Imagine if Your Favorite Band of All Time Was The Fixx?

When it is warm too warm to sleep and any idea I ever had about forever is hiding in an unmarked box in it’s fifteenth basement, fire builds in my brain. I feel and see every bad thing coming now two days before it happens. I have several ideas and places I want to be. I have several ideas of what I know will be the reality. Things don’t work out because you wish them to work. Things don’t happen because you will them or want them to happen. They don’t happen when you pray. When your loved one is filled with cancer or whatever else is going to kill them, go ahead and pray and see what happens. Your god sends them to nowheresville, to a void. Enjoy your photographs and memories. All of this shit happening, it’s all my fault. Has nothing to do with fate or because I wanted it to happen. All of the other things though, yeah you know. Those all happen because people are basically shitty. You can’t count on anyone. Everyone lies or is just never there when you really need them or want them.


Today is an amazing day here. The sun is so bright, and I don’t know if it’s these sunglasses I have on but the sky is so blue it looks like the Pacific Ocean. I have a nice cup of coffee here and I can’t imagine a better time to be alive than right now. Things are looking up. I have been getting a ton of writing done, creative writing. I’ve had some great weekends with friends lately, taken some great pictures. I applied for a job that may put me back in California which would be great!

I can’t really deal with the

I actually have to go to the bathroom so I’m not going to finish this one.

How Do They Sleep At Night?

One night a long time ago I died for a few minute or something like that. Whatever they said, passed out in the living room. This dude thought I was going to fuck his girlfriend (I was) and well, yeah I died for a couple of minutes.

That whole situation should have been some sort of indication, or what I see in the afternoon here. Early evening dinners in shitty chain restaurants and a husband stares into the distance while his wife eyes around the restaurant wondering how she lives such an empty existence with this man sitting across from here. The guy just ran out of something at one point, just gave up the fight and cashed in his Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders posters and Lone Ranger trading cards. The seven minute drive back to the house he listens to sports radio and she plays Tetris on her cell phone he gave her four years ago.



One night a long time ago I passed out and fell out of a car. Granted the car was parked, but still. I have a scar from this on my nose still. We were sitting in some car outside of a 7-11, probably as high as a kite. Up to nothing really.

I should have learned then that the more I sit around and don’t do a thing, the less I have to live. I guess I was making myself healthier a tiny bit at a time, but completely failing in every other aspect. Imagine a time when I thought of going out to do things all the time every night. Like maybe 19 years old telling jokes about who knows what. I would have been listening to The Jam or The Specials around that age. The whole world surrounded by rock and roll, no internet and books about dragons or Hitler.



I was rightfully paranoid when I entered the woods. I have been paranoid since I can’t remember when. Everything, nothing supernatural or anything like that. What you see though, on a daily basis. That stuff makes me paranoid and delusional. Any kind of hunch there is something scary and unsavory there, even the slightest little one, I am always right on about it. Even half asleep as they float around my head right before I trail off, I see them.



If this is all actually real and not just some cooked up movie I wrote in five months. If this is all some kind of elaborate plan eventually removed from my brain. If this is how it is from here on out I will truly lose faith in too many things to count on one hand. At least mirrors exist, they make me stronger and they definitely make them weaker. There is no possible way anyone is making eye contact with themselves in 2010.

Explodes in My Head Like Bright Red Fireworks

Comes on every few hours
It has been there for a couple of years now
Making me feel three feet away from my self,
like my shadow is me and I’m just a host waiting to expire.

After a trillion mixed tapes and movies I never wanted to see anyway
After a trillion lies dumped into my head, not even remotely processed
After a trillion drives through the woods and drives to the ocean and drives to my house...their houses
After a trillion haircuts and bad cologne
After a trillion times saying things I most likely never meant
Here I am with horrible lyrics from the 80’s in my head by homosexual men
I end up having to write my own
“oh baby please don’t hurt my soul again”
“oh mama you are so pretty the sky has nothing on your eyes”
“hey sweetheart let your hair down so we can hit the road”
etc

Every few days it happens
I turn into this guy I knew once
Dark blue button down sweater
Head full of ideas of what i thought was best for me
Man I would pay fifteen million dollars for a crystal ball
Go back in time and hand it to myself

After a trillion conversations I should have never had
After a trillion different hairdos and shoes I lied about liking
After a trillion different levels of anger I hit every day
After a trillion different times walking through the snow, the sun, the rain and up hills
After a trillion hours and hours of trying to convince myself I’ve ever made a good decision in my life
I end up with the remnants of the same soul as these gross Los Angeles losers I see
Black sunken in eyes
Still looking for some sort of piece of recognition
Still holding on to that dream, forgetting everyone is selfish
Nobody ever wants to hear you until you start to suffer or feel and look like shit
I see these fucks here every ten minutes out here and then realize how much more I am

Every few months I feel like this
I feel like I need to have some sort of other part of me
I forget how intense everything has been when I see it with my own eyes
They can live vicariously through me, I never learned to share
I certainly don’t feel like it now, fuck them all and the minivans they rode in on

After a trillion phone calls from 1985 through 2009
After a trillion times I can physically feel my head working overtime
After a trillion times wanting to believe everything I see and hear
After a trillion different explanations why I feel like I do from a trillion different non-doctors
After a trillion times I looked into eyes I can’t remember the color of
I arrive here, with the most horrible thoughts a person can have in their head, stuck there
I arrive here with a broken heart, an empty skull and the best TV money can buy
I arrive here with a tan and whatever excuse I can think of for being the biggest pussy in the world

Sign Language

(written a long time ago on Diaryland)

Sitting at home alone with John Lee Hooker on the stereo: You got your aftertaste of some cheap beer, and maybe a shot or two. You’ve smoked who knows how many cigarettes, and may have smoked pot, you can’t remember. “That phone hasn’t rang in 2 years” you think to yourself. Do you remember when she would wear that one thing you loved? She always had that one outfit that made you smile. That one outfit that also made you a little possessive too. You knew she looked good, and every guy in the world wanted to fuck your girl. She looked great in this outfit, the boys all noticed.. You were going home with her though. You couldn’t tell yourself this though. You couldn’t accept that she loved you, the guys looking at her were not obstacles. They were guys, with cocks in their pants. Yeah, they wanted to fuck your girlfriend, because of that outfit that you loved. The irony was unbearable for you. You sealed your own fate when you accepted her into your life. You knew you would never forget her. You knew it would end eventually, but you did nothing. You let it happen. Why was it so easy when it first ended? You thought it was going to be a breeze. “She left me, it’s okay, it was pretty much over anyway”. Is that really what you think though? Do you think it’s over? It’s not over, if it were truly over, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now like this. Remember what she looked like when she laughed at one of your jokes? Remember what she looked like when you would kiss her? Remember what she looked like when she was on top of you fucking you? Remember that? You can picture her as clear as the sky. You can see her face right in front of you. The few things that are vividly engraved in your head, among them, her face. There’s some guy out there memorizing that face right now. There’s some guy that is falling in love with that face she made when you were fucking her. You invented that face for her. She only made that face for you. It’s easy to think that she invented that whole look for you. There is a group of men out there right now that will enjoy that face she made. They’ll enjoy the way she looked at you after getting off you asking you “did you like that?”. It’s now 3AM, you’re still awake. “She’s probably in bed right now” you think to yourself. From 1AM to 3AM has been the hardest time for you. This is most likely when she has sex with the new guy. Unfortunately, that’s not true. Your girl is now having sex all night, long after you go to sleep. Hours after you fell asleep to some random Shannon Tweed movie on cable. She’s not safely in bed with nothing inside of her at 3AM, she’s getting ready to fuck this new guy again. She was tied down with you for so long, the sex got routine. She needs to get it out of her now, she needs to fuck this new guy like she’s never fucked before. She needs to stay up way later than you ever wanted to. She doesn’t mention you to the new guy, but she thinks about you. “He never used to fuck me like this”. She’s ready to try those things with this new guy she wouldn’t try with you. Maybe she’ll finally get around to trying ecstasy, something you never let her do. Now that you don’t have her hand, she will try ecstasy with this new guy. She didn’t think things weren’t working anymore between you. She wanted to fuck more men. She wanted to feel free. She wanted the option to stay out all night on a Friday night to fuck that guy she worked with she always told you about that made you jealous. She’s wanted to fuck that guy since the day she met him. All of her girlfriends knew this, they told her to go for it once “you get rid of your boyfriend” She fucked him 5 days after you two broke up. You broke up on a Monday, Friday night she was introducing the guy from work to her face. The face you thought she just made for you. While you had a lonely Friday night piece of pizza in your apartment with no music on, she was getting some drinks in her, and had already decided on Wednesday that she would fuck this guy from work. You’re home, late on a Friday night. A night out with the guys. Down to the bar, grab something to eat. Talk about science fiction and hardware tools, and football. She was at some bar in the city you would never go to with that guy from work. It’s been less than a week, and she’s already over you it seems. Why was she crying when she broke up with you then? Because she feels bad for you, she pities you, because she’s depressed she wasted all that time with you. She wasn’t crying with you, she was crying at you. Your tears will fill up a bathtub, her tears will fill up a Dixie cup. She’s not going to remember your phone number in three months. Imagine that, she’ll need to call you at one point to get something back from you, and she’ll have to look up your number. Her new friend may even drive her by to pick it up. What are you going to say to her when you finally see her? That first time you see her after she dumps you is always the worst. Your stomach fills up with butterflies and air. You were just getting used to eating solid food again when you had to run into her finally. You had to get yourself back into this. You thought you were starting to get over her when you ran into her. Sorry, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, she’s back in your head. Wow, she looks really good too. Are there any hickeys on her neck? Did she have sex last night? What happens if I touch her right now. You give her the hug. The “I miss you so fucking much” hug. This hug lasts 5 minutes or so, your hands are moving a whole lot more than hers. She keeps patting you on the back during the hug. You forgot the rule that if your lover ever hugs you and pats you on the back lightly, the relationship is over, done. This means “thanks for the hug, here you go” She’s giving you this hug right now, but you have no idea, you’re being overwhelmed with how amazing her body feels up against yours. You are being filled up with all of those emotions again. When this hug is over, that’s it, you’re in it again. You’re done for at least another month. More lonely kitchens, more lonely movies on the television. Shopping isn’t as fun as it was. It’s so fucking over the fat lady’s voice is hoarse by now. It’s been signed and filed away in some file cabinet somewhere. That hug may have been the last time you touched her, or it could have been the first in a series of relapses that you will experience over the next year or so. No girl is going to come around like her again. There’s no girl out there that can do what she did for me. What did she do for you? Your life is now being taken over by her. You got involved with her, and your prize is having her invade your emotions and head until you can’t stop it. You start up old habits, you fall apart, you cry more than you ever have. You’re scared to go home at night, you’re scared to check your voice mail. You are now more in love with her than you were when she was in love with you. Funny how things work out.


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