Gutted

That went well

Words rush away from me now
There's nothing to hold on to anymore
And you're onto something new
For all we said
What's done is dead
I'm done.
I can't do this anymore.

You told me that if I really thought
That you wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't want
Then I didn't know.
I guess I don't.

I'm done.
I can't do this anymore.
If you really meant it
That you want to hear it
To see it
To live it
I'll be here.

But I don't know for how long.

Amalgamated

The moon rolls dreaming through the late spring sky

It's just a thrush seen flying through the late autumn dusk

And I'm convinced, that soon you'll see

These summer leaves turn to a winter breeze

Solace my game, it stars you

Swing wide your crane, and run me through

I wanted to walk through empty streets

And feel something constant under my feet

I can see for miles

Snakebit boy on the town tonight

And he's waited all his life

To scrape away grey cement

Show me the world as it was again

High above the highway aisle

Jagged vacance, thick with ice

But now I know, you have to blur the lines

We're waiting for fate to open up our eyes

I can see for miles

I'll leave you with this song that I never wrote

And I'll be waiting for you

This is not the sound of a new man

It's the sound of the unlocking

And I scream my smiles

And I read the lines until I lid my eyes

I ignite inside, I flash with fire

I'm blazing blind, and I'm surging live.

And I can see for miles.

None of these words are my own.

All of these dreams are.

46 days?

It's only been 46 days since everything changed.

And I can tell you, I've grown.

The fire that you lit under me, the determination that I've never felt before.

You wanted to see me do this on my own. I'm crushing it. I'm owning this.

The worst part, is knowing that you were right. That this was probably a good idea. That we needed to expand, to become more.

I'll never, ever admit this.

Ever.

I've done so much thinking, so much wondering, so much pondering.

I've written that album for you.

I couldn't finish it until yesterday, because I didn't know how it was going to end.

It ends with you.

It started with you.

You're in every note, and every cadence, every verse and rhyme.

No, no. the worst part is definitely that you're never going to see it.

That you'll never see the new me.

And all I'm left with is inspiration and melodies.

I'm always at a crossroads.

My feet are always standing between me and where I'd like to go.

It seems that it could be a lot simpler were I just to be there.

No walking, no lifting feet, no spending energy.

It would be so easy. To just be there.

I can close my eyes and see exactly where I'd like to be.

Nope. Still here. Same spot where I was before.

It was so real though. I could almost pretend that I was there.

Where I wanted to be.

Who I wanted to be.

But it's so far away.

It might take me a long time to get there.

I might never get there.

I'm still right here.

I guess it's time to start walking

This was surprisingly fun to write

Doesn't really mean much. But it says what I was thinking.

Beyond a fetish for hedonism and smile that bedevils the unwise

There's nothing behind your winsome looks, no glint behind the eyes

Your association with the subculture that makes you feel punk rock

Is nothing more than a need to feel the touch you've kept on lock

And though your body craves the spotlight even more so than your mind

The fire that led you to your present has burned out all there was inside

You love the way they look at you, how eyes rove about your skin

You clamor for the center stage, despite your glamor wearing thin

And when all the clutching hands finally close upon your waist and legs

There will be nothing left for you to revel in, you opened for their begs

The permanence of colors and the drugs that make you feel

Will ruin what comes afterwards, when you're forced to live the real

Your disdain for your future has not spurred you to be great

Because you realize how you're drifting towards that which you longed to hate

And I rhyme for you in couplets, because that's how your mind has always worked

With feeble grasps at beauty, moments fated to forever lurk

Within the mind just at the edge, but after too short a moment passes

Your center stage was nothing, just an exhibit for the masses

The inner beauty that made you gorgeous, discarded for highs on pyrite

Has been eaten by the angry mob that thinks your dignity is their right

When you're burned out and tired, when you have nothing left to give

Do you think you'll be afforded any honors? No, just memories to relive

The affluent promise of sensuality that flows beneath your skin

Means nothing when it's tossed away, much to your chagrin

You saw a picture when you were younger, and decided it was your aim

And sacrificed everything to reach it, even heart and mind and name

If you find the value of your gains to be worth the price of entry,

Then I pity your remainders, when you find life to be but empty

But with a body built for enduring and a wanton lust for glory

You slithered your way into the arena, fame as your petty quarry

The harsh red of an exit sign falls tragically on your back

Stepping further to the center, those who knew you taken aback

You're the perfect spitting image of that picture that you saw

Your images use the airbrush too, it hides so many flaws

I could find a hundred dozen of you towards the rear of any magazine

You lost the beauty in your heart, you donated it to the scene

Addendum.

It's not about getting angry, or scared. It's not about getting mad. It's about fixing it. It's about knowing that it's going to only get better. And it's especially about making sure that you're not wrong about that. Making sure is too weak of a phrase. It's knowing. With ironclad certainty. It's willing it into truth. It's redefining the world as you see it. Because you will not take no for an answer. It's about setting the world on fire.

Do you remember?

Rebrith. I know, how original. But in a way, it is.

Isn't it lovely? Almost a full year since last time, so much has changed, and way too much has stayed exactly the same. But I don't want this to be something I do to release dark and tortured thoughts, and the depressing side of me. I do that enough. So what I want to focus in on here is that currently, a really bad decision has more or less kept me awake all through the night, and while it still really bothers me in my irrational paranoia, I know it'll be alright. I know I have nothing to worry about, and I know that I'm just being ridiculous. I need to reread the Dune line about fear.

In a complete segue, I think that finally posting here again is an active effort on my part to move forward. Not move on, because last year is a part of me for good or ill, but to move forward. I love that about myself, so allow me to indulge in a rare moment of self-satisfaction. No matter what happens, no matter how, I will be okay. I know that, and to quote one of my favorite books, I know it blood-deep, bone-deep. As long as I keep on going, and keep on striving to make it better, and work for myself, I'll be alright.

Way down, New York town.

Thinking about the way, she loves me.

There's a hole in my pocket, that's about her size.

And I know everything's gonna be alright.

(Apologies to Joshua Radin)

And yes, this is mostly for my benefit, but to make another reference, a (rather long) Roger Ebert quote, "Watching even the more creative recent movies, one becomes aware of a subtle censorship being imposed, in which the characters cannot talk about anything the audience might not be familiar with. This generates characters driven by plot and emotion rather than by ideas; they use catch-phrases rather than witticisms." Well, I refuse to be motivated by such catch-phrases. If I want to be driven by intellect and cool indie-isms and amazing books and video games that blow your mind and love and hope and optimism and Star Wars and Democracy and religion and politics and obscure references and being a heap of useless information, goddammit, I will be. And have an amazing time with it too.