Thanks Mom

"You don't have enough self esteem 
to feel like you can do anything."

All But

"I have all but died from the sheer weight of my shame."

Wondering If The

             "The movie theater was on the second floor also, and I was trying to spot the people who were going to the midday movie, wondering whether the blackness of the theater would fill the void and exasperate it."

As She Was Trying To Leave Me

 "I showed her the big gray empty space inside me.
I didn't meant to; it's just what happens when I disappoint someone I'm trying to impress."

Get Over It

And nothing ever had anything to do with me.

Alterations Realization

This disconnect I always wanted, I'll make it last as long as I can. Hope is a mindset, a state of mind that cannot be forced, its absence cannot be reckoned with. My mom said it won't feel like vacation forever, but it isn't a feeling of vacationing, just some change. Opportunity, for lack of a better word, it's the feeling of that letter might be the last one, and embarrassed stuttering may not occur when I explain what's going on. I'll be able to say work and school and feel alright, feel somewhat right. Not hear myself say that I wanted to see just how bad and low I could manage to get this life on my own, not that there is nothing I am able to do, but anything. I see a glimpse of hope, as maybe it sees me, long awaited on my journey of things I wanted to do that made me feel badly. The future isn't patient, and sometimes neither am I, but I've come to complete terms with wanting nothing else. And I know I spent this day's entirety in my bed, but nothing is an action or even response, but a mind state, and for the first time in a long time I don't mind where I am. Maybe who I am will follow one of these days.

I Loathe To Think

"I bitch and I moan, I lie and I cheat

Waiting for the night when I die in my sleep

I listen to the jukebox and sit by the bar

Taking care of a dog that got hit by a car

Praying for salvation, needing a miracle

Drowning in new music and reading material

Shoe laces untied, telling people I'm rich

Who can't tell the difference between real art and high kitch

Mouth like a broken bottle, crooked and bottomless

Half wolf, half crow, half hippopotamus

Sturdy as a paper bag, as well, my face is flawed

But keeping the fire going by the grace of God

And I'm loathe to think that we missed our chance

To find a way out of this downward dance

We got it all wrong

Singing a song with a rock in my mouth

Nobody knows what I'm talking about

Lost without a marketing plan and a stylist

Here comes the vilest nihilist finalist

Once and for all, barbed wire and rope

The most beautiful woman is strung out on dope

Slowly the music, died, died, died

Three white horses side by side

Last change to change, you better hurry, quick

Laying in a bed, wide awake and I'm worried sick

Completely out-foxed, I hide from the phone

And I swear this pen has a mind of its own

Jaws that go through solid steel, a clenched fist

A breath of fresh air for once and a French kiss

The weight of the world and collapsable me

I'm talking about trouble with a capital T

We got it all wrong"

Shy Because

Most nights I'd describe this as shy
but it's always and still me wanting to just say hi
I want to say something sweet and nice
but always go with the backup because
my defenses are just too high
and no one would think to ask
why
and i want to give you honesty but
when you open yourself up wide
you're leaving that door open for a cold draft
i guess once you've been that rejected
you just then know you gotta keep yourself ultra protected
aware it makes it more difficult for a connection
but each new face is not so much a fresh opportunity
but an old tired and bitter projection


and you'll forget that the shadow is unaware of what they've done
that nobody especially a lover would want to do that to someone

This One Box

"take these lies in the palm of your heart,
they are all that i have, this one box,
that holds my entire life in.
i bring flames of time burn, baby, burn.
my life is on fire, bind my soul as you see fit.
compress the words that i have left from my mouth to silence,
plagiarize my works of almost art,
mimicking your timeless glance into my shorten lifelines
that circle the equator that is you.
i span the world, i scan the world for someone that you cannot replace.
sing me a song, let me know how much you wouldn't care if i disappeared.
the box is yours if you want it.
this one's for courage, this one's for valor.
this one's discouraged by words and commitment,
and told you how i glance at other people
with the same sultry eyes of conceit.
what gives you the right to hold the gates at a distance?
i cannot be matched by persistence nor time.
i trust you more than i trust me,
deceive my blind eyes and trespass to my solemn vow.
i won't make you cry so i can make you feel better,
and i won't cry to make you feel whatever i want to make you feel.
this one's the invitation, a song for me to clear my mind,
melting the ink to form a letter to bond we eternally.
two folded pages of words i can't say with enough conviction
to make you see exactly what i mean.
the cello sings sad longer than my patience.
i hear it on empty streets where my heart beats.
this ghost town has skeletons that i can't see.
my retinas see transparencies, so please tell me, what's wrong?


let me see it through your eyes with no words, just touching,
'cause these words are as tired as the sun's predictable settings.
this one is for determination, this one is for, me.
this one has nothing to do with either of us.
and are you from another time, another place of displacement?
where our souls travel adjacent, and i smile without pretension.
i feel the tension strain upon my hands you left with me,
subject me to social scrutiny for your self-benefit.
i think it's probably best this way,
you and i can never be together anyway,
any place, any time, with masked emotion and more words to decipher.
six-line phrases of stupidity.
this rare photograph shows me as an old man, and i see myself all alone.
all these trinkets got stories i would tell you
but you listen with biased ears and no questions for me.
as my response, an empty box, wide open, and it's yours if you want it."

Getting Not Getting It

You can, and will, misunderstand and misinterpret anything and everything. They key is to be conscious and aware that there is room for error, and nothing is just the way it looks or seems. The key is not to understand and work out these things, this everything, you will drive yourself mad, when it is something like someone else's thoughts, especially if it is something like someone else's feelings. That isn't to say don't try, always try, but the goal is not to succeed, the goal is in the trying.

25,498 Days Since I Last Saw You

"When you finally remember– it will be like replacing
the one faulty bulb in a string of Christmas lights.


The autopsy is oblivious to how we lived."

Overcome Them

"Their faults can be as large in scale as their virtues, and when excessively negative they can be one of the most unpleasant human beings imaginable, displaying extreme arrogance, autocratic pride, haughtiness, and excessive hastiness of temper. If jealously suspicious of rivals, they will not hesitate to use cunning, lies and trickery to discredit them. Self-centeredness, greed for flattery, boastfulness, and bombast, pomposity, snobbish superiority, and overbearing, and intolerant disdain of underlings; to whom they will nevertheless delegate the carrying out of minor details in their grandiose schemes, and from whom they are not above borrowing immoderately if an occasion necessitates it. Any of these can be characteristics.


Add to them a passion for luxury, a lust for power, unlimited sexual lust, and emotional indulgence, and a character emerges that no one would want to know either in public life or private. But their pride may go before a fall, as uncontrolled impetuosity is likely to bring them low. Fortunately it is rare that they are so undisciplined as to give way thoroughly to this list of vices, and their tendencies to them are usually balanced by an innate wisdom. Those who are afflicted with them also have the intelligence it takes to consciously and actively overcome them."

Best/Worst Of 2011

(UNFINISHED:)
*somewhat chronological


Most Inspiring

• Jane Eyre
• The Dilemma
• Harry Potter 7 pt. II
• Our Idiot Brother
• Toy Story 3
• The Adjustment Bureau 
• Sucker Punch
• Hanna
• The Greatest Movie Ever Sold
• Bridesmaids
• Midnight in Paris
• X-Men First Class
• Beginners
• Super 8
• Crazy, Stupid, Love
• I Am
• Louder Than A Bomb
• Life in a Day
• The Help
• Drive
• The Tree of Life
• The Lion King 3D
• Glee 3D
• 50/50
• Finding Joe
• In Time
• The Future
• Like Crazy
• Melancholia
• Hugo
• The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Most Disappointing

• I Am Number Four
• The Green Hornet
• Limitless
• Beastly
• The Roommate
• Red Riding Hood
• The Hangover pt. II
• Unknown
• Source Code
• Your Highness
• The Other Woman
• The Debt
• Rise of the Planet of the Apes
• Dream House
• New Years Eve

Visceral

vis·cer·al

adj \ˈvi-sə-rəl, ˈvis-rəl\

Definition of VISCERAL

1

: felt in or as if in the internal organs of the body : deep visceral conviction>

2

: not intellectual : instinctive, unreasoning <visceral drives>

3

: dealing with crude or elemental emotions : earthy visceral novel>

visceral [ˈvɪsərəl]

adj

1. (Life Sciences & Allied Applications / Anatomy) of, relating to, or affecting the viscera

2. characterized by intuition or instinct rather than intellect

viscerally  adv

2.

visceral - obtained through intuition rather than from reasoning or observation intuitive, nonrational illogical, unlogical - lacking in correct logical relation

vis·cer·al

  [vis-er-uhl]

adjective

1.

of or pertaining to the viscera.

2.

affecting the viscera.

3.

of the nature of or resembling viscera.

4.

characterized by or proceeding from instinct rather than intellect: a visceral reaction.

5.

characterized by or dealing with coarse or base emotions;earthy; crude:  visceral literary style.

Asymetical Bond Doing Something Wrong

I've been throwing rocks at your window for years now
you love the attention, but hate the sound
tossing pebbles even when I know you're gone
hardly you but I still wrote you another love letter
this time five pages long
doing drastically better, the question then is why I am still on your lawn

Sacrificial

Each and every inhale and swallow.




should love be so ?
(Happily harbor this shit, like loose lips still silva l ships?)

Precarious

pre·car·i·ous/priˈke(ə)rēəs/

Adjective:

Not securely held or in position; dangerously likely to fall or collapse. Dependent on chance; uncertain. pre·car·i·ous   [pri-kair-ee-uhs] adjective 1. dependent on circumstances beyond one's control;uncertain; unstable; insecure: a precarious livelihood. 2. dependent on the will or pleasure of another; liable to bewithdrawn or lost at the will of another: He held a precarious tenure under an arbitrary administration. 4. having insufficient, little, or no foundation: a precarious assumption. precarious  (prɪˈkɛərɪəs)    — adj 1. liable to failure or catastrophe; insecure; perilous 2. archaic  dependent on another's will

How Does

“It Is not as if an ‘I’ exists independently over here and then simply loses a ‘you’ over there… if I lose you, under these conditions, then I not only mourn the loss, but I become inscrutable to myself. Who am ‘I’ without you? When we lose some of these by which we are constituted, we do not know who we are or what to do. On one level, I think I have lost ‘you’ only to discover that ’I’ have gone missing as well. At another level, perhaps what I have lost ‘in’ you… is a relationality that is composed neither exclusively of myself nor you, but is to be conceived as the tie by which those terms are differentiated and related … Our cultural frames for thinking the human set limits on the kinds of losses we can avow as loss. After all, if someone is lost, and that person is not someone, then what and where is the loss, and how does mourning take place?”

"What grief displays, in contrast, is the thrall in which our relations with others hold us, in ways that we cannot always recount or explain, in ways that often interrupt the self conscious account of ourselves we might try to provide, in ways that challenge the very notion of ourselves ads autonomous and in control… My narrative falters, as it must. 

Let’s face it, we’re undone by each other, and if we’re not, we’re missing something…

This seems so clearly the case with grief, but it can only be so because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact. One may want to, or manage to for a while, but despite one’s best efforts, on is undone, in the face of the other, by the touch, the the scent, by the feel, by the prospect of the touch, by the memory of the feel."

“When we lose certain people, or when we are dispossessed from a place, or a community, we may simply feel that we are undergoing something temporary, that mourning will be over and some restoration of prior order will be achieved. But maybe when we undergo what we do, something about who we are is revealed, something that delineates the ties we have to others, that shows us that these ties constitute what we are, ties or bonds that compose us. It is not as if an ‘I’ exists independently over here and then simply loses a ‘you’ over there, especially if the attachment to ‘you’ is part of what composes who ‘I’ am. If I lose you, under these conditions, then I not only mourn the loss, but I become inscrutable to myself. Who ‘am’ I, without you? When we lose some of these ties by which we are constituted, we do not know who we are or what to do. On one level, I think I have lost ‘you’ only to discover that ‘I’ have gone missing as well. At another level, perhaps what I have lost ‘in’ you, that for which I have no ready vocabulary, is a relationship that is composed neither exclusively of myself nor you, but is to be conceived as the tie by which those terms are differentiated and related.”

Due To Lack Of Interest

"I WANT THIS TO BE LIKE AN EPIC FIGHT BETWEEN TWO OF THE BEST, BY THE END OF IT YOU CAN'T HELP BUT BE THANKFUL THAT THERE WAS SOMEONE GOOD ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU BRING OUT YOUR BEST, WHICH ISN'T SEEN FOR YEARS AT A TIME."

We Think Like That

I coulda sworn you said hang in there, right before hanging up, 
and I may question each and every friendship (as why they'd be friends with me) 
but will never doubt you, as family.

Blood Right

I drowned this in a floodlight
you said this can't last, 
as I brought blood right
to the surface of the bruises of your past

Faith

my trust
stolen from me
as if it were
in actuality
worth something
stripped and shredded
as if it were intentionally
as if I were to really learn
what hesitancy means


now there is a division
between the right now
and when I still believed
apply what I learned
diligently
and weary of the night time;
my magnetism
towards all things
emotionally depreciating

Understanding

In the cold I felt my breath, as much as I could see

and you carved us simplistically into a tree

as in maybe

like I had been just waiting for you

you'd been waiting for me

Flourishing

I have put an extrodanary amount of symbolism and significance in this plant. I have seen it as something that is fragile and weak, something I need to take care of and tend to, due to previous neglect and abandonment. The plant, I thought, was forgotten not merely by its previous owner, but by my selfish self and I wanted to do everything I could to heal and love it. I moved it to a cooler place, prune its brown dying leaves and parts, I watered it meticulously. I spent a lot of time not only caring for this plant, but projecting so many ridiculous things onto it about myself and relationships. I remember one day that I even told myself that the pant was fine, and I was actually manicuring and tending to it down to nothing. I worried for this plants life, anticipating its untimely death, and praying for its revival and strength. There were many occasions I just stood there worrying for it, wishing I could do more, maybe give it more sun or move it outdoors, make it happier. I remember thinking if I couldn't fix and care take this plant it was proof of myself as a neglecting failure. No matter the struggle and effort, this plant remained wilted and withering, deep green in parts, but my concern grew for its blemishes. As time went on I wondered often if I should cut more of its dead parts off, does it need more maintenance or help. I suspected this plant was interchangeable for every friendship I'd ever had. You're truly yourself in every situation. Before I trimmed and tore more of its long leaves, my dad happened to bring it up, and take a look at it. I said I tried all I could, but it was dying, just inevitably dying, to which he responded that this plants grows naturally, just like that, just as it was. It was good that I watered it from time to time, but this plant in particular has yellowing and brownish tints just because its like that. He told me not to worry about it. And I suspecting my clipping and snipping, my dismay and sadness, all hindered this plant more than anything. This dread will kill it.

You're Both Children

Children.


"I AM YOUNG!" He yells boldly. And when she called us children, oh how we would never disagree.

December

And December came
with more force and velocity
than August.
Who knew it could be like that? 
Emotions ran higher
than the water,
I've been babbling about.
Still learning.
Nothing else is still.

Speculations

"VERY few people will take their mask off for you.


All I can do is speculate."

Thank You

"And, I'd be lying if I said all of this
made even the slightest fragment of sense to me
That's real... Simply put
I don't know what happened, or what's still happening
I literally feel like I'm teetering on the blunt edge of my sanity
I killed the robots and I'm sorry
Broke down in front of you, embarrassed
but you lent a heart and hand that only you could
you're one of my best friends and yes I'd take that bullet for you
That's my word, which is about all I have left


(for the late night movie rentals and the company I needed
An' you knew it, but I just wouldn't admit it
You listened to me blab about my issues for hours
Offer incredible advice, gave me a hug when I was finished
Am I a jack of all trades? Nope... I like to write songs though
Are they good? I dunno..
But I could tell you that I only write shit down when I believe it
So take this how you want, but know I mean it
I want you all to know that I'm scared
Out my fuckin' crooked soul and never faced a monster like the last few months
ever in my whole life... I wish I could explain this better (I can't)
But the pieces won't formulate it to anything even close to cohesive
So I guess this is my feeble way to thank you
Four soldiers that extended something sacred off the purity of kindness
I owe you all my life and please don't argue with that statement


I guess it is kind of funny when you look at it from a step back
How one man can literally buckle under the same pressures
Other men operate normally under
I have soaked this out from all angles, walking through time
I have been over everything in my head, still I can't think anymore
But I guess some times, when you can't breathe, there are people there
to breathe for you
I am lucky enough to have those people around me
Thank you for helping me to not die
Thank you for helping me to not die)"

Like Crazy

A good movie should send you reeling. You're not sure whether to talk about it afterwards; to tell everyone you know to go experience this special treasure, or to keep it private and sacred. During a good movie I am trying not to smile, and trying not to cry. A good allows me to cry as well as grin because it feels appropriate, and right. You can connect to a good movie, as if they understood it better than you did, just the right amount. A good movie is personal, and you watch your self revealed whether explained or not. A good movie you can feel inside your chest, your heart actually feels full, or sore. A good movie can't keep you away, because you desire to feel all those things again, and as often as possible. The truths and themes of a good movie are so important, and important to you, that you want that movie to be constantly playing just to remind you of its purpose. A good movie will be misunderstood, and you will take all comments and criticisms totally to heart, because they are truly attacking and misunderstanding you as a human. A good movie brings upon a feeling that can only be described as love, and makes you want to go out and act upon this movie, because you realize the potential of your entire life. A good movie hurts, because it was the way that you wanted something to go, or because it was the way that it went. It makes you recall things you hadn't in a long time, or maybe even ever before. It makes you want to share certain moments with certain people so they see you and your feelings, view your emotions on the screen simple and true. A good movie has you so absorbed, you are taking in every single thing that you possibly can, and wish you were able to take in even more. Its details make you so genuinely happy, and it is perfect in its flaws and imperfections. You don't want a good movie to end, and time isn't even really real when you're watching it, it is the time within the movie only. A good movie you want to remember, and never forget any of it, and never stop watching, and always live by, and adhere to its morals because it was a good movie which means your life has the potential, to be good.

How I'm Composed

i guess i believed i'd fall far from this family tree
a group of people sick to their stomach with nerves and neuroses
myself


all deriving from my dead beat-ing a horse dad
reminding me the same thing as often as he was able
that he was never capable of loving me


or my mom, moving to an island 
just to physically display her isolation from us
you always believe your parents
even and especially when they tell you you aren't able to do things
like laugh that i can't ride an airplane, or bicycle 


with you
it was all so sensory, i was able to feel it then, how i knew it would end - cold turkey
like the day after thanksgiving
realizing we'll probably never have another holiday together again


like my ability and tendency to lose hold of everything 
once it means something
and how i can hardly one night stand that any more


or the drinks, weed, and pills, everything i swore off and avoided
sticking to me like magnets
this is all the opposite of what i wanted

I Need To Fix This

in·hib·it  (n-hbt) tr.v. in·hib·it·ed, in·hib·it·ing, in·hib·its 1. To hold back; restrain. See Synonyms at restrain. 2. To prohibit; forbid. 3. Psychology To suppress or restrain (behavior, an impulse, or a desire) consciously or unconsciously.

adj

Definition: very shy
Antonyms: aggressive, bold, extrovert, forward, immodest, self-confident, uninhibited

Definition of INHIBIT

transitive verb

1

: to prohibit from doing something

2

a : to hold in check : restrainb : to discourage from free or spontaneous activity especially through the operation of inner psychological or external social constraints

in·hib·it·ed/inˈhibitid/

Adjective:

Unable to act in a relaxed and natural way because of self-consciousness or mental restraint.

Examples of INHIBIT

1. You shouldn't allow fear of failure to inhibit you.
2. He was inhibited by modesty.
3. Fear can inhibit people from expressing their opinions.

in·hib·it·ed

  [in-hib-i-tid] 

adjective

1.

overly restrained.

2.

Psychology . suffering from inhibition.