The Patron Saint of Losing Sleep

Since the last clinging fall leaf let go, I have but one more thing to say. Let it snow.

-one of the phrases I appreciate the most in my life.

Here’s the thing. Stating that we took this land from the native Americans is a moot point. Firstly, they would correct your ignorance by stating that it wasn’t theirs to begin with, and secondly, you, nor your parents, nor your parent’s parents or their parents did it, so the people you’re complaining to give no fucks. What we know is what we inherited, and turning a positive holiday into a shame on you, white self-hate holiday isn’t going to save or change anything, except the magnitude of your own depression and that of those around you. So the next time you start to create a poster of a sioux chieftan with the caption “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT” stop, delete, wait 5 months, and post a forest view with the caption “Where did all the trees go?”. Stick to Arbor Day, and quit trying to steal holidays that don’t belong to you.

Thank You

Back to back, you and I. Our worlds radiate out before us, 180 degrees. We are and always will be everything that this perspective gives us. We see what we want, we turn what we see into what we think, how we act, how we feel. Our perspectives will never be the same. We can’t change them. But if you and I take just a minute to look down, and side to side, one thing is easy to see. Our perspectives meet in the middle, all the way down the line.

I think you’ve looked down every now and then. I’m still waiting for you to tell me what you think it means. If you give me your theory, I’ll give you mine.

Different minds. Unlike each other yet equal, all with different approaches, methods and functions, but all united to reach the same goal.

Love

This place is nearly still
The light rustling of others fades into the background
The din of other pairs pales as my eyes lock onto yours
We dance slowly, warily,
careful not to make any mistakes, circling in our clearing.
Niether of us is sure of what will happen.
We seem to keep our distance, though connected strongly
by a loose invisible wire, it’s inescapable draw going taught.
The twang of sudden tension may well have been audible.
Our circles pull in closer, though we two are still unsure.
What will happen when this strange draw pulls us together?
Will one fall to casualty while the other prevails,
free to dance another day?
And then as suddenly as the tension builds, it abates.
I am sure of my decision, showing it as I deftly take control.
Swooping in to overtake my prey, showing signs of weakness.
Weakness for me. In a flash, the spark ignites.
A whirlwind dance. Rapid. Glittering. All too short.
I finally step away to reflect on the whole affair.
Looking at my work with a mix of pride and quiet resignation,
the object of my lust spilling out to cover the ground.
Love conquers all.

War

I watch the soft roll of the water droplets
up the clear surfaces of my surroundings,
or down, still unsure of my orientation.
My head still reeling without my will to sort it out.
My body in protest unmoving, sprawled
upon the soft cool surface of this pale battleground.
My nerves crackle, live and electric,
still recovering from the overload, your contact
leaving muscles refusing to obey my commands
until teasing fingers bring me back to life
the reboot bringing my eyes to meet a pale red smile.
Wild eyes hidden under unruly locks of jet
search me for signs of relinquishing my crusade
to end the tyranny of the ravenous physical being
now holding me to my place. She shows signs,
tremors she can’t keep hold of, her thighs reporting them to me
without insulation between us to hide them.
Her posture still triumphant regardless, gloating
in amusement at the fall of the opponent she marks worthy,
anticipating revenge all the while. After all,
the war machine never sleeps.

If you experienced cognitive dissonance, I did my job.

People I follow on tumblr seemingly post all day every day. And I thought my life was a shadow of authentic existence…

Are complaining lately.

“Nothing is working out.”

“Everything is coming down on my head.”

“I’m trying so hard.”

The last one is the problem. Stop trying, stop forcing relationships, quit trying to overbuild your rapport. When you force such things, eventually people realize that the you they see is not a natural you. When you give up trying to be more than yourself, you become free to do everything.

When you hear something so ignorant you think your head might pop.

Wait… Are my ears bleeding?

The moon directly overhead
Those who can’t relate in bed
For me, a night always ends in this:
Fading dark, smoke, sounds of bliss…

And sometime memories of a onetime kiss.

My new car is awesome. I got it with less than three miles on it and promptly turned that 2 into 200. Occupy is no longer allowed to be 60s hippie (posers need to pick their own gimmick anyway). People keep blogging bullshit on tumblr that I loved when I was a young lad (pick new things to post about). Third eye blind released a new single at midnight (HELL TO THE YEAH). Also I danced with a pretty girl for the first time in ages. I actually enjoyed myself too.