Self Declared Snow Day...

I am tired, but it does not matter, because I do not need to wake up as early as I usually would. Go me. 

Okay... So, many things on my mind tonight... And I think I really am going to try and get EVERYthing out.

A) Anger/Rage. I need not go into enormous detail, because no one needs to hear about how angry a person is, it weighs you down. But I guess to generalize a bit... I am feeling bitter because I am lonely. I miss the one I love more than I can focus on anything else. It's distracting. But I feel it's necessary sensation. Jealousy. Of strangers. And resentment toward them. Resentment towards friends because of feelings of neglect, and falsifications. A fake face forever... Never changing, but constantly rearranging. 

B) Music. I am really trying here. I have been writing more. Things I like more. This leads to problems though... I have more songs to choose from to put on the inevitable EP. I have my classics, i.e. Rose Petals at Noon Time, Closest to Perfect, Mississippi in the Fall, and the many neglected songs... New songs... Covers... How the hell are you supposed to decide? And do I add to them, or leave them alone, the way the are? Every band/artist has a look, a feel, something that defines them, what the fuck am I? How do I look? How do I sound? Do I choose my image, or does it fall into place on it's own? And my "recording engineer"/"producer" scares the shit out of me. We had a trust discussion. I know I need to trust him. But he is so new, and his whole set up is so new. But so am I. And I know he has got to be having trouble trusting me. You need good credit, and a little insurance which neither of us have to offer each other yet. But I do feel good things will come from this endeavor, even thought I can feel people criticizing my decisions. And the lack of support is killing me. I am someone who needs a lot of validation. And the people who I need this validation from seem to over look how much this entire situation means to me... How do I keep this in check? How do I know boundaries? I feel so alone, and there is no one to advise me. The people [Person(s)] I thought would be the most eager to help I feel invisible and trivial to (See Anger/Rage). Money all ties into this. What doesn't it tie into? I just don't want to blow this all on something that might not ever come to be. Music has been there my entire life, and only when it is my music on my terms do I feel like music is working well. And now I feel like I have an opportunity to turn that into something that could lead to success, or at least a little self gratitude. All I'm saying here is, I'm scared, excited, and feel completely alone in this.

C) Life Vs. Death. I have been having a lot of strange things happening. A lot of feelings. If you have ever met someone who is superstitious, you know how much they bank on their feelings, rather than facts. I saw something that will forever scar me. I felt things from a thing , a place, that make me worry. I heard things that made my skin crawl. I've faced a suicidal friend, head on, and made what seems like no impact, which is so disturbing. I can not explain the amount of guilt knowing that a friend seems like a stranger in the greatest time of need. I had nothing to say, or do... I felt hopeless, and useless. I failed. Somehow by the grace of a higher power, she found solace. Not me, but more friends who are now strangers. And you question so much when that time rolls around. What kind of life are you living that you can't give a person to stay here, are you a bad person? I know why I am here, but I don't know why someone else should? How does that make me? I reached some higher plane and feel different now. I feel like there is a secret soul living within me, telling me to search. For what I do not know... 

D) Love. I love her so much. I never thought I could love a person, or thing, or feeling, as much as I love her. All I can think about most of the time is, when I can see her next, what we will do, our future, getting married, growing old. We have faced many challenges which our circumstances, but we have stayed together. When it feels like the whole world is against us I remember the way I feel, what we have been through, how it is to sleep with her in my arms. My mother has reached a place of acceptance, and I can only hope and pray the others that I have yet to tell can be as loving and understanding. Roughly 126 miles seems a great deal at times, but a rocks throw at others... Right now, a million light years away. But a few more days and I will be the place I hope to someday call my home.

E) Religion. I don't know. What to think? Who to believe? How I feel? I know I need to do some research. And soul search. I still pray. Every night. To the same God as I always have. He has always treated me well, and when times seem dark, a silver lining comes along at some point. So partially out of fear, and partially of gratitude I will keep praying. 

So I guess that is enough for tonight... We'll see if I can muster up some more for tomorrow...

My Goodbye To White Wings, aka. Orinoco Flow.

I want summer. I need summer. I can feel the wind breezing past the skin on my face, and blowing through my hair. Breathing in the hot sticky humid air, you can smell all the green. The smell of the sun screen residue left on. The way my hair curls just right after being in the river. The way the sails sound, luffing as we tack. The rawness the sheets leave on my hands. Cleating the boat at the dock, and jumping off, hearing my feet stomp the wood boards as a run to through my father the front dock line so he can tie us off. Bumming around on my dingy until it's time to leave. Sanding down the main sail mast. The smell of the varnish. The taste of endless orange sodas. 

Have I forgotten my sea legs? Could I still steer her out of the harbor? I have let a part of me die. And be forgotten. The only part of me that was pure and solid, that I was given as a child. Like grandmother, grandfather, father, mother, aunts, I was born, to be on the water, and I have not set foot on a ship, in far too long. No fucking power boat. Beauty is being anchored at the island up river, the sun setting, listening to nothing but water lapping against the side of her, and the adults laughing and drinking on shore.  

Let me sail, let me sail, let the orinoco flow,

Let me reach, let me beach on the shores of Tripoli.

Let me sail, let me sail, let me crash upon your shore,

Let me reach, let me beach far beyond the Yellow Sea.

Sail away, sail away, sail away,

Sail away, sail away, sail away,

Sail away, sail away, sail away,

Sail away, sail away, sail away.

From Bissaue to Palau-in the shade of Avalon,

from Fiji to Tiree and the Isles of Ebony,

From Peru to Cebu hear the power of Babylon,

From Bali to Cali - far beneath the Coral Sea.

From the North to the South, Ebudae ino Khartoum,

From the deep sea of Clouds to the island of the moon,

Carry me on the waves to the lands I've never been,

Carry me on the waves to the lands I've never seen.

We can sail, we can sail...

We can stear, we can near wiht Rob Dickins at the wheel,

We can sigh, say goodbye Ross and his dependencies

We can sail, we can sail .... 

When I started smokin', I was long and brown, just like this cigarette...

I wrote a song. Thank god. Not a melody, lyrics. I had lyric constipation for so long. Only they don't have laxatives for lyrical bowel symptoms, you just have to wait it out. I think that it was worth waiting for though. I am satisfied with them. I was planning on writing more, but I think I can give myself a break seeing as I just completed a set of words, that make me smile. Goodnight Cleveland.

You just know things about Unicorns...

I really should write. Right now. About all of things I am feeling. I am not going to. I will tomorrow. I have time tomorrow. 

Is that it?

I guess so... 

Goodnight me.

You need to write.

Eh... 

Fuck me.

Amen.

Night.

Night.

Marlboro Vs. Newport

I realize that any night I go out chances are, I am going to come home smelling like cigarettes. I don't smoke cigarettes. Last night I tried, to no avail, to smoke a cigar. When you see someone smoking a cigar, or cigarette they usually look calmed. Relaxed. Sedated. The nicotine can just give them a great big bear hug. I want that comfort. I want something you can buy at a gas station that makes me go, "Oh thank god, I have my _____ break now, it'll get me through the day." On my breaks, I sit and look out the window, watching traffic passing by, missing something, or wanting something more. Which leads me to think that these calming-cancer-stick-inhalers just have something to do, act like they have some reason to be outside, watching the traffic pass. Missing something. Wanting. Waiting. So then I think of a small child who has walked in on their older sibling watch Sex In The City, and witnessed Carrie scavenge for her cigs at the bottom of her over sized brightly colored hand bag. And this small child, Young Sibling, does not understand the complexity of the situation. Carrie and Aden just had another fight, Miranda and Steve are back together, Charlotte has her Jew, and Samantha has her pretty boy, Carrie now has no one. All alone, she calls on her trusty flammable friend to give her the bear hug she needs. All the Little Sibling sees is a sexy, appealing older woman, with great legs, fancy heels, and a pretty pink purse, finding great joy in her cigarette. Now this Younger Kid is going to go through DARE, and learn all of the dangers, is going to hear of people going under ground by way of lung cancer. But what happens when Child is walking home from school, and sees a mentor lighting up? It's everywhere. Just like anything else. We put things right in kids faces. It's convenient to indulge, it's a blissful wonderful experience most of the time. But people wonder why kids make bad decisions. They wonder how sweet little Jimmy grew up to deal pot. They follow footsteps. The walk right behind you watching what you do, and soon after, they find another kid who has also been following footsteps, they compare notes, and opinion is born. And then there are choices. Like, what brand of cigarette will little Jenny want today, Camel Light? Marlboro? Or maybe a smooth cool Newport? And soon we see Small Child, driving down the road, where another small child sees. Rinse. Repeat.

Wow. And I just went bananas? All because I smell like smoke, and walked by my wee sister's room. Oh well. It felt good to write. Off to bed. Work at 11:45, and espresso going into my system at 11:46. Goodnight to all two of you followers!

Nobody said it was easy...

...I'm going back to the start. Wow. Online writing, it has been... A while. I missed it. Truly I have. But I feel this new weight upon me. It urges me not to write. My feelings our mine. And sometimes silence is a virtue that doesn't turn the other cheek when sinned upon. Being here, writing things down, listening to an oldie of my dearest Coldplay. It just floods in terrible memories of the person I used to be. 

Solitude. It is my best friend, and my worst enemy. For the past few months that word, and several others have completely changed me. To the core. Values I once thought could never waver, now bow down at my self control. "I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion." Of course Thoreau would understand. God gave me a life to live. And I will live it. To the fullest. But I still need to figure out what way to go about that. With a larger company you feel that you have obtained something great, and this sincerely validates your sense of worth. But lately I feel that in smaller groups I have time to savor the taste of any thing good. Including my time spent alone. Sometimes I feel the my resentment of solitude is only a self built idle I've designed, because it's seems no one should like to be alone. But why? Why can't you love yourself enough to savor your own company? When did that become out dated? 

Love. A second word. A word that I had such a lust for. I craved it. I wanted to devour it the minute it became mine. I searched. And I played when I didn't find it. But even while I played, something was always lacking. Which is why I felt so much dark. So much hate. Mainly towards myself. Playing is fun, but in the end it's not what feeds the hungry. Love came. It snuck up on me, and consumed me. It devoured me whole. And it didn't let me catch it, it caught me. Something that had never happened. I was a sinking tug boat in a storm. Thank god for the coast guard. Now I am fully settled in the bliss of this one small word. I will never leave it behind. The fight makes me know that it is worth it. Knowing I have something to fight for, something I have never been more sure of in my life, gives me a hope. A hope I have never thought I could have inside me. I finally have a solid. A backbone to my life. 

I could rave about certain anxieties, but I am going to leave this first post as is. Plus, I am so tired my eyes could quite possibly fall out of their sockets any minute now.