Sunday, December 5, 2010

Questions (since answered)

I wonder...after all this time...after some more years pass before us, and further down the line...will I ever stop missing you? After all the memories fade? And so many new ones made? I wonder...
does this kind of love ever completely fade away? Will I forget all of the good times, and all the ones that caused me pain? Will I pass you on the street and carelessly say hi? Will there come a time when I can look into your eyes and no longer miss you? Will I ever stop missing you? Sometimes I catch a whiff of your cologne, a memory on the breeze, on someone else/s skin, and my heart still skips a beat. Will I always refer back to you no matter who I meet? Will it always feel like swordplay when I think of all the things we'd say? After decades gone by, will I have ever stopped missing you?

Friday, May 7, 2010

Mustache, Oh Mustache

Who can really say when it began? If you want to go Freudian then my mustache obsession was probably imbred in me from the start. My dad had a decent mustache. Nothing to write home about, but certainly respectable. Thing is, I always seemed to loathe his mustache, almost as much as I loathed and despised him.
I do remember seeing my first mustache that sparked something inside me. It was 2002, and I was 16. Sitting in a dark theater watching "Gangs of New York", I could barely keep myself from jumping out of my seat and licking the screen. But it wasn't until years later that I could put my finger on exactly what it was that I found so irresistible. It wasn't the glass eye that he taps his knife on. It couldn't be the greasy hair, the willingness to kill in cold blood that could draw a young girl in in such a way. Oh Bill the Butcher, if only you were real.

No. It was the stache. Thick, black, and perfect. To think of it now is to think of a youthful crush that one will never forget. God damn. It's just SO FUCKING HOT.

Nowadays mustaches and the women that love them have become quite the trend. I recall that relatively recently a mustache was something special, something rare. You had to search for the kind of person that could really respect and admire a good mustache and all that went into it. Now they are all the rage, and just like Hello Kitty, tu-tu's, flannel shirts and every other trendy fave before it, "everyone is doing it." Stick on staches, mustache emblazoned T-shirts, plugs, septum rings for a glass stache--the country's obsession can be fueled by more and more merchandise.
These people, they are not true fans, lovers, etc. Mustaches are cool right now, they are "in", they are "hip". When everyone loves a mustache, no one can truly love a mustache. It's only a matter of time. What is popular will always quickly fade and burn-out, making way for something new to take-over.

Me? I am just biding my time. Waiting until like every craze before it, the masses lose interest. Then the true mustache fetishists will regain our footing, take back our turf, and rise again.


I leave you with this, still my favorite stache, still does it for me...every...time.



Monday, April 5, 2010

And now for something completely different

A year and a half ago I fell in love with my best friend. So I told him I couldn't speak to him again. I spent 6 months blaming him for not fighting for me. I spent another 6 months blaming myself for not fighting for him. Now I can see--it was the best thing I ever did. Hindsight is clearer than 20/20, it's 20/10. Sometimes it takes a while, but when the blinders fall away, you'll know.
I couldn't accept how we felt about each other then. It's a wonder that I couldn't see, with all the signs in front of me, lighting the way down the road. I didn't know.

I am over the moon to know in my heart that I am finally moving on. I know I will always love him, and I hope we know each other for the whole of our lives. But I am finally no longer in love. The man I loved I no longer know. We are currently strangers, and I find myself in love with our memories, but knowing I have changed so much that I couldn't be the person again I was when we were friends.

I spent such a good portion of this time period full of regret. I can't even feel that anymore. I learned so much from my mistakes, OUR mistakes, and I know I will NEVER repeat them. I will never again walk away out of fear. I know now the pain I can inflict. And most importantly, I have learned from all of this that not only is love real, but I can feel it, and I can feel it to such an extent that it almost left me bleeding on the side of the road.

This blog is laden with the songs I have written, words I have thought, the outpourings of my heart, all for this heavy year I sometimes barely got through.
I made it through. I didn't always believe I would. There was a light on the other end of the tunnel I clung too, and as much as it is bittersweet to move on from what moved me, it feels wonderful to be basking in the sunlight I found when I got out.

Deep down, I know this time that I have found the resolution to let the past be past, bygones be bygones, mistakes be lessons, and my heart heal.

Moving on, from here on out.

As Always

Jakob Dylan never ceases to hit the chords in my heart that I try to ignore.

"Smile When You Call Me That"

You're gonna say "I told you so"
I never should have let you go
Ain't it funny that here we are
The two of us in two different bars
In separate cages, dancing slow
We ain't got nobody to call our own
You can always go back home
Well you just might be there alone
Now I'm drunk, and you're insane
I can't quit, and you won't change
Ain't no half-hearted Romeo
Why do you treat me so?
Like our loves a joke
It hurts too much to laugh
Why can't you at least smile
When you call me that?
Days are harder than you would believe
Ain't having luck making ends meat
Time and money and luck I need
I'm richer than a poor man should be
Price of admission
Well it's much too steep
For broke uneducated clowns like me
It may be true I was first to leave
But now I'm begging you please
My hearts on my sleeve
And I'm tipping my hat
So can't you at least smile
When you call me that?
Not much is certain
But this much is true
My arms are useless if they don't have you
They hang around me with nothing to do
I'm hoping you and yours are lonesome too
Neon buzzing, and here I am
Last one standing, last call again
While you're unfolding in a stranger's hands
I'll drink up and be somebody's man
Angels can walk
I've seen it before
They turn handles, they open doors
They act like devils, now you've been warned
They vanish when love is war
I'm down on my knees
And you won't have me back
Why can't you at least smile
When you call me that?
I'm down on my knees
And you won't have me back
But can't you at least smile
When you call me that?

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Nostalgic Consequences

No time for the actions of a baby
Gotta take big steps backwards to where we were happy
We've settled the score with what you were searching for
And battled compromise all along the way
We're rewinding the tapes and starting over today

You have to cut off excess limbs even to fit in an irregular mold
Never dreaming it was your soul you sold
Little by little, and bit by bit
For a much cheaper price than we would like to admit
Read the fortune on the wall; the one that's making you sick

Fitting feet to cement footprints is only glamourized defeat
So many soldiers marching sideways, gaining nothing; incomplete
We cosmeticize mediocrity, claim to find beauty in the great inane
Nothing but jesters and village idiots dancing here
Winning in the short run, but we all lose the game

Be wary of the patterns; beatific and obscene
Sold yourself out for a face on the screen
Knowing all along it was never going to be the real thing
Because hobbies aren't dreams
Just a picture-within-picture of a much bigger scene

Leave Me Alone

You don't know me
Stop pretending that you do
Your senseless questions Mmake it all the more clear
That we're practically strangers

So stranger, leave me alone
Get on out of here, this isn't your home
You aren't welcome in this life of mine
Me and you we're just not the friendship kind

You don't know me, I don't like you
Your a clear plastic vessel with not much inside
But pebbles for brains and a watery soul
There's no heart to stem from
And no seeds to grow

So stranger, leave me alone
Get on out of here, this isn't your home
You aren't welcome in this life of mine
Me and you we're just not the friendship kind

Burns on top of burns
Leave only rancid scars
But you won't learn
I don't want you near me
Why won't you hear me?

So stranger, leave me alone
Get on out of here, this isn't your home
You aren't welcome in this life of mine
Me and you we're just not the friendship kind

It's really not me this time
Once again, it's you
Never really caring,
But you're always over-sharing
Nothing and no one can get through

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Finally

I never believed in love, until I fell for you
I thought it just a nice idea believed in by a fool
I know I needed space, I think I needed time
To exculpate my heart, imprisoned by my mind

I didn't tell you when it was most important to
But that didn't mean I wasn't heart-wrenchingly in love with you
I love you now and I loved you then
And I'm not giving up again
I love you now as deeply as I loved you then
And I won't run away again

You said it yourself--that they didn't understand
They didn't understand the connection we had
I underestimated it myself, then I thought it gone
Finding out now it was there all along.

Maybe I didn't tell you when it was most important to
But that didn't mean I wasn't crazy in love with you
I love you now maybe more than I loved you then
I will not give up again.
I love you now maybe deeper than I loved you then
I will not run away again

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Catch Me You Can't

The only one who caught me
Was quick to let me go
You can't catch me
I will not be trapped again
My eye is fixed on the door
You can't catch me

I have my own suit of armor
And it's shiny as can be
You can't catch me
I will fly far from here
Before you even grow wings
You can't catch me

My foot's stuck to the gas pedal
I disconnected the brake
You can't catch me
Got my hand caught in a bear trap
Chewed it off for my own sake
You can't catch me

I can turn it off
As fast as I can turn it on
You can't catch me
You think you're sneaking up on me
But blink and I'll be gone
You can't catch me

Monday, January 25, 2010

stream of thoughts

I remember the night we met clearly enough that if I close my eyes I can be there. The smell of the rainy night, the sound of tires on wet gravel echoing against metal walls in the industrial complex. I can still see the tattered brown couches in the first room I walked into. I can still hear the sound of my shoes on the linoleum. I can still see the people, a bunch of drunk kids because no one was carding, red plastic cups in everyone's hands.
I didn't register him then, but I remembered. I remember what I was wearing, because that is what sparked our first ever exchange of words. He told me he liked my shirt--hand-painted New York Dolls shirt I had made--and handed me a flier for his band. I didn't register him then, but I remembered.
When you meet someone you never know where your path will go. When we met 5 years ago I never would have imagined that 4 years later we'd become friends. That soon after that we'd be best friends. I couldn't have begun to comprehend that I would ever spend a year missing him with the heart I didn't know I had.

I never let people in. This is why he was such a devastating loss. Because I know what I had, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that again. I live somewhat outside of myself. I can float away from myself and marvel at the exhibit of it all. The fact I loved him so much fascinates me and intrigues me because it was an isolated incident. The whole lovely mess is carrion on the side of the road and I can't help but want to poke it with a stick.
Now that I have slipped back to a mostly emotionally isolated existence it seems even stranger that those months in 2008 existed. And that I spent the first half of 2009 in shards. Really? That was me? I did that? WE did that? How very alien, how very strange.

I am finally at a place where I am okay. Therefore I am completely torn, and I don't know what to do. I'm at a point now where the past is far away enough that I am happy again. I don't cry about it so much. I miss him now more because I know how much we loved each other, and not because everything reminds me of him. There were months where everything was a sharp painful reminder of something we had shared. Now the memories come in a slower trickle, dull and fuzzy.
Do I want to take a knife and slice into every single wound that has scabbed over? That is quite likely what I will be doing. Do I want to open up every single cut that festered for so long with disease now that they have finally, FINALLY, begun to look like my skin again? I'm scared. I'm honestly really scared. I don't want to go back to that place. I don't want to be where I was last February, not talking to anyone I knew for a month, turning off my cell phone for weeks. I am so afraid that that will happen again.

I still miss him. I miss him every damn day. But maybe that is how things should be. We all lose people, we all get broken hearts. We have to heal, we have to get over it. Maybe I am spoiled by the fact that we both want to be friends again. I have a choice, a choice that others don't. It wasn't a break-up, there was no ultimatum given to me. I was never told to stay away. I have the luxury of taking it back. I have apologized for telling him we could no longer be friends. I have told him how much I miss him. He told me everything was forgotten, forgiven, and water under the bridge.
I can have something back. Maybe not the relationship we had, because I can't imagine he could fully trust me again. But we could have some sort of rendition of who we were a year ago.
I just don't know if I want it. I don't know if can handle it. If I loved him once so deeply that I couldn't be around him, to try again could be opening a can of deadly worms.
If I didn't miss him so much every day it wouldn't be an issue. If I didn't still get tears in my eyes when I think of stuff we did I could easily dismiss him.

I have to make up my mind. We are down to the nitty-gritty. End of the wire. Time to play referee in my life and make a call. Play ball? Or chalk it up to experiences, try to separate the good times and keep them safe, and let it all lay where it lies, in the past?


I miss my best friend. But I don't miss the freshly broken heart.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

To try or not to try...

"...There's too many people you used to know
They see you coming, they see you go

They know your secrets, and you know theirs

This town is crazy; nobody cares


Baby you're lost

Baby you're lost
Baby you're a lost cause..."


One of my best friends tells me I've gotten soft.
I started to brush the comment off my shoulder but quickly realized it's true.
I've gotten fucking soft. A year ago I would have chalked it up to just another disappointing person who doesn't really disappoint me because I give no one expectations that they can't merely step over. My expectations for people are not the high walls others build for them. I expect very little because I have learned that "very little" is just about what most people will give you in the end.

2009 saw in me many radical changes. For one, in February I "forgave" one of my friends who fucked me over. I even told her at the time that I never forgave people, but after her apologizing for weeks I decided I would give it a try, take a gander at something new.
A week ago this same person told me to lose her number, and to never speak to her again.
I know I did nothing wrong, so that isn't even the issue.
But I have spent the past week in a state of melancholy that is new to me. The problem with letting your walls crumble is that they lose their protective elements. I'm not Hans Christian Anderson's Dutch kid, and I don't have enough fingers to plug all the holes appearing in the dikes. There's a a flood coming in, I want to stop it but am clueless as to how.

I'm still more resilient, cold, and elusive than probably 90 percent of people. But the mere fact that a relationship, friendship, etc can effect me in any way is cause for pause and a need to draw up blueprints to start rebuilding.
I don't like that so many people seem to be getting in. I don't like that anyone can call me "soft" even half-jokingly, because half-joking is still half-true.

I never even liked a guy until a year and a half ago. Then I fell so hard in love that I am still nursing the wounds. Ever since then it seems to be a downhill slope, and the shoes I'm wearing have no traction. I keep slipping, and sometimes falling. If this keeps up I will be just like the rest, constantly injured and waiting for the next to heal me.

This past week I learned the hard way some people do not deserve forgiveness. Problem is, some people do, and you won't know which is which until it is too late. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. If that is true, we should never ever forgive, because chances are someone will make a fool out of you. People are inevitably heartbreakers, disappointments, idiots, abandoners, etc. To spare ourselves it is easier to just never give a second chance.

Absentee Me

(started mid 2009--finished 2010)

Absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder
It makes it walk, it makes it wander
The further away you get the more I start to regret
The longer the distance between us
The more I'm thinking "Jesus, what am I doing?"
And we begin un-gluing

The more apart we are the more of your faults I see
And even tolerating you seems like insanity
Get us together and I can't stand the thought of distance
Apart from you I start loving my resistance
The more and more you slip from my head
The more pleasantly surprised I am to find I'm not better off dead

Absence doesn't get you anywhere with me
Just lots of time to realize you were the cause of my ennui
Your silence only breeds my contempt
Thanks for disappearing ; it seems so heaven-sent
For an innumerable amount of days you've been out of sight
Now finally you're out of mind.