my email needs more cleaning

For the most part, I'm over it. Enough time has passed that I realize it wasn't a good situation. But there are times where I wake up out of a dead sleep and remember how well she fit into my arms. How her body, uniquely cool to the touch, notched in; while the window behind me provided enough airflow for the invitation of sleep to take place. How physically, it just worked. mentally at times too, but I was constantly reminded to not get comfortable in that emotional place.

Its cool mornings like today that I miss the idea of her most. When I was there previously, I made a mental note of how comfortable things were. Comfortable temperature, comfortable caresses, comfortably predicted early morning smiles, followed by the observation of morning rituals. I miss the idea of having the opportunity, almost daily, to interpret with my own eyes such a beautiful creature. I miss that time frame.

I'm told that there are people who appear in your life that, for whatever reason, we just never get over. That no matter how hard the attempt is made, for whatever reason, they just don't leave your mind. In the past I've had absolutely no issue wiping clean the memory of somebody I trusted enough to have shared intimate moments with. This one though...This one is rough, and it scares me as to not know why.

dear world: thanks for last night

The customized method that we all develop to help deal with loss is a right of passage as a human being. Some people shut down, some seek help from others, some ignore, some rationalize. regardless of how, there is always a method established via trial and error that hopefully serves its purpose.

Then, there's my may. For the most part, I accept my reality, but do so with a keen knowledge of what makes for a uncontrolled downward spiral. I ride that line far too often it seems; but i do so in an effort to not take shit for granted. Some people seek a surge of adrenaline in an effort to reassure themselves that they are in fact alive. I think, to an extent, I do the same thing with my emotions. Rarely do I invest fully, for good reason.

It was on a refreshing summer evening's bike ride that it hit me. My new two-wheeled transport came without lights, and once the summer sun had set, the streets became a river filled with unknown obstacles and hazards. Distant lights illuminated innocuous bumps and divots, but I perceived them to be course altering obstructions. Street lamps only lit up the path a third of the time, forcing me to make the decision. So there I was. In a comfortable, semi-unknown environment, with people whose friendship I cherish, trusting that everything would work out as my reimbursement for the decent karma I have projected over the last few months. Riding on a summer night like I had done many times before in my youth, trusting for the first time in what would be the greater part of 17 years, that as long as I soldier on, everything would be alright. graciously, I acknowledged and accepted this moment of peaceful zen.

Then a bug flew straight into my eye.

With a bloodshot eye this morning I wonder: do I accept last night's moment as a gift? or was it a slap in the face from reality, letting me know that my acceptance for the worlds actions was nothing more than a hoax, and a way to deal with loss. There's no denying I am in a transitional period, of which the main objective is to find a new way to deal with things. But how far do I look into things? Have my losses caused me to read too far into a summer nights bike ride? I hope not. Because last night, although insignificant to most, was significantly special to me.

bumps in the road

These days motivation is hard to come by. I'm starting to find it boundlessly comical how much of my life is based on motivation or the lack thereof. After hours of chasing sleep, I sometimes find comfort in the thought that tomorrow is in fact a new day, and the refreshing limitless potential allows me to find enough of a recharge to maintain sanity in a dark, serene, lonely place. Then, often without warning, through the trickery of a dreamless lapse in time, the morning arrives.

There are exceptions. There are nights that the weight of my past choices don't haunt me. There are nights I find at peace enough with myself that I can allow exhaustion to run its course. Somehow, when this rare occurrence chooses to manifest, I'm allowed to take a breath and relax to an extent that I felt often when I was a child after an active summer day. I'm a fool for taking such an immense feeling for granted for so long.

However, more often then not, I just lay there, waiting for the morning sun to arrive with its false hopes which have been imagined over the past five hours. Still air reminds me that I'm in the same place I was yesterday, and the smart money predicts that Ill be standing in those same footprints tomorrow. Forcefully and clumsily, I relocate as the aches and stiffness remind me of how time shows absolutely no remorse. I initiate the morning routine of avoiding the mirror as I step into the shower to scrub away the accumulated grime of the last 24 hours, highly ashamed of what I've allowed my body to become over the last eight years. I look around and focus on the corners where dust and dirt have accumulated, only to dismiss it for a project to be attended to at a time to be determined. I put on the the worn clothes that Ive gathered over the years that have showed some sense of persona which at one point I was comfortable. I sit down in the chair ready to check all of the non direct passive communications that I fear this world now deems as a socially acceptable means of interaction. I search for signs of life.

I then focus on the icon that ignites these passages. Its a project which Ive been working on for quite some time now, much longer than it should've taken. I sit, and remember where this has taken me thus far. I recall the feelings of freedom and purpose. I imagine all of the material positions that this will allow me. But for some unbeknown reason to the writer, I just cant find the motivation to continue its development at a pace that I would call "productive". I know that Ive become well versed regards to this subject and for this, i am proud. I know its where i want to be. "I know its where i will be"

The guilt of my time line. The guilt of my product of change. The guilt of things I have and have not done. Its almost overwhelming. If only I could have better prepared myself for all of these bumps. My resilience is close to depleted.

Until motivation finds me though, I have plenty of distractions. Let's hope that the ability to discard those which provide a negative tone remains.

a brief moment of courage and clarity...

The chances of waking up tomorrow in a feeling of recovery and regret are high, but a drunk mind does have a tendency to speak sober thought. Thoughts that, although repressed on a normal occasion, need to be set free and run their course. With friends around to announce a third party perspective, it is with much regret that I surrender to the realization that Ive been taken for a ride. For whatever reason, whether it be to obtain a level of comfort or immediate gratification, Ive put myself into a position to be taken advantage of. If not now...when do I state that enough is enough.

Ive obtained the tools to be stronger than this. Ive experienced and processed the highs and lows of my current that lead me to the realization that I'm nothing more than a convenient solution. One that allows another to shape and mold my way of being to compliment their own chaotic ways in an effort to provide some sort of stability in a "less than ideal" result.

In the grand scheme of things, Ive not allowed enough time for wounds to heal, but as for the right here, right now mentality; that which applies to me on a day to day basis; the reasoning that applies to a protective sense of self; this is the point at which I'd be running low on the fuel to function on a constructive level. I have, in the past, put myself into a position of self destruction in an effort to rebuild a newer, better me; and i question the positivity of that practice.

I now am not only satisfied with the proverbial empire I've established, but i take pride in it's maintenance.

Take some time. Think about what you need out of life. If, when you awake in the morning and have your first thought of uninfluenced clarity, you allow me to be a part of it, I will be forever grateful for the opportunity partake in such an extravagant existence. However, if there is no vacancy for someone who is seeking such an intimate position in your life, I need to be informed. The scale of the time line can never change, as it is the one variable that will, no matter how valiant the attempt, remain as constant as the dawning sun.

Yesterday's understandable result, although preservative to one, is harmful to another, and is refused to be sustained without consequence. Tell me if this is a falsely manifested conclusion. Tell me if you think otherwise. As for now, I have no choice but to abide by the conclusions which have presented themselves with the limited information that has been volunteered.

This is by no means a goodbye, but rather a plea for communication, as painful as it may be.

Dismissed and forgotten

I shouldn't be surprised really. Its how this works. One day you wake up to the realization that what you had just isn't good for you anymore, and drastic action is to take place. I just remember how shook up, nauseated, hurt, and devastated she was the day she found out that she was no longer a focus of his, even after half a year had passed. She asked me to help her out by no more than becoming a presence she could sit next to for comfort while she sorted through her feelings. Foolishly, I stayed, and distracted from the situation while conversing with someone who I felt was in legitimate remorse for her actions, and devastated by the loss of a pillar of her former existence. I tried to be a good friend. I suggested that she feel the emotions, live with them, map out the feelings of sorrow, as without it happiness looses its sharp edge. I had hoped that she would've heard me, and put herself into a situation of treading lightly as to not effect my feelings in a selfish, malicious manner. Process what her actions might mean to somebody, as she was given the chance to experience them fist hand. Ive carried around this guilt for my participation in the closing of her book, and no matter how valiant my efforts to suppress them, It just boomerangs back to me. I guess this desolateness would be the manifestation of karma for playing the role that I have.

Now I, alone with my thoughts, have received news that I am no longer in her focus, which was the predicted outcome, and still its a stab and twist to my soul. To know that I was nothing more than a convenient solution to boredom. Used for comfort, and then wadded up and thrown away. Further to know that no time was taken to relish in my gifts before starting anew. Ive been pushed aside for a jerk. Dismissed and forgotten. Replaced. Returned to a place Ive been shelved to many times before. I'm having a hard time understanding why this one stings as much as is does. Until I do, I shall take my own advice, and wallow in the sorrow in the realization that I'll never take her to the airport again.

i still cant sleep...

"I played connect the dots with your beauty marks
And I ended up with picture perfect sheet music
I read your musical notes with a composer's eyes
And heard our song for the first time
My spine is still tingling.

Mental images of your fine tune
is what I've been nodding my head to lately
Every now and then you can catch me humming
your nudity under my heavy breath
I heavily suggest you resurrect
your ancient neglected dust collector
If you distrust the distance in my seldom plucked heart strings
Sit stripped before your full length

Perform your reflection backwards
Maybe then you will understand the rhythm in my movement
Listen when the news is sent
Extend when the rules are bent
I'll be waiting to take your leave

Make me a victim of your two step
Make me an apprentice of your body parts
Teach me to dance to your beauty marks
I'm stepping on toes here and I don't care
It's hopeless, it's hopeless

It's hopelessness holding this openness to blow a kiss
So close your lips but don't get pissed
and throw a fist at this vocalist
I'm not emotionless, in fact I broke my wrist
when I wrote the list of all those I miss
This is my poker face, Mister Feel Nothing"

I heard these words many years ago, but only as of recent have I LISTENED to what Sage was saying. I find myself loosing sleep over the idea of yet another missed opportunity while I painfully repeat passages from the piece above for comfort. I find myself adjusting my preconceived ideas of perfection and question my methods of expression to those who I feel deserve it. I find myself debating the good and bad of the past nine months, and wonder how I could have played it differently while still taking in the experiences as I enjoyed the view. I find myself diving deeper into the pool of pessimism, which I have to say, is the hardest part. Its an exchange of childhood hopes for actuality, and its rough no matter how I cut it. Call it growth as I have, for its the only sense I can make of it. I look around every day and see that people, as a whole, are loosing at an alarming rate the class and respect for strangers that once made interactions with others so appealing. It's a hard thing to come to the conclusion that what I want might not exist anymore. I am, for lack of a better term, loosing my faith in humanity. Ive numbed my mind to block out the pain, stepping into the roll of "Mister Feel Nothing" and this would indeed be my poker face.

As a race, we are nothing more than a thin coating on this planet, and like a virus, we attempt to spread until there are no resources left to sustain life. At some point, our snowballing ways of life will catch up to us when earth wipes her surface clean and starts anew. Keeping this in mind, I know that my thoughts, lessons, and opinions are insignificant to the big picture, and will be forgotten in a period of time that will amount to a couple years after my passing at best. Its just a shame that all of these ideas, along with the lessons learned in it, and opinions expressed, really do mean nothing, And the mandatory time spent wallowing in sorrow for those lost is nothing but necessary wasted time.

Two equally important conclusions Ive drawn to invite actual sleep tonight:
I miss her. I miss the idea of her.

overwhelming guilt....

As human beings we are genetically predisposed to find a mate and reproduce. That would be a fundamental driving force of any organism, and insures the survival of a species. I'm having a hard time understanding why emotions are involved though. More often then not, they just seem to get people into trouble. Whether its one who oversteps their boundaries and lives a life controlled by greed, or one who allows themselves to be taken advantage of in an effort to gain approval from others around them; its just a painful way to go. Granted that without emotion, life at times would be not worth living. Maybe emotion is an evolutionary trait developed to keep the species going when times get tough and a mate is not easily found.

As a coping mechanism, I lost my footing and slipped into a hole in which I am far too familiar. One that holds no respect for it's occupant. Although in one hand it serves as Novocain for the soul, and allows hurt to be diluted and in some cases replaced by genuine amusement, it also has the potential to set people back in one of many ways. I was recently under the impression that current emotions were far too much for me to deal with sober, and required its darkness and solitude, but am now filled with overwhelming guilt for returning to a chapter that Ive completed some time ago. Its not accomplishing anything anymore. In the words of the late George Carlin, "In the beginning you start using it. But at some point, if you're not careful, it starts using you, and that's when things get messy."

I need new ways of dealing with things. Its becoming more and more clear that the old way of doing things isn't working out. It, without question, benefited me for so long and I appreciate the lessons I learned while i was encapsulated in the bubble of previous solutions, but as for the evolution of man, more specifically the evolution of self, Its time that I accept the fact that I don't possess solutions to all of the problems I encounter.

Officially, I announce to the world:
"I embrace change"