a pretty girl so tired

Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond the grasp, but if you will sit down quietly, it may alight upon you.

-Nathaniel Hawthorne

the big kids would stand on the back bumper of the ice-cream truck. harass the poor old driver. One day he got fed up and pulled a shiny silver gun. I saw it. So I know it's true. Some kid went and told his Mom and the cops came. Eddy. Eddy the Ice-cream man, that's what we called him.

screw balls, push-up, astro pops, Italian ices. Eddy. Red faced, with veins in his nose. Always sweating. wet towel wrapped around his neck. He didn't seem to like kids to much. nickles and dimes and dirty pennies with the year 1977. I have my Smokey n the Bandit shirt on and a small transistor radio is strapped the handlebars of my bike. Eddy is in handcuffs. He is ushered past me. Hands behind his back. As he passes, he says to me I'm sorry kid.
Those damn kids. he mutters to himself.

cop is looking at the shiny gun. He clicks it and a bullet falls to the ground. One in the chamber! He yells to his partner. Everyone is outside their houses now. Even those who never buy ice-cream.

My ice-cream it's started melting all over my hand. Eddy's truck is parked in the grass by my house. The music is playing. Pop- goes- the weasel. over and over.

One cop yells to the other. Shut that racket!. The bigger kids started laughing. riding their bikes along side the cop car. Eddy in the back , his head lowered to his chest.

it's enough to make you crazy....the cop says.

and then she wanted a reason why

you say it a lot. you say it until your blue stars in the face. you say it and it's to late.

you write it and it makes no sense

you read it and it's

like some kind of dream

it's done. already? you stare at the night sky and wonder

where did the time go

wonder if you'll ever make it back home again.

It will be a long summer. July is going to be bright with explosions and light. Light fuse. Run away. The A\c is cranked I tend to stay inside. sometimes I'll go out for a run, or play my drums in the garage. one light bulb swinging from the ceiling. I pretend. I used to be good at that. pretending. I pretend I am in a band, that I am good. people think I'm good. I used to be good at pretending. not so much anymore. I try. I tried. I can say that.

so i told her that we would get married in October. I don't think it will be much cooler out, but it's my birthday and Halloween. She said that's all the time she'd give me otherwise i was taking to long. I think the costume thing is corny. candy corny.

sometimes you just have to listen. sometimes things are greater when you wait. sometimes not.

the thing is. I can't wait.
I didn't mean for it to end like this. that's what I always end up saying. but I think it's best.

i remember you best in winter. hands cold, cheeks red. I remember football season and making cupcakes. winter is when I've always loved you most. It's going to be fun. something about me. I'm going to warn you. Don't say i didn't. my love is tough but it's forever. no one will love you more.

you wanted this and honestly

I've been wanting it too.

let's just imitate the real until we find a better one

Good lies:
Enjoying this weather. Odd for South Florida. Windows open. I lit a Nag Champa incense stick and the cool air is catching the smoke and filling this entire room. It smells like books , church, wood, hippie fires at midnight, .... like burning.
So,
Mid 60's in April?. In South Florida?
"Well, enjoy it! " that's what everyone is saying. It will be the last cold air for awhile.
here come the hurricanes, here comes the fire-works, here come the good lies.

For like ever: felt weird. felt scary. feels like I should be with her. hear her. feel her. talk to her. forget her. It's just the weather, and I know it, but fuck. The darkness tells me different. Where I am still blind. It's all about the words and how they make me feel good. Safe. beautiful and crafted and mine, so mine. But again, I liked the days of hoody wearing, blankets and the arms wrapped around me from behind. And I like to touch her when she doesn't expect it. I would say it was in the kitchen but I don't remember. I know a girl wearing an apron excites me. So maybe there.

I am kind of grateful it didn't last enough for it to get boring. Skip through it all and save that part for someone else. the best chapters are the beginning and end. Save the wondering and wander back to me. Just a close your eyes and bite your bottom lip away. Just a "thank you". Like sunshine. Like the fucking moon-glow. Like for Ever. ago.

The sweetest tooth: Sometimes I want just to converge on the quiet. Pretend the real and then really pretend. If I kept my mouth shut would you come lay beside me? If you were addicted to something and you couldnt get that feeling from anything else. you know it's bad for you and all that. But the alive. But the chemicals. in the darkness you think you can get away with it. fight through it, minimal scarring, less words. just the high. Just what you do best. what we do best.

Hurt: where I am the sweetest tooth and you'd ask me something for the pain. You looked up to me, just because. and I have always, will always like you..just because.

maybe the words are more important to me than the relationships ever could be. people come and go, they kiss and tell secrets, lie and destroy empires. but the words endure. If Ive taught you nothing else. be careful with them. I send them into space. Send them back to the place where she found me, where I met her. In the instant of a key stroke, where just for the fuck of it. where just because .... I could love her and lose her again and again and again.

artwork:Yosuke Ueno
photo 3: apoetsdream

Watched: A beautiful, meaningful documentry:
INTO GREAT SILENCE This what you take from it. Don't ever watch this if it's not something you really want. To just try and be quiet. If you ever wanted to see inside yourself. Ever wanted to be still. 3 hours. no sound-track, no narration. only natural sounds, lighting and the simple diciplined daily life of Monks in the French Alps.