No Need For Name Calling

thoughtless.
but not in the 'what a bastard' kind of way.
just mind minus thought.
stutters because the tounge can't even find the letter the word starts with.
blank. thoughtless.

Hello there? Its God.

Tonight I decided to rumage through the massive pile of old mail my mother decided to gather for me and leave on my desk chair. You see, while I was away at college my dad established a basket in the front room to hold all of my mail until my next visit home. Four years of college and a year and a half of law school creates quite the pile. I would sort through it often enough but there were always a few things I would leave in the basket. Things that I didn't want to throw away, but didn't know what exactly else to do with them. During this period of time, namely 3.5 years of college, my dad would accumulate his own pile for me: articles from papers he thought I ought to read. So, tonight as I was shuffiling through, I came across a hand torn piece of newspaper with "x"'s all over the backside and in his handwriting "turn over". It is an article dated January 14, 2005 from the St. Louis Review. I must be honest, I may or may not have read this three years ago when it first appeared in the basket, and I may or may not have read it since. I do not recall. But tonight I read it. I read it, and I understood it. It meant something to me that I'm not sure I'm going to be able to find the right words to explain. Not only does it carry the significance of the days when my dad used to save things for me [i.e. the days when he still lived at our house, and our family was, well, a family], but for the longest time, almost exactly a year now, I've been buzzing. Buzzing with this newfound electricity that I couldn't explain where it came from or why. I know when it first started: January 2007. And its been growing and growing and mounting into this, for lack of a better word, force that I simply cannot articulate. Its as though the fog had lifted. I could finally see clearly. And the rays of wonderful little thoughts and new hopes and the absolute certainity I know exists stemming from them. I may not know how, or when, or in what form, but I've just been able to sense things. A change. A connection. Knowing things before they happen; doing things in synch with another miles and miles away, and having no idea, only to find out later. Being so keenly intune with my world and the world as it revolves around me on a different level than I ever really fathomed as true. Knowing something had changed, or, resurfaced for that matter: feeling an ache, but a pleasurable ache, good pain, so far down inside me that I knew I was not done--I would become the person I was destined to be, that I was on my way, but only in the rumbling stages, more than a whisper, but not quite to the pickup measure. I know it is God, but to be honest, I was afraid it was a phase. Something that was going to slip away if I didn't take care of it, thought I had no idea what that meant. I was happy. For no real good reason. Nothing much had changed for the better around me. Now, I know, IT was me, or rather GOD in me. The anwser seems so clear now, but even now, in this light, there are still so many unknowns. But the unknowns are turning into shadows of grey, and maybe they will stay this way for a while now, but they are no longer abyss' of great black. At this point I think I like the gray. I don't want the future spelled out for me with no questions. No, I like this buzzing. I could keep the buzzing forever, and I hope I do. Its a game, but this game of life is so much more rewarding. I try to explain when I've been validated or noticed a ray here or a ray there. Only one person understands, and even if she really doesn't (though, knowing her spirit, I'm almost positive she does), she acknolwedges and builds upon them with me. And she's all a part of the buzz too. I've rambled on enough, I'm sure I'll edit this in the morning. Read the article in its entirety for yourself. Obviously I was meant to have it here, now, not then, but right this very moment, the 12th of Decemeber, 2007 in the early morning hours. The three year difference just patiently waited its turn. See if you can't find your turn. If it means little, then just tuck it away. It'll be worth this word count in gold to you...one day...one day...
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VIEWPOINT: Be open, always, to unseen blessings January 14, 2005: The St. Louis Review: Robert J. Furey

      There is always another blessing. I think that’s what I might tell you is the most important lesson I’ve learned so far.
      You still haven’t found all your gifts. We haven’t run out of miracles. You’ve not yet met all the good people. There’s more, lots more.
     You haven’t learned everything you need to know. But you will continue to be given opportunities to learn.
     You haven’t made all the contributions you’ve been called to make. But here, too, you will be given chances to accomplish what you need to accomplish.
     There will always be more opportunities for you to live a full life.
     The happiest people I’ve known seem to be the people who grasp this. They let life surprise them. They look at each day as an opportunity. They live life with the belief that there are always more blessings.
     You see the same thing in good marriages. Although they may have been together for years, husbands and wives in healthy marriages continue to look for emerging gifts in each other. They don’t just expect tomorrow to be just like yesterday. They look for reasons to be grateful. They look for blessings.
     This belief that something wonderful could happen tomorrow usually begins in childhood. Kids seem to pick it up naturally. It’s as if God wants them to think this way.
     If all goes well, this belief continues through the years. It brings joy into our lives. We’ve been given an amazing ability to hold on to hope. I’m not the only middle-aged person who is still hoping to find a buried treasure. And I’m grateful that I still believe there can be world peace and that any day there could be a breakthrough in cancer treatments.
     There are always more blessings. I say this fully aware that suffering exists. Most, if not all, of us have experienced tragedy, injustice, and loss. But this is precisely the point where the faith in future blessings is so important. The good people in Alcoholics Anonymous say, “Don’t quite five minutes before your miracle.” Your miracle could be close at hand. Holding on to this belief is how people get through the difficult times.
     Sometimes these blessings begin when we open ourselves to them. An Irish priest once told me that if you want your guardian angel to help you, you have to ask. Maybe it’s our responsibility to invite, and welcome, blessings into our lives.
     I’ve known men, for instance, who were not very good fathers, who grew into wonderful grandfathers. They matured and began to cooperate with the graces given them. They eventually recognized and welcomed their blessings. They worked to become the men they were meant to be. And, in the process, they became a blessing to others.
     There will always be more blessings. Some will be almost undeniable, others visible only to those who look for them. With blessings, sometimes you have to believe in them to see them.
     This new year will have its difficulties and challenges. But you will be given opportunities to find your buried treasures, recognize your gifts, meet good people and grow closer to God. You will be given chances to learn what you need to learn, contribute what you need to contribute and move closer to becoming everything you were meant to be.
     This, like all others, will be a year of blessings.
-------------

I Could Tell You, But I Want You to Show Me [Your Face]

"But where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
(Won't you) Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do"

"So look into my face my lovely
And remember just who you are
Then go and forget me forever
But I know you still bear the scar, deep inside, yes you do"

"I know where you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
`Cause I can look inside your head"


a shimmer, or glimmer, a twinkle perhaps.
found amongst a hippies stash.
backwards a bit, but forward perchance
dont hit the fast ahead quite yet
and the rewind's been long broken off
the right here and when now when
frothy eloquence wont satisfy me
i'm [almost] sure i could [not] make you [except for] by the eyes
glittering state or state of not
she is me and me is she front to back but minus the dash
and Dr. Suess has got this one wrapped up
just need to figure how to untie the bow
bury me should the God-forsaken moment come
if ever that card makes you think of me.
Culling my trove of diamonds and pearls

He Who Kept the Elephants Out of California

"Litigant,
Disputant At Law is a term used by many and costly to many more. Be certain you know how to tell the apple from the Tell. By a coincidence, my first name is also William. (Clue). "

If You're Looking for Barney Try Madison Ave.

Does the purple make this some how less meaningful? Did the stark black and white give it a different air? ...even if it is my favorite color...purple can be a big girl color too---right? But not too big...I've got age/time issues

The Odyssey, Not Quite, but Just as Much Strife

It was the epic battle between good and evil, each side setting its jaw in fierce deterimination that they were the only good in this equation. Firmly decided that each and every battle would be fought and conquered. No room for compromise. Take no prisoners. Such was the Summer of 2003.

Who is John Galt?

Learn this and you'll understand. How do you imagine a perfect world? Thats a disgrace to imagination and the powers that become it. Envisage perfection of society. What a waste of time. Real-time begs your attention.

"Its hard to make the good things last"

Oversized Ideas

only conceptualized as such by undersized people on their grand crusade of normalcy

"Not Thinking"

not ever so slightly so, but very much the same

constant fight to feel the middle

searching for something in every.thing-creating, because I won't succomb to the lost, without it: I'll see it one way or the back door other. Its there.

this is a black hole the spin isn't able to drag me out of anymore. look at the statements. self-imposed static. the kind that creates those painful shocks.

what [if it really is] a tragic consumation of a life thus far [if even only to me?]

Do you recieve the messages I send or do they evaporate in space, dropped somewhere inbetween here and the midwest? I feel like I'm sending these out into the great black unknown. As though I'll get an echo back of all my messages, only they'll be followed be a post-script: "return to sender", maybe having made contact, but not impact, bounced off.
Where are you?
I'm hoping for a real landing this time. Fingers crossed and all.

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Even the softest part of my mind has grown tired of making the dull seem to sparkle. There are too many black holes in this one.

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Mandatory [Non-Sensical] Language

I don't want your "musts" and "shalls", you can keep your "mays" as well. If you knew me back when, you'd be dissapointed, because I know I am. All this money, and all these books, and all those "poor you" dirty looks. The lump in my throat came dangerously close to screaming. And in the wake of Saturday is where the tailspin begins, and where it ends no one knows. The breath I catch is stale with manufactured regret. So keep your "musts" and I'll just keep praying for Saturday.

Tell me you heard the clicks and pops of the reel too

Remember the night we sat on the floor, discussing the rest of our lives, sharing a cigarette while the world moved around us?

I hate the way a few simple years has turned into so many thousands of miles that the past seems more like a moving picture than the living and breathing and beating it was



---

I thought I was off to bed when this came clicking like a reel across my memory.
If I can make it I should stay up for just a while longer to walk around and hear the birds begin to awake.
And hate it like I used to.

Lucky Enough to "Suffer"

The midwest is a snow-globe.
In every way as terrifying and idyllic as living in a snow globe could be. For some it is suffocation. The same four seasons. The same highschool. The same life, over and over forever. For others its the lives their parents led, and their grandparents, and the parents before them. Content to be happy inside the glass. No need to taste the outside.

But those that are terrified of suffocation...only they really know the true beauty inside the globe. Its when they leave that their eyes adjust to the light, and that they can see so much more clearly through the now convex glass. The seasons and their ability to change a scape become noticed for the masterpieces they are. The once silent world comes alive with a discovery-a symphony released by the turning of a key. And each season has its own movement. They've broken free of the seal, and now the suffocation sets in but from this toxic air. Only one place could ever be home, only once place can strip away the unwanted elements, with its gentle strokes of backyards and baseball games on the radio, Christmas trees shining like beacons through the snow, lazy summer days coaxing you to sleep in the shade, autumn afternoons at pumpkin patches and choruses of leaves offering their perfume in exchange for a good roll around, and the most poetic thunderstorms heard of-professing their undying love for the land and the flowers they are helping the spring usher in for everyone's new beginnings.

----------

Its 5am. Loving the carmel and the apples and the walnuts so much I may be rotting my teeth. But an apple a day...cut me up another, because I'm feeling the itch. Fixes are fixes are fix.

...when the fall makes your nose run but the sun forbids anything more than a jacket......the turned colors and the perfume that they only bring out for those special occassions......when you've lived within it and let it live inside you, you'll realize how much your addicted, if your lucky enough to be 'suffering'...

Coming Down off a Placebo is a _______

I feel like someone who's been on medication. Happy, optimistic. Such a drastic change from just weeks ago. But I'm starting to feel the slip. Or maybe I'm just so very afraid of the slip taking over. And then again, maybe its the curiosity that will kill the cat. I've had my fingers and toes crossed so hard the knuckles turn white. Plenty of prayers. Whatever it is, I just want to stay here. In this state I can dream everything and do it all. The questions barely become audible, not even a whisper. I don't want the slip. Because the bottom of the slope is so far away, but when its all downhill I can get there in seconds. I wouldn't be so worried if life around me had actually changed. But things are pretty much as awful as ever. Yep, its taking over. The endorphins have run dry. I don't know what got them going to begin with. That valley and the need to get out. The bootstraps mustering their own force. I needed to be remined of who I was. Who I am. And I got it. Now its back to the daily struggle. I can do it on my own. I just wish I knew what the magical fix was; how can I get that on my conscious own? I baffle and amaze myself on so many levels. I'm also the most irritating person I've ever met.

I wish I could write happy things and not hate them for sounding sentimental in that gross way.

Throw Away Girls: Once a Lady

Throw away girls
All the right bases
And Pixilated faces
Strung out like pearls

Coll(e/a)ge us together
Up close and forgettable
But stand away
We are the Monets

A living breathing gallery
Of blurred slurs
And vintage oils
Depicting the "Once a Lady"
Now ADorian in Gray and whites
Save for the beauty by colored lights

The pieces to your perfect puzzle
Making us fit together is
Forever a struggle
Because you really just
Want us gone
To have your fun
With the very next…

One is not enough
And the many leaves you lost
She'll try to call your bluff
But you’ve come to crave the toss

So you get your fix
Those sugary salty lips
Repeats can get heavy
But they don’t raise the levy
So the best hips
Are fall backs

And we’ll always be your
Throw away girls
Strung out like pearls
Slurs and blurs
Never quite “yours”

Blame the DandyC Darling

Oh look, you've even got other boys writing songs
Professing my so-called love for you
And oh what an instrument
Equal opportunity longs
To be played
Skilled or ignorant hands
All made clumsy by too much to drink
And too little thinking
Fallen on, barely escaping

Dropped not broken
Shaken and stirred
Edgy elixir courage
Hits happen
Its dirty sexy
Drugs and coffee
The uppers by downers

Skewed balance is still balance

Dont say my name like you mean it
Or look into my eyes
Gave me your helmet
To protect me from myself
Its myself that protects me from you
You and your body's lies
The cravings win everytime

Skewed balance is still balance
Uppers and downers
All for a chance
The days call me a looser
But the nights proclaim
Another win
Another win
Balance is balance

Folie à Famille

"Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars..." I'd never just change my name.
---
I know I want to spend the rest of my life in St. Louis.

I'm just not ready for the rest of my life yet.

I've got too much else to do first.
---
Only two people in the world. The very same complexes, strengths, and weaknesses. And then again not at all. The only two people from whom I'd never hear the word "No". We don't ask. Burned too many times by the anwser or the lie in the affirmative.

The Upward Glance

I could sing about love
From the moment I wake
I could read the great novels
But I'm not sure they'd take

So I've read the hours away
And I've sung the silvery verses
With all the right faces
I've had you entranced with every word I say

But those sweet nothings
They're just that
Little whispers for the taking
Because we haven't yet met

I'll be your pet
And you'll be mine
For never have I ever
Had a perfect Valentine

I Just Want to Feel Something: La Noche Triste

"Spin the Bottle"


I rocked you
You rolled my world
Bounce on me
I'll bounce on you
Never left
Just an aside [forgotton]

Use me, I'll use you
Come on honey, like this smile?
How about how I move?
Its a flash of white danger
We smell the rapture
And you're eyes are filthy liars

It takes one
To know one
I heard the line across the room
Drew me like a moth to a flame

Vampires prowling
The scene of the binging dead

Dead to you by daylight
This Mindless Butterfly
Cinderella she's not
Smeared makeup and hungover
A mere shadow of the Queen

Until the next tryste
And its a different player
Same dark game

Played by the vampires
Stealing the life
From the binging dead

Waiting for the Valium to Bind

Your indifference sets off the panic, knowing you can't help us either. "I wish you would've lied"; its just my way of adding another level of grime, because I didn't think you had enough trouble seeing clearly. Sick of stupidity. My tools don't work, they're over used, rusted and coroded. This mind can't untangle any more chaos. Burning every last connection trying, borrowing against a heavy heart and a credit line of prayer.

Caught in the rain, held captive by the wind. Lightning flashes of memory, when life was simple. Thunder rolls off the tounges of the heavens, whispering the promises of angels. Soaked and alone, kept afloat by the very thought of you.

--

I can hear you slipping. The tears in your voice suffocate me; my heart aches in beat with your breaking. This line does its best to save us, but its only a line, and we're so far away. We are so much the same, I should know how to fix you. I barely have the spare parts for myself. And I'm gone from you. Can you feel my eyes? I'm burning them through time and space for you. I pray you catch enough of a glimer to soothe your tired soul, just enough to rest.
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When you can't fall asleep at night, do you ever think its the fight you put up to fall asleep that makes you feel worn out in the morning? And that maybe if you had just stayed up you'd feel fine?

Fighting the good fight. Dreaming myself to sleep.

It was a ray of light breaking through the smog of the ordinary, from the eternal sun that is our fate.

I'll happily take the rays, wherever they may come from. Happy little random rays.

So aware of being so far behind, of running on empty before the gate even opens. Telling myself that well rehearsed line, but the more its said, the more it sounds like a lie.

My problems seem so insignificant and yet they consume everything. I can reason myself in/out of anything but lately I just cant find the loop.

So aware of why I needed to drink and pill myself to sleep. Without them my dreams are haunted by the day when the only thing I've got left is my unconsiousness.

These lights dont shine as bright as I expected them too, but they are heavier than I imagined.

"Birds are men without sorrows and men are birds without wings"

I can live with the weight of these 10 men knowing you were once mine.

Put another crossroads on the map. Draw it there in red, force me to choose.

Each second thought makes the gap grow wider.

How can I best serve you? I could save your life or ruin it. You may do the same.

I hear myself in your voice. My eyes are your filter. Why won't you use me.

I can't make heads or tails of the words your spinning.

The last thing I want to do is get it all wrong. I'd die if I made things worse. Thats all I seem to do lately.

I refuse to let you go. You could never be too far gone.

I'm afraid you'll hang yourself with anymore rope.

Terrified that I'm already fashioning the noose, in just your perfect size.





Why does the month of August always bring so many exasperated tears?

To My Favorite 10: The Finest Steps

When I'm with you and your fingers aren't broken and your voice is as sweet as ever, I can peer past the night clouds and through to that sapphire sky. Its a cushion for the prettiest little gems, and they are so close I think they shine in our eyes. Enchanted eyes that dance and laugh and best of all, believe our dreams. Where fulfillment isn't only a possiblity, but a promise.

Hearts that beat in harmony, elated to have found another on the same frequency.

Your face in the glow of the dashboard is a painting, proof that understanding can be perfect.

{I didn't realize how alone I was until I met you. I didn't dare to dream you existed.}

Chinks and Chains

"Let your clarity define you".

My life is like an aged mirror, one whose time and the elements has inflitrated the glass and distorted the reflection, changing the features.

I'm not sure I'd recognize a straight line if you gave one to me.

Have you ever closed your eyes and pictured what your heart feels like? Its surreal to see and feel a heart breaking.

Are these chinks? Creating a full set of armour made out of them. There can't be a chink when your being is made from them. You see them as steel and in their own way, they are.

You say I'm out of touch, but I've been stuck in this box for too long now.
Theres a trap door in the back I use to escape, so when you accuse me, just know I'm not really there.
Scratch your worthless message into the wall though I doubt I'll even read it.


...Slipping into an alternate reality...
...The only breath of fresh air life's alotted me...

Holding it in until the stars appear.

Does something ever just strike you as so familiar that something deep inside stirs, begging to tell you the whole story, and yet you can't place it?

I think I figured out part I, but II is still lost somewhere in my subconscious.
--
The hallway I stare down reminds me that life can be {almost} enchanted afterall.

In that precious small town, the train whistle spoke to me when I needed it the most. The shrill assurance of possiblity was always a welcome sound; its promises lifted my spirits every chance it had. There was never any motive for empty lies. The feeling of honesty and hope is a favorite pastime in memories recalled; worth falling in love with over and over.

So sorry to hear about your laryngitis and broken fingers. I'd love to hear from you as soon as your cured.

Make Sure the Fortune That You Seek is the Fortune That You Need

Phase One:

Appreciated for brains and talent. Never given a second glance, much less a first.

Phase Two:

Advantage taken of my "good" looks and body that looked perfect in tight jeans. No one took the time to realize I had a personality or intellect worth noticing. Just a pretty [ordinary] face.

Phase Three:

As the realization of one begins, the other quickly fades. Only by the few.

Phase Four:

Terrified that I don't possess either anymore. Both have just evaporated with the quickest passage of time to ever exist.

I fought so hard to get out of P1. P2 snuck right up on me without realizing what was happeneing. Elated, flabergasted, disgusted, and dissapointed all in one foul swoop. I thought the natural progression would include P1, not throw it completly to the side. There was a very short gap between P2 and P4. Miniscule. There was no sweet spot, only a short slide up on both sides before they crashed together. Now I've got neither. My thoughts and words are a jumbled mess and I couldn't tell you which was up and which was down to save my pride.

Mind and body have slipped away. My greatest fear is that I'll be worthless to you, just a shadow of my former self. The stories and these pages will continue to exist but only in a novel sort of way. I'm really not smart [anymore] and what if I'm never pretty [again?]? I'm so young and so old at the very same time.

The rest of life terrifies me if I've already lived the "best years" and even they didn't come close to right.

Why is ordinary such a repulsive word?

What if I was perfect and now you don't even see me standing there in front of you? I'd open my mouth, but I'd rather seem a fool than remove all doubt.

Did I destory me? Who/what was it? Am I really ruined?

What happens when a problem has become the status quo? Is it even considered a problem anymore? Or is it rendered un-touchable/fixable? Must we just cut the loss and move on, tainted as we are?



Its a cold and its a very broken Hallelujah

Sometimes life sends you a beating in the head, with a nice black eye to match and a kick in the gut for good measure. Attached is a note that reads "Fuck Off. Yours Truly, The blood you thought would never thin".

My world shattered again tonight. I'm not sure where the glue will come from this time because I'm fresh out.

Drove nowhere tonight just to get away. I put the cruise control on partly because I'm too exhausted and mostly because I knew I'd use the car as a weapon if I didn't. I had my moments but the rest of the time I just took in the night air, sweet with flowers and fire. The familiarity of that stretch of rural road and the hum of the tires was comforting. Turned around before I really wanted to because I knew I'd be too tired and would probably do something stupid if I went any farther and then tried to come back home.

I'd rather tomorrow be forgotton than to be remembered for something painful. Buying my first lottery ticket to commemorate the date. It'll probably be a bust, but what better day to buy one for the first time? Surely somehow that ticket will bring me good fortune.

Doesn't it feel like the stars are going to collide tomorrow?

Blue pills and red wine taken past pallid, soaked, lips make a sleepy mix.

"Do not trust your memory; it is a net full of holes; the most beautiful prizes slip through it." --George Duhamel

I've lost a lot through the holes in those nets. I'm having trouble remembering myself, much less you. And I'm sorry. I knew you once, I knew you really well. I'm sure I still do. But I've got to figure myself out for now. Dredge up the good and the bad because this is just mundane and sad. I feel just plain pittiful. I mean so little to myself anymore, so how could I mean anything to you? And its clear that its the case. How did I loose so much? The shreds and tatters of my old life/dreams/happiness is what means anything anymore.
I appreciate how pointless and irritating it is to wish for 'things the way they were'. I hate changing my comforts probably more than the average person, but I try not to dwell, because its sounds like nails on a chalkboard to complain about something that simply cannot be changed. There is no time machine. But I do miss my old self. I'll never get her back, and its probably a good thing, but how I miss just seeing glimpses of her in present me. In my evolution as a person I've always been able to use the weaker versions of myself and develop into the next phase of me. Only now I feel abandoned. My old selves have foresaken me for the playland where schizophrenics drop off their voices when they start taking medication. She pops in for a visit now and then, and it helps when people who knew me back then remind me with stories or observations of how I used to be. Then I can catch a glimer, in that "oh yeah! I remember now" nostalgic kind of way. I know shes not gone, just so far away. Maybe shes waiting for me to change, to get a grip on life. Thats when she was at her best, when I had a great grip on life. I bet thats what she's waiting on. Only my hands are so slippery from the slope where I've taken up residence. For now I'm just a shell.