So getting the Legacy was a pain.  Brad and i had to deal with two banks, and a MONTH of papers.  What an ordeal.  It had nothing to do with him nor i, either.  Chase Financing sucks.  They had the title, and the lein, and the money.  And they SAT on it, lol.  whatever.

Im picky about cars.  I searched the country, and found three i liked.  Atlanta.  Indianapolis.  And Vermont. Atlanta had been driven hard, Vermont was older.  Indy had a good and sad story.  Seller was getting laid off, car had to go.  So off i went.

430 am at the airport for a 530 Flight.  Thanks to the boys at work for finding me an earlier flight, and Anthony for the ride (and the ride, and the ride, and the ride, LOL)

The pic doesnt do it justice.  It was sweet… Except for the part wher ei was on a plane, with 3 hours of sleep and a screwed up stomach…

 930 am and Brad and i had a plan to meet.  Trouble:  They had a Johnston and Murphy shoe store in the airport.  I almost had to blow him off to go buy new shoes, but i decided against such an action…

Brad and his girl seeing me off from the airport parking garage.  Took me ten minutes to get out.  WTF kind of parking machine needs the credit card to go in UPSIDE DOWN???

Gettin on the Business Pedal, cuz i had plans and had to be back in Syracuse by 8pm, latest.  LOL.

See me rolllllllllin.

It was a beautiful day for a road trip, even if i had to go it alone. Its always disappointing, but (in my bitterness) i expect it now.  I was going to go to Chicago while i was out this way, but said Eff it, lets roll.

Me and these guys motored through two states together….

The pics dont do us justice.  We were movin’

Its a Western New York Staple!  And this was the ONLY thing i was stopping for.  Okay, this and coffee.  And damn, did i have me some coffee.

Yeah, so its a beautiful car.  But i have to be honest:  The first road trip drove me nuts.  It was like shifting with a goddamned row boat.  Thankfully, i managed to get the Cobb STS out of the old car before it got sent away.  I didnt wait more than a week, before getting it in there.  WORLDS better.

Annnnnnnd….. Back in the Cuse, by 7:45.

All in all, im happy.  This one i want to do right though.  The radio parts are available now, and ive got new wheels and tires picked out. Sway bars, a front lip, a rear wing, and a new set of pedals to follow.

I wrote “Why” the other evening, thinking back to that night.  Whats done is done, but i will say that the new car is a bittersweet acquisition.  I was rather attached to the old Legacy. I had some good times in that car.  Some GREAT times.  And, some really hard times.  And like a best friend, it was steadfast, and ALWAYS there when i beckoned…. And once when i didnt.

Im not sure if you can tell in this picture, but the upstairs (Master bedroom) had some god awful wallpaper on it.  Lets clarify that, too.  ALL wallpaper is god awful.  And the next time youre thinking about it, get your lazy fat ass to strip the walls and paint, or something.  Wallpaper sucks.  Anyway, this was the sitch:  My Queen Bed doesnt have a split box-spring, so it cant get up the stairs.  So i said i would take my time and redo the room, then get new furniture for it.  Im finally working on it.

The pictures are crap, but we started shredding the wall paper, between a Steamer and some scrapers… And a lot of beer. Mid progress shot after we were about half done.  To get to this point, i yanked all the wood trim too.  Its just generic Crown, but i think im going to chuck it.  Im thinking of getting some 1x Rough from HD, and framing the windows and doors in it.  Then, i may run it around the ceiling/half wall joints, to give it a rustic cottage look.  Earthy colors to follow.

Brian having at it with the steamer and the scraper, while i watched. Go team!

 This is me, practicing at Project Management.  These are the rules:

1.  Always smile.

2.  Always have something in your hands (look busy!)

3.  Always be animated.  People like passionate people!

4.  Thumbs up!  Encourage your team!  (as in get to work!!!)

The GOVEnator, casually reminding me that REAL supervising means holding up a wall while you onlook.

NOICE.

 OMFG.  Teh Room iz spinninG.

Whats worse, is you think im joking.  He TOTALLY steals my beer when im not paying attention, or when im dangling precraiously over the staircase. Which brings me too…

Y’all missed a show with this last night. The wall to the right (that you cant see) goes all the way to the second floor ceiling… But theres nothing to stand on to reach it.  So that half wall Govenator is perched against?  I got on it, on my knees, and leeeeeeaned across the stairwell, propped against the wet wall i was Steaming.  Fun times, and no one got hurt.  LOL.

Priming, Filling, sanding, priming, trimming, and painting to follow.  New Outlets getting installed, new lights, and then maybe furniture?  Although this project is going to get trumped by the car,  i can tell.  More on that in the INDY post i still have to make…

I love dancing, and not just the saturday night kind.  I daydream about it a lot… I think it would be so much fun.  Sadly, ive never actually done it… Ive always talked about it, but i wont do it alone (although one day im sure i will), so its never come to fruition.  But i love watching So you Think you Can Dance, and i saw this on wednesday (The vid might get pulled because DC Productions sucks…)

The storyline and the choreography is amazing (not to discount the dancing…  And i think id Marry that girl site unseen, holy shit!).  But the song was interesting too, so i went and found the lyrics to it.  Wow, did it ever strike a chord with me. 

I am not well, lol.

Jason Mraz- If it Kills Me:

Hello, tell me you know
Yeah, you figured me out
Something gave it away
It would be such a beautiful moment
To see the look on your face
To know that I know that you know now

And baby that’s a case of my wishful thinking
You know nothing
Well you and I
Why, we go carrying on for hours on end
We get along much better
Than you and your boyfriend

Well all I really wanna do is love you
A kind much closer than friends use
But I still can’t say it after all we’ve been through
And all I really want from you is to feel me
As the feeling inside keeps building
And I will find a way to you if it kills me
If it kills me

How long, can I go on like this,
Wishing to kiss you,
Before I rightly explode?
This double life I lead isn’t healthy for me
In fact it makes me nervous
If I get caught I could be risking it all

Cause maybe there’s a lot that I miss
In case I’m wrong

If I should be so bold
I’d ask you to hold my heart in your hand
I’d tell you from the start how I’ve longed to be your man
But I never said I would
I guess I’m gonna miss my chance again

All I really wanna do is love you
A kind much closer than friends use
But I still can’t say it after all we’ve been through
And all I really want from you is to feel me
As the feeling inside keeps building
And I will find a way to you if it kills me
If it kills me
If it kills me
I think it might kill me

And all I really want from you is to feel me
Yeah, the feeling inside keeps building
I’ll find a way to you if it kills me
If it kills me
It might kill me

I realized the other night that there is actually a very good reason i havent written anything- or tried to- in quite some time:  Great feelings and emotions (whether good emotions or bad ones) are usually founded in a strong sense of conviction for what im feeling.  As such, even when it HURTS, i believe in what im thinking so its easy to express.  it comes out in a way i can relate to, even if no one else ever understands or likes it.

Once on Nav, someone asked the question of WHY we bother to write at all.  For me, its really not about talking to you.  Im still not entirely sure why i even post these now… But i felt like i was screaming in to a brick enclosure, before.  But theyre almost always written to say things you couldnt understand anyway, so maybe its a way to tell a secret without telling a secret, but i digress.

Lately, i know how i feel, but i dont like it.  Its lackluster, its mediocrity, and its confounded with a newly bred sense of:  Distrust, Resentment, Anger, Bitterness, and general apathy.  Its no secret that i daydream a lot… Just about anytime my headphones are on.  Ive even had very similar daydreams for years (maybe my mind will move on when one is realized?).  They often just get a new character/face, or a new song/soundtrack.  Lately though, im finding myself cutting it short, already dreaming up a bitter ending to it, and then having to stop myself short.  THIS is why ive been afraid to write.

But the other day, i said something to one of my best friends.  It was just a rash passing thought, but at the TIME i meant it, which worried me.  Since then, the thought stayed.  This is about that thought… But i preface now:  Its really NOT the literal story its written about.  I mean, this is very literal in what it says, but thats not whats in my mind when im reading this. 

But i know i wont be writing again for awhile.  Because i hate this one, and i dont like where it went.  I had passion, and i had fire… And i loved it.  And i wrote it, and i shared it.  And no one person took it from me, but a few horrible encounters later, and im waiting for the bitterness to pass, because right now… Its annihilated.  And im angry about that.  But… For the fallen:

Of the roads that i was driving, of the journeys i have taken-
As the friend who stood- surviving, even when i was forsaken.
Quiet, rarely a contesting- follow through in all your actions
Even though you knew protesting called to you, for my infractions

Standing in for friends i lost, those that couldve caged the madness
Now, betrayed- a jaded cost, attuned to notice- herein sadness
That: the night we walked together, (Mother as she reigned and rained)
As my other, balked at weather, and an illness then was feigned

Steadfast in our quickened paces, anytime: a destination
And the way we chased the faces, lost in angst and consternation-
That id run to save a friend, and sometimes fall from grace, in suiting-
Though i used you then, to mend, and how my foot we then were shooting-

Why im writing here (and granting), odes to lifeless, reverie-
See:  You left me here, im ranting… One more act: mortality.
Not in yours, as not for living, but in mine as you were saving
Me from actions unforgiving, when i crossed lines of behaving.

Thoughts of ‘in together’ preaching, as we rode with Cargo, Dear-
“Never faltering,” my teaching, and the way i bred the fear
For preciousness, my promises, for obstacles were naught for stopping-
And now, in seeing, what this is:  Juggled luck, that now im dropping.

Looked to you, though my control, the way i pushed on you in nights-
One day/some day with a toll, as i teased beyond my rights.
Quietly though, you remained- Ever steady… unassuming.
Til (to save me) you detained, even as your end was looming.

Time: so meaningless at hand, the way i cant recount the hours-
Chained, in idle reprimand, recounting:  we delivered flowers.
Poems, writtens, all my stories, how together, we would race
Running from, madness and glories, til the time that we would face

Myself, in trouble, that was known- and to who- would i lend an ear?
Where once before to trouble thrown, i left it- followed “follow here,”
Now: the anger, breaking free- Inanimate (you are) i blame
That even thought i couldnt see, you left me here, and just the same.

All the carnage then begotten, as all my friends look on in fear.
Somehow in the past (forgotten), im left alone just standing here.
Hearing this: the wake up call, but im asleep (as i was then)
Wondering how far we fall, and if we ever wake up… When?

On a porch, perhaps through phone, in every medium that asked?
What more would it take to hone, To uncover what i have masked?
Back to find a life to smile, something other than this game-
Where i push hard, for awhile… And teach you to forget my name.

Scariness, is theres no answer:  I dont know what holds tomorrow.
But this desire is cancer, and eventually: the sorrow
Must succumb, for your replaced, and now im racing ’round a ghost.
And wondering (each road ive faced), if i scare, or get scared most-

Fade to black as colors fit, as resurrected wistfully-
Its sad- that smile as i sit, and push you farther, gracefully…
But it isnt as you were… it isnt how you used to be
Then again you werent her, as i would have let her save me.

But you:  You gave it up: the wall, our backs or sides went up against.
And so, this deadly game: to fall, my bullshit antics have commenced.
Incredulous, i speak to you- and laugh as you were never living:
Bewildered as this time passed through, i wasnt either, so im giving:

Out a final call to you, and to the ones who could have saved-
But i know its MY follow through, and that i should have just behaved.
But so lost, with no recover, and now how THAT has woken fear-
Why… My saver, and my lover… Why to save, and leave me here?

I dont normally blog when i dont have anything written to share… As im not much on blogging as i am about writing.  But, you ALSO know (if you know me at all) that im extremely sensitive aurally, and that music is the reigning force in my life. 

Recently though a chance encounter (not even an encounter, i just decided to get my condescension on in a debate about the struggle for equality in legal marraige) and i came across this fantastic recording by someone also participating in the discussion.  She’s a local Syracusian (currently, anyway) and participates at Open Mic Nights somewhere on Thursdays.  Im not in advertising, so if you like the tune go here:  Nikki’s Facebook.

Why does this song hit me so much?  For one, im obviously a sucker for a powerful voice.  Poppish as Kelly Clarkson might be, if i was in the room when she sang the way she does, id probably sign over the keys to my house.  Sometimes i hate how much my ears rule my life.  All of my memories are auditory, and that TOTALLY fucks with me when people come and go from my life… Because i can still HEAR everyone of you. :(  Its tough to explain.  Its not “hearing voices” its “hearing memories.”  But its a haunt nonetheless.  A lot of people have never understood why it becomes necessary for me to just walk away sometimes, and maybe if i could mute a memory i wouldnt have to.  But to hear someone voice resonate in person, and have it push every memory of that same sound in my mind, its just bad news sometimes, and i protect myself from it by walking away.  Sad, but its an honest truth.

But the lyrics get to me too, on this recording.  The song (Im told its written by Axl Rose and Izzy Stradlin) reminds me of the same questions i always ask about my day, and about who i am.  Ive known a lot about goodbyes, and ive known a lot about wondering what it is about me, and about other people, that has made things turn out the way they are.

As such, i suppose there is one i can share.  Its not one im overly fond of, not like some of the others.  Pushed to Shove and Ready to move have quickly become favorites to me, which is terrible because they were born in some of the worst circumstances in my life.  (On that note, Saturday is my trek to Indy to pick up the Resurrection.  Its fitting that it will be Black on Black.  And this one will be different.  The stereo will be grand, itll be Low, itll be Loud, and itll be Fast.  Having saved my life once, i now want to turn this car in to everything i can dream up in my mind.) 

 River Wild (back on topic) just came about when someone asked me a stupid question (sandy…): 

If you had to pick between a relationship that was entirely and comprehensively laced with passion and fire, but was also (consequently) tumultuous; or between something much less engaging and whirlwindish, but perhaps a but more stable… Which would you choice?  Idiot that i am, im sure you could guess which way i leaned.

And i had a conversation with my great friend Kelly recently arguing one more point on this front:  I just dont consider myself that Crazy.  I really dont, but i suppose perception is Reality Perceived, and it doesnt matter much what  think, now does it?  River Wild doesnt have the angsty rhythm i enjoy in a lot of mine, and im not sure why.  Too many questions to bother asking, lol…

Isnt life a pretty vision when we only Deal in Dreams,
When we sing and laugh and praise and learn it isnt what it seems?
Isnt living worth the giving when were blinded by the heat?
When deciding that were riding means there isnt a retreat?

We could waver in our minds, and we could always venture back,
As people of the different kinds, and what those people lack,
And maybe theyre the smartest as theyve never felt the lick,
Of the fire that hits hardest; though that fire makes you tick.

The question posed, supposedly: the river or the lake?
Where one is but a rollercoaster, one maybe- mistake.
And one is all serenity; but calm, never engaging.
A subtle price (but maybe nice) if youre notfor the raging

Suppose the scary, took the wary, never towards the ill;
And passion led in to the bed, intoxicating thrill.
If trust was more, the opened door, you knew the river well,
Keys unlocked, with love well stocked, you would be sure to tell

Such river that the giver could, give all, and not be hurt
Although such rivers push us hard, river’s always alert.
Of dealing with the feelings so we never swim without,
The safety net, we always bet, were safe, without a doubt

And maybe lakes are always calm, the water always sound as glass
And maybe at the stilling sight, were tempted then, to take a pass
The river wild, immature child, although it fires all our hearts,
Is just a threat, an unsafe bet, and so the lake’s appealing starts

For water calm, assuring psalm, the solidarity in soul,
Assures us grace, when in the face, of daring love to take its toll
But i say see, whats in to thee, and be ready to stand, deliver.
Life in passion, knows no ration, life worth living, wild river.

I was supposed to be in bed an hour ago… Ironic that its a Saturday night and i will chastise myself for being awake past 10:30… But tomorrow is a nice bike ride around Onieda Lake for the American Diabetes Association.  (That was the bike set up for last year… when i got lost, whoops!)  Its also ironic that i am both- too busy to write about whats on my mind, but too bored to be able to let it go, as well.

Im suffering from what i call OverKnow, and its because of these godforsaken computers.  Ill tell you, its always ASSumed that im the technology proponent, advocate, and evangelist… Largely because that *IS* my job all week.  Im the Holy-Roller-of-Tech in the office, and with wild eyes and bewildering enthusiasm, i try to move people in to the future.  And yet… All things equal and constant, i would return my profression to the days of hand drawing and phone calls, and would abandon the hypertechnology all tomorrow.  But i digress:  I like communication.  Im starved for it, and i miss having people close to me that i can and want to talk to alot.  But, it comes with a price:  Suddenly you get to know everything about the people you DONT want to know anything about.  Thats not all bad, but its gotten me thinking about all the people in my life that have come and gone.  The 9 months i was on Long island were a dark part of my life… But ill tell you, they were a QUIET part too.  No cell phone, no internet, no FaceBook, no IM. 

Throughout the years ive struggled with faith, and fate, and random chance, and predestination.  Ultimately ive comforted myself with the knowledge that there is no knowledge, and that it doesnt matter if or what i believe, as hard as that is.  Having said that, there is ONE chapter in my life, we all agree i need to leave behind.  It left me behind long ago, but a recent discussion i had with Mike startled me:  Following my recent rude awakening, he told me he hoped this was the wake up call ive needed since 2004, because hes just watched me spiral more and more since that time.  This was ironic for two reasons:  When the car was destroyed, i went to get my belongings.  There was a CD from 2004 sitting on the floor, and i picked it up.  Then i realized what Mike said, and decided to leave it in the car.  I should bury the past there.  Well folks… I shit you not:  The Salvage Yard mailed it back to me.  “Thanks, we’ll keep your car… And mail back the ghosts from your closet…”  Predestination aside, what the hell do i do with THAT?  I laughed about it, and put it back in the CD player.  Then today, came more information OverKnow:  someone actually sent me recent pictures of someone from the past, and i was mindblown.  Truth be told im not upset, i wanted to see them.  But man, it makes you stop and wonder all over again… What the fuck keeps going wrong in my life?

Ive been able to take my old walks again, which gives me at least 30 minutes of respite to think every day. I walk under these overpasses and i absolutely love them.  So many things about them are great, as ugly as they are.  I love them even more when its pouring out.  But anyway… Ive had time to think.  I have to say, all perception aside, i just dont believe im that difficult to be around. I think im obnoxious, and i think i can be a handful, but im honestly coming to terms with the fact that i only do it as some people expect it.  The people ive been happiest around, ive been the least… Crazy, too.  But, it gets me to thinking about my disposition.  Ive done my time self evaluating, and i know where the problems are with me, and i know where they are with you (lol).  But starved-for-attention be damned, im too stupid to stop from getting wrapped up when i shouldnt.  And then, im reminded of why that bothers me.  Its nowhere near a favorite (i hate it), but its fitting… And i dont have time to write these days. :(   Circa March, 2008. 

“Three Dropped Passes”

Tell me that you do not mind, when the monologue is short,
And tell me when I say it wrong, that you wont discount rapport
Promise me, when grace aside, and you I accidentally slight
That you wont run, you wont succumb, that we wont have to have a fight
 
For I’m not always elegant, my mouth sometimes an open gate,
And sometimes though I stop myself, I stop myself a second late
And then I found I’ve hurt someone, my lovers and of course my friends
And though I fight like hell for that,  I just cant seem to make amends

And though there’s beauty in the raging, passion in the wildfires,
Those that praise the fire starters, rarely stay for what transpires
Through the heat and in the smoke, and with the blinding orange sear
Though they light it, then they leave it (so im left, alone in here)

The hardest part of hurting many, is the way it’s never dealt,
On purpose, as I write this, there is hurting, that alone I felt
As I sent the words mistaken, never meaning to deliver
Such a blow that knots in stomachs, such a fate to make lips quiver

Catalyzing tears such plenty, reigning down on all emotion,
Lost control, naïve in knowing, history will bring commotion
With a heart that feels too much, a mind learned always to defend it,
(Am I to engage your lives, and kill us, so we cannot mend it?)

Times too many, times not talking, times not worth the searing pain,
And though I know the fault lies in me, in me lays the same refrain,
Wondering, so accidental, what skill is born of words and phrases,
Who would grant such weaponry? (to me of all, the thought amazes)

Then I wonder who will listen, when I preach my sorries ’round,
Who can listen time again, when time sees me again unbound
As the hurting look in anger, some in fear, all in regret?
When their not hurt by what was said, but by the fact… That we had met.

I have two entire posts to write, one of which im debating about writing.  Maybe i can combine them here, maybe ill leave one out alltogether.  But this week has been a mess, on every front.  What was ironic though, was what i came home to Thursday night after work.  A link to THIS ARTICLE was sitting in my AolIM window.  As i read through it, i chuckled… And then at seeing who it came from, i broke down in to hysterics.  You see, i have a terrible habit… I find myself over and over, bound emotionally to those in need of someone, in need of saving, in need of a Rock to lean against.  You could guess why, im sure i know why, and its rediculous all the same.  But thats always where i end up, and there is no one to blame for that but me. 

 I wrote something long ago for this particular person… A couple perhaps.  I dont enjoy yhem at all, they dont flow very well.  But the first was actually requested, in a sarcastic conversation, and so in a hotel room one night, i wrote it.  As i dont enjoy them as much, i combined them in to Trouble:

Sociallite so chased by many, time entwined is often found,

Desirous trysts are found aplenty, distraction, seemingly unbound

What of feelings never felt, of adoration never given?

What of hurtful actions dealt, in disrespect as we are driven, 

Us for watching, her for aching, sadness disappointment brings,

The wondering, when we’re mistaking, less-than’s for the better things

As courtesy, as in respect, reciprocation is assumed,

As is should be, we expect, until we learn that we’re consumed 

In delusions, then regretting, giving trust to such another,

Of the type that she was letting, time and time to then discover

Cruelty, and ill intent, being used and then mistreated,

Then at finding discontent, when that man had then retreated

Desirous trysts are found aplenty, distraction, seemingly unbound

What of feelings never felt, of adoration never given?

What of hurtful actions dealt, in disrespect as we are driven,

In not talking, and not sharing, words on issues never spoken,

Disregarding and not caring,  leaving such a woman broken

As shes taken, so naïve, and always willing to be trusting

Typically, as he’d believe, that her fortitude was busting

Such a story, often said, as often lived and then repeated.

And the anger, that will tread, when such a woman is defeated.

Chasing after, an affliction, for the type that aren’t giving

Sincerity. And my prediction, is the life that shes not living

For the ones who look the part, but never seem to act the role,

Are the ones who always start, but never seem to pay the toll

Though the ones that feel the most, in silence as they pick up pieces,

From phone calls sent from the coast, until it seems the hurting ceases.

Radiant, and passionate, tall in both the body, mind

Articulate, affectionate, and wit of most delightful kind

Class, distinction, and a presence, here is hoping she receives,

What shes seeking, once the essence, of what she is, she believes

Maybe as a dreamer longing, such mistakes stay in my head,

And though in dreams, perfection, but alone, i will sleep in bed

As friends who’ve know the stories holding, hands on hearts, and hold at bay,

As victims of the circumstance, at distance i know you will stay

And prices paid, in losing nothing, (something though), a tie to bind

And in losing, only knowing, there was something, there to find

Perhaps a road to drive at night, and then a path to walk along,

To know with hands entwined we’d walk, and trust, as we sang that song

For friends have shared and hurt together, faced the storms and forged ahead,

As friends talked (in the anger fought), in bitterness, the things we said.

And pushed away, as wandered back, and here again, together found,

And though its wrong, and unexplained, to friend as such do i feel bound

And offer much, though little here, what i could set out, on the table,

adoration, some respect, reciprocation (seen as fable)

Still ive found as often case, im standing, on a porch, this game,

Hesitating, as im mute, for i have never heard my name

Called by you, as called by any, someone who would find the treasure,

As by one, who finds such things, ill spend such days in sending pleasure.

Call on me, ill come to you, and maybe once, our fate will lend,

To not erupt in detriment, when you take courtship, from a friend. 

Irony is a fickle beast… But i find patterns with the type of people i am drawn to.  Theyre around (and around with passion and vigor), when they need me.  When theres something to fix, a gauntlet to throw down, a problem to overcommunicate.  As a self proclaimed fixed, God knows ive spent my share of time rehashing other peoples battered relationships, watching people who deserve better fight for what they want, regardless of how rediculous it is…  But i digress.  Often, i find that after enough time goes by, theyve been helped, they pick up the pieces, they move on… And though we were friends for an instant, its somewhat disqualified after that point.  The irony was, in having this link (the article) sent to me from someone whos done that to me a few times.  But i laughed, for there is some just humor in it.

 I also removed the last post i wrote, because another harsh reality stalked me this week.  All i can say about it, is the following:  “In the face of adversity, when we are ready to lose ourselves the quickest, that is when we need to find ourselves the most.”  Ive often wrote about my different coping strategies… With my angst, my emotions, my whatevers.  Even as late as this week, i quoted Don Simposn (roughly, since i cant find the quote), as he claimed:  There is no such thing as too much.  Unitl its too much, how do you know if its enough?

 But i found a major fault on that train this week… Because there are some things you cant take back.  There are some stations that you depart from, that you can never catch a round trip to.  And theyre expensive trips.  When- by the grace of God- we are lucky enough to wake up another day, we can look back at that departure, and at least speak of and learn from, all that we left behind.  Even if we cant go back.

Through the weather with the Windows down.   And so it was written, in the summer of 2003.  Ive been largely unable to write lately, or unwilling, as the case may be.  In a very unMalleristic fashion, ive been able to shelve most of whats in my head, and throw myself in to work.  I spent this afternoon digging up “Boys,” reflecting on the way we all lean on each other.  Primarily, because i feel responsible for everyone around me.  Ironically, i was going to post it here, but i friggin hate it.  Oddly enough, i dont tend to enjoy anything Written before 06. A lot changed that year, and arguably ive been a much bigger mess SINCE then, but more its about the rhythm and enjambment for me.  Mr writing was much simpler pre 06 and i dont like it, not that i love my new stuff.  Maybe its just that i cant connect to it anymore?  Maybe while my Mental state has waxed and waned, so has my penchant for specific styles.  Who knows, certainly not me.  Which brought me to Pushed to Shove.

Pushed to shove when options lacked, i was faced with honest living:
Talkers mute, as trains were tracked, as no words were ever giving
Methods to a life survived, means to ends- for talk is sparing
Words despondent, not revived, as spoken rarely meant in caring-

So the road, driven before, angst- in pain, as new- when younger
And how we tried to close that door, food for better, driven hunger.
That we sang, as hearts would bleed, disregard for any diction-
through the weather, through our need, yearning to believe conviction

Passed the three, as times evolved, the way the circle then expanded
Every time when i resolved: no falter, then how i demanded:
As acts-out were escalating, towing lines i disrespected,
More of you, left in berating me, to stop as you directed

Follow through, on my own word as i promised new discourse
And the way white lie was heard: i spoke it, but i had remorse
That i meant, perchance to try, spoke in honest want, desire
Still with that, extent to lie: i couldnt have put out the fire

That stop i could (can): if desired, as im since- out of control
But know i wont (cant), fired Conscience, (circumstances toll)
And frustration, heads are shaking, all my closest, then resigned
To miss the fallout, me mistaking: that for leaving me behind.

So commendable, you all, some to stop, to stand beside:
One who wanted a phone call, to reign on me, when i would ride
Many telling, lose the child, be in age as i should, growing
As they watched as i went wild, all-together were all knowing:

I wont stop, but better choices, i would make if i believed-
That the words i hear in voices, didnt devastate, conceived:
In dismissal, in indifference… seeking worth, but not preserving-
Health, for when i need persistence, not believing in deserving

So reflecting, on a Writing, where we stood as we moved on,
Im deflecting, as im fighting, knowing that the power’s gone
That then i wrote my “lets tonight,” that you replied “lets go,”
But you know i gave up that fight, that you have to say no.

So i stand with Roads and Words, the solace in the gap between:
That no ones near, for these “be heards,” in safety, so i will not lean:
On them, instead, upon my antics, as they play upon repeat-
And wonder as the second hand ticks, how long until they defeat?

Instincts bred upon survival, willing me to cross the lines-
Emotion craving, here revival, knowing that this mess defines
Disaster then- as ive been named, (that its not true, i do insist)
But believe (if its as youve claimed), that over distance, youre all missed.

Yet here as i am pushed to shove, know that i never turned on you-
Not on one, for all i love- and this is just the follow through-
That breaks my heart as i survive, but i meant every word declared-
To all of you, to not contrive, i hope you know, i really cared.

Ive been trying to carry a lot for the last few months.  Ive reconnected with a lot of great people in my life, mostly through difficult circumstance though, and ive been doing what i can to try helping.  I feel responsible for those around me, which i cannot really explain.  Where i struggle is that im not always responsible for myself, and ive gotten very out of control.  I dont like admitting that, especially in the light of the fact that i have zero intention of changing.  It turns out i give great “pep talks,” even if im tempted to speak my mind in Subway’s.  Turns out i give great coping advice too, i just dont follow it, LOL.  No, i never “wrote my time down either”)  But im handling my business as i should (and doing the best i ever have), but id be lying if i said i wasnt a hot dangerous mess the rest of the time.  I wrote Boys about my friends who always stood beside, and how i love them for it.  The circle has grown over the years… And i owe more of you much more than i have any right to owe.  Ive shown some of you some pretty scary stuff.  I couldnt, cant, and will never blame you for needing to be distant.  No one wants to be in the blast radius when the fuse lights.  Pushed isnt about my being alone, its about loving that you all were there, and i appreciate it.

That said, ive had to change my ways… So ive been avoiding a lot of people.  In this regard, ive been called a liar, a bad friend, dishonest, and childish.  I can change no perception as there will be no change; i suppose the difference is intent:  Mine is none of anger, ill will, or distaste.  Its the intent of wanting whats good for everyone, and me being around isnt whats good for everyone.  For me, being an Adult hasnt been about getting my emotions under control:  I know that may never happen.  But im learning to know when to pull myself out of a toxic situation.  I still love all the people ive lost over the years of my own volition (i just know they have to be clear of my bullshit too).  I  hope they at least understand that.  I may never have been in control, but i too- was always honest.

Spring is here.  And it looks like a summer of mayhem. 

Song of the moment: Steve Jablonsky- My Name is Lincoln (Thanks Rob!)

That as it is, in my travels recently ive gotten a few lines, and im excited to write them.  Im not sure when ill get to it, but i wanted to capture what was on my mind when i got them.  On NavWorks, they put up challenges.  I rarely play, since i usually only write when something drives me to it (a bad characteristic for someone who writes, but i am not a writer, so i digress).  But maybe one of you will finish one so i dont have to.

I cleaned my house the other night.  Top to bottom, in an OCD fashion.  You cant understand the way i clean, if all of your senses work.  Anyway, though its only one raw verse, its literal.  I have an old box… I rarely open it.  Sometimes to put things in, and occasionally to empty it out in to the garbage. I found myself dozing to sleep last night… Almost wanting to apologize for having put someone in there. But if i cant understand it, im not sure i can expect anyone else to? I might finish it, i might not.  Im pissed about it, actually.  I said i was DONE with that. But with the REST of the HOC falling down, i revert back to familiar territory. Ill get back up, but maybe ill finish it anyway, since it was an honest thought.

The box I gave, the one I kept, and how upon the latter wept,

That may I fight, it would appear, (that though youre never welcomed here)

Youre Privy then, for as this seems, the way it isn’t what it means,

As hearts and hands will have no locks, I had to lose you… in that box.

Today was a lousy day, too… Just for some petty circumstantial crap in my day to day… So i viciously took it out on myself at the gym.  Overly quiet as my life has been lately, i dont get soothing conversation much these days.  But i did tonight, which was nice.  Sometimes you just need someone to idly converse with.  I had a recollection (so horrible) that i shared, about a desolate moment in my past when someone came to me for comfort, when i wouldnt spare a rod or word for anyone.  In that sitch, i gave brutal and unwavering honesty “no, we wont be alright…”  BUT, as i recounted this story, i thought about my friend i was talking with… A good person.  Not stuck up, pretentious, bitchy, arrogant, or someone otherwise engaging in some form of general douchbaggery that makes me want to hit them.  LOL.  While i recounted this terrible occurrence (and all the cars ive destroyed), i just thought *Man, howd we get here?  Surely youre destined for more than this,* and out this came.

Though the past is long departed, some is waning, some more recent,

 Though delayed, a future started, must arise, for someone decent

Whats to come, from all you crying, as your life would then retreat?

When hands to doors on pasts aren’t prying, there’s a destiny youll meet…

I dont like posting unfinished stuff.  My sense of enjambment doesnt take in until a few verses are down, so theyre rough, the words arent… articulate.  Whatever.  Its all i got, “these are the jokes people…”.  Maybe ill get to them one night soon… EDIT:  Its 10:34… so much for my going to bed early!

While i dont write often, i write whenever i have a chance and am inspired.  That means its been spread about, in location.  Home, on my old laptop, on my work computer (Three dropped passes was written at 7pm at my desk at work while i waited for a software patch to install, LOL).  Peeking (which i was searching for) never got saved at home, as i wrote it at 30,000 feet on my way to Florida for work.  Im happy i found it stashed on myspace.  That line holds SO true for me still.

I found out recently that the one woman i came close to marrying (or so i thought?) actually is married now, and a piece of me is very happy for her.  But, as she remains the ONE person who i felt was “fully invested” in my dreams, our dreams, AND her dreams… It was hard to hear.  But, i smile, and reread Peeking, which i wrote 3/24/08… And i hope that one day someone wants to dream WITH me again.

When desire runs amok and when a look is captivating,
(when the feelings that I’m feeling aren’t logic correlating)
Is the dream that I am craving  what’s in image that I’m seeking,
Or is there such entrapment, in the dream that to, I’m peeking?

Passions motivated, and the dreams always supported,
Devotion so unwavering, from love never deported,
To go together, to not waver, two, the future, as we face it,
To the good, and two towards bad, life together (we embrace it)

Laughing often, smiling always, and the tears we know we’ll shed,
Though we know through hard and sad, we’ll always stand by what was said.
Words that tell, and words that sold, and words when needed as were told,
“I love you,” “Always,” and “to have” and not forget “to also hold”

The times before, when words were whispered, as the passed has walked away,
Im waiting for the trust inviting, where I know that you will say-
In Together, In Forever, In for Dreams that for we try,
Along for Cycles, as we Break them, Precious Cargo rules apply.

Say we’ll fight for both our lives, the ones we lived before we met,
And that we will also fight,  for things we haven’t thought of yet.
But say that we will fight together, fighting with, but not against
And say that we are always allies, once that dream has then commenced

Promise me you’ll understand, the quirks, the rides, and all the fears,
(That you’ll know there won’t be answers or some reasons, for my tears)
That nightmares come and I can’t stop them, both in dreams and so in life
(That I don’t mean to wreak such havoc… I don’t mean to cause such strife)

And that we know the road is rocky, as were both of such conviction;
But though the highs and lows cascade, we know such love is that of fiction
Founded in our lives as we, make fairytales, in all we do;
For as we ride such krazy trains, and know our love will get us through.

With poems written, and lived out, and love transcending understanding,
Living in a dream as this is something that were both demanding.
Knowing people stare and wonder, on what faith do we rely?
To hold so dear, to hold another, to answer- as we both reply.

Its love, as love was just intended, love that lights our hearts ablaze.
And shouldn’t it, bewilder us, and set our eyes in to a craze?
And where is it, that I cant find, and wheres it gone where once it stood?
Well that id answer, if I knew, and once I know, (you know) I would.

Part of what makes writing so important to me, is the way you can say things so literally, that the majority of readers will pass without regard, as they only have meaning in certain contexts.  I remember writing this, on the flight (i hate flying…) and thinking it was ironic:  With my oversensed aural perception (along with my hyper emotional… whatever), certain things that have been spoken to me have stayed with me in their entirety.  The fourth verse speaks volumes, as it carries traces from 3 people who have now come in to- and left- my world.  I think thats why once i wrote that verse, i wrote those lines about Say We’ll Fight… I specifically remember finishing that fourth verse, and instantly feeling… Slighted.  But alas, here we stand.  As Jeff said to me today “smash the rear view, and look out the windshield.”  I suppose here is hoping the future looks just a little bit like the past… But not too much.