Peeking for the future (desirous ambition)
I started writing a post on something i wrote last may, called Ambition… It was just a note to a recently introduced friend about my admiration for her ambitious desires… But while i was writing, something funny happened: I was thinking about all of my *interests* over the years, as ive had a LOT of conversations lately on what it is *were all looking for.* In Ambition, i was talking about my excitement for people with passion, with drive… with their OWN dreams. Its SO important to me in a relationship that you believe in one another, that you want to be a part of their dreams, and they want to live in yours too. So on THAT note, i went to quote something i wrote once. I remembered the line “Say we’ll fight for both our lives, the ones we lived before we met, And that we will also fight, for things we havent thought of yet…”.Then i went a little nuts… Because it was nowhere on my computer.
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. 
The Only Goodbye (Ready to move)
I wrote for the first time in a while, tonight. Much to my chagrin (though not to my surprise) it changed direction a little as i got going (as they always do), but i guess thats part of what im dealing with in my head, so if thats the way it has to go… Way too much has been going on lately, and each and every day i look myself in the mirror and honestly try to ask what it is im fighting to hold on to. Im coming up short on answers.
Believing as i do about hope, about friendships, about comraderie, about love… Im stupid enough to carry a torch for any and all who need one, and to play a proverbial Horatio and the Gate until everyone is dead. Today, i decided to attempt what comes so easily for so many others, but that is typically an impossible feat 
for me. Im going to BURY the past. Not out of wanting, but out of deserving. I want to be happy, and- while i am often slighting grace (remind me to post Three Dropped Passes this week), i think there is decency enough in me to pick up the pieces and move on. But i wont do it with the past in my shadow, and you all know how i love to hold those candles.
I will post these pictures, all from my recent winter, and my recent enchantment, and my recent fun. Then, i will archive them and hide them. I’ll hide the notes, ill hide the letters, ill hide the pictures, ill delete the numbers, and ill stop looking back. Because what this Written was SUPPOSED to be about… Is that while i LOVE whats in my past, if it doesnt want to be in my future than i dont want it in my present.
I once promised that we would never be here again, but ive been taught (by many… who screamed) that some promises are bred in Pyrrhic Victory’s. Some promises are spoken, and some are implied. These, we will have to agree, were mutual broken promises.
Its been a VERY hard month. Without explaining, i dont know where ill be next month, in so many different ways. I had an epiphany today too: I dont care. It certainly cant get much worse. I may be moving, i may be getting ANOTHER new job, and so many things are up in the air. What i came home to write about, was just… “Fine. I get it. Lets just do it already.” Because thats just… How i am, these days. Im sad, but im VERY tired of sad. And at the risk of sounding pretentious, i dont deserve all thats happened, and deserve plenty that didnt. So lets get on it with, and get Ready to Move.
“How to Breathe” October sang, and with, i questioned “How to sleep?”
And dizzy, (my head then, had rang), at three to my bed, i would creep,
Returned to morning, press rewind, so i could play it on repeat,
And though i knew my ways would bind, the goal was only to defeat:
A mind that wanted to remain, a heart that cried for “who wont listen,”
So i thrashed it, in refrain (each night), as i would make eyes glisten
Push them ’til their skills were failing, body too, on couch, contesting
But not moving, as the ailing, felt by drunk, for night, arresting
Me from moving, and from dreaming, therein lies success in winning-
Fighting friends, as they were teaming, up on me and my beginning:
Recklessness as i cried out, and dangerous, as i cared little-
Testing this (i had no doubt), that i could shake my world, so brittle.
That i promised Crazy caged, said “steadfast” as the troubles brimmed,
As i (hurt, and then enraged), learned that my right was to rescind:
All i promised. All i gave, for what we had that now ive lost:
Our friendships that we will not save, for ONLY i would pay the cost.
Of standing by a promise made, to those who never paid a mind
To those (who next to) they had laid, or rode with (as friends of that kind).
Though leaving promise by the way, i wonder now why i am hurting?
And what is there thats left to say, there’s nothing, though thats disconcerting:
That i dont fit our social norms, that i believed in something better,
For “right” that i have weathered storms, for you, that i would write that letter.
That im old, though stuck (ignored), the way i feel that time forgot
The ignitron, for circuit board, as its all things that i am not.
Though you loved the “dedicated,” even some “tested in time,”
Discarded, then medicated, relics learn, to read the sign
Past replacement, now in basement, as we used that now not needed,
That complacent, look adjacent, to whats wrong- you never heeded
Warnings, but- its not for you. As this written, is for walking
Forward, and ill see it through, though not natural, i am stalking-
All my feelings, beating down, that is why no words to speak
To you, as then, id only frown, or cry, as underneath im weak.
Tired now… alone (though standing), wondering (since all this started)
(And for thinking, reprimanding), “if since we have now departed,
Have you looked to where i layed, and even felt a twinge of sadness?”
Id guess not, (the bed you made, you lie in) though i find it madness.
Though i said a forward walk, im closing Written fighting tears,
That i know we’ll never talk again, as i protect my ears
From my friends and from past, as both im known for ground retracing,
This time though, i’ll make it last, Tree’s have died, so now im facing.
I would like a “Happy,” please. Maybe one day, it will suit
My situation, so i tease, the notion of a new pursuit.
When it comes, show caution dear, and do not claim “were in together,”
Unless of course, you see my fear, and know, that youll remain, forever.
New Times, with Old Words, on Familiar Feelings…
“I have always been a firm believer in God and the power of prayer, though to be honest, my faith has made for a list of questions I definitely want answered after I’m gone.” - Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook- Chapter 1- “Miracles”
Religion is a touchy subject, and i dont go there often. Disregarding the “always been a believer” i think Nicholas Sparks said it best, in that: I have a lot of questions i may never get answers to. But, the following isnt really about religion, though the undertone is there. I wouldnt even post it, but it came up on the NavWorks forum, in that someone posted a quasi-spiritual-esque post on the subject of inspiration. I dont even have a copy of this with my writing at home… I found it on my old web storage address last night. Reason being, i was 500 miles from my computer when i wrote it… Actually, i was 500 miles from ANYTHING familiar. But when i found it last night, i remember an entire realm of feelings that sadly… arent all that distant from those of late.
I remember our life, and the love that you gave,
The times I hold dear, and the trinkets I save…
The softness of lips at the morn and the night,
And the way that you said it would all be allright.
The lives that ive lived in the time in between,
All the places ive been, all the faces ive seen.
Events that have pushed me, from Lake, Land, and Coast,
All the lives that I have lived I loved life with you most.
The Cycles we promised we’d break through together,
Rest stops where we promised, hand in hand we’d weather,
The trails, the habits, that from us God saught,
The prices, expensive, we knew must be bought.
That price is a place, with not one friendly face,
(Not a father, nor mother, or a long lost lover…)
No one to call, with a cycle just broken,
The price of a familys love, as a token,
The silence is hard, and there is no spared rod,
When you learn what alone is, me (and of course) God,
He is love, inspiration, and everlasting Grace,
In the cold, all alone, he is all BUT a face…
Each day, how I pray, families come around,
The one I was raised by, and the one I had found…
But though I love God, and I know he knows me,
I know they may not, for he graciously
Has shown me, with storms and with heartache, disaster,
That we built a world, that succumbs to no master,
And so no confusion, amongst prayers for Glory
On High, though they mean, that the end to this story,
May hurt, as it has. As it does. As it may…
That hurt as I am, that I wish I could say,
Id love you the way that, our God always Willed,
But that I loved you wrong, and our wrong love was killed,
Though ill beg Gods Forgiveness, from now till forever,
Ill Always be crying, about if id never:
Allowed things so fast, to rapture from our hands,
To dance in to actions with harsh reprimands…
I wonder, if we had kept God in our sight…
If your touch, would ward dreams off, and bring peace, tonight.
There are a LOT of stories in here. Its no secret i struggle with my family, we dont always get along. I can be a nasty nasty person, and they know how to bring out the nasty. There was a brutal altercation once, and (true to form) i had a car close by. I remember racing away, with my friend/love Juliette (the friend/love thing is another post…), and being beyond reason as i found a highway to get out of town to head back home. I pulled over at a rest area to fall apart 35 long minutes later, and we sat there for probably another 35 minutes. We talked about Breaking the Cycle, and being who we wanted to be, and not who we thought we were destined to be. And i found a set of eyes in conviction, that told me i wouldnt be alone as i looked for that road. And with that, we went home. Lovers are great. Friends and lovers are even better. Ive been with people id have never let see that, and they wouldve been stuck with angry-vicious-me for god knows how many days, and no way to calm me down. But a friend like that…
I wrote the above in a house i was borrowing, in a town i didnt really live in, where i didnt know anyone, and had nothing to my name but the belongings i had crammed in my Pontiac. I remember writing the first half, perched on a bed in my foreign borrowed home, and then driving to a restaurant to sit alone and eat, while i wrote the rest. I had NEVER been more alone. I have a picture of the sun coming up off the end of the island, that ill have to post later. Alone as i was, that picture will always stay with me.
Recently, someone told me “Our lives are defined by the choices we make, and we must stand by them.” A few times, as above, ive pushed the lines between a friend and a lover, because ive seen the greatness that comes from such a journey. But yes… Ive seen the end of it too. And sadly, there isnt really any way to go back, that ive found.
Isnt ‘About Me’ really the first post?
So i recently read the Twilight series of books, by Stephanie Meyer. And i CANT believe this is going to be the note i start 
this blog on… But there’s a reason. Ive had numerous conversations about the characters in this book, as just about every woman i know who has read them dotes on “Edward,” the fictitious 108 year old vampire in a 17 year old’s body, with curt chivalry (chauvinism) and abrupt cordiality radiating from his being. That’s not to say i could blame them, but it brought on another conversation i had with a friend:
Double standards of desire. But we’ll get there later.
Someone else recently mentioned the movie/book The Notebook, which- I’m not afraid to say- i adore. In these two conversations, I’ve listened to people wax poetic about these two characters, in adoration for the feelings, emotions, and devotions they felt in their fictions. It got me to wondering: Can you imagine how crazy you would be seen as, if- in the real world- you displayed actions even remotely approaching those of these characters?
Well, im happy to say: As someone who is still naive enough to believe in the fairytale, ive ventured down roads slightly paralleling both (in both a multi-year unwavering contention of desire for someone out of my life, such as Noah; and in finding satisfaction and fulfillment in an overly chauvanistic (or is it chivalrous, thats another conversation) and overly protective adoration for another, and ive got stories to tell from both.
While as i go forward ill get in to the specifics of what ive written, and what theyre were about… I’ll start off with one that wasnt actually a story. Rather, it was the lack of a story.
What happens to those of us that still BELIEVE in love as those fictions depict, when we learn the real world isnt so accepting of such an obsession? Welcome, to the blog.
and im ready when youre setting my whole world on fire,
when the magic in the message isnt that of doom impending,
When i know against the hurting i can fin’ly stop defending
But i dont know who you are, and i dont know when youre coming
And i dont know if the beat i dance to, is the one youre drumming
I know at times, i dream of dancing, in the rain, or in the shower,
That im waiting, for the taking, it will be the finest hour
But i cant know, of who you are, i dont know who, i am this second,
I dont know who, ill be when called, but ill find out, when i am beckoned,
Maybe stronger, maybe fighting, (maybe i wont let things slide,)
Maybe weaker, maybe opened, (maybe in you ill confide)
Maybe Grace will be becoming, and we’ll see each others truth,
Maybe we wont need myst’ry, wont need to sneak as Lovers Sleuth,
Covers off, and sheilds thrown down, i’ll come at you, ill be unarmed,
We’ll escape, the life were living, we’ll walk on, and walk unharmed
We’re all alone, together standing, wondering who holds our hands?
When we fall, were were not pleasant, when were wrong to make demands,
In fear of hurting, insecure, in violence of hearts and minds,
The lovers who will love us best are loving (lovers, the best kinds)
But know them, no, not yet today, for here alone i sit in dreams.
And though its hard, we walk, one foot, in front of other, till it seems.
Were forced to get it right (alone), and so we guarded, rejoin crowd
We walk, and smile, and stare forward, always mute, never aloud
Of fears we feel, and longing, burning, wanting, craving, in our hearts,
Waiting for the dreaming lovers, waiting till that fire starts.
Maybe lit, and burning only, deep within, and waiting for,
A lock thats opened, and unlatched, im waiting: Come push down my door.
Ill be alone, in cold and rain, ill wait for you knee deep in dark,
Ill wait till you jump start my engine, put a lighter to the spark.
Its chemistry, and nothing less, though seeming lost, i know just missing,
To return, im patiently, awaiting… even if im hissing:
Craving for the chasing and the yearing for the pleasing,
The way i know i love the fun, when im giving in (and teasing)
Though the music plays of manic, Worlds On Fire / Tears and Rain,
Its hearts emotion, Sinusoidal, ups and downs, love, loss, and pain.
The game is heaven, when im running, Poet’s riding on his Road,
Bringing just a note, a flower, the way ive seen a smile showed.
Surprised, unseen, or seen unknown, the way it feels to then get caught,
The way i know such smile seen, are almost never done for naught.
Thoughts of pasts, of smiles such given, of eyes that cried (the “happy tears”)
Of hands that held, and fingers laced, together to weather against the fears,
The verse is turning, and i feel it, fighting to go back in sadness,
I wont let it, im daydreaming, no giving in to all this madness.
So i keep walking, and keep singing, and keep writing, out to you,
Except i dont know who you are, but whats a man with words to do?
Write the dream, and hope that someone, else is out there, also sharing,
Thoughts, that theyll keep looking forward, till in my eyes, they are staring.
