Hell’s Embrace

I seek comfort in my demons
because my angels never gave a fuck about me.


Feeling Ghosts

I was spoiled by your presence
and as I sit here part of me thinks
that you just went to the bathroom quick
and that my door will come squeaking open
I’ll hear the beads rattle
and I’ll see your beautiful face come through.
I’ll tell you that I love you
and you tell me that you love me back
you walk over to the bed and plop down
I shut down my computer, turn off the monitor
spin around in the chair in some stupid action pose
you smile,
I smile and unplug the Chrismas lights that were illuminating the room
darkness floods the room,
with the exception of the red numbers of the alarm clock
I don’t really need to see anyways
I could feel your pull in pitch darkness
from 100 miles away
but you weren’t 100 miles away
no, you were just a few feet away
and so with just a few steps I met you in the dark
and reminded you that I love you again.

Not Me

My mood and mind seem to continue to gradually slip down this slope of..I don’t know what it is exactly.  It’s not really depression, but it’s not a overly pleasant place to be in. I consider it more of  a ‘stark-realization-of-self’.

I think I have it figured out.  We, humans are built for a particular purpose, like all the other animals – our instinct, and purpose really boils down to survival of our race or species. That’s why we fight and fuck, it is at the core of our design to survive, no matter who we fight or fuck to get there.

So here I am, 37 years old, my current lifestyle or life path is not one that genetics had in mind for me, it’s also not what the American society has built for me.  I’m suppose to be married, and have kids, a job that pays.  My life is supposed to be in the pocket now, and it should now be about putting my desires aside in the interest of giving my children the best future that I can – ensuring the survival of my race/species.

But I don’t have any of that, and I honestly don’t know if I ever will. In my heart, or mind I feel like I’m drifting further away every day. I feel like the dot on your GPS that took too many wrong turns, and now I’m so far away from the lit up path.  Just a dot floating free on a map (recalculating). Perhaps it would help if my path had a destination. I have no destination.  Sure I set up little things here and there that I look forward to doing, but my life has no master plan.  I think I could have one if I truly wanted one, but when I get to close to anything that resembles a master plan – I suddenly feel the walls closing in on me.  I guess I feel that once you surrender your path to that master plan, that all the excitement and possibilities of life are gone.  You are locked on that lit path on your GPS and there isn’t a whole lot of wiggle room.  And to me, there is no magic on a set path.

So you see it’s a constant battle for me.  I simply can’t have both and to attempt a middle of the road approach that I feel would do neither path justice.  I’ve said before sometimes I wish I could have a few tries at life.  One lifetime to do the traditional family path, one to lifetime to fully devote to music on the road. Actor, artist, etc…I know people will say I can have it all, but I know I can’t, at least not the way that I would like to – And so I have my freedom, no foundation but no chains, just myself.

I do feel my prime is in the past, I feel like a ghost, reliving old memories knowing what’s past is past. I just take it day by day, who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Not me.

Took a Train

Took a train to New York City
a smelly guy sat by me the whole time
watching every little thing that I would scribble in my notebook
I felt a headache coming on
I felt the world getting warmer and warmer
the doors opened to a land of fire and chaos
The city never sleeps,
Dragon’s breath bounced between the towering buildings
searching for a breeze, searching for a view above the hustle and bustle
there is no more freedom above the city than there is among it.

Took a train to Washington D.C.,
a pretty girl sat next to me the whole time
not noticing any little thing that I would scribble in my notebook
I felt a heartbreak coming on
I felt the world getting bigger and bigger
the doors opened and I was hit with colors and sound
The city sang in harmony, their hearts beat in unison
Our hands reached as high as our bodies would allow,
desperate to catch a handful of hope
as it fell like rain from the sky
Longing for a split second of peace, for a hint of reciprocation
but there is no more freedom above us than there is among us

Took a train to Pennsylvania….

Eyes of the Stranger

How can a life so hollow feel so heavy?

Days flee like wind ripping through my fingers
I can feel everything passing by
but my hands have failed me,
they are the wrong tools to do anything about any thing
So clumsy and awkward, helpless and hopeless
I am going to observe this event called “life”
I will sit still,
with eyes wide as they can be, I will gaze into the mirror
until every last feature on my face becomes unrecognizable to me
I will stare into the eyes of the stranger
I will breathe deep and full
without a drop of worry or guilt,
and for just a moment I will know
that the weight of the world is on his shoulders, not mine.

A Shadow in the Light

It is the ungodly hour of 11am.  The air is frigid outside, but the sun is shining so brightly reflecting off of the snowbanks and the ice.  I could barely open my eyes.  The sun does something to my senses, or perhaps it’s the lack of sleep. Either way,  I can’t remember the last time I was up and outside, in public during this time of day.

The sensation makes my eyes sting, I feel my eyelids pucker in disbelief. I hear phantom clanks and clangs in my ears, like a child banging on pots and pans with a big wooden spoon, while cheap metal wind chimes do a obnoxious blusterous dance..traffic jam..angry men, threatening violence over money, some big truck or bus must be driving in reverse..BEEP BEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP.

The bright light leaves me temporarily mindless, heartless, and soulless.  All the depth of my being abandoned this body as soon as that heavy wooden door creaked open, letting the great white purge in.

At this point time speeds and bends and warps.  Flashes and voices surge through me at levesls and volumes that I can not begin to process. I am in the heart of a raging storm. I push beyond maxium sensory overload…

And my time in the light is done.

Using what is left of my instinct, I find myself traveling back, in a very automatic kind of way. I just follow the path back home, back to the dark, away from all of the light and sounds and cold.  As I re-enter my apartment I feel a weight drop off my shoulders.  If I didn’t know any better I would swear a hundred pound sandbag had literally just dropped off of my shoulders.  The weight feels that real. My eyes once puckered and blind now turn into a more drowsy, loose, heavy feeling.  It’s almost like the feeling you get when you first slip into a warm bath. My vision is black and spotted but my eyes feel so good I don’t care that I can’t see. I would rather not see anything but black at this moment. The subtle tick of the clock in the kitchen is all my ears hear.  It is so soothing, it sounds like feathers falling gently on a pillow to me. A comforting lullaby.

As my senses return to their natural state, it is then that I feel the toll that has been taken. I don’t feel like going into anymore detail, but I will say that I do not belong here.  Not in that kind of daylight, not with those kinds of people. That is not my world. I don’t know where I belong but I know without a doubt that it is not here.  I wonder if they even see me. I walk like them, talk like them, act like them. I know I can play the part for short periods of time, but do any of them realize who or what I really am?

I guess the real question is, do they even care?
No. I don’t think that they do.