Sunday, February 28, 2010

a letter to a brand new no-one

dear you:

i'm more angry with myself for believing you than i am for your reaction last night.
you have proven to me how unreasonable you can be, over and over and over. and what's so funny is, you point your fingers at me and tell me i'm dishonest and disloyal to you...
but i have come back every time. that proves my loyalty, doesn't it?

you have a lot to work on. one thing being your ability to twist things so disproportionately that they become brand new, warped versions of the situation at hand.

just because i wanted to push dinner back an hour does not mean i was dishonest about wanting to go to dinner with you, or that i was in some way jacking you around. that is ridiculous. i just wanted another beer with my best friend. last night's argument became a comedy of errors, with you losing power and steam as you were screaming at me.

have you lost your good sense of judgment, or have you never had one in the first place? do you treat everyone like this? is this why you don't have many friends and you burn through girlfriends like oil in an '82 mercedes SE?

as angry as i am with myself for sticking around, i'm glad i did. i will liken being with you to being on a massive rollercoaster sitting next to a child throwing a temper tantrum every time he knows the drop is coming... this is how i regard you. you are a brilliant artist, someone i wanted to learn things from and about, someone who has shown me this beautiful gentle soul.

but the coaster's fall feels like the wooden tracks are in need of great repair, and you have repeatedly shown me again and again that your maturity level as well as your capability to take responsibility for your actions are both so far down on the radar that i'm not sure if you will ever build up enough to treat me with the respect i deserve and demand.

it is unfortunate. but at least you were just the replacement of something i valued much more, so the loss is just unfortunate, not regrettable. don't think that you have damaged me in any way, my dear. you have painted this relationship laughable and undermined it's existence every time you throw your little tantrums.

if anything, i have damaged you. you will never find another person with my attributes, this i know. i may be flawed, i may not be proper, and i may have some kinks to work out of the system.

but i'm fucking awesome. and for you to think anything less makes you a moron. you should do yourself a favor, and get over yourself. cause one day you're going to realize people don't stick around for that kind of shit as long as i do. most don't have the patience and wherewithall to wait it out. i am the exception, not the rule. hope you like small spaces, cause that pedestal only has room for one. good luck with that.



Tuesday, February 23, 2010

lil wayne

Let the beat drop
Let your eyes close
Cause when the notes hit
My bloodstream, I
Pulse with everything good.


Thursday, February 18, 2010

dead presidents

Unlock this, unlock
My jaw and this stupid,
Stupid silence, as
I bide the time and
Sew my lips shut.
Bite my tongue.
Close my eyes.
Listen to the melody
Between my ears, and
It's always about
The prospect of a
New day
By forgetting the
ones that have passed.
Because that's what
They are-
The past. The
Dead presidents
Of time. Lincoln
With a shot to the
Head, kennedy a shot
To the heart.
I may want the
Memories to hold,
But, man, do they
Sure haunt the present.


Wednesday, February 17, 2010

i failed math for non-majors in college

my head is too full for my own good. overflowing with words and thought and movement and lust... but not for someone else, for once.

lust for life. lust for myself. lust for everything i have ever wanted. it is growing, it is screaming, it is deafening. it is drowning out the noise that gets in the way all the time, which is a very, very good thing. i don't want noise. i want to be underwater, listening to the sound of nothing. i want to be in north carolina, listening to the snow fall from the sky. i want to be in a studio, listening to my feet hit the floor with a vengeance.

i want everything. but to get there, i have to have nothing. how paradoxical. if i had it my way, i would be living in a giant warehouse in bushwick and teaching private lessons. i would wake up and look at the other warehouses outside of my soaring paneled windows, watch the sun rise over the tops of the buildings like dust kicked up from a bike down route 66. i would sip my coffee in silence and enjoy that moment of nothing and how if you listen real close, you can hear your heartbeat resonate with the city's.

i would just have this giant empty space, with a couch and a workbench to create my designs. i would have black and white everything, and red wine bottles lining the cabinet tops like toy soldiers under the christmas tree. i would have simple, and i would love it.

simple is so good, but it seems sometimes that we forget how to do it, which is ridiculous. is simple really that complex? i thought simple left that up to complicated. it's 2+2=4, not trigonometry. i don't even know what trigonometry is, or what it applies to. but my life seems to be full of it. i want a 2+2 life.

in order to achieve this, what is it that we have to shed? i gave away everything i had in atlanta, and moved to boston with a suitcase and a pillow. and when i moved to new york, i only gained a trunk that i stole from the basement of the house i lived in. that wouldn't constitute as a complication, would it?

simple. i'm going to think about this one tonight. and i'll get back to you on what i discover about it. it may be nothing. but, nothing is a start to simple, right?


Somethin' gotta give with the way I'm livin'
Seems I'm gettin' down everyday
The more I strive, the less I'm alive
And seems i'm gettin' further away

Oh well all my superstitions
And my crazy suspicions
Of the people that I care about
I've been doin' more screamin'
Than I've been doin' dreamin'
And I think it's time I figure it out

Baby i need a plan
Oh, to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand

-amos lee


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

pretty little things

i guess you're right; i
guess we're better off
dead in the water, cause
you can't take my jokes, and
i can't take you're
disposition... i
always expected the worst
but thought the best, those
blue eyes coddled my
best intentions like
a blanket to chills.
i don't want this, this
shattered this, this
bruised this... especially
when it's replacing
a this that was better
than all of of this
ever was or could be.
maybe we kept
each other safe,
from each other, and
that's why we held on
so long. the
necklace was pretty,
the roses, unforgettable, but
flowers die too quick, wither
like our insides
trying to build walls
before the sun gets
too hot.
the sun got too hot.
the sun got too hot.
and now bridges
are burning, everywhere.

life is a beach. literally, a vast unknown of kabillions of grains of sand, washed away by the ever changing tide. well, this tide is crashing the shore with a vengeance, and wreaking havoc on everything i thought could one day be solid. up, down, up, down, up down, up... there has to be both to be sane, right? right. right? you don't know the good unless there's bad, because good would have no meaning without it's arch nemesis. and i know this. i know this... i know this. some of my jokes aren't funny, some of the shit i do isn't fair, and some of who i am is crippled. but that doesn't mean i'm totally broken beyond repair, right? and who says i want to be repaired at all? maybe i like being broke. maybe i don't think i need to be fixed. maybe i just want someone to love everything wrong about me and discard all the pretty i make on a day to day basis.

maybe the pretty is what's wrong with all of us... maybe we search too hard for that, and lose all the things that make us who we are. pretty is easy. pretty is everywhere. pretty is nice and comforting and complacent.

but growth happens in the uncomfortable, and makes us into the pretty we find right before we're gone. maybe pretty isn't that pretty at all. maybe pretty is what makes us all so ugly in the end.

it's been a bad day. but that just means its arch nemesis is just around the corner.



i can't fall asleep
cause the montana
mountains are on
my heart.


Monday, February 8, 2010

so much more to come

wildfires, wildfires, what
bridges you burn, and
force down throats the
lessons to learn;
oh, dear, look at you,
so broken and singed...
but your card burned up too,
you stunning victim.
you can cry, you can
bleed, you can burn, you
can brim
but at the end of today
those cards have been played.
what a loss, what to do but
whistle and sigh, and
kick rocks at your feet, wait
for the turning
of tides.


Thursday, February 4, 2010

when life gives you lemons...

it's time to make a fucking citron and soda.

this may be a difficult time, yes. this may be low and this may be rough around the edges and uncomfortable and bruised.

but this is no more impossible than san francisco. or boston. or cancer or a car accident or a heartbreak.

these pieces can be picked up with patience and glued back together with dexterity. the cracks can be sanded down with jack daniels and set with turning a handle to a new door. it's a new door. it's a new day.

and i will not fucking let these trite little shits get the fucking best of me. listen up, you cinder-block sons of bitches... it will be a cold, dark day in hell before i let you win. before i let you get to me. before i let you decide what my outcome is. you can go fuck yourselves, cause wether you like it or not, i'm going to take over the world and make you clean my bathroom when all is said and done. and you know if i don't like you, i will shit on your floor.

eat me, negativity. cause you don't have a chance to beat me.