we're sooo in love'... I have to laugh out-loud, I seriously wonder what the statistics really are of those relationship actually lasting past a year. I mean I fell in love online, fell in love in reality, spent far too much getting engaged and in the matter of six months shelled out money I couldn't afford for an elaborate wedding to get dumped a month before we took our vows. I remember the look in her eyes. No emotions whatsoever. As if I was nothing. She had a better offer, and ran for dollar signs, rather than what I thought was pure. So people wonder now at this point of my life why I've become

bitter. You know it's not so much bitter, we all have our own stories, we've all been stood up, left, at least in some capacity. But I can't help but want more. Yes I realize at 31 I'm not so old, I still have the opportunity to meet the 'right one'. For all I know she could be reading this now and not even realize she is 'the one', yet. But I'm drawn to this pain. More so I guess lately it's nice watching a movie, and laughing saying, hell yeah i've been there. Now I know there will be those that come and go from my life, I'm just longing for the one that wants to stay around at least one lifetime you know. I say eight months I've been sitting here alone. I still try to escape and try to have hope. But meaningless sex is quite bothersome at this point, finding women that want no attachment, I'm probably the worse person to slam to your bed to fuck. Because now I'm the one being run out on. Damn karma. I guess I can end this rant with a reference back to the original quote above. It's not that I didn't completely love her for the five years, and though we grew apart, it's just you can't fuck up someone that's already been fucked up. Though who knows I may be proven wrong with the next woman that finds an interest in me. So with that thought, even though I'm broken, it doesn't mean I'm defeated. I shall persevere, and have some hope that the next moist thighs that wrap around my torso, are the last and only drug I'll ever need.

curious objective observers [4/11/2010]

“You can observe a lot just by watching.” ~Yogi Berra

Everyday I find the world more fascinating through objective eyes. Strange world of social networking has a way of bringing past friends to the forefront, and even those you may have known but never really knew. Maybe I'm the latter of the two, I was the quiet one in the background watching peoples life's pass before me, and I just kept notes on how they were. Never really shared much of myself, maybe I was still trying to understand my place in the stars, so I kept my head up there, and away from most. I'm sure there are those that I was close with that would say I never shut up. But hey, they were far and few between, those I actually let myself go with. Though, where are they now? In a time I feel that I need friends the most, I see how my seclusion left me from being part of many people's lives. Maybe that's what gets me now. Needing someone to talk to about my pain, my past, the present that haunts me greatly. It was probably about twelve years ago when I made my first webpage. Far before this social networking nightmare that leads us through constant daily status updates. I found it was easier to reach out to the unknown, those that never really knew me, but could objectively view my life; and perhaps just perhaps they knew where I was coming from. Funny I have found love through the text, I have spawned relationships, all through this strange world. I have friends I can go to daily yet I've never met. Even found love with someone that has followed me through this world from day one, yet we've never met; a million miles apart, yet bound by text half our lives, we'll probably never meet. Funny world this is. But it's unreal. It's pictures, video, text on a screen... nothing tangible. Earlier I said, in a conversation with someone I met online ten years ago yet have never even spoken to in the 'real' world, how I wonder how many people actually read these notes or poetry I have put up. How many objective observers are actually curious what goes on in my life, regardless if their words are ever spoken. I wish I had a way to track it, to know who really cares but never shares a word with me. You'd be honestly very surprised how many of your lives I check in on daily. How many status updates I read, how many pictures I view, how I truly care even if we were never that close. We may never speak again, we may have nothing to say to one another, but just know that you have a friend here that watches your lives objectively and will always care.

Well objective observers, I have court tomorrow, which in itself is a long story. Nothing I want to do at all, but I will lose full custody of my children. I hate the pain I have to deal with, especially when it comes to my ex-wife. She never cared to be a mother before, for five years I had my children, now her mother is taking them from me, all at the hands of vicious lies. Definitely a FML moment.

to understand me is to hate me [4/10/2010]

Disappointments are to the soul what a thunder-storm is to the air. ~Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller

It's funny how we set ourselves up for the greatest of disappointments in life. Yet this seems to be my daily struggle. I share far too much here, yet without care, most chose to ignore... usually better that way. Lately I feel so alone. In the matter of a week, I am managing to lose custody of my children, and hold the fear that I don't know when I'll get to see their precious faces again, and hope more than anything that they do not hate me and feel abandoned. I have had a friendship with someone come to an end, probably my closest friend in the last eight years, I can not deal with it anymore. Even here in a land of text met someone that I thought I could connect with, but like here, through status updates and daily notes I share far too much of myself, and fuck that up as well. Is it wrong to want more out of life? To wish more than anything that day after day solitude doesn't have to follow you? I'm at my wits end and just ready to give up. Some hate the drama of these updates. So most choose to ignore, forget, or delete. I don't blame them. It's easy to become pathetic in your own wants, desires, and dreams. I'm just ready to give up on everything. I can't handle this anymore. I want something that I can't seem to grasp, I have aspirations for my future, things that I want accomplished... yet I manage to fuck them all up. I went from a house of five to a house of none, seeing how despondent I have become. Friends appear like characters on a tv show, to stay for an act, utter a few catch phrases and disappear exit stage left. Love and relationships, end in tragedy, like a sick, twisted, fucked up tv movie of the week. Friendships diminish as you realize you only had common bonds in the past and there is nothing there to hold you connected except the blunt and a few hobbies you share. When I even manage to see light at the end, and feel better about the day, I manage to bring up fucked up shit from my past, thinking it's rather okay to share. Instead, when someone barely knows you wonders how you can lay so much out before them, they bail. Call it trust, a desire to unburden, and hope that someone understands and feels connected by your words. I'm a fool. In all honesty the more I speak, the more I type I realize it. I want what I can't have, because I'm too unhappy with how life has turned out. Well make the difference, grasp hold of life, make that change... I hear it daily from friends I only know as text on a screen. Well what happens when you have lost the motivation, just don't give a fuck anymore? I know if I died tomorrow my epitaph would simply read... Here lies wasted potential. Anyway I don't need negative connotations left, I'll honestly ignore and delete them. As well as holy scripture of how praying will save me, remember I'm an atheist, and I could 'blog' an entire book on the subject. It would just be nice to know that I'm not alone in my pain. And for someone to understand why I was trying to reach out. I'm going back to sleep and hope I never have to awaken.