I think it’s time to fall in love with my music again. The songs fill my head and whisper for me to come back to the only place that I belong.
I want to get UP.
So that I can get lower.
I dont give a ¿¡☆ if you love me. Let’s adventure it out. . If you find me crazy, I must be doing something right. I fall for the ones that do it all wrong. I stay in on the weekends while the city is alive outside. I should be living my greatest life but I’m shy in the limelight. I’m bored with the day to day so at night I awake. If you’re always waiting, you won’t get anywhere. And maybe I’m going nowhere fast. One more, come on.
“I could use a break. We need to go down, down, d o w n, down on life. I need you to take all my śhådöwś for a walk tonight.”
Don’t fade away…
Have you ever felt like in the midst of the world spinning, you were spinning faster? Sometimes I wonder if I never had much balance to begin with. But I tip toe through the madness, praying I dont wake the evil one. And I remind myself that everything is temporary.
I wonder often what it is I search for from you. Maybe it’s the mystery..that’s just nonchalant enough to convince myself that’s true. And just between the cracks enough to make any others believe that. I’ve wanted to hate you for so many reasons. I probably made some of the reasons up, to make myself feel better. Yet as time goes by, years, months, days…minutes even, I fall face first into an abyss …of you and me. We’re much older now, children have come into our lives. We’ve lost ones we loved the most. We’re riddled with secrets that aren’t the candy coated kind you want to have when things are still full of mischief . And I’m pretty damn intelligent. No, there will never be an us. Dear Friends? Of course. But deep within the darkest parts of me… other ideas exist of us. Ones that I have to bury. To cover with a laugh and a spurious smile. I guess I’ll accept the permanent uncertainty of what I still cherish of … us. Music we disagree on and the roughness that keeps me calm. An occasional love you that is quite certain platonic. No one ever said it was poisonous to daydream…
Fever of Fun
I just long to feel the sun again. Though I get the feeling that the deep burns of last summer’s memories may never be touched again. You were everything ; and you were nothing. At least that’s what I wanted you to think you were. But now all has been released. Well at least through words and high priced phone calls. July will ring it’s bells and I no longer know where I’ll be; singing with them or watching from the sidelines. I seem to always lose my chance at things by trying not to let go. But in your eyes? I have been letting go. If my heart could be read by you at times , I wonder how different things may be.
I just want to be sick. Sick with the insane fever that fun seems to bring. But it seems it’s been broken. The chills are leaving…the sweats have passed and … I AM LOST.
I have lost, almost everything. I feel I’ve been seeking what I see in our potential for what seems like years and now I’m watching it slip through my hands.
Where was the moon when I needed her? The only piece of the sky that arranges my heart. I can’t even recall your touch, bright sun shining a cheerless blur. But you said something like beautiful while you pulled on my hair. I liked your taste of danger.
“In this jungle we are all just animals,
criminals, but we’re innocent always.”
| Love&Light |
How can i really run free, when there comes such a price to pay for running. I’m not sure if I’m miserable or if I just have yet to accept that I secretly adore the pain that comes attached to anything that makes living seem easier, and illusion is the only thing that gives me peace of mind.
But even that is not real.
It somehow has reached the middle of November. Yesterday it was April and the weather was finally turning warm. It seems a world of things have happened since. My life just completely changed before my eyes, the Summer of speed. Fall seems it was skipped, and the bitter Winter is coming. Strange experiences have flooded my so called life the last few months. For instance,the same day an innocent life, my God daughter was being brought into the world… an innocent life, my angelic Grandfather was heading into surgery that would later on lead to his passing. Driving to the hospital that morning, Dog Days are Over by Florence and the Machine was playing on my stereo ( the acoustic version, my favorite ), the same song that was humming through the radio as I drove away after saying goodbye for the last time to my other Grandfather this past Winter, and tears were filling my eyes…as if I already knew the future. My intuition has grown very strong over the past year. I’m t-o-r-n between…well ALL of it really.
Love actually ♥ and ♥ Love factually.
What I’d like to do⇐ and ⇒ what I need to do.
Knowing but being oblivious.
Wanting everything now, but procrastinating.
I have a few moments of clarity here and there… and when I do, I hold to them for dear life. Eventually, I come spiraling back down into this chaotic world.I’m going to set out to find my inner sense of light. Because, at the end of the tunnel…there doesn’t seem to be any this time. So, instead I will create my own. Maybe it’s not always where it normally is…at the end of these tunnels and such. Possibly I am the end of the tunnel and must find how to radiate some light so that maybe someone else can see it. In the end, it’s not about me. It’s about everyone that surrounds me. They are what keep me a float. Even when I feel like I’m sinking, I am again pulled back up. Even if only for a moment.
| Love&Light |
Each day is a riot. The tug of wars in my brain quake under a thick skull. stubborn some may say. There does lie truth in zodiac based studies but maybe some of the time, and no I don’t mean often necessarily, I could perhaps be right and you the wrong But you lull me into brainwash banshees. maybe you’re a hypnotist? I no longer sleep in your spell. Broken multiplies in definition. It’s almost as if suddenly they are picking UP my pieces and in attempts to put me together ? are rather puzzled . A push and pull OF frustration. Beginnings of a riot. maybe one entered beyond my own choice. CHAOS, and. a cautious CLARITY.
Love Is War
And maybe why I’m alone at the end of every day is because none of it’s normal . It’s a lack of respect. In a respectful way. It’s a loss of self. In a way of desperately seeking. Losing all control. In a sense of affirmative beliefs. It’s diagnosed insanity.
All the while seeming perfectly pieced together. This is the road to a fucked up fantasy. There’s no such thing as a happy marriage. And though fingers naked, and unfinished relations with a dozen different others lie still at the way side, still claiming one would be ok without the other… a matrimony is what have we. Holy it may not be, but beautiful yes. Maybe loyalty is proper in devotions place. Grind instead of hard work. Partners not..no we are lovers. Lovers you don’t have to love. We’ve shared more than a kiss, more than a night of raw and chillingly great sex, more than the girls that joined in . We’ve swapped skin, we’ve shared blood. The blood of each other. The blood of ..others. I would lick his wounds and he would be the cause of mine. Love is not kind, or patient, or blind. Love is war. Love is pain. Love is interesting and charmingly laced in mischief. Only finding true escape in the drug of one another, skin to skin, flesh flushed. After all, we are never slow to notice explosions. At times we just rearrange the transistors, in the eye of waiting for the next one to come. We can’t get more naked. And the truth is only naked. We’re the rush as it comes, no permanent home, but permanence with each other.
This is love unveiled and on it’s knees at the altar. I do..
I do find it delicate in all of it’s hardened ways. Flowers and candy. Money and drugs. Stripes and plaid.
You.. and me.
l Love & Light l
Like a temporary Hallelujah
Ghosts clothed in haunting, angels with baby eyes…
Both of them know the same dance. Both of them able to shake my attention. They grab me in two contrasting ways, clawing my skin for dear life and whispering sweet saunterings in my ears. More than often I feel corrupted. I feel alone. Like the only things I truly want are always just slightly out of reach. And when things start to finally a line up correctly, I know now not to indulge in the seemingly sweet, bubbling champagne. But still, I carefully take a glass. “Just a little taste..,” I tell myself. “I know,” I say, “I know things are never what they seem.”
Out loud I speak with a well trained firm grip on knowing not to believe things could ever really go well and go my way simultaneously. Seems that is just not ever so.
In the quiet, I wonder without limit. Entertaining the buzz. The hum of the new ideas and new places I’m somehow, about to go. I plan my roadway hymnals and I picture the day I take my choice of belongings, and graciously start over. I remember those dreamy feelings I had that early morning in High Desert as I boarded my first train to the City of Angels. Those views, as we crisply intertwined through the crevices of the mountains. Oh, the sky line at dawn of a place I’d only dreamed I’d ever be near. Even the air stepped to a new beat. So ready to feel this again, I secretly hold onto hopes of a new journey…
| Love & Light |
Green Tom and Blue Tom
At times I wonder if facing reality could possibly the cause of our corruption. I tend to feel more alive when I am running. But why does it automatically become running a w a y strictly by assumption? What if in actuality I am running TO something?
Of course there are parts of our reality that cannot be hidden and will go with us wherever we may be. But I’m starting to think that maybe those parts can be of our choosing.
September 24, 2015- I lost the dearest soul I ever knew. My heart. My strength. My hope. My reason. My Papaw.. I was given the greatest and most incredible Grandfather and never saw this coming at such a time in life. I never wanted to believe it would come … . at all.
But amidst the most terrifying hours, when you are able to see each definitive piece of yourself disassociate and seemingly fall into every single wrong place, maybe this is the down tempo folk lore of as the rush comes. Because it also g o e s, not clothed at all in euphoria, but naked and bitterly bare. No deeper sense of alone. At the point of which the pain begins to mollify the chaos ..I guess it truly does come down to perception after all. Here is the crossroad《》 See the loss as the perfect excuse to just go, and become the losing itself.? or simply just let it be found. After such revelations, I suppose then we find ourselves at our genesis.