12 Moments Passed Noon

I tapped the heels together of my flip-flops and told Toto I wanted to go home. Home is where the heart is, or is my heart where my home is. My heart is with the homeless. One day I fear my heart will in fact be homeless. Not unless she holds onto it for a lifetime. Lifetime, television for women. I want to go to sleep today to dream tomorrow. Actually let me walk away, and give up on everything I’ve ever believed in. Believe me. Is it real bad to be fake, when what makes you fake is actually real? I went to sleep last night, today I dreamed I was Robert Pattinson in a field of purple lilies with my Destiny.

Lol.

Alright away with the silliness and in with the goofiness. “Uh, excuse me waiter, I think you gave me a plate of ‘happiness’ with a side of ‘good time’ when I actually ordered ‘miserable day’ with a side of ‘let’s argue all night’ with some extra ranch.” When have you ever said that about your topic of conversation? When was your conversation topical, when you actually had preconceived ideas or when it was a spur of the moment? The moment was spurred when I had a moment to spare. What is the true definition of a ‘moment’? A person at work says to me, “do this when you get a moment.” I have never truly stumbled upon a ‘moment’ in my life, so how will I know when to start working on my task. School teaches us that time is measured in seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, etc. But never did Mrs. Driscoll in the Kindergarden ever say “It’s 12 moments past noon.” When I asked the time. My wrist now says “Creative soul”…not that my wrist verbally speaks but in fact it does speak to those who understand. People often ask me what my tattoos say and I usually respond and if I am busy I’ll say, “When I get a free moment I’ll tell you.” Free moment? I thought nothing was free. Or that is how I was taught as a young lad growing up in Mrs. Driscoll’s class of seconds and not moments.

These are all the thoughts I’ve had since 360+ days have passed since I last really thought about it. Guess I’ve never had a moment to think about oddness since my last free moment. Thanks for reading, oh and when you get a moment, please comment.

What a ramble. Now let’s have a moment of silence.

Oh, joy.

Oh, joy. What brings joy to the life of many – or simply to the life of you? Is it pleasure, wonder, sense of fear or a sentimental feeling of togetherness? Is it a feeling of power, anger, jealousy, or a subtle reminder to be subtle? Maybe lust brings joy. Maybe joy brings lust. To a clock watcher, watching a clock brings joy. However, to a clock maker…the ticking of the clock means less time to make time. Or rather the less time to make clocks? These thoughts bring ponderous moments to mind. To the frontal lobe or to the back, who knows. Only a psychologist should. Or a demonic spirit looking to invade. Exorcism. Amityville. Emily Rose…etc. Etcetera, such a funny word for a meaning of so many. To many joy is a feeling felt when colors are present. Or the colorful presents they receive from others. Psychological wonders never cease. Never cease the psychologist who wants to know more about your brain. They don’t know that all brains are not the same. Or do they? Joy – is that a fragment of life, or a run-on of feelings? Or vice-versa. A run-on of life and a fragment of feelings. Only God knows. One day I’ll ask, that amongst many other questions. It is true that no one feels true joy unless they are feeling that true joy at the moment of realization. They then feel vibrations of pleasure and arousal to the sense in their brain, stimulating joy. And only joy. Joy could be a person, or just not. Joy could be such a short topic of amusement or a long amusing topic. How can one feel joy and sorrow at the same time? The answer is the mentally insane. Let’s switch to something more openly joyful. Where do you find joy? The park? The kitchen? A pizza place? The recording studio? With a certain person? Let me paint a picture. You recently walk into a place. The sun is shining and the birds are chirping. You smell a hint of popcorn and churros. You hear kids laughing and talking about their day, as well as the distant jingle of music. Joyful music. Where are you? (dnalyensid) That’s where I find joy. Perhaps it’s the memories as a child. Perhaps it’s the memories of the future. Where do your future of memories lay?

Same Difference

Just as quickly as summer was birthed into the year of 2009, summer passed away into a book of history. I frowned upon summer just as a person frowns upon the thought of their beloved animal dying. In fact, the second summer had started for me…I felt as if a little piece of me had died… along with the pleasant weather. Summer came and went as slowly as paint takes to dry. As much as there were low points there were really few high points. A good friend flew in and out after a week of time was spent hanging around the 602. May 28 to September 9 has left a lot of dead time in my life. Really, I feel that way even though I lived the life like that life played out like a movie. The critics gave quick two-thumbs down. Ha, who’s to say I blame them. Destiny is well…still my Destiny. I can use that metaphor over and over and – oh how can I kid myself…it does get very old. She is the Kathy to my Regis, the Dre to my Eminem, and the ego to my Kanye. Basically we are one in the same these days. These days are unfulfilling to be completely honest. If honest was to be complete at least. At least I still do not have a job. No one wants to hire me. Well I honestly don’t want to work for them either…so it all pans out nicely. Panning is a quick span of life or a view of a beautiful landscape. Also my room. The clock that is digital reads 10:54, while the clock on this laptop reads 10:55. Which clock is telling the truth and which clock is lying to me? Who in my life is doing the same? What about who in yours? Oh well. Everyone is a liar deep down. While those lie deep down. Frick. Walk a mile in my shoes at least, I wear 14’s. You can’t fit your feet. Like Eminem I’ve had a Relapse. Not to bring back school and all its miseries…but the year started off exciting and now I have relapsed into a feeling of dread and embarrassment to say I walk amongst those I do. Music is slow also. Not the beats. Just my inspiration. Inspiration comes mildly these days I have found. I find inspiration lying under an instrumental here and there…and sometimes under a rock or a Town song. But other than that I am on my own. And my own is the way I am. Speaking of inspiration. I’ve been waiting patiently for Pinocchio to poke his nose. Disney. Random. Wood. Character. Real boy. Not to steal a concept from the West. But I almost wish that sometimes I felt like a real boy. Not artificial like the world I am a product of. Who’s producing kids these days? Everyone. Stop producing artificial intelligence. It’s just a matter of opinion, and opinion does in fact matter. My opinion matters just as much as yours but at least I take the ten minutes to voice it instead of bottling it inside and throwing it into the ocean, hoping some little child in India will find that bottle, open it up, and actually care enough what is inside. Some of you need to send me a bottle. I care. For now at least.

Opportunities Unknown

What a time it has been since my last entry. I feel about as unknown to myself as my four followers are on this here BlogSpot. Ha. Regardless of all the chit-chat and banter of daily life I always tend to find myself in the same spot each night. I have taken a new step into my life and find myself in the same spot I was in a year ago. Searching through all the mindless chatter of the daily ranting online public…to the more distinguished banter of the everyday Twitter celebrity. I find myself on every stupid message board I promised I would never go back on, however, gosh dang I am back. Summer brings boredom…I wish summer brought jobs. I wish summer took away a lonely feeling that I get deep down in the pit of my stomach only to be relieved every few days. A pit that can be relieved with a simple phone call, but only lasts a few minutes. Is it so fricken wrong for me to feel this way? I wish you would say yes…and maybe provide a solution of other frantic methods I could try in order to relieve pain and to get some new symptoms. Symptoms modern day doctors call ‘side-effects’. It is my choice not to associate with the drunkards and mindless druggies that this world brings to my side. But at the same time I feel a sense of loneliness when I cannot be with my only best friend. I cannot be with my best friend at all times, nor do I want to. Even if I was awarded that possibility I think it would be healthier to reject. If I were the type of person to inflict damage upon oneself I would have a cut for each angry thought for feeling ditched or alone…or forgotten. For every time I felt put up on the shelf…to be forgotten just until the moment I am needed the next. No Destiny this portion is not just about you…I feel this way about others at times. However, you are my best friend…besides the lonely man who lives near a city called Chicago. But, Chicago is a faraway land and my other best friend holds a busy schedule. Let me hand you a pencil and write my name down for Friday. Friday works best for me. Maybe even I can treat you to dinner at a fine dining restaurant tomorrow night. We will see what my schedule holds. Tomorrow will come and it will hold the same sights as it did for me today. It will hold empty lines and unknown ink stains. I guess the only excuse I could give is because I have no pen in distance to write my schedule. Or secretly not tell the world there is nothing worth writing down…until Friday. Flip the page a week or two and maybe some fun things will be seen but the loneliness stretches throughout much farer. Sounding emo is bad these days…I am farthest from emo, however, my feelings sometimes do get the best of me and writing is a way to release. Yungtown moved and Bravado is unheard of…so I cannot do music. Not to mention my music is unheard of bad and should not even be heard or thought up for that matter. One day I will write in my schedule something for me to do…in the meantime I sit and wait for an unexpected opportunity to leave the darkness of my bedroom.

Love is in the Air

Love is in the air, I was just lucky enough to breathe it.

She read it. I was afraid of that. Even though I regret bringing it up, I’m glad I did. Parallel thoughts always seem to invade my mind. In fact she’s talking to me as I write this. Her voice is present in my mind at this moment. Caressing my one new sense. My favorite sense. The sense of her. If I did in fact bomb Tokyo, Paris, London, New York, Australia, Rome, and Florida…Baby just for you I would re-build every location with my own hands. Just so I could see the happiness in your eyes and a smile on your gorgeous face. You just hung up the phone. I miss you already. To see you all I have to do is minimize, but it is simply not the same. I do like the fact however, that when I do minimize I get a kiss from you every time. The fact I even said I would erase you from my memory both haunts me and angers me. Baby, imagine erasing all of your memory up until the point of reading this sentence. You would feel lost, alone, confused. If I had erased you, I imagine my feelings would be the same multiplied by 1,000. I took my jacket back in a figurative sense, but next time I see you I will give it back. Literally. I want you to have some piece of me, so you can think of me. Sense me. Touch me. Love me…wherever you go. I was right that you are not my beautiful assistant though. I have come to realize you are the magician and I am simply the lucky contestant you chose from the audience. Now you work your magic on me. I love it. I’m glad you decided to make me apart of your show. However, it is not just a show. It is much more, it is your life. My life. Our lives. Maybe I can become a permanent helper. I’d love that. That would be a perfect fairy tale ending. Up until last night I did not realize that I could care for you anymore. You surprised me, pleasantly. In neither of the past two blogs have I mentioned God. I guess for the simple fact we never really did either. Until last night. Which makes me love you so much more. Because God is the one who brought us together and is holding us in place. He is the one who influenced the air to move in a way only noticeable to us. Love is in the air I have noticed. But I’ve also taken into account all the people that do not know the feeling I feel. I feel terrible for them that they have not had the chance to feel so happy and so lucky. This time of the year is supposed to be the most joyous and I think that is why I am not in the spirit. Because I feel more joyful when I am with you than I would opening any gift or singing any Christmas carol. I was afraid that break would make us grow apart in a sense. Ironically, I think we’ve gotten a lot closer than I thought we would. I love that. It’s been four days since we’ve last seen each other and if you ask me…I think four days is too much. Which frustrates me. But like you said, at least we get to talk. Love is in the air. Did you breathe it into my lungs or me into yours? Or did our breath meet halfway and intertwine into each other and invade our lungs and seep into our hearts. I think the latter. I have come to realize, or just accept the fact that our relationship is neither you nor I. It is us. Neither of you nor I won, we both won. I love you more than you can know. I am glad I can never comprehend your love for me either. Our feelings are inevitably mutual.

Pause, Rewind, Re-Record

I was right. I was wrong. I’ve fallen victim of this arrow tip. I’ve always wondered what it was like to get shot by Cupid. Weird comparison. Weird feelings. Weird situation. Better weird than boring, I like this new weird. Forget the scale of 10’s. This new weird involves a new scale. Percentage. Your percentage started long before my time, but mine rose higher in less. Is higher the best? Simply, yes. Baby, I miss you right now. I love you right now. 105/100%. “I lov…miss you!” is what you said. Laughing hard I did not know you meant it. You wanted me to say it. Sorry baby. I did mean it though on Sunday. Love equals an extremely meaningful word, especially for just one syllable. If my chest did not feel this pressure of excitement I would not have said I love you. Heart is located in the chest. Love equals heart. Therefore, heart equals love. You mentioned last night how you liked my heart beat pressed up onto yours. I like it too. Ever since December 9th I have not had the ability to keep my lips from yours. But neither can you. Nor can I keep my mind from you. Last night I saw you in my dreams and now I cannot wait to go to sleep. Oh, you did what you were welcome to. I was right again that I was wrong. If someone were to ask what I want for this Christmas I would tell them I already got it. The only way it would be better would be to hold you in my arms all day. Watch a movie. Well, attempt it. I want to take you anywhere you want. If it exists I want to take you to both ends of a Rainbow. It exists now. As of now we haven’t talked since 3 AM. Call me now. I’m tired of remembering your voice from memory. Rainbow…Let’s walk into the street in the midst of the rain. Kiss. The rain will turn to snow. I’ll take you to each end of the bow. Someday We’ll Know if the captain of the Titanic cried. Someday I’ll buy us a ticket to the end of the rainbow even if it’s 90 miles outside Chicago. Back to touch. Back to love. Back to us. Back to school, so I can see you everyday. But I cannot complain. I cannot complain because I cannot see pain. I see pain when we are apart. Kiss me so I can shut up. Mwuah.

"I'm Cold"

If you’re cold then let me warm you up. I have the capability, but do you have the ability to accept? She said all these times where I was welcome to, but I questioned what I was really welcome to. I mean an invitation could be extended to a certain extent where the meaning is masked by a secret desire to remain alone. But why would you throw yourself into the water when you would turn your nose up to the rescuer, which resulted in you drowning. Death? The death is questionable because I really do not know your intentions as always. Nothing is new, nothing is ever new. I was your rescuer at a time, but this is December first and I have morphed into a shark, becoming the one to pull at your feet as you stay afloat on the water, only to eventually pull you under. Yes, death. If you were a feeling incrusted into my skin, or God-forbid, my mind - then I would commit suicide from the constant appearance of this new feeling. I can touch cold, I can touch warm, I can touch you. My skin will forever remain petrified by that touch, nagging at my mind, the same one you are embedded on, always reminding me of your texture and each curve each intricate curve in your fingerprints. If I wanted to stroke your hand once more, I couldn’t, just because you never missed my touch in the first place. If at first hate, got in the way, yeah I read you that poem. As usual you didn’t care, but my heart speaks out in ways in which you wouldn’t understand even if you did care. Remember when you sang twinkle twinkle little star, I laughed and created my own version. Your name alone makes me think about my life. You didn’t miss me til’ I brought it up. I am going to bomb Tokyo, and Paris, and while I am at it…London too. In fact, let me take New York, Australia, Rome, and Florida with me too. That way we could never go. The butterfly’s wings were not permanent either, I was wrong again. I was wrong again? Whenever we spoke and had a disagreement I was always right, but I was wrong for talking to you in the first place. So does that erase my rights and make me completely wrong? “Houston, we have a problem,” because now that I am in space my equipment is not working properly, in turn leaving me alone, focused on my sense, including my new one. Basically, Always Better Yourself, right babe? You taught me something, too bad once I erase you from my memory I will have forgotten what I’ve learned. That screwed up my fairy tale ending. Now I’m barely descending this hill of snow when you tell me you are cold. Willingly I offered you my jacket, which you accepted. I woke up, with new memories of you…even though I hadn’t seen you in 4 days. Ironically, you did as well. I opened my eyes and you were right there smiling, with your hand on mine. Suddenly I reverted to the labyrinth of your touch and I refused magic. I am Houdini, but you are not my beautiful assistant…anymore. However, your beauty remains. Open this box, I will be gone. To add danger to the situation, shoot bullets, or just call me baby. As of this moment all these feelings could be wrong now, and hopefully will be wrong later. Oh yeah, I want my jacket back. I will most likely talk to you tomorrow, but for right now I’m cold. Mmhm, you won, nhuhuh.