Friday, March 30, 2012

I Did Not Know, Driving Those Dusty Tucson Streets

I did not know, driving down those dusty Tucson streets, that this would be the second to last time that I saw my friend (and the last time that I actually liked him). Irish music played from my car stereo and my windows were open. There was a sadness about it...a sadness that I didn't understand, and one that I still cannot articulate. The sadness of a nostalgia for what never was.

I feel the same sadness about you. Sometimes accepting and letting go can be as hard as losing a friend on dusty Tucson streets. Our breathing days are limited and it seems like such a waste to spend them sad or hurt or angry or lonely, and yet we have no choice sometimes. Such fate is cruel and unwarranted!

I still drive those dusty Tucson streets in my head but, by god, if they weren't just a little bit easier with some companionship.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

These Are the First Words I Have Written All Day

These are the first words I have written all day: Me and her used to drink Jack Daniels all night and laugh until our sides hurt but she doesn't (and I do not) speak to me (her) any more, unfortunately, I heard about a suicide and became sad. I read a great poem and a mediocre book and talked with a woman about passive aggressive guilt transference and looked into a Nietzschean abyss and went to the gym and fantasized about making love to you and banged my head against the wall and danced and sang 2Pac (naked) and fantasized about making love with someone else (who I have actually made love with) and stood on one foot and screamed at the top of my lungs and poured a glass of wine and now I am alone in my room and I don't understand where this fear in me and you comes from (but I wish you were here) and I knew I had to write. These are the first words I have written all day.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

She Told Me of My Meanness On a Korean Street

She told me of my meanness on a Korean Street. My friend, that is! Years earlier, in a British glow, a lover warmed up to me on account of that meanness; she called it "confidence." But, rather, that eventually did not make any difference among the cursing and the anger. I am not a violent anything but words. And as I shrugged off my friend on that Korean street I...knew she was correct.

What to do when that which people find most charismatic is also that which is most detestable? Who am I to be a philosopher? Then again, who the fuck are bin of perfection? Because you don't know shit! He who loves little has little forgiven, right? Well you better start sinning if you want to learn to love.

Where is my head? This will mean nothing to my friend or lover, except, to say, that you mean the world to me and therefore I humbly plead to the universe...I'm sorry...(and will I ever resolve this undying tension?)

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Perhaps That's What He Meant by Preachin' the Blues

Perhaps that's what he meant by Preachin' the Blues.

Temporary happiness offered by a beautiful woman in a parking lot as the music blared and the smell of night was repugnant, attractive. I've been in this situation before, I thought, and I began to inhale that temporary happiness (and it felt great) but then I remembered: I've been in this situation before. My Lord, she was beautiful (or at least beautiful to that moment) but when you shake hands with the Devil (remember) the Devil shakes back, God-dammit. So I knew loneliness was inevitable but, when  Good and Evil failed me, like Love and Lust, Hugs and Drugs, I realized that my permanent happiness begins (and continues) with me walking away.

Perhaps that's what he meant by Preachin' the Blues.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I Swore I Would Never Smoke CIgarettes Again

I swore I would never smoke cigarettes again.

Although a half-pack sits on my desk, staring at me amidst the melodies. Because feeling like I am killing myself (without killing myself) reminds me, as I encounter mourning, that I am alive. And, yet, the tobacco stimulates my mind (and nerves) and helps me...think...why is death so sad? Surely, you will be missed. And I understand it was your time. But maybe it ultimately reminds me of my own mortality. The fear (oh no!) of regrets, of dying alone, or, even worse, living alone or, even worse again, living alone with someone else.

Boy, life is complicated! If I was younger, I would've talked to you about it. We'd laugh and drink coffee and eat donuts until I fell asleep. Anyway, goodnight, for now. I take comfort in my melodies and cigarettes, which I swore I would never smoke again.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

When the Demons Rouse You From Your Slumber

When the demons rouse you from your slumber...

Greet 'em, meet 'em, say "Hello...Hop in bed, my lovers" and they sure will. Cuddle and snuggle, butterfly kiss, rub your noses, lock lips, when the demons rouse you from your slumber. Be kind, be true, intimate too...and when you let them down, softly, sweetly, with tenderness...tell them the news. When the demons rouse you from your slumber, it will be hell if you say no (believe me I know) and confusion if you say yes (believe me, I'm an expert) but if you say "Hello...Hop in bed, my lovers" and then let them down slowly, they will go away, only to return another day, but now you know what to say when the demons rouse you from your slumber.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Welcome to the FREAK SHOW, Humanity!

Welcome to the FREAK SHOW, Humanity!

Danger, Danger, pain infliction! Swallowing swords and Vampire erections (I think I recognize that vampire, and her erection)! That is the FREAK SHOW where sharp objects make you Feeeeeeeeeel because (this is what the FREAK SHOW gives us) Feeeeeeeeling pain is better than Not Feeling. (Ain't that right, Boy of boredom, grocery peon).

The best part about pain is the release. Release. Release. Let go of the Lease! A Large Woman who sings Erotic Poetry and Old Men reminisce about acid trips and outdoor sexcapades (this is what I envision at the FREAK SHOW) Hard, fat thighs wrapped around my face and she Screeeeeams in undulation (orgasmic undulation) she says, Welcome to the FREAK SHOW, Humanity! Welcome to the FREAK SHOW!

Thursday, March 8, 2012

I Hate Kitsch!

I Hate Kitsch!

Especially the political or charitable kind that tugs at your heartstrings (I say your heartstrings because mine don't exist anymore) asking you to take pity on hopeless souls (as if whoever receives the charity are savages) and the romantic kind where you describe yourself as Fun-Loving or Laid-Back And Sunny as if I would expect you to Hate fun and be difficult to deal with but I especially Hate the Socially Normative Kitsch where you lie about your feelings or who you are or any of that other feces because Kitsch is the Opposite of Real and if there is one thing I expect from You it is Reality!

So take your Carpe Diem and Live Each Day As If It Is Your Last and I'm Just A Hopeless Romantic and tell me something I can Grasp because (if I am being honest with you) I Hate Kitsch!

Monday, March 5, 2012

There Are Two Sides to Life

There are two sides to life...

One is brilliant, where you do brilliant things, and have brilliant moments with other brilliant people. You make love and it works out or you feel invincible or free or joyful.

The other is terrible, where you do terrible things, and have terrible moments with other terrible people. You lose love and it does not work out or you feel vulnerable or enslaved or sad.

And every day we walk on a tightrope unsure which side we will fall on, never really making it across.

I Wish I Would've Known

I wish I would've known...
how many mistakes I would make, and that it is ok. I hope that you...
don't remember my mistakes, for I hurt myself more than anyone else. I reached out because...
something stuck in my mind regarding how you received me faults. I know you have faults too...
so be compassionate and understand. I am not...
my past, or the same person I was. So please don't judge me...
by the person I was but by who I became. This whole process...
would've been easier had I known. I wish I would've known...
but I didn't so give me another chance?

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Instead of Doing Something Productive

Instead of doing something productive...

 I drank and laughed and ate and flirted and smiled and slammed my fist on the table in defiance and told dirty jokes and spent way too much money and remembered the days when me and her (who now lives elsewhere) used to, instead of doing something productive, drink and laugh and eat and flirt and smile and slam our firsts on the table in defiance and tell dirty jokes and spend way too much money. Not the same without you, Honey, but sure as Hell wouldn't be the same if you came back.