Monday, April 26, 2010

just because something has been around for thousands of years doesn't mean it has validity or credibility.

just because something has been around for thousands of years doesn't mean it has validity or credibility.

most of a man's failings and success depends on a woman or lack thereof

most of a man's failings and success depends on a woman or lack thereof

there is that which is unrequited

It's four am in the morning and insomnia is kicking like a narcotic laced needle in a vein. I felt I was in an addict state of mind, deluding myself that I am more perceptive in an abnormal state.

Emotionally speaking, I'm starved right now. Or more like I'm only feeling one emotion that is standing out and getting in the way of others.

Consciously I keep telling myself it'll be okay. Time heals all wounds as they say. Everyone goes through a trial, which seems to slow down time to salt the wounds and pluck the heart strings.

Perfect memories are betrayed by the present. Soiling the emotional baggage of nostalgia. I understand that there are some things that can never be, no matter how you force it.

It helps to think back and know that there was, in the infinite small portion of time, in this vast random universe with pulsating electrons and choirs of vibrating strings, that events were in place for two souls to share a commonality of emotion in a point set in time.

Now would be the part of the romance movie, after the rejection, the mixed feelings, the dance, and finally the climactic kiss by the car window. The scene where the women in the audience are squealing and their dates sighing an "oh, boy".

She draws him closer, in a warm embrace between moist kisses. She breath's out two words, "don't go". And the guitar strums and plays a song that overlaps the movie as it fades out and credits roll. Pure Hollywood editing.

But isn't that how the human memory works? The human mind has reels of these short movies of past experiences carefully editing out the flaws and bad feelings and placed in an enclosed protective memory capsule.

In the past few days, i can feel my subconscious janitor packing those memory reels away, to protect them against time. To carefully seal them away and hopefully as seasons pass, I will once again enjoy those memories of a girl I once knew, that made me feel more than special.

external enemy

the perception of an external enemy is an internal construct of your mind based on experiences and stereotypes. not one person will ever be your true enemy.

Sunday, November 11, 2007


too many enemies to count
horizon dotted with armored horses and savage men

they spit and curse my name
a lone man in the middle of an unnamed land

my tribe slaughtered
my honor is what keeps my feet grounded
and my weapon by my side

lost cause
time stood still
i held my ground

they charge with their weapons drawn
and spill my blood into the hot sand

my lineage lost
last in line to the afterlife

my tequila hangover

bad words on 11/11/07

i heard myself praying to God so he could stop the world from turning.
or maybe twist the world the same way as my head.

too many shots in the head
felt like a concussion
checking my scalp for any contusions

what a weird and warp world I've wandered into.
every step felt more like jelly climbing up my body

that journey to the top of the stairs seems like an eternity.
I think i had my eyes closed the whole time.

sleeping was not an option
dry heaves and spinning ceilings
were in the menu for tonight

next morning the spinning permutated into piercing pain.
i rather have the vertigo back.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

dead duck dot com

3 am in the morning, I look down at my useless wings. They flap with little enthusiasm nowadays. It's the same routine. drink. eat. crap. pee. I long to fly towards the moonlight, it taunts me as I shift around this cubicle. This cold life meaningless. I miss my flock.

I remember flying towards that endless horizon, so far high you can see the earth's orange curve as the sun lightly creeped on it's edges. Now this hollow existence within this paper prison. Life sure has a way of turning around. But tonight, as the masters sleeps, i will try to climb out of my situation.

as I was halfway past the point i felt my wings slipped and I heard the sound of a branch breaking and God turning out the lights.
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