Target's 2-Day Sale

I woke up this morning in hopes of going to Target to look at their "2-Day Sale", but sadly I never made it out of the door... actually, I didn't even make it down the hall. I was looking forward to it all week... just to browse and maybe find a new DVD or cheap video game. I still have a little money left to spare that the thief so kindly left me... but I feel guilty spending anything on myself. There are other things the money should and could be going towards. There has been a cloud hanging over me for so long that it is difficult to breathe... let alone go out into the world when I'm not forced to do so. I really don't have the energy to face the public and be pushed around by the mindless drones looking to save some blood money on their seasonal affections. Every night for the past few weeks, I have been crying for hours on end... popping pill after pill until my mind becomes so numb and by body powerless to move, then passing out. Needless to say, I wake up very late and exhausted... just to face another day of torment and another night of ritual.This is the worst time of year for me... a time of remorse. Add in the pure idiocy, greed and ungrateful people throwing around their snowball emotions of joy and love... soon the sun will rise and those false words will melt. It makes me so angry and depressed... you have the ability to feel those positive emotions, why not have some sincerity and continuity? Fucking sheep... you take so much for granted, wake up! It is easy to forget the truth... lemmings are soulless, they can't wake up. They stay asleep and spin their precious dreams like spider webs trapping the few souled beings and breaking them down... it's their program. It's hard to find comfort in the fact that I have a soul... somewhere in there, bruised, sticky and curled into a ball. What else do I have left to learn here... has my life become purely for the purpose of dharma? I just want to go home... take me home.

T.O.D. - Dusted In A Cardboard Grave

I was again looking through some of my writings... part of me has been entertaining the idea of trying to finish revamping my book and pushing once again to have it published. Of course, the cat and the choir think this is pure insanity. I have spent many recent nights listening to this constant rambling and ridicule and I am quite worn down... I wonder if there is a limit to the amount of tears the body can produce in any given amount of time. More things to ponder, perhaps. Against the wishes of "the collective", I have decided to post another poem from the past. It was written long ago, but it still has a story within it... somewhere.



"Touched Me Within"

It was a dream, or so it seemed to me-
Another normal night, wrapped in fantasy.
I sat alone in the dark, looking in wait-
Then I met you, as the hour turning late.
With simple smiles and names exchanged-
Never thinking my life would rearrange.
In those words and a little time shared-
A dream glowed and feelings had flared.
Pleasure was mine, to be welcomed by you-
A friend and companion; possibly more too.
I can not wait until time unites us again-
For you have touched me; touched me within...

Early Inspirations

"The Arrow And The Song"

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Strangling Conversation

After a long conversation with my cat, Andy, last night, I am weary to say the least. He clearly defined the reality of many situations and spoke none too softly about who and what I am. An animal's honesty. He told me that I spend far too much time dreaming of days not meant to be seen, things which shall not come to pass and false hope. I wept. So today, I am taking the day off as prescribed... a line of pharmaceutical soldiers are lined and ready to depart. Despite the brutal honesty, he assured me I am needed in a limited capacity so I am not allowed to leave permanently. Who would feed and care for him if I were to leave? It's a small role, but I am needed... perhaps even wanted or loved on some level. He's calling for me now...

T.O.D. - On A Softer Side

More remnants of T.O.D. ... I was looking through it tonight and I figured I would post something softer for once. Reliving the past, offers a strange comfort... perhaps it is just from remembering simpler days...



“What You Are To Me”

You are my breath,
The air- all that fills and surrounds me.
You are my light,
Shimmering- the beauty and life I see.
You are my reason,
Answers- my purpose and destiny to be.
You are my thoughts,
Inspirations- desires and passions set free.

Grace and style;
The pleasures that you bring.
Peace and simplicity;
My heart and soul doth sing.
Purity and divinity;
Your promise not to sting.
Compassion and love;
You have made me a king.
Forever searching- but now I see…
For this is what, you mean to me.

Solace

Is it too much to ask, for me to crawl inside of you? In there, feeling warmth and security... I could feel something other than myself. So many emotions bottled inside, bouncing around with no exit or interpretation... flat are they, with no purpose or sensation. Together, we could give them purpose and understanding. So close we'd be, your could impart your feelings unto me... giving them life as they nestle inside of my heart and being. At last, I could give a face to the flat and a voice to the silent screams... feelings I could express freely and receive without indifference. "Wake up child, for this is not your place, there are no burrows in which you can erase. It is time to go home now, inside the silent, dark and deep. You have your company and friends to keep, skeletons to nuzzle and hold as you sleep. This is your home and you need no more, certainly not that dream you so adore.".

Still Lifes

Even chaos requires a stand still... ceasing as moments of tranquility seeps into every pore. In those moments, the humming silence encompasses me restoring hope and faith. If I could only capture those rare moments by lens and frame myself within them forever. Little over the years have inspired such moments, making them even more so desired. How I yearn for those moments... cringing in despair as the tears roll from my swollen eyes. I must hold on for another time shall come to pass... another moment when the world becomes brighter and dreams closer to reach. The comforting presence, and assurance that the battles can be won, things can change... I can change. The Lady in Red, sweeping in and lifting me up... this shell of a man. Her arrival is sweetened air... short lived for the audience, for departure is nigh. I braid her words, as if they were locks of hair, and tie them into my own... draping across my face, reminding me. Though I mourn her absence, I fear less the destined reprisal of chaos... for another time is coming, another day, another breath of that sweetened air.

In The Window

If I were the Captain, we'd be lost at sea-
An empty kettle crackling, serving no tea.
Erased fifteen and shadowed nineteen more-
Listen to the knocking, touching not the door.

Smiling now, as I see that desired, comfort face-
It wasn't here as thought, instead distant space.

-AF

Red November

Night has fallen, once again closing the day.
Confusion building, emotions cling and sway.
It's not coming, not a faint whisper nor sigh.
Stepping lightly on the boundaries that lie.

Not to mourn the things intended empty.
It's not coming today, not for you or me.

-AF

All Along The Watchtower

"There must be some way out of here" said the joker to the thief.
"There's too much confusion", I can't get no relief.

So much to say and so very little voice. Here again, I find myself writing on these pages... this is a sanctuary. I can allow the insanity to spew with no reprisal... an empty house full of broken windows and no one to pass the spectacle. My rock now covered in moss and sea foam rejects my grip... the waves toss me around. Beaten with a fiery passion... I crash to and fro, smashing my face against that which I used to cling. There is music, there is always music... strumming and singing their lovely lullaby. The constant reminder of how safe and warm it will feel... no remorse, just stop fighting. Is it really warm and tingling when you experience love... like the sun breaking through stormy skies? Perhaps, but their honesty is two sided... there is a cost for everything. They say the most painful experience a human goes through is breathing for the very first time... precious, life giving air... with a cost. The price is letting go... in exchange, that peace I have yearned. Even by the trusted tongues, I have been informed this life, my prison, will only intensify. In the end, perhaps rotting in a hospital like my dear uncle... no one sees him and his keepers allow him no peace or memory. Good-bye horses, I'm flying over you. Searching for that warmth has been my one desire... someday, we'll never come back.