Promise Me

i never seem to have the words for which i truly need. the complex language of the soul evades me, the words with tears for letters, i know them but i can not write them. where, why, how, who? what can be done, if anything at all? i somehow know but not know the deepest things, that when the knife is at my throat the world begins to make sense but when it is lowered my vision goes. i want to give you my vision, i want you to know what i know and not have it be bad, but it can never be that way. the heart is a mysterious thing. are you ever afraid that you aren't what you should have been? i'm not even talking about regrets, everyone has something, even a little something they would change, but that's not what i am talking about. the little changes that we worry about can build but they are still small. i am thinking something deeper, that maybe there is a place deeper, an understanding deeper that was there and is now gone, that longing for the old wells, the places where you knew the water was good. and now in a land of many wells none of the water seems to taste as sweet as the water from your memories. god, i want so bad for the water of right now to taste as good as my imagination, i want so bad to let go of whatever things i am clinging to so that i could remember the goodness of now.

i need a promise from people i can not ask. i need a love for which i can not experience, only remember, only imagine, only believe in. it eludes me so, and now i know it will elude me forever. i find i am writing the fina chapters before i am writing the meat of the story. that the end is so awarely near that i spend more time remembering how it all stops instead of focusing on getting it started. i try to paint it out of me, try to write it out of me, try to sing and play it out of me but yet it remains, more and more i realize the wounds we carry, the wounds we all carry are much deeper than we typically care to imagine. we are all fighting to make it but make it where? and even more than where how will we have done when we arrive? i am still confounded by it all, so as i said i need a promise from those who can not make them.

i need words to make better sense than they have the past 26 years, i need it, i need them, i need you. but there i go again with substitutions instead of the actual. why can't i trust? why can't i go to the darkest place believing they will come through? what am i afraid of? i like to tell pople i am not afraid of anything but that isn't entirely true. it may be true i have very little fear for what people could actually do to me but i am really terrified of trusting people, truly terrified of trusting god. i thought at one point i was trusting god but who really knows what that means, where does belief come from?where does fait come from? if you can lose it then you must be able to find it.

so can you do me a favor? and this is it: i need your promise, i need yuto understand as best you can things that you will never fully grasp, i need you to be okay with all of the things i need to say, i need you to understand i am deeply complex and deeply devoted and deeply afraid. afraid i have given up things that can not be regained, that the well from my memories is now only a memory that the love i knew is gone, that the faith i had is gone, that i need new love and new faith. so what now? are you still with me? still reading? still there? god i think most of the time i am writing to myself, that somehow those who i really need to say these things to don't even know and there i am expecting ducks to be helmets again. wanting things to be so completely different than they are able to be. what will i do without the dirt under my toes? what will i do when i am gone? can i do when i am gone or will all the lights in the house simply be turned off, that here light, my light, will only become memories, fading as do mine. aren't we all memories of something, memories of someone. everytime i read philosophers i get it more and more, shoot everytime i contact or connect with another human or art form the more i realize we all have the same needs, and we all have the same troubles as we try to answer the big questions.

i used to know some answers but if i remember they weren't that good. in fact most of the answers to the biggest questions aren't that good. the best answers don't do anything to help with understanding, they only help to make it easier to cope. everything we do is geared to be a coping mechanism agains the big bad wolves in our world. when all we really need is to be. i have finally figured it out - i am and i am not the great i am. and the great i am is both me and not me, and you and not you. and so we are all constantly in flux, all of us struggling and needy. all of us doing or damned best to make it to where ever it is we are going. i am sorry i ramble on and on so much, things are making me think of you. you are too close right now and i need you to get closer. please make the promise to me. help me to understand this, i need you and i haven't needed you in sometime. and there i am again mixing up words, blender tongue making those letters mean things they don't. tears never translate well.

Days

Days saunter by like restless amigos, waiting for their chance to take shape. i don't speak the language of the days. they keep turning and turning, like shuffling cards, their meaning getting lost. i can't keep up with these days. i listen to music too loud or that is the conception. i feel like a six finger glove. unsettled is maybe the best word for my current state. everything inside me screams unsettled while everything outside screams status quo. i can't break the cycle of repeat offense. i am institutionalized in a world where my crime was existance.

i got soul.

so this is how i am seeing thigns right now, it is morning, i am in debt, i have a tragic addiction, i have limited skills, but i got a whole lot of heart. and if you can't hold on, hold on. there isn't enough volume for my radio right now, i want the songs to blast my memories into the sweet grooves of some watts stax blues. nothing is changing unless something is changing. straws, everywhere i look there are straws.

it's friday, i feel like grabbing something big, i have always been a big dreamer. i am exactly what my mom feared - i am most like my dad. yet i become more like waxen wings everyday, flying higher, diving lower. so at this point i am ready to at least ask for help, i can't dance alone but if i keep stepping on toes i might have to and i know i don't want to. god i just want to give back, i want to give what is in me, the good, the glorious, the beautiful.

how does someone stoke the fire in their soul? H.D.T. said we should cultivate the tree which we have found to bare fruit in our souls. Okay i can buy that - what now? I feel like i am pissing all over my garden and i don't know how to turn the latrene into roses. but it can be, and fuck all i don't need another hedge maze. i need goodness and a bit of fun. so turn that shit up. if i can get one message across it is i know that unless you are at max volume right now then there is space for you to turn it up and you need to. you don't need to go up to 11 but one more notch ain't gonna kill you. so pick a song, something with some thump, then put your fingers on the knob, shut your eyes, and then with the first bump of the kick drum give it another boost. your next orders? jam the fuck out.

baby i'ma lost cause

i don't really believe that. it's just a good title for today and for the confusion i can't seem to discard. i keep trying to figure out what happiness is to me or what sort of goals i am supposed to have, or maybe there are goals that i have that i don't know i have. what happens when you don't want anything in the middle term? in the short term (what i would consider the next 5 to 20 minutes) i want to feel good - essentially pure hedonism, and the ultra longterm (anything over the forseeable future so maybe sometime before death and after everything else) i just want to know the clockwork of the world. i want surety (sp?) again. i want to know something again, i seem to know less and less, less about myself except that there is more instability than i thought. less about purpose and psychology, i have a strong aversion to answers too. i really could care less what other people think about the situation, what i really want is true understanding, now if someone has that then i suppose that is different, but if some pretentious fuck comes up and tries to explain the meaning of life to me the are likely to get the cold ambivilance of the head nod. i want answers, i feel like i am seeking but not finding so that means either i am a liar or it is a liar or we are speaking a language foreign to on another. either way how in the hell does anything get done. how are others not crippled into inaction at this point? isn't nothingness the appropriate response? shouldn't "nothing" be done?

i don't know what i am asking. because i know that something should be done but that doesn't give me too much solice when i don't know what that something is. i have skills and talents for which there aren't occupations and, horribly so, nothing lights my heart like my non-jobs. i think i am converting to sociopathism. morality is becoming more and more ambiguous(sp?). how does anyone know anything? my discontent is burning me up while the majority accept the shit being sold. i don't have any answers though, and i am not sure i should. maybe we need to stop answering questions. maybe our societal discontent is what does the most harm. god what we could do with just a little peace, peace without understanding.

i don't think things anymore, i wish. but then i don't, this is weirdly fulfilling but it is completely narcissitic(sp?) i constantly feel like everything done in this day and age is personal stroking and stoking done to make us feel better? why help people? not because they need it but because we feel bad if we don't. guilt, shame, redemption. fuck living forever. fuck heaven, fuck hell, i don't want either of them. but that's not right either - i don't want what those words have become. who knows what they are anyways? i know i don't want to just disappear. so give one more point to consciousness, it wins everytime. this game is getting old but i don't know if i care enough to quit.

Lightning Strikes Twice

i don't know where to begin. everything is out of place in my mind. the most frustrating thing is that there isn't anywhere to turn. silence and emotion surround me, they are walls that keep me internalizing, keep me from being better. i am not sure i can lose anything else. all of my life i had a voice, a way to say what i needed to say, a way to be who i needed to be, and now, confronted with me as i am, and not me as i want to be, i am sickened. i am not lucky, i am not graceful, i am not even able to say what i need to say because i am tethered to a debate in my head about how the way things are and how they should be. i feel as though i am constantly dreaming, losing touch more and more with the world around me. i may not even be awake right now, this could all be psychosis or dream. either way i don't feel like i am maintaining connections the way i need to. imagine riding a roller coaster without the safety bar holding you in, that's how i feel. i feel out of control, desperately in need and completely fucked. and on top of that i feel like i am failing because i am this way. like there is something i could do or could have done to prevent this. so this compounds my failure. shame. compulsion. pain. shame.

sentience is the gift i would give back, self awareness is dragging through me like trollers scraping the ocean floor. there is very little me left and what is me doesn't seem to be recognizable as me - so is this thing i am today me? or am i who i think i should be just short of those aspirations? am i who i chose to be? am i created and molded by DNA or History or Economics? What makes me who i am? And how do i reconcile that to making it through the whole of my life? i don't know. but not caring seems to just rush it more to the surface, as i get calm and quiet these nagging questions remain. when i am loud it feels like i am doing so just to force these issues deeper into submission but they will not submit. my mind is a sieve, everything flows through it, nothing remains.

i need something and i don't know what it is. right now it is as if i am in limbo, like i have wound my way up in a corpreal purgatory. give me hell or heaven, just please don't leave me here.