Saturday, September 28, 2013
Sweet dreams aren't made of this
I've worn the shoes of an untouched man. I was floating around in this petri dish. Scientist examined me for any sign of life. I twitched, I turned at her slightest touch. Nobody wants to be the subject of a cruel experiment.
Oh, she said she loved me many times before. Maybe, I'm not as charming as I think. One day, those I love yous stopped. I've worn the shoes of an unloved man.
I took a flight in a metal bird. Jesus, people, can't you see I am trying to sleep? Pilot warned us of turbulent skies. I tossed, I turned at the slightest bump. Nobody likes to listen to warning signs. I've worn the shoes of a fearful man.
Oh, she said she meant every word. Maybe, I'm not as smart as I claim to be. One day, those words were as empty as her life. I've worn the armor of an invisible man.
I never knew how lonely I really was until I met her. Jesus, people, get out of my head. Angel on my shoulder says run, run, run as fast as you can. Devil promised me milk and honey. I've worn the shoes of a tempted man.
Back when I watched a young man die, I swore I would fulfill every dream he had. I was floating on a delusional cloud. I sneered, I scoffed at all the doubting Thomases. Nobody wants to be proven wrong.
Oh he said he was stronger than me. Maybe, I underestimate who I really am. One day, his words were met by silence. I've laid in the bed where old friends die just hoping for one last scent.
I climbed the mountain no one said I could. Jesus, people, the air is thin. I could choke on my inflated ego. Who could love me more than I love myself? I've worn the skin of a self-loathing man.
I never know how sad I really am until I fall asleep. These dreams are heavy; too much to bear. They pierce, they prod every unhealed wound. Doctor wants to prescribe me a temporary salve. She never looks me in the eyes. I've worn the smile of an unloved clown.
Oh, that doctor believes life is grand. Maybe, the half empty glass needs a refill. One day, water will flow throughout this desert. I cringe, I cling at this very thought. Nobody wants to die of thirst.
I wear the shoes of the unloved man. I don't dare to sleep on nights like these. Jesus, people, I'm counting sheep; the sheep being led to the slaughterhouse. Maybe, dreams are warning signs. I'll toss, I'll turn as conviction gets the best of me.
I wear the mask of a tired man.
As I drift out in nowhere, the sun and the moon reacquaint. Jesus, people, when will the bleeding stop? Who can love another yet never say those words? An unloved man will climb any mountain just in hope that approval awaits at its peak. It's a long trip down when that peak is met by silence. I've worn the boots of an adventurous man.
Oh, she loves me on certain days. Like those days, she needs me. Maybe, I am far too analytical. One day, I will rest in peace. I will wear the suit and tie of the well remembered.
Jesus, people, my closet is full; consisting of everyone else's worn attire. Maybe, it's just my fault. I'll sit, I'll stir at this possibility.
And one day, the clock will stop. And the sun and moon will divorce. And mountaintops will just be plateaus. And the unloved man finally gets his sleep.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Thank you, Bob Saget
Recently, I learned something about myself: I love to be annoyed. I
am not happy unless I am irritated. If I have nothing to complain
about, I am at a loss for words.
There I was; enduring another old episode of Full House. That show from two decades ago where two extremely corny men and one ridiculous rock star wannabe raise a bunch of girls. There has never been a show that irritates me more than Full House. Sure, Saved by the Bell comes very close and certainly, there are many others that just suck BUT nothing grates me more than the show who was headlined by Bob Saget.
Only Bob Saget can take a relatively good idea and ruin it. Take America's funniest Home Videos for example: Great concept, funny clips BUT that show was ruined each episode Mr. Saget opened his mouth with some lame punchline to coincide with the relatively funny home videos.
Bob Saget is the cockblocker of good entertainment ideas.
There, I said it.
And if you don't believe he is that bad, watch him do stand up. You will witness a man completely overcompensating for his "goody goody" image. His comedy act consists of dick jokes and a lot of swearing. It's awkward, at best.
So, as I was saying... there I was, for the 14th day in a row, watching an old episode of Full House. I was completely agitated; angry at such bad humor, annoyed that "writers" were being paid to "write" such a painfully unfunny script. BUT, I couldn't stop watching.
That's when it dawned on me, that I love being irritated. There really is no other explanation that I, or anyone would ever subject themselves to such torture disguised in a family show.
Yesterday, was the ten year anniversary of the day I lost my best friend; the best man I have ever known. An insidious disease, yes alcoholism is a disease, took his life.
I spent part of the day reminiscing about him. And us. And the good times. And the bad ones.
He's the reason I write. Just about everything I ever say on paper is inspired by him. And our friendship. And the what ifs. And the whys.
So, many thoughts raced through my head last night, precisely around 10:15, the hour in which he was found gone. I considered writing something really vague here; grieving in ambiguity. I thought I will turn these emotions into some artistic life form; something people will interpret in their own way, something some people won't even understand.
But, it was HIS anniversary and he was a straight talker. So, I figured, I'd say nothing or I would speak clearly.
For him. And for me. My peace of mind.
For the twenty plus years I spent with him, not a moment was wasted. A lot of who I am today is because of who he was everyday. Look, he wasn't perfect but damn, there has never nor will there ever be a man like him. He was my big brother, my dad, my best friend or at least, the closest to any of those people I have ever known.
We, as humans, do this thing where we mark on our calenders the deaths of those we loved. Like it was an end of an era or the end of something big. That once remarkable person now has been reduced to a milestone.
Last night, like usual, I started asking questions and wondering about the unknown. If death is a new birth for those of us who believe, was there a ten year birthday party on the other side for him? It's just a random question and deep down, I know the answer.
Time is nothing but an artificial concept we created. It really doesn't exist. He was 32 years old, just two weeks shy of his 33rd birthday, when he left us. But if death is a part of life, then really, he's still living which means that number, the number 32, means absolutely nothing. That's the beauty of life; we are born, we reach certain milestones, we live, we die and then we are remembered.
Everything runs full circle. Circles never end.
Last night, I did a 6 hour marathon of my favorite TV show of all time, How I Met your Mother. It's not only funny but it's poignant and brilliantly constructed..
It's a simple concept, really. A show based on a small circle of friends and focuses on one character who is looking for the love of his life. Each episode ends with this character talking to his future children about how he met his wife, their mother.
This is season nine, the season we finally learn who their mother is... The twists and turns that have culminated into this final unveiling, personally, are something I can relate to so well.
As the narrator, the future version of the main character stated in one of the episodes last night,
"That was the year I got left at the altar. It was the year I got knocked out by a crazed bartender, the year I got fired, the year I got beat up by a goat—a girl goat at that—and damn it if it wasn't the best year of my life. Because if any one of those things hadn't happened, I never would've ended up in what turned out to be the best job I ever had. But more importantly, I wouldn't have met your mother."
Those words really hit me last night. Of all nights, the ten year anniversary of losing someone important, it dawned on me that sure, life sucks sometimes. Certainly, we all have faced and will face tragedy and hardships. But, everything runs in perfect order.
If I had never met that man and if he wasn't the influence he was on me, I would not be who I am today. His leaving us so soon is tragic for those of us left behind. But I don't dare claim it was tragic for him because I believe he is finally at peace. And I believe there is something greater than this life.
The narrator on my favorite show of all time is none other than Bob Saget.
His character speaks with such wisdom. He retells the story of his own life with such ease and quietude. It makes one feel that it's okay when life takes us on a detour or deals us some shitty cards because eventually, we are all led in perfect order to something greater.
It's not to say we all get happy endings because we all don't but since life has no true ending, sometimes that something greater comes after we have departed.
I believe that. I have to.
Thank you, Bob Saget. I once hated you. Now, I can tolerate you because you have become a refuge for me.
Even if it's just from a TV show.
There I was; enduring another old episode of Full House. That show from two decades ago where two extremely corny men and one ridiculous rock star wannabe raise a bunch of girls. There has never been a show that irritates me more than Full House. Sure, Saved by the Bell comes very close and certainly, there are many others that just suck BUT nothing grates me more than the show who was headlined by Bob Saget.
Only Bob Saget can take a relatively good idea and ruin it. Take America's funniest Home Videos for example: Great concept, funny clips BUT that show was ruined each episode Mr. Saget opened his mouth with some lame punchline to coincide with the relatively funny home videos.
Bob Saget is the cockblocker of good entertainment ideas.
There, I said it.
And if you don't believe he is that bad, watch him do stand up. You will witness a man completely overcompensating for his "goody goody" image. His comedy act consists of dick jokes and a lot of swearing. It's awkward, at best.
So, as I was saying... there I was, for the 14th day in a row, watching an old episode of Full House. I was completely agitated; angry at such bad humor, annoyed that "writers" were being paid to "write" such a painfully unfunny script. BUT, I couldn't stop watching.
That's when it dawned on me, that I love being irritated. There really is no other explanation that I, or anyone would ever subject themselves to such torture disguised in a family show.
Yesterday, was the ten year anniversary of the day I lost my best friend; the best man I have ever known. An insidious disease, yes alcoholism is a disease, took his life.
I spent part of the day reminiscing about him. And us. And the good times. And the bad ones.
He's the reason I write. Just about everything I ever say on paper is inspired by him. And our friendship. And the what ifs. And the whys.
So, many thoughts raced through my head last night, precisely around 10:15, the hour in which he was found gone. I considered writing something really vague here; grieving in ambiguity. I thought I will turn these emotions into some artistic life form; something people will interpret in their own way, something some people won't even understand.
But, it was HIS anniversary and he was a straight talker. So, I figured, I'd say nothing or I would speak clearly.
For him. And for me. My peace of mind.
For the twenty plus years I spent with him, not a moment was wasted. A lot of who I am today is because of who he was everyday. Look, he wasn't perfect but damn, there has never nor will there ever be a man like him. He was my big brother, my dad, my best friend or at least, the closest to any of those people I have ever known.
We, as humans, do this thing where we mark on our calenders the deaths of those we loved. Like it was an end of an era or the end of something big. That once remarkable person now has been reduced to a milestone.
Last night, like usual, I started asking questions and wondering about the unknown. If death is a new birth for those of us who believe, was there a ten year birthday party on the other side for him? It's just a random question and deep down, I know the answer.
Time is nothing but an artificial concept we created. It really doesn't exist. He was 32 years old, just two weeks shy of his 33rd birthday, when he left us. But if death is a part of life, then really, he's still living which means that number, the number 32, means absolutely nothing. That's the beauty of life; we are born, we reach certain milestones, we live, we die and then we are remembered.
Everything runs full circle. Circles never end.
Last night, I did a 6 hour marathon of my favorite TV show of all time, How I Met your Mother. It's not only funny but it's poignant and brilliantly constructed..
It's a simple concept, really. A show based on a small circle of friends and focuses on one character who is looking for the love of his life. Each episode ends with this character talking to his future children about how he met his wife, their mother.
This is season nine, the season we finally learn who their mother is... The twists and turns that have culminated into this final unveiling, personally, are something I can relate to so well.
As the narrator, the future version of the main character stated in one of the episodes last night,
"That was the year I got left at the altar. It was the year I got knocked out by a crazed bartender, the year I got fired, the year I got beat up by a goat—a girl goat at that—and damn it if it wasn't the best year of my life. Because if any one of those things hadn't happened, I never would've ended up in what turned out to be the best job I ever had. But more importantly, I wouldn't have met your mother."
That
was the year I got left at the altar, it was the year I got knocked out
by a crazed bartender, the year I got fired, the year I got beat up by a
goat, a girl goat at that, and damn it if it wasn’t the best year of my
life. Because if any one of those things hadn’t happened, I never
would’ve ended up in what turned out to be the best job I ever had. But
more importantly, I wouldn’t have met your mother. Because as you know,
she was in that class. Of course, that story is just beginning. - See
more at:
http://www.quotesworthrepeating.com/tv-quotes/how-i-met-your-mother-quotes/#sthash.vePGYc8c.dpuf
That
was the year I got left at the altar, it was the year I got knocked out
by a crazed bartender, the year I got fired, the year I got beat up by a
goat, a girl goat at that, and damn it if it wasn’t the best year of my
life. Because if any one of those things hadn’t happened, I never
would’ve ended up in what turned out to be the best job I ever had. But
more importantly, I wouldn’t have met your mother. Because as you know,
she was in that class. Of course, that story is just beginning. - See
more at:
http://www.quotesworthrepeating.com/tv-quotes/how-i-met-your-mother-quotes/#sthash.vePGYc8c.dpuf
Those words really hit me last night. Of all nights, the ten year anniversary of losing someone important, it dawned on me that sure, life sucks sometimes. Certainly, we all have faced and will face tragedy and hardships. But, everything runs in perfect order.
If I had never met that man and if he wasn't the influence he was on me, I would not be who I am today. His leaving us so soon is tragic for those of us left behind. But I don't dare claim it was tragic for him because I believe he is finally at peace. And I believe there is something greater than this life.
The narrator on my favorite show of all time is none other than Bob Saget.
His character speaks with such wisdom. He retells the story of his own life with such ease and quietude. It makes one feel that it's okay when life takes us on a detour or deals us some shitty cards because eventually, we are all led in perfect order to something greater.
It's not to say we all get happy endings because we all don't but since life has no true ending, sometimes that something greater comes after we have departed.
I believe that. I have to.
Thank you, Bob Saget. I once hated you. Now, I can tolerate you because you have become a refuge for me.
Even if it's just from a TV show.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Dirty Shoes
Tomorrow, what if my shoes don't fit? Hey, Material Girl, it's a material world. What if your shoes don't fit?
We talk about trust.
We talk about integrity
Even if I unveiled my impurity, it wouldn't matter.
I'd just be revealing my ambiguity.
I said it could never happen to me. You said it could never happen to you. If you don't believe in God, you don't believe in laughter. Some jokes aren't funny anymore. Like the ones I'm about to tell:
Remember when you crashed your car? We all thanked God for that tree. You wouldn't take a shit for those three days in jail. Nothing is funnier than vanity.
Remember how we've never met? You're just a face on my computer screen. But you mean a hell of a lot to me. Tomorrow, we may not be friends. Hey, Material Girl on my computer screen, what if that world went black? Will you think of me? It's funny that we trivialize our own lives.
I don't want to walk in your shoes. Much less mine.
You prefer the noise.
I prefer the serene.
You get lost in the crowd.
I get lost in a computer screen.
It will never be 1989 again. It seems so long ago. I took a ride in your pickup truck and I never returned home. Now, I've got nowhere else to go.
I hope you're enjoying your pearly gated community.
Why do I laugh so much? I grieve in ambiguity.
It's not quiet when the lights go down. Some hamsters never stop running on that wheel. Don't ask me why I can't sleep. There is no switch to turn off these thoughts.
I don't want to walk in your shoes. You know your expiration date. Material girl is about to lose her hair. And much much more.
Just when we get comfortable in our own shoes, God gives us a different pair to wear.
I never tell you this but you break my heart. It breaks for you.
What if your shoes don't fit? Will you stop running away from me?
I don't want new shoes. I'd be happy in the pair I wore way back then. Everything was so much easier.
Before you go. Before you leave. Will you please tell me what I did right? All any of us ever do is focus on where we went wrong. Will you please tell me where I went right?
It's inevitable.
It's just a part of life.
Hearts are edible
And you're feeding on mine tonight.
I don't want to walk in your shoes. Ask me and I might try.
Hey Material Girl, you can't run in high heels. But you sure look pretty.
Nothing is funnier than vanity.
Because it's a waste of time. And we have no time to waste.
I don't want to walk in your dirty shoes.
Much less mine.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The Other Side
I want to take a trip to the other side. Just for a day.
Did someone ever tell you that you aren't easy to love? Words not spoken are louder than bombs. I want to take a trip to the other side to say a few things. I'm sorry for the silence you were dying to avoid.
Remember that future we clung to? Big ideas give birth to disappointment. But the labor pains, they're no big deal.
I want to go to the place where memories are intact. Just to be reminded of those things I love. Like you.
I bet you're in love with your new reflection. But this time, you won't drown from staring too long. We all deserve a little less self-loathing. The other side is the reward for the weak.
There I was; just a little kid. "Sir, what is heaven like?"
That man had some crazy ideas. Crazy ideas give birth to a life well lived. But the labor pains, they hurt like hell.
On the other side, do old friends reunite? I have some words I never got to say. Words not spoken are louder than bombs.
I want to go to the place where only rich men fight in rich men's battles. Just to see a world where war ceases to exist. Those rich men don't like getting dirty. They will fight like hell to live forever.
I want to take a trip to the other side. Just for a day. Just to hear an old friend talk without a stutter. And to see him walk at a normal pace.
I would visit that old man who won't recognize me. Maybe, on the other side, he would call me, "son".
There I was, approaching my angst. I took the road less traveled. "Sir, do you believe in Heaven?"
That man, he had it all figured it out. "There has to be some place better than here." Two weeks later, our preacher gave us the news. That man was about to find out if he was right.
I want to take a trip to the other side. Just to hear him say, "Told you so".
I want to take a trip to the other side. Just for a day.
I would wander the streets calling out names of those I once knew. And if I heard their replies, I would say a few things. Because words not spoken are louder than bombs.
There I'd be, embracing my faith. Breathing in the fresh air of the other side.
I'd probably ask just one question. "Sir, what is heaven like?"
And someone I once knew and loved would probably talk about beauty. Beautiful ideas give birth to hope. And the labor pains are only temporary.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Cowboy in Blue
Down in the city where Elvis is revered, I'll wait for you. I can bide my time in a smoke filled chamber where daddy's little girl tells me what I want to hear. And this handsome devil will borrow something blue just to fill the void between me and you.
Took a wrong turn down the path of righteousness. Found myself surrounded by familiarity. Slept with the wolves because the drugs were free. Faced my own demons just to make you proud.
Someday.
Everything was a rumor until I met you. Watched a grown man ride off into the sunset. He was no cowboy, just a coward in blue. And I called him dad.
Down in the city where tumbleweeds are in bloom, I bide my time singing out of tune. They say, the music never gets old. They don't know the void between me and you.
Cowboys don't come in a suit and a tie. They don't give a damn about the politics of war. Soldier says, he's coming home soon. Little does he know, it'll be in a zipped up bag. Cowboys fight for freedom while soldiers die for greed. Down in the city where John Wayne is passe, all the so-called patriots talk red white and blue. And me, I am just waiting for you.
Played russian roulette with a few of my friends. Sometimes, I wish I would have won. Don't care much for this world anymore but I'll bide my time telling their tales. Maybe, they'll be proud and forgive me for this.
Someday.
Everything was a possibility until I met you. Drove past the house where I first touched your face. Hope never looks as good in the rear view mirror. She's just an angel like everyone else. And I call her mine.
Down in the city where the waves crash the beach, I look for the calm so I'm ready for the storm. They say, it's coming, I better be ready. They don't know but I'm going down with the ship. I'll wear something blue so I'm lost out at sea. In between the space of hope and our dreams lies the void of you and of me.
We could play doctor then fall fast asleep. But then we'd wake up in sheets stained of regret. You follow the moon and I'll follow the sun. They were once in love now we have night and day. You stand over there. I'll stand over here. I'll wear something blue while waiting for you. Everything will be fine.
Someday.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Jumper
In the annals of time, let his story be told as follows:
He wore his favorite tie that morning; the one his son bought him on Father's day. He kissed his wife and off he went. Jumper's not coming home again.
Evil awoke with a toothy grin. The prince of the air feasted on our fear.. Jumper had no time to think.
Down down the rabbit hole. Free fall speed, no time to think. Goodbye honey. Goodbye, love. Jumper ponders the pavement down below.
Ten Seconds is all he had; along with 200 other souls. Who's gonna save them now? Who's gonna pick up the pieces of his broken shell? If man could fly, we'd be telling a different story. Evil lurked, September morning.
When is daddy coming home? He promised me he'd never leave. What is happening on the news? Buildings burning, I'm going back to bed.
Ten seconds to rejoice for those he must leave behind. Ten seconds to learn to fly then to curse the God who reserved those wings just for the angels. Ten seconds to say goodbye. Memories flood the mind between time and space.
Down below where people look like ants, Jumper pleads for their help. The ants, in a collective cry, rush about aimlessly. Coffee and nicotine crowd the streets. If man could fly, heaven would be an arms length away. Evil lurked, September morning.
Ten seconds of telepathic thought as terror sears the flesh from Jumper's spine.
Tell my wife, it was my only choice. Remind my son, I am not Superman. Jumper uses his T-shirt as a cape.
Down below the ants scream in horror; hoping it's no one they know.
In the annals of time, let it be written that Jumper tried to fly.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Dinner with the Devil
I had dinner with the devil. She ate her salad with a pitchfork. She was cloaked in red.
Staring at the menu, I settled on the lobster.
"Honey, did you know that lobsters don't have brains? Honey, did you know that lobsters never die unless nature intercedes? Honey, lobsters never age. They theoretically could live forever."
She was busy with her hair. She was careful not to eat too fast.
"Honey, lobsters don't have brains but they do have a heart. Honey, lobsters live forever if nature doesn't intercede."
She wears her favorite panties only on nights she knows I'll get a glimpse. I had dinner with the devil. Underneath it all, her soul was draped in black lace.
She had dinner with an angel. He ate his seafood with his hands. He was cloaked in shame.
Staring at the menu, she settled on a salad.
"Baby, I'm pleased to meet you. I hope you guessed my name."
He was busy licking his fingers of a creature that never dies unless nature intercedes
I had dinner with the devil. I pondered my every move. The devil cloaked in red; smiled quite profusely.
I swear I wasn't thinking. Hell is nothing but neurosis. Constant and never ending.
I had dinner with the devil. I signed the dotted line.
"Honey, how can anyone with a heart somehow live forever? .
The devil cloaked in red; with an angelic disposition, looked at the angel draped in shame and said, "Baby, you think too much. Brains are over rated".
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