la la la la take me home

my two dogs are ashes. one inside a wooden box carved by a Tibetan monk, the other a hand blown  black urn, her  name is embossed in gold. they were big dogs and you wouldn't believe the weight of these things. i guess everything , even the slightest whisper, even ashes- have weight.

I plan on doing a bit of  traveling, minor explorations and hedonistic adventures. As much as id like to i can't commit to getting more fur friends just yet. So for now, I volunteered at the local Tri-county animal shelter. It's a No-Kill shelter. The dogs don't just sit sad-eyed in cages all day waiting to get adopted. there are many great volunteers and they help train, walk,  give millions of pets, brush, and  play with all the "guests" as much as possible. The shelter is situated on a few gated acres so the dogs can run loose for exercise too. Some of these dogs are amazing. Two of them were adopted in just my short time there. It's pretty great seeing that, especially when an older dog get a home. Its what the No-kill shelter is about.

Home is wherever I'm with you - don't you know? I have difficulty having to put them back in the caged pens after i hang it with them. Id like to take them all home. I imagine them all having homes. each one, the older ones, the puppies. I visualize it. I send it out to the universe. Even thoughts. Everything has weight.            

And when your fears subside And shadows still remain

1.     Ive been throwing things around more since August, less sleep, clenching my jaw, balling my fists. bad dreams. everything. anything. Since august. since my Dallas Cowboys took the field and started losing game after game after game, then injuries, and more losses. they fire the head coach, good. Win one. I'm elated this week. I'm different. I shouldn't care this much, i always say this. but i do,  and i know there is some sweetness in losing. feeling lost, feeling alone, feeling sunken. You cant touch me here, you cant reach me in this place.  The pain of losing, the feeling of being down, i have found it lasts far longer then the feeling of winning. the feeling you get from getting what you want-is never as good as you think and it never lasts. Its the journey from below..that is the sweetness.

I learned to lose, early. It was like learning to swim. At first its scary and you don't like it. But then, you kick and fight your way to the surface and breathe. Just fucking breathe.
I was 7 and on my first soccer team, Mcdonalds. we had a big corporate sponsor. (really, the coach owned a franchise) our colors are famous: golden arches yellow (over one billion served). we have knee high tube socks with three golden stripes. Under the South Florida sun we look like mini french fries running around kicking a ball. I loved soccer and hated it. which is the way I learned to love things. All things. When we won a game we were rewarded with a team trip to Mcdonalds after wards. A treat since my Mother always cooked, We rarely if ever ate out. I can count on one hand how many times we ate fast-food. which is a good thing, i guess. but seemed cruel when you're 7. So, i tried very hard to win. I hated to lose. but we almost always lost. I had a total of 3 cheeseburgers, 89 fries, 2 soft serve ice-cream cones- a large COKE the entire season. we received a trophy at the end of the year in a ceremony where every team in the league got one. win or lose. an "everyone wins!" booby prize. a losers prize.  a trophy for last place? I looked at it and on the ride home i was silent. I walked straight to my room, closed the door and  threw the trophy in my tin Dallas Cowboys trash can. I cried for 2 hours. It was the best i felt all year. 

2.   Be consistent. don't try to be perfect. just write. write more and write anything. be consistent. write because you have to, because you hate it and because you can't stop. bleed because there is no other way. this isn't what you love,  school isn't what you love, you're job it isn't what you love. what do you love? Stop writing with your heart. for just once, let this not be about her.

photos:
goodwinter
ohashleylove (flickr)

blind

the rain cleared . clouds puffy with gray middles. I take a walk along the bike path near my house. towering power lines, trees, a lake, dog shit. industry and nature. I wonder if i could make it living up in the woods somewhere. maybe, i think, with a satellite dish and a store not more than 20 miles away. I worry if there is no hospital nearby. I worry there isn't someone to save my dog from a snake bite or to stitch a wound I might receive from a bear. the problem is i worry. I think. I finish the walk not having heard or seen a single thing.

Broken when I bought it

1. Making The Rules:
She is talking to me about mistakes and regrets.
And I don't think of them as one in the same. Everyone makes mistakes and regret is just the possible result of such mistake. Since mistakes are inevitable and unavoidable - Human. I ask her. "Doesn't that make regret just an illusion?" Isn't it more a feeling of guilt based on the making of a poor decision.
"But don't' you feel guilty or regret for anything ?" she asks. " "I don't"
Simply I chose to learn from mistakes with the knowing I will most likely make more. The real lesson is what have I learned? Just because mistakes are bound to be made, it doesn't make for an excuse to knowingly engage in something that is bad for you.

2. Giving Me A Try:
Are you the type of person to try anything once? Can you talk-yourself into believing in fate, that life is to short, that this could be your one and only chance. Do we have second chances?.
What if I miss the chance to touch her, to feel her, to know her, to love her.
She tells me there are no second chances.
I say " In another life then. That is where I will get to love you, to keep you." She half believes me, I can tell. She is the kind of person to try anything once.

3. I Like The Way You Are:
No one is innocent. Some people are kinder than others, but overall no one is much more special than anyone else. She tells me " You're not perfect and hardly as brilliant as you might think."
Once you realize this the burden of perfection is lifted. I asked her does she often dream of being with someone else other than me. "In bed?, of course and don't say you don't."
When she is feeling fragile she asks me if I think she is bad. If I think her thoughts are bad. That I don't understand how bad she is. This is really confession. A story for a story. Stories aren't bad. Thoughts aren't bad. I don't think in general anyone is really that bad. Forgivness. I can give her. I can make it okay again. I can open and close scars. "I can't put you back together, but when you are scared I can help you go to sleep"she tells me she liked it when her step-father used to touch her. She asked me if it was bad that she liked it. That nothing ever went to far, just he touched her, but she wished for more. In her room she would orgasm thinking about this. Sometimes she still did. It was dark and rainy out. She likes the lights off. I don't mind. Regret, mistakes, guilt. I tell her it doesn't fall into place there. It falls into place here.. and I point to her head, then trace my finger down to her breast, I run my hand over her nipple. It falls into place, here.. and I reach between her legs. "Is this how you felt? tell me, Is this how you feel?"
When she calls me Daddy, is that bad?

4. Dear xxxxx:
I am not perfect and not always nice. But I do learn, I do stumble, and I do, you know I do. I do fall. I move on, but I am not any less for having wanted to stay, not any less for the wanting something different. not now not ever. For the wait. For the every things we can not have. I am not asking. I am taking. I am stealing you, I have stolen you. I have written you alive and dead and here and there and for LIKE EVER.
I know that no-one is better than me and that is not ego. It is fact. Take all your new and improved versions of me. Those special snow-flakes. They melt like you- on my tongue. I won't burden you with you having to lie or impose vast expectations. Only that what you give me. What you give to me. Let it be fucking real. I will trust, until you show me different. until your actions say otherwise. Still even then, after goodbyes, after all or nothings and the little suicide attempts at closure. I will remember you fondly, knowing you are just like everyone else. Except. You are no longer in my world.

If the party is over why am I still finding glitter in my keyboard?

With the moon emerged,
My mind is motionless.
Sitting on this frosty seat,
No further dream of fame.
The forest, the mountain
Follow their ancient ways,
And through the long spring day,
Not even a shadow of a bird.

- Reizan (1411)

A box full of
candy colored plastic letters
spill over
b, c, f, g, in
red, yellow, green,
neon
blue
letters and letters
maybe a hundred or two
chaotic order
I try to place them in
pi
because that is how much I've
loved

squared

i form words
then sentences
and I know I brought this on myself
and I know
she is right
a song won't make
it better
and nothing
not words
not saying what I've already
said
again

again

sleep now
baby

the story
is over

Girls are not a game. Not one that you can win

Ash Wednesday. Chinese New Year. Take your pick. For me it's ashes ashes
we all fall down.

Cassandra lifted up her plaid skirt behind the oak tree for me. In 4th grade I thought I was given the answers to the universe. For one thing, I knew I would never be a priest.
She waited for me to make my move and then kissed me first. She told me I was a slow lover. I wasn't much of a lover at all.

I am still a better liar than lover. But I am trying.

things changed , like they always do. I'm not worried as much, I don't miss her as much, but I still lose a little sleep. I'm not looking for anything. But I know something will find me.

A really good comic book that ive read for a number of years came to end. Y: The Last Man.
Seems like all my favorite comic, turned graphic novels have ended. Sandman, Preacher and now Y. I am sure you'll see Y ruined as a major motion picture in the future.

My tooth is out. Blood pressure down in a matter of a week. Maybe the meds and a few new books I've been reading. Want to hear my new mantra for the year? Well, not really a mantra, more a philosphy put into practice " Every event that befalls me is absolutely the best possible event that could occur". It's from a Zen - art of happiness book I picked up at the library. Such a lively book coming from such a dreary little place. Books. Lonely like dogs in a rescue. Which reminds me of the Pedigree Dog food commericials that are running recently. They break my heart. I can't tell you how much they tear me open.

What helped get my BP down so the Dr. could finally extract my tooth was this: He gave me a script for some Xanax to take the night before and then an hour before the surgery. Seems I suffer from a little Doctor anxiety. who doesnt? He also gave me the laughing gas while in the chair too. I had my IPOD on and I have to say it turned out to be a delightful experience.

I am lying in bed tonight with no pain for the first time in over a week and half. No more Vicodin, No more fighting the tears back. Just real- sleep. Real dreams.
and my Heart torn apart by commercials with abandoned puppies.

The book works. The thing about everything that happens being the best thing that can possibly happen. It ends up being true.

I don't know where you and I will end up. But wherever it is, It will be for the best. I know that.

Cassandra. Her mouth tasted like Watermelon Bubble Yum. She kissed me cause I was scared to. But I kissed her back hard. Her panties were pink with a white bow in front. She told me not to tell anyone that she showed them to me.

We got ashes on our foreheads. Our school had it's own church. Stained Glass and a Jesus hanging on a cross. For lent I tried to give up touching myself. But that was to difficult so I gave up something else.

On Valentines day. I gave Cassandra the biggest and best card I could find. She didn't even thank me, but I saw her give something to Matt after school while she was waiting for her Mom to pick her up.
If I had a cupcake with a pink heart and rainbows drawn on it, I'd give it to her. She reminded me of sweet. My friend told me." Yeah, sweet evil,"

Nothing else matters when you are in love or when you are in pain.

I have trouble telling from the two.