Ahoy there

Sorry about the sabbatical, folks. Not that I have any readers.
Kinda like it that way, to be honest.

Here I am, back at home. Away from our nation's lovely capital.
Permanently, in fact.

I don't have anything in particular to say right now. I'm simply enjoying the sensation of typing at the moment.

Was Milton right?
Is our experience here on earth necessary to appreciate heaven?
What I'm getting at is: You have to know what suffering is to know what happiness is. You cannot have one without the other.
Therefore, is all of the evil in the world part of the big plan?
You know, "His plan."

Lately, I've been reminded over and over how necessary sadness is in one's life.
It teaches you something about yourself. Whether you listen, I guess, is your own choice.
Which may be why so many people makes the same mistakes repeatedly.
I know I have.

Simple musings, nothing more. Not at this hour.

Yet I love the way these keys feel under my fingers...
Spuds Mackenzie is staring at me.
He always is, I guess.

Getting Crazy with the Cheese Wiz

So young. So attached.

You held my young blue eyes wide open, full of hope.

You were everything.

I didn't get to fully feel it but for a few times.

But when I did...

The entire world stopped

Everything came together in swirls of salty summer nights accompanied by

bright, orange moons hanging over oceans.

I was so wrapped up in all of it..

I could probably still smell those nights if I tried.

Always nights.

what truly fucking hurt

was that you didn't care.

completely alone, caring more than one knew how.

And now, all I can offer you is thanks.

"Soy un perdedor"

How true that really was.

bored on a thursday

Fucking bureaucracy.

It's stressing me out.

I just need to have things squared away,

maybe so I can stop wondering about my decision...

No.

I know what I want.

This is just what I do.

I've never been committed before.

It's what I've always wanted though.

Part of me is sad. I have spent a lot of time here.

I just feel...

blank.

I need you now more than ever.

John Milton had a way with words

One last one for today...

March 25th 10:40 am

Neither her figure formed so fair, nor aught in procreation common to all kinds so much delights me as those graceful acts, those thousand decencies that daily flow from all her words and actions mixed with love and compliance, which declare unfeigned union of mind, or us both in one soul.

midnight musings

And while I watched your sunny hair unfurl,

my musings swift began to fly their course:

I love you with a deep abiding force

and dream of catching you the world.

So should you hope to captivate a star,

I'll cool the sun and bring it where you are.

And should you dream of living in the sea,

Atlantis I will surely raise for thee.

The Power of Antiques

I was sifting through some old pages.

August 19th, 2008

Here we go again. Down the rabbit hole.

You fell before, you've fallen again.

Alice, how many times are you going to get your hopes up?

That white rabbit is trouble.

You were so apprehensive when you first laid eyes upon those lanky ears.

Curious? Yes.

But oh so anxious.

You can't describe it.

The rabbit just popped out of the brush.

Usually you venture in first.

It bounds away, you stay where you are.

Brimming, grinning

Nothing.

Swept up too fast

no time

no excuses

you know what you like Miss Alice

I never write about my past.

Everything I write tends to concern my immediate surroundings.

Given the clarity of hindsight, creatively expressing old events, old feelings, past people...

can be very rewarding.

The distance from a situation has much offer in terms of expressing yourself.

Time perfects the emotions once felt.

Enables you to truly know them.

Perhaps I will try to write more about him, or the other him.

It's been so long.

I could surely come up with some interesting metaphors to describe the spells I was under.

But you... You will make the lines of my poems long

elegant

graceful

and blissful.

I can't wait to write about you.

Ready, Able

“ Life is about the way you perceive it.

The way you take in the ambience of your life.

The way you take in all of the things around you

And turn them into your music.”

There’s something I’m not doing.

There’s something inside me that needs to be released.

I feel restless and anxious and bottled up.

Talking with you makes me realize it.

I feel like I have no purpose.

My life lacks meaning.

Aside from you, obviously.

You’ve given me more meaning than I had ever known possible.

You made me realize there is meaning.

And I think that now that I have you,

I am beginning to feel something inside me that I haven’t tapped into yet.

I desperately feel the need for something.

Maybe my meaning is to love and care for you.

If that’s so, I’ll be over the moon.

But I need to figure it out. Whatever it is.

I don’t feel good about myself.

I don’t feel smart.

I feel like I can’t come up with anything interesting.

And I want to so badly.

What makes me feel the happiest?

You.

But there’s something else missing.

Like you said, I need to sit back and wait.

There’s no good from rushing things.

Maybe I feel like I need more life experience.

I need to go out and experience more.

Being with you has made me realize this.

Realize what is potentially mine to hold and experience.

You have your meanings.

I have my meaning.

I need to go in search of the other one.

"A Warranted Apology"

Why do I bother?

Why do I have this curiosity?

All it does is give me this twisted, pained, lump in my chest.

Nothing compared to yours I'm sure, but still, it's there.

I want to apologize to you. Not for anything dealing with him.

I want to apologize for taking away your outlet. When I wrote to you, I really wanted to be a drifting stranger who understood and could possibly help you. Even if the help was miniscule. I just felt the need to try. Your suffering does have something to do with me.

I've seen myself mentioned before.

I thought maybe reaching out to you and showing you that you aren't alone could ease your mind.

I'm not sure why I wanted to help. I guess because we have something in common. We both know what(who) that is.

I guess thats where my curiosity stems from, this thing we share.

It's odd being on the other side of this.

You are going through what I did two years ago.

And this time, when I watch, or read, it happen...

being on the other side,well, it still hurts.

Well, anyway. Thats not really important. I'm not sorry for anything but my writing to you.

If it had been anonymous, you would still be able to vent.

I wouldn't have to watch you pretend.

I wouldn't have to sit there at my computer and feel you seeming much more mundane and fake.

What you're saying isn't fake, but I can tell you're not saying what you want to say, what you need to.

I feel like I took away your hiding place.

I feel like you are pretending to be in a place you are not. You couldn't be.

That was even more obvious by your latest post.

It wasn't right of me to take away your anonymity.

I know I would never want mine taken away.

I am sorry.

Le Puits Se Vide Lentement

This place is exactly the same.

A few new bridges, a couple of new buildings, other than that it looks the same.

Then why does it feel empty?

What exactly has left this place?

I guess I left?

I had envisioned something different for this week.

We needed this.

I thought everything would be wonderful.

Yet, the worthless mounting of tension

is

draining

me

dry.

My eyes feel like I've been crying for hours.

Climbing up the Walls

What happened scared me.

I was drained of everything.

It was the most awful shock I have ever felt.

And although the wound was mended, I feel there is a loose stitch somewhere.

If we could have just completely moved past it…

But you didn’t.

Apparently something is still bothering you.

And now

I’m scared.

Uncertain.

Looking over my back shoulder.

Swallowing words,

Unable to feel comfortable

Who knows how you will react?

Am I to live in fear of being judged?

Do I have to tip-toe around?

Am I to perpetually swim through guilt?

My head

And my heart

Know the truth.

I’m just a bit shaken.

And in need of some reassurance.

Vent

to feel the same as you once did, only worse.

Like a sharp knife re-opening an old scar.

If its not worth dwelling on, why bring it up?

It isn't worth it.

Thats why I am sitting here writing instead of talking.

Your reaction is the worst part.

The part that tears away at me for amounts of time yet to be determined.

I can't be idealized.

Neither can you.

You don't mean to hurt me.

But you have to look past your own feelings

to see what this is doing to not only me,

but to us.

It just detracts from what is worth it.

Which is you and me.

And we know that.

And we will always plough through.

The Illiad did begin The Odyssey

It seems this blog has started to become a source of my procrastination.

I have a lot to do and very little time to do it, yet here I am.

I would much rather be doing this.

recounting.

I miss the summer.

I miss the sticky air, the sweltering sun, the freckles on your face.

Winter isn't meant for us. That was obvious from how it all started.

One night.

One week.

Four days...

I guess I'm not sure exactly when it happened..

I did not think myself so susceptible.

I had spent months and months building up my dusty bricks.

Laying the foundation firmly beneath my feet.

Carefully stacking each and every brick to make sure nothing could slip through.

Pouring out the soft, wet cement that would soon dry into a cold, hard frame.

I sat down behind my bricks and waited patiently.

Waiting for that breath of fresh air I was sure I would find.

Head north.

That's the key.

Now,

I

am

(ever so willingly)

being

pulled

back

south.

the absolute last thing I had ever imagined happening.

Especially not after I had erected my sturdy wall...

The wall that never wanted to be built.

at least I had plenty of help.

I didn't want you. I didn't want anything, I only wanted to get away.

Yet through your lips, a soft breeze blew, gracing the rough edges of my bricks and mortar.

My wall crashed to the ground. I didn't even see it happen.

It was just gone.

And you were standing there, offering an extended arm, beckoning me.

Did I hesitate? Was I scared?

Sure.

My wall had been built on my back, it wasn't supposed to fall so easily.

It was stronger than that.

Something forgotten about took over though.

Something that I thought I wouldn't see again for a long time.

Something so natural it couldn't be stopped.

"On silly things with wheels of two

we rode there, my eyes on you."

Fortune Fortune, Oh Fickle Fortune

Have you ever seen Run Lola Run?

Our realities are fickle. We have no control.

That's what I glimpsed from the film anyway.

It's really an interesting concept. I don't find it dark or eerie really, just completely true.

If you make a decision, you have immediately made a path for yourself, a path you an entirely ignorant of at the time. And its not just big, obviously life-changing decisions that have immense effects.

Suppose you hold the door open for your elderly neighbor on your way to the grocery store, those few seconds of your time can alter your entire life if you venture to think about it.

Silly example.

We make these trivial, seemingly insignificant decisions every single day, several times a day.

And we never will know, at the time, what effect those minute details will have on us.

So many "what ifs"...

Life is like one big chain of dominoes.

It all makes me feel so unaware. Yet, I also feel kind of free. Like it's not in my hands, therefore I shouldn't bog myself down worrying about it.

It also makes things seem impossible.

How did the universe weave together all of these random, pointless events to culminate into this?

Twas meant to happen, I suppose.

Much like everything else.