Why Should I Stay Here?

Every night a new dream. Every day a new thought. Every hour a different feeling. Every second, oh every second, it creeps by slowly; aching to have what is not there. Waiting patiently for nothing. And in nothing, something, everything, you.

I am simply a fool and that will do. Time is the partition wall. It all chains us to some eternity.

Breath deeply, friends. Its all we've got left.

Dervish Dances

A.

The cosmos' dance, the dead of winter

and I feel it all creep up so slowly,

you sleeping silently there, my thoughts

stalking you sweetly as you dream of being awake.

B.

It was in the night that you first smelled death,

briefly followed by dreams of God. You awoke

with me gently next to you, waking

at

the

very

same

time

.

C.

In infinite verisimilitude, or finite fecundity,

or whatever they all mean, and

you spell them out so eloquently

and silently

like a flower blooming, only to know its three days

until winter,

I saw you there, floating, like God and breath

down, down, down

upon the earth-like surface,

then I saw in your place, lay a pile of dead leaves,

and I knew it wasnt you.

D.

Start, Go, Begin

and then

STOP.

You must sleep now, or your body will never wake.

I

Patterns.

Ice Age coming, let me hear both sides, let me hear both sides....

This is really happening. He said it.

There is this indescribable feeling of freedom and peace that I receive from driving alone at night to my house. It might have been the conversations that have preceded it or the music in my ears, but both, no matter how loud, we're at minimal volume in relation to my thoughts. decibels rising.

The wastefulness of grace. Freedom in truth. The will of the human heart. The breaking of spirit. The breaking of bread. It is from here that I choose to walk forward. Will you follow? I'll light my cigarette and wait awhile.

If I could capture these feelings in words, it would be trivial. Holding hands was years ago, but these butterflies never dies. Cocoon to full flap back to cocoon. Hibernate for a while and awake when the night is cold. Life is learning the pattern. Rally-route-rally-route-rally-route.

If I die tomorrow, I will at least have lived today. Will you follow?

"We're still trying to locate us."

A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek - done. Find the gaps and dwell in them.

Where do you go from here? You and me? Everybody. These thoughts make little sense. Watching the divine conspiracy unfold and engulf. Its hard to see where you stand in relation to your feelings, but very rarely your thoughts. I have a lot of thoughts. I have a lot of feelings. So what do you do? You walk into whatever dark room is in front of you and gently whisper, "I'm coming in and if there is something waiting for me then I will face it." Sitting in the dark and waiting. "Sit in this awhile and ponder your place." I'll find that light switch. I'll find it if its the last damn thing I do.

She told me last night that she loves to go to sleep. I hadn't seen her in what must have been years. She told me that she selfishly waited for sleep, begging her to come in dreams. Wherever she is, she is there now, I can't keep beckoning her back. She cant, neither can I, but it seems as if we still want to. I never knew her, the dream-girl, I only knew what they said about her. She never knew her, the-other-girl, and there was no one to talk to about that. It never makes any sense. Always rambling on about some loss that I knew could take place. I choose this. I choose this and I would choose it again. Lay down beside me for awhile, "I never knew anyone could make me feel like this." Who did, sweetheart?

When there isn't much to say and nothing to be found in some foreign fermented substance, you read. Read about nature and stalking, about fecundity...

• the intellectual productivity of a creative imagination
• fertility: the state of being fertile; capable of producing offspring
• fruitfulness: the quality of something that causes or assists healthy growth

... I never knew what it meant until now. Thank you Annie Dillard. I know you never meant to use your name, but in some odd, self-centered sense, I am glad you did. You read about liberty, social and civil, you read about divinity and the cosmos' calling, you read about orientals and the -isms that follow, you read about God and politics and the misinformation, you read about Him and, you read about me. I read and I write and I smile at the smallest clandestine thought. It isnt meant to be understood, just felt through freedom. What freedom? I'll let you decide.

Decipher if you wish, but I promise no golden truth or treasured thought. A simple feeling perhaps. A small wave to be enjoyed. A innermost calling for the kingdom of another world, here now, not to come, but reigning here with you and with me. All are welcome.

Now its time. I am going to find that light switch and I am going to turn it on.

Screwtape

"You must have often wondered why the Enemy does not make more use of His power to be sensibly present to human souls in any degree He chooses and at any moment. But you now see that the Irresistible and the Indisputable are the two weapons which the very nature of His scheme forbids Him to use. Merely to override a human will (as His felt presence in any but the faintest and most mitigated degree would certainly do) would be for Him useless. He cannot ravish. He can only woo. For His ignoble idea is to eat the cake and have it; the creatures are to be one with Him, but yet themselves; merely to cancel them, or assimilate them, will not serve. He is prepared to do a little overriding at the beginning. He will set them off with communications of His presence which, though faint, seem great to them, with emotional sweetness, and easy conquest over temptation. Sooner or later He withdraws, if not in fact, at least from their conscious experience, all those supports and incentives. He leaves the creature to stand up on its own legs-- to carry out from the will alone duties which have lost all relish. It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that it is growing into the sort of creature He wants it to be. Hence the prayers offered in the state of dryness are those which please Him best. We can drag our patients along by continual tempting, because we design them only for the table, and the more their will is interfered with the better. He cannot 'tempt' to virtual as we do to vice. He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles. Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys."


maybe...or maybe not...but always maybe, and that seems like it might be enough in some sense of the word.

There was a dream and a vision, there was today and tomorrow

Where do we go from here?


Clouds settle on a mountain. I am above them. This is what I saw, who can refute that? "Unsocial sociability" is what Kant said about history, "cunning of reason" for Hegel. We all see it but we hardly ever realize it.

In actuality, I am standing in a place that knows no surroundings. The path is there, but I can barely see it.

I squint harder. Where are my glasses?

in England.

"Being and Nothingness"

Its a weird feeling to admit to yourself. Knowing that you really do share some similar qualities, feelings, and/or thoughts with someone or some people that you wish to categorize as "other." Its something I find myself fighting against on larger, national, regional, and global scales, but when they are your neighbors or just old friends, it becomes a lot easier to consider them alien to yourself. I'd like to take away their validity (as if I can do that) to be completely honest. In some aspects, I wish not to know them. I think somewhere, somehow down inside of myself I possess what could be called "coolness" or "realness" because when I look in the mirror its what I tell myself, but after looking at another's blog, I find that "the mirrors lie, those aren't my eyes." I only possess humanity. And so do they.

If I am really honest, which in most cases I'm not, then I will admit that I have gone through this before, only to lose interest in bettering myself. It is from that point that I forget what I just learned, and fall back into infancy, or something of the sort. Comma Splice.

So old friends, I think we may be more connected than you or I'd like to admit. You distance yourself from the world, living in a fictitious land of dreams you claim as your own - which inevitably perpetuates you perceived freedom, and I, well, I distance myself from your perceived freedoms only to perceive myself free in other ways. "I cannot be free to, without being free from." Looks like we are both chained.

Question: Does choosing to limit your freedom negate your true, acausal, personal freedoms? To be free to choose limitations would therefore presuppose you have negative, anti-deterministic freedoms. Okay, stop thinking.


1. I am alone now, at least for a few days. Dancing Goats and Arabic literature. Thoughts of you and questions that arise from myself. All in a day's work, or so they say. Fair enough.

2. I am willing to sacrifice much to wait this one out. I don't think I have anything worthy of that task. There is a mountain there, with clouds hung low. Dreams and visions are born. Watch me summit. Watch me rise. There is no god there. No, He is here...

I open my eyes and wait.

E. Texas Ave.

Your house chased smells of sweets and cakes,
strolled down around the bend.
After rain, rising, springing.
Aspiring to be a hill.
I'd hang my hat in Hartford union.
Strolling down the way to River Park, around the bend.
Like gentle stemmed flowers we bloomed where we planted,
so seasonal like sand.
I'd hang my head in.

The Promise Ring

Tender and Aloof

I

“What did you do to your hair?”

“What did you do to your hair?”

It’s so much longer now.

“…Only when you’re not there,”

If you could feel what I feel,

Then you’d see I don’t care.

II

Speak, spoken, spoke, tired of you old slowpoke!

Don’t speak to her like that! Don’t speak to her like that!

These words mean nothing when you run from your folks!

I wish you knew what it meant to have nothing to say.

I just wish you knew I said something.

III

My friends, those old blue heelers,

Watch them kick and scream, bark and dream.

If you see them starve, if you see them steal…

Their paws to the dirt, but their stares to the stars,

Fur all wet, growls all real

They’re not tender, their hearts aren’t tame.

Slights of hand, they’ve been reclaimed

By solar flares and lucid dares,

Catch ‘em if you can,

But

You

Wont.

Ida and the thoughts of being idle

Lyrics to Post Prom Disorder :
"some days are heavy and some days are mean
some days fall somewhere in between
today i would like to tear you apart at the seams

taking a plane is the worst kind of day
holding your breath in the sky
you should never write a letter that high

speaking my mind is not what i do best
but i have to get this all off my chest
open this window and hope that these words will fly

but hey what does it matter now
cause turning back pages is not something time will allow
but wait i never got to say
you were digging into me and then you just got away

so how can you say that i'm wasting time
after all of the years i have spent trying to fill up the hole
that you left sitting there in my heart

and i'm taking it back
and i'm making it mine
i am still trying

oh ohhhh oh

some days are heavy and some days are mean
some days fall somewhere in between, in between"



I don't really know what to do when i look at this anymore...

I just want some rest

I hate to look at my bed. I hate cutting apples, and shopping at whole foods. I hate making breakfast or making food. I hate vegan delights and delicious fried tortillas. I hate hummus and falafel. I hate cool soaps and skipping class on rainy days. I hate naps and talking for 24 straight hours. I hate all of these things because I love them.

I love them in one specific context.

and that is,

with

you.