I come from the future...

Back then we used to write about
Cat Stevens and Sufjan Stevens
factory farming and sustainable agriculture
time in a bottle and
howdoesonemakethat?
tinyworkerscontributing
connectingsynapses
stringsandmemorythings
tobecherished
andputonpedestals
andputonshelves
andthensoldyearslater@estatesales
nowiwriteaboutmyself

I have not written too much lately. I've been distracted. Dealing with things. Overworked and under-stimulated. Part of me didn't miss the writing. I don't miss freelance jobs. I don't miss writing about your DJ's, your magazine, your company or helping to write your screenplay, script, proposal, etc. What I do miss is writing on a front porch, drinking cigarettes and smoking beers furiously. I miss writing things that aren't for anything and that will go nowhere...but here.

God bless this blog.

My head today?

Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earheart had a baby.

Cloud fury.

This Year... (sort of)

i died
got better
and then got betterbetter
got creative (sort of)
got comfortable (sort of)
tried (sort of)
and feel now
like getting better
all of the time
with practice
and consistency (all of the time)
with LIVING (all of the time)
this year (and NEXT year)

Hermes...

You don't have a pen that I can write with and no paper to write upon with the pen that I don't have. I wanted to make a Facebook status update in regards to how happy I am at the moment but I didn't want to get responses back via my phone. It's set to high volume because we have to wake up in the morning and I want you to sleep. Your neighbors are noisy but they're getting quieter as their drunken tide starts to grab and grab at their LOUDNESS. I can imagine a cop not giving a shit when I call - neighbor.noisy.need sleep.


I think you're good. Sleeping soundly. I'm here. It's nice to type on something that works. I've missed writing. I promise to give you everything that you want and please don't hate me if sometimes I excuse myself and try to give myself a little bit of everything that I want...besides what I have with you.

22

and i like you and i think that there's something in my drink and I'm okay with that
i want you to be okay and for you to like me
and damn, it takes so much work to be a better person
i never was before
i never was a bad tyke
LIES
but
i never knew what it felt like to grow up
and i
want to grow up even more now
and i
want to like me and for you to be okay
and i like you
and i think that there's something in this life
and I'm okay with that

and damn, it takes so much time
and I'm okay with that

24

I just erased what I wrote

it wasn't bad

it just wasn't good enough

for you

maybe

just roll

with what little I can give

to you

right now

it may

get better

for us both

and if not

then we'll BOTH

get rid of this

25

I've been fiddling around with this stupid computer since i got home
to a house filled with autistic children, pooping cats and ticking clocks
not really
I'm just staring
right here
it's white before me
stupid technology
failed mechanics
another failed
writing night

26

Can you hear it?
Shhh...LISTEN - just shut up for a second.
Can you NOW?

Yeah...It's nice isn't it?

27

and i thank you
for everything
and thank you for all of the love
and the friendship
and the care
and your constant hugs
all of you
are amazingly patient
i keep on running and
you're always right beside me
when i bother to look

and i thank you

29

We're learning as we go
Learning as you go
You're learning as I go...

30

I saw a play by myself on Saturday

I read two reviews about it for weeks

so i bought the ticket in bed the night before

credit card in hand

I've realized that i need to continue doing things

that i like

that don't involve anybody else

even though

DUDE

I totally want all of you in my life

but...you aren't

I saw the play

ninety minutes

with an actress by my shoulder in a theater of twenty people

so close

I smoked a couple of cigarettes afterwards

not looking for a party

or to cement my theatric experience

I said hi to a couple of people that I knew and

excused myself

because I was hungry

and because sometimes I don't know

what to do with myself


Ummmm...and that's it.


Quiet night. Stupid poem.

32

It took me 15 solid minutes
to fix the sliding glass door in my room
that I haven't been able to open for the last 6 months
and now
these last 20 minutes
since I've opened
my sliding glass door
feels like
a face-buffeting hurricane of FUCKING AMAZING.

Meaghan Smith - "It Snowed" Live in LA

While I sleepnowrightnow

and this stupid computer continues to mince my words
and this stupid continue to computers my wordn mices
I'll put this down
this blanket
I'll put this down
before bed

The best savings...

Everything is expensive
but getting me out of the house
to me?
is PRICELESS

MIỄN PHÍ CHẤT BÉO SỮA ......

I AM CỦA TANZANIA KHỈ GOODALL JANE GÕ VỀ CHUỐI. MY. NGÓN TAY LÀ SANTA BÉ CỦA NHỮNG NGƯỜI GIÚP ĐỠ HY VỌNG CỦA TÔI LÀ MỘT LƯỢNG MƯA LẺ TẺ - NÀO ĐƯỢC NÊU RA MỘT CƠN MƯA XỐI XẢ TRÚT TRONG TẤT CẢ CÁC MÔI TRƯỜNG SÁNG TẠO. I AM THESEUS, UNSPOOLING SỢI VÀNG,. SISYPHUS RA MỒ HÔI KHÓ KHĂN. BUKOWSKI, SCRIBBLING ĐI THUÊ NHÀ Ở.. MỘT DÒNG SÔNG LUÔN LUÔN CHẢY TÔI LÀ CƠN ÁC MỘNG CỦA SỰ ĐÌNH TRỆ VÀ THẦN CỦA TRÍ TƯỞNG TƯỢNG. KHÔNG THỰC SỰ ... TÔI CHỈ THẤY MỆT MỎI VÀ ĐẦY ĐỦ CỦA POO ..

He spent hours assembling his spacesuit

yet forgot to put on a pair of clean underwear
to put in his contact lenses
and to send his last will and testament via Ansible
His socks had holes in them
he had forgotten to update his Virgo Supercluster of galaxies Facebook status
totally spaced paying his monthly bill to the House Atreides
and slowly smacked his space helmet in zero-gravity frustration
when he realized that he forgot to take out the trash to the Dianoga compactor
The stars still looked pretty, though
and he swore to do all of these things 
when he got back
or maybe soon
maybe...tomorrow.

Toys and books arrive in the mail and you don"t remember ordering them because you were drunk.

A Journey - By Edward Field

When he got up that morning everything was different:
He enjoyed the bright spring day
But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it.

And walking down the street to the railroad station
Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks
It was a long time since he had breathed so simply.

Tears filled his eyes and it felt good
But he held them back
Because men didn't walk around crying in that town.

Waiting on the platform at the station
The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen:
The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold.

And in its time it came screeching in
And as it went on making its usual stops,
People coming and going, telephone poles passing,

He hid his head behind a newspaper
No longer able to hold back the sobs, and willed his eyes
To follow the rational weavings of the seat fabric.

He didn't do anything violent as he had imagined.

He cried for a long time, but when he finally quieted down
A place in him that had been closed like a fist was open,

And at the end of the ride he stood up and got off that train:
And through the streets and in all the places he lived in later on
He walked, himself at last, a man among men,
With such radiance that everyone looked up and wondered.