Monday, March 28, 2011

Medicine For a Nightmare

Without the aid of drugs or making the eyes tired I’m kept awake by constant noise in my brain - like an echo chamber – voices of a million ideas and people from throughout the day still talking to me – memories from six years ago – conversations from last week – lines from movies I hated – women from thirty-six years ago complaining about how cold it is – standing around outside waiting to see something more exciting on the dry pavement – flat worn down cigarette butts – pebbles – plastic bottle caps – pebbles – sand – footprints – everything a cold grey color – they all stare at their feet when they talk to me – warm green eyes – warm hazel eyes – warm blue eyes – dark brown eyes that are truly the only ones I want staring at me – I can’t even look her in the eye without trembling – she is the one I would stop listening to music for – she can crush me in a second with her smile – I can’t ever – I will never know what this is about – drifting further away is going to make it all better maybe – I can make them all laugh – I can piss them off to no end – wide awake late into the night though – wondering who even gives a shit – wondering if any of them ever think of me anymore – I think of them all now – this last time though – I never felt stronger – left to feel weak and guilty like I did wrong – the echoes as I try to sleep – I wonder how drugs might help again – I hear voices and laughter – voices of people I haven’t met yet – voices of the last thirty women I wanted to fuck the shit out of – voices of the ones who are of no consequence anymore – when I am far away from here – sitting on a bench looking over the night peppered with orange freckles – a valley of dreams and where I always wanted to die – long boulevards of strangers and friends and hey look it’s open all night – like a grid – I stood up there in September one night – the beginning of what I thought was the best story I could ever write – medicine for a nightmare – a cure for an ailment that never existed in the first place – back and forth and back and forth and back and forth – whatever the case – anyone who tries to judge me now – the fire and energy from a trillion suns on everyone they’ve ever loved – I spend nights listening to nobody – an empty head full of ideas I can’t hear because of all this other static – when I get to an nice open space though – when high above me a black ceiling with billions of stars confusing me and my eyes – relaxing my eyes and pointing me in the desired direction – when I am there I’ll know I’m finally on my way home – these days silence only happens for five minutes at a time – I can’t spend another grey season in this echo chamber – the sound of a distant signal high upon a mountain lulling me to sleep – remember that?

Sunday, March 27, 2011


At the tail end of yet another never ending ice age standing at the edge of a cliff looking towards where the sun falls out of the sky.
People sit and watch it every night.
Here though, nobody pays any attention. This is not where or how I want to spend eternity.
Cold weather and colder people
Long forgotten promises and conversations
Like spending your life waiting for something you want to happen
This time I can make it happen
Every March is like this
Every winter does this
I make better decisions when I am straight
So whatever decision I just made, it’s the only one I ever need to make
This place and everything about it, no. 

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

She'll Laugh

It’s perfectly okay to forget about places and people and things you did
I could worry myself to sleep like the best of them
Nowadays I just fall asleep empty with not a care in the world
No wondering if I pissed one or five people off
No wondering when I might get the courage up to leave everything and everyone alone
I really want to do it all again, try it again
Sooner than I think I will
This place
This area of the country
This state
This life right now
There are no rewards
There is contentment
I never “can’t wait to get up tomorrow” anymore
Like a machine here though
I do it every day
Everything I thought was back here isn’t here at all
Everything and everyone is the same
Cold, selfish, uninterested in anything I am interested in
It’s like everything here moved ahead (backwards?) while I was gone
I have no desire to catch up really
This New England place, it’s incorrect
I have nothing in common with it
Lying and saying “I’m a New England person” sounds good
Looks okay on paper I guess
When I think of steel, sunlight and blank skies though
I feel like myself all over again
I guess you can be wrong a few times in a row before you get it right

She comes to me every few weeks - I remember how in love with her I can get - I remember how in love with her deep eyes I can be - Her laugh and hands and smile - I can never have that ever really - every few weeks though I return

Sunday, March 06, 2011


I feel like I am constantly blue because my feelings are all ghosts now
There’s nothing deep happening at all
A guy who goes to work and has some people around from time to time
At this point I’ll never really get that much closer
I don’t need to really
All of the people I talk to regularly are women
Even just being friends with women you see how emotional they are
They all cry constantly
All they ever fucking do is cry
Listening to what is important to them
I ignore and wonder if that one John Coltrane album is in that one box or on that one shelf
At the end of the day though
Listening to a woman talk is easier than listening to men talk

Since I came back here I feel like I write the same sentences over and over. Even though “everything is going great”, at the end of the night it really isn’t. Here I am like so many warm nights under palm trees and whatever the song of the week was at that time. I listen to all of those songs now. Valentine’s Day I spent listening to the soundtrack of a snake of a road trip along the brighter ocean from however many Septembers ago that was. Now at work there is a calendar hung near me with a picture of that rock we stopped at just north of Malibu. To say I miss things is wrong. I’m disappointed in everything, myself included. Some nights, well most nights I realize I’ll never have those feelings for anyone ever again. Not that intense as they were leading up to the first night we spent together. I meet women or talk to them and don’t have anything her and I initially had. Apparently it wasn’t as real to her I guess. Pretty sure she is way far gone now. Pretty much done looking for anything like that and am never going to settle. Telling myself what to do sounds like a better option in the long run anyway, who wants to become one of these dudes attached at the hip to some chick all day every day at this point?

I feel something inside
Like way down deep
Something unsatisfied
Like I want a cigarette
Or to get high
I can't take any of that seriously
I barely sleep maybe it could help?
At the end of the night I fall asleep
I rest easy not tossing and turning
Weeping about eyes and hair
It's the waking in the middle of the night
I need to go somewhere
Do something different