It's time to understand classical music.

I hate the fact that alcohol is more comforting and dependable than I could ever be.

for all the beer you drink,

and all the sad you think --

you still wonder why you're cold.

just keep your lover close

and don't seem too morose, 

because you've still got a hand to hold.

godfuckingdamnit

Where's my head?

You work magic, little boy. Now go home, before someone gets hurt real bad.

At certain moments in life, I wish consequences were of no consequence.

How far is too far?

How to Fight Loneliness

I wish my bed were smaller so that I wouldn't feel so dreadfully alone.

Julie

julie, there's a letter in the mail from me

it's marked with blood from Wounded Knee

and sets atop the postman's tree.

oh julie, won't you come down for me.

set fire to your benches 

burning brightly in my eyes.

the sky upon the light around you and you're burning awful bright

but dear the world's half as open with a house that's so contrite

i know you're waiting for a poet or a muse to light my way

but times are hard and there's no knowing when i'll have that much to say.

julie, there's a hole inside us all,

that fills with hope each time we fall,

so that our eyes never know.

oh truly, i love you more this day than last,

i hope the days move awful fast

until the love comes pouring out.

I don't know why I should write, anymore.

I will admit, every day it gets harder to breathe. I think that I may stop, soon.

Belief

You know, when a person is growing up, they often wonder whether it's possible to love more than one person in their lifetime. If the answer isn't 'Yes', then love is not worth it. It's just such a silly sentiment.
   I lost my romance, some ways back. It was somewhere between falling for Cassie and pushing me past her and bashing my face into the ground. Do I choose the wrong battles to fight? Probably. Who will really ever know. It'd be nice if I became famous someday, and people closely examined my life so that I wouldn't be stuck wonder what was really worth fighting for.
   Inevitably, now there's just me. Welcome? Yea. It's here on out, now. Forward motion. That's it. Me.

Bienvenue à la vie isolée.

a situation is no diagnosis for a majority

I'm pretty sure that I'm partially schizophrenic, and that it may be the reason I never make sense. It may also be why I am such a good actor.

It makes me think of a premise for a story where an actor is world-renowned for his skill, but is tortured by the demons of his mind, the fruits of his success.

I'm a method actor. 

Today is a day when my spirit is broken. Thumbs-down, citizens.

All's Well That Ends Well

It's a phrase that I never liked.

Having a situation that goes well all the way through is something that requires intensive planning, so having a Real Life situation go well all the way through is relatively rare.

Today's 'Superbowl Sunday', which means that people will be celebrating the sabbath with their best friends, Coors, Miller and Bud. Here's to driving home at 10pm and avoiding the drunks. Heil Superbowl Sunday.

   We're going to try to put the game up on the televisions. Hopefully it works.

My life doesn't get many exciting things anymore. I just live in fantasies. How sad... Love is still existent, though. I just wish I was proved right.

you're still in my phone

still on my list,

still in my pages.

your polaroid is still in my car.

poetry sown for you lies yet in my journals.

you are a piece of my life that, like many other things, will remain a mystery of dropped calls/ opportunities/ hopes/ love.

i feel it. 

it's like some kind of 

death.

maybe 

more like a bit of life.

my honey-bee.

you stung me, 

please

hope you haven't died yet.

i feel you

like

some kind of tendon that got pulled

[jostled]

the wrong way, 

yanked from my sinew like

someone meant to kill me.

are you the bullet, darling?

or are you the gun. 

were you the gun, i'd mean never to dispatch you.

were you the bullet, then i'd rather catch you 

'tween my teeth and hold you here inside me.

you were a love affair

that's what i've established.

it's been bothering me for the weeks, now; that's it.

i made it quick, said the right things,

pushed your buttons, touched you in the right places...

it's all a dance.

a macabre dance that we entertained while our lovers were miles away. 

it was permissible, yes. what irony, then, when you gave up.

it was unexpected, 

like having your surgeon withdraw the scalpel in mid-slice,

like a dentist who left the flouride in,

like a chef who forgot to put the fire out and left,

like you and me, quickly simmering and dying in the morning light.

i claimed you from him. you know that.

i'm no thief, though. i didn't steal you.

i offered myself, and you conceded. 

i am not a thief. your heart was mine.

our eyes met, and your heart was mine.

it wasn't as though i was forced to 

say the right things

touch you correctly

whisper at the right moment

stand in the right place

it was all a dance that i felt from within

a dance that never quite ended

maybe it is a symphony...

one that we won't understand until we're married,

and suddenly we remember that fateful day...

sitting on a couch in the morning, 

dusty sunlight pouring in through the tightly-slatted blinds.

your eyes met mine [those piercing grey eyes],

and it was as though you hooked me,

and like some perturbed fish, i writhed in the waters,

in this sea that we bathed in together.

misery loves its company, and i love yours.

I can't miss you anymore.

on mornings like this, i am reminded of your smile.

I am so tired. Tired. My fingers are crazy.

My hands don't make sense, either. In any case, my world is spinning so strangely, of late. There's this girl, a hope, a desire and a direction; my mind is blind.

Better that eye than thine, miss adeline.

I've had a splitting headache since 4pm. It ended at midnight. Sharp.

Uggghhh... I need to meet a bunch of attractive people. Immediately. Please, I need something to feed that narcissistically egotistical side of me that no one ever gets to see.

Afterward, I'll go back to the quiet me that doesn't look at people. 

ineedarelease

Dearest Desire:

Refreshed, are you? Probably.

I recently got a job at Target. I'm going to be working in the Electronics department. My mind is a mess, though. Things look rather hectic; I don't know if I can handle it. I just need to go to sleep, now.

My heart is rejuvenated, however. It's all because of you, and I never want you gone. You are my water in summer. My hood on a windy day. I am your breeze in the blazing heat. The palm lying on your saddened eyelids.

I want to be your shoulder. Your heartstrings. Your sunlight.

But after anything; beyond all my love, desire and hope: I am your abounding friend. You hold my heart and my hand.

Well, you're back.

Welcome home, Zak Reiter. You're a man of collared shirts and distanced friends. You could see a counselor, but they can't bring you back. You're bound to be happy again, but until then you have your music/ schooling/ work. You'll be busy enough to not notice it all, anymore. You'll never see it, again. You'll never hope again [fear again/ die again/ live again]. It's time to hold your new parents, because they're all you'll know for until you're dead again.
   This kind of resurrection isn't your typical, though. You get to work day-in and day-out, watching the time pass until you get to leave again. Day-in you will work, and day-out you will lay silently, awaiting the daybreak to begin again.
   Your dawn may have truly been broken once, but that time's over. We're experiencing some troubled weather patterns, and it's time you came inside and closed all the blinds.

Besides, you aren't what you were. You're Zak Reiter.

Welcome home.

In the blessed words of B. B. King:

Someday, baby...

There are things that I need to do in order to get by. I don't have a reason to get by, but they tell me that I'll eventually have a reason. I don't like it, but someday I'll accept it.

Maybe I already have.

Thank you, Love and Affection,

for showing me that 

you will never be around when I need you.

Fuck this, man.

Dream from January Seventh Morning

I have just remembered my dream. It all began in my house, where I was hosting some people for some peculiar reason. There was no family, merely guests and water. There was an air-purifier in my mother's room with which the air was being cleaned, and it made me proud.

   My dog was also there. It was making noise, ended up faulting me in some way, and I became maliciously angry toward it. I yelled at it, and ended up kicking it. It became angered, and began biting at me, but that only spurned on my attacks. The dog bit at my right arm, and I felt every bit of pain. I kicked it further, and punched in its snout. It continued to bark, and I strangled every bit of life from it. As I was walking back toward the stairs, I noticed that my arm was drenched in blood from the bites, and the sweater I was wearing was slit in many places from the dog's teeth.

   I looked outside, and my mother and someone else were waiting outside. They seemed astonished, but lackluster. Possibly oblivious of the recent events.

[this next scene was after the gunfight in the cathedral, referenced later on]

As soon as I went through the doors, I was in my high school again. I was running through the halls, and finally made my way to the amphitheater. Another scene was in the amphitheater at CLHS, where there were many people seated. Not full, but somewhere around 40 people sitting and watching something. Some people were setting up the stage. Apparently I had gone to meet my friend Ashleigh Anthis. I sat down, and Matt Yang was looking at me like, "What are you doing here?" Brittan Straub was also there, and was amused at my arrival.

   I had my guitar, and I was excited to play a show. A couple groups played through their pieces, and one group began playing a guitar piece. Suddenly, many people began pulling out their personal guitars and playing along to the song. I compulsively pulled out mine as well and began playing. It didn't sound right, but that didn't matter. 

   Soon, the song ended and everyone began putting his or her guitars away. Before they all could, however, someone stood on stage and announced that anyone who wanted to play should all bring their instruments on-stage. I suddenly felt moved to do so, and rushed down to the stage. I sat down against the back wall, leaning low and holding my acoustic guitar closely. My view turned to a girl sitting on a stool in the center of the stage. She had a smooth grey electric guitar, and was playing a bunch of blues rifts to herself. A spotlight was on her, and I realised that it was Holly Wiersema. Surprised, I merely stared, and she stared back. I began playing along with her, and the music began rushing through me. I was soloing along with her strumming, and my notes began cascading through the amphitheater. My dream began merely following the music, and my view transitioned to blackness.

For some reason, my dream now turned to a facility with elevators, many doors and stairwells. It seemed as though it was a training center for patrol officers. I sat through my session of training, and was promoted to hall patrol. There were three levels to this facility, and I was in charge of the second level. The top level was the first level, and the second and third were basement levels. 

   I was running around a lot, patrolling and attacking and defending, and I ended up falling for some reason.

I was on the first level, and there was broken glass on the floor. One of the sliding panel-doors had shattered and scattered shards all over the hallway. I took out my gun and shot the man as he was fleeing out the front door. I hit him, and he died mid-fall.

   I re-holstered my gun and entered a room. There was apparently some rivalry between me and another student there, because I set myself down in a space between two people and heard snickering. I looked over, and a boy was looking at me, aghast. I naturally grinned at him and stayed put. He frowned but sat in a different location.

   I soon left that session and began exploring the facility. I had not been to the bottom basement level (which was level three), so I followed the stairway there. I went down hallways and corridors, down stairs and around corners. I somehow found myself in a large stairway that ran along the very edge of the facility, having entranced to every level. It was open, with stairs running along the walls and banisters. I entered the top level, and entered a cathedral. I walked down the center aisle and found myself in the middle, standing in front of a large pipe organ and cascading shafts of light. Suddenly, I noticed someone on the balcony, and I glanced up. A man was standing there with a gun pointed at me, and fired soon after we met eyes.

   My reaction was quick; I dodged swiftly to the left, rolling behind the pipe organ's large maroon seat, and grabbed for my gun. It was gone, though. Somehow, it must have fallen out of my holster as I was running about.

   Suddenly very afraid, I leaped out from the shelter of the seat with a stone in my hand and threw it toward the man on the balcony. He was already gone, however. Firing came at me from every side now, and I made my way toward the exits.

   [I found myself in my high school, I think]

Later on, I ended up back in the facility, in the locker rooms. I walked quietly through the misty rooms, aware that there could be anyone waiting for me. there were large open showers in rooms, urinals and stalls lining huge areas and small square lockers arranged in some nonsensical formation. I found an area on the wall in the restroom area that was marked off with an 'X'. I grabbed onto a metal baseball bat that was lying on one of the lockers and proceeded to pound the area on the wall. after a few blows, it began shattering and pieces of the tiling began falling to the floor. 

   a hole appeared, and I more quickly pulled the tiles from their place. I crawled into the opening and found myself in a long dark tunnel. I followed it, and found myself in a dimly-lit hallway, yellow from the light of the old bulbs. I stood up carefully and gathered my bearings. the walls were made of poorly-cemented drywall and small glued-on pieces of paper covered some of wall in a bit of a rustic and decrepit way. I followed the hallway to the right and entered more doorways, walking down more halls. I climbed a ladder, and found myself in another dimly-lit hallway. I walked along to the left, and after a few meters noticed a large opening about 5 feet up the wall, with small bits of ladder attached beneath it.

   I climbed up and crawled through the opening, and noticed that it was a long tunnel with a lit bulb at the end. I decided to crawl toward it, and suddenly there was more space, so I began crouching/walking as I progressed. I found that there was a cork-board attached to the small area of wall, with some pins on it. the only thing that was actually attached to the board was a small picture of a woman, beaten and bloodied from something. 

   horrified,  I turned around. leaning into the tunnel, his legs still set upon the ladder, was a gaunt man wearing a dirty t-shirt and dank jeans with holes. I was terrified, and I knew that he was  blocking the only exit from this tunnel I was crouching in. I managed to slip out, somehow. I ended up in the hallway again, and fled back the way I came. I inadvertently passed the exit that I used to enter, and encountered some elevators. 

   "You won't be able to escape through those, you little asshole," the man was yelling to me. By now I was moving so quickly from the fear that it seemed I was flying. there was a hole in the cap where the elevator was coming up from, and the rope came through a hole and went through the ceiling. I wanted to go down, for some reason, and leapt through the hole. it turned out that I just landed on the elevator, however, and panicked. I heard him saying, "You can't escape. I already told you," and he laughed deviously. he began dropping bits of acid down upon me, but I briskly avoided them and flew up back out of the hole. I swung around to the next elevator, and looked at this cap. there was a slight opening to the left, so I jumped through it and found myself on top of another elevator. this one was skinnier, however, so I slipped around the side of it and landed on the bottom floor. I heard the man, and he continued dropping bits of acid from above me in a geometric pattern, one for every square foot. it was easy for me to avoid, but soon the acid began turning into large spiders, and I jumped out of the entrance to the bottom-floor elevators and finally found the exit.

my dream now transitioned to a court room, where I was sitting behind and above the judges desk on a balcony, among men of high stature. I was watching the judging of this man who had been pursuing me. it turns out that I had discovered him just in the nick of time, and that he had raped that woman who's picture i'd found in the small tunnel with the lone bulb. the man was chained to a chair on my left, and the attorneys were all facing him from my right. near the entrance to the brightly-lit courtroom were the rest of the witnesses, all sitting in a semicircle facing us. behind them were large doors with bay windows, and above those doors were large stained glass windows and even more windows above those.

   I began hearing that the man was sentenced to a life of death, but I was very confused. suddenly to my right, another man on the balcony stood up and pointed a large crossbow at me. I discovered that I was standing in the way of him firing at the rapist and lunged down to the floor, crouching out of the way. he quickly fired at the man and impaled the large spike through his head, lodging the arrowhead (it was like a large mace) in his skull. I was aghast, and gaped at the current proceedings, scared shitless. there was an uproar in the crowd -- a mix of fear, contempt and cheering. I leaped from the balcony onto the floor and saw many people about. I pushed myself to the back wall and watched as people crowded around the corpse, cheering and hollering in joy.

   a man sitting next to me caught my attention; he also was not moving from his place. curious, I looked over at him. his sharp face was what caught my glance: he had a small but crooked nose, high cheekbones and dark hair. his mouth seemed set in a grin, and I couldn't help but want to talk to him. thankfully, he addressed me first. "Seems like such a triviality, doesn't it," he said frankly, even rhetorically. "Almost as though it isn't."

   I was confused, but relieved at the change of pace. I finally had someone to relate to, I thought. "It really is. I wish that I could fathom what it means, though," I said disdainfully. "Their faces are filled with the glee of a blind sheep, as though they have entered a pen that contains a full bucket of feed."

   The dark man grinned at me. "Almost poetic," he remarked, "but you're missing the most important bit."

I soon found myself driving along in a dirty old Geo Metro. It was in Colorado, and the mountain roads were winding. I found a turnoff and followed it, entering a small village with little cars and thatched roofs. I received a call from Cassie, then. she told me that she wanted to meet there, so I waited. Suddenly, the small buildings began growing into large cities, and the sky began clearing into blue skies and thin clouds. a river formed as well, and I got out of my car. I soon discovered that there was a small, sky-grey Honda Acura sitting beside me. I got in and sped back the way I came. I entered the turnoff and discovered that I needed to hurry.

[my dream became strange, now. 'Hard to understand' would be more to the point.] 

   I soon discovered that the rapist who was shot did not die, but transformed into a kind of monster and was after me. I sped along the mountain highway and realised that I could fly, for some reason. I got out of the car and was joined by four other people. Two men and two women. We had the power to inhabit trees, and make them become alive. We found a grouping of large trees and inhabited them. We used the leaves as sails to fly through the skies, and soon found the man in a house. It turns out that the house was where I was to begin with when I was in the small tunnel, and it was connected through viaducts to the large facility that I was in. the victim was somehow this woman that one of my compatriots was in love with, and we were out to finish him off once and for all.

   We got there, and the man was waiting for us on the porch. He summoned a large robot, and it was blue and angular. We formed together by the roots and branches and began fighting it. It was interesting because it fired missiles, and the missiles made small holes in the clouds as they were pierced. I soon finished off the large robot and killed the man.

   it turned out that the man was merely a large grouping of bacteria, though, and he began infesting the trees we were inhabiting. the house we were near was next to a large cliff, and at the bottom of the cliff was a river which was bottomless. we decided to throw ourselves into the river and sink to the bottom of the nothing because that way, the bacteria would have no physical remains to attach to and it would die, too. we did so, and we ended up drowning-but-not, which is a state that transitions between life, death and renewing. we surfaced far away on the shores of the river and found each other. we discovered that we were in another valley which contained large trees. celebrating our success (and also needing a way out), we decided to inhabit the largest trees. The leader of our group (which was not me) inhabited the largest oak tree, and we all laughed cordially at how it made so much sense. We soon flew out of the valley, through the clouds and into the blue skies.

   The view changes to two men and women driving down a similar colorado mountain road, listening to jovial tunes and enjoying each others' company. my thoughts move to how thankfully, the bacteria is gone and there is no remains. Of course, I suddenly see some small traces of the bacteria on the steering wheel. they are holding onto the last remnants of life. I remember that I was grateful that there were no bits of natural elements around, merely the people and the car. I then realise that the women's hair could be inhabited, and suddenly the bacteria releases through the air. two bits of it attach to a woman's hair, and suddenly I see that the entire car is beginning to be inhabited by the bacteria... thriving and growing...

...so I woke up.

Way Far Gone

Well, the inevitable happened. I left home. I don't really feel bad about it, but I am slightly worried about money, insurance, gas, car repair, clothes, food, tuition, showering, cell phone bills, and so on and so on and so on.

It's the inevitability of life, however. I accept that. I think that I'll be alright, in fact. I've been writing a lot of songs (in my head), and it's making me a little satisfied. I was writing for a site [ www.iphonealley.com], but seeing as my Mac doesn't get good internet reception with no WiFi available, and there's only Comcast internet here, I'm a little stuck. I do feel bad, mainly because MacWorld is coming up and I've suddenly lost all business reach. Awh.

I have my guitar, though. That, my laptop, my car, wallet, clothes, toiletries and some bread. I should be alright. School begins the 15th, and I've pretty much worked out that entire situation, so I should be well-put-together by the time school rolls around. For now, I'm just sitting over here cleaning, watching the kids every once in a while, and trying to relax. I'm not necessarily worrying as much as I should be, but I don't know. I'm relatively sure that things will turn out alright. I'll most likely end up sneaking into the dorms Friday night and not leave the room until Sunday morning. *smile* Probably Thursday, actually.


In any case, I'm well-prepared to sneak and steal my way through life, fully without the aid of my estranging parents.

5:41.

I am too easily attached, but is that not virtuous? 

I also ask too many questions. Is that not, as well?