Life. Love. Laughter.

Monday, September 22, 2008

And they dance the cosmic dance...

In his room is a green street sign. It’s reflective nature shimmers light and spells out its name. Liberty points towards a flame he just lit. It smells of orchids and lilies. It casts shadows upon the ceiling and makes odd flickering dark shapes. Liberty dances with these shapes. The silent ceiling fan does not move, but a small breeze comes from the plug in electric fan near the window. Turning on the ceiling fan turns on the lights. The two go hand in hand. The flame is too soothing. The darkness of night is best lit by fire. These shapes dance to techno beats. His ears are drowned with transcending music that takes him away. His mind focuses and expands on the past, the future, and the present. It seems all uncertain and shifting.

The song goes:
It feels cold inside
Time stood still the day you walked away
Life will never be the same

Time and space, and he realize he has become who he vowed never to be. He figures we’re all floating through space across time. We’re in constant flux, but held down by our own past, which cannot be forsaken. Reflected back at him are two green lights. They’re from his laptop, which is off. Still it charges ready to power up and work. It is on standby. Shifting with the darkness, dancing with the flame. They’re the eyes of a tiger, now a wolf, or a bear. They pierce the darkness. There lurks an animal out there in the darkness looking back at him. It is too dark to tell, but it stares unblinking. Like two stars in the night sky, they’re emerald gems and sapphire rubies. They twinkle and fade, bright and dim, but not in and out. The music drowns out his thoughts and again he’s floating through space and across time. Lost in his own thoughts, drowning in his desires and fears, he drifts to sleep thinking of hope and despair. Someday he’ll know the answer. Someday he’ll know if he erred or, hope upon hope, he’ll be forgiven.

Friday, August 8, 2008

There is a familiarity in recognition.

I cannot remember.

It is not by chance. That much I can establish. It's in the eyes. Whether by sparkle speckle or a twitch, there existed a finite residual feeling. I have met this person before. Was it in a past life? Was it on some distant planet? Where was it that our souls entered and occupied the same space? On the war field of Gettysburg, did your bayonet happen upon my chest? Did it pierce my lungs, and I fell gasping for air?

...breathless...

The tragedy is that it may have been trickery. The light waves and particles bouncing reflecting and absorbing and penetrating - shadowy figures in a mirage. Like a Siren to a sailor at sea, the Oasis of false hope can lure dessert rats to doom destruction and dehydration. The space between the space that lives in time. Maybe that is to blame. Then again one might as well blame the darkness within. Perhaps there the lonely voice longed for and so wanting thinking wishing breathing...

... life into familiarity...

In all actuality, maybe I was wrong. I tend so often to be that being right is unreal. Like an abducted of a UFO or a witness to a miracle, explanations simply do not capture the being there. How can a man, blinded by fire, make it down a mountain every really explain his experience? We're merely vessels...

...for words...

like familiarity and recognition resides in the mind. (My crazy crazy mind... likely). So goes the story of the only sane man in an insane world. Now behold...

...The 10 Commandments on How to Pick Up on a Girl at a local Bookstore Cafe...

1. Thou shall not under false pretenses go to the bookstore cafe to study knowing full well no studying shall take place.
2. There shall be no purchases of lattes whatsoever.
3. An open book is not an invitation. An open book says it all there in text.
4. Laptops shall not be prohibited. Leave the soft-core at home.
5. Thou shall not take a break longer than thy actual studying time, which does not include those interrupted minutes spent on the phone talking or text messaging.
6. Just because you recognize someone, does not mean they recognize you. Make your introductions genuinely.
7. Questions should have answers, but some answers need not be questioned. This is not an interview, but be open to in depth research.
8. Silence your phone. Only pick up if it is mom calling.
9. Know the rules so that you can break them. That goes, break only the rules you can get away with breaking.
10. If at any point you feel the need to make a point followed by a ridiculous list (be it a practical & functional list) - refrain resist and than submit and do so as quickly as possible. Then get back to supposed studying. Studying gets the girls so get on it!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Casting Light on The Dark Night.

It had to happen sooner or later...

Waiting for a phone call is at best a thing of hope... like all things... I would imagine. The anticipation of the dawn keeps you at the edge of your seat. It's funny how waking up with a smile can change your whole outlook for the day. It's amazing how one phone call can change it forever.

...this whole moving on thing...

I'm resistant. I find myself happy in my own world, trapped by my own mind. I convince myself that I am fine, that this is how things are suppose to be. That hurting... especially this bad, is meant to... because otherwise it never meant anything.... but the hurt doesn't last forever. Nothing does. If your absolutely lucky... maybe... maybe it does. That's the rarity of it.

...you just know you're not going to be the same...

Love is like Life I figure. It's unpredictable at times, it's constantly changing and moving, but there's beauty in peace and chaos, and it's like a grand opera or ballet rich in subtleties and you can get lost in it. My humor is unpredictable... the Laughter comes from the realization of incongruities in Life in Love. (Like telling me to be free to be... just be it in a normal way... like what's normal? and is that really free? with conditions and all huh?...sure thanks for understanding).

...because a part of you was left behind...

That part when you said let's talk, so naturally I assume and listen as well. There was talking, but only on your part. I, my assumption proved false. So I detach...

That's not it though. I let a part stay behind, it's just the rest of me has moved on. The times they are a changing... like a rolling stone.

...your only hope is that you did the most minimum amount of damage possible...

That's all really. If I have contributed anything to the world, then I hope it's not damaging it for the worst. I'm not an agent of chaos, though I see it's fundamental with change. It's just that yes, things are not perfect... but I believe they can be. It's not a social delusion as much as a social dream. So yeah I can be... normal even... whatever that is. And yeah, I might be a freak too but there's a line you do not cross. There's this natural balance.

Between the white night and the dark night, there stood a man.

In the end, he realize that moving on didn't mean giving up.

All smiles..

I had a good time last night. I was resistant to allowing myself the enjoyments of youth. I let my mood dictate my course of action as oppose to just letting loose. Mind you, that I was a stiff, self-consciously & utter-ably out of place, but nevertheless once decidedly wanting to make the best of impressions, I sucked up my pride and self-dignity, what little I had left, and... I just went with it.

Some words to describe the night: mesmerizing, captivating, and all smiles.

Just go with it...

So obviously I was out of my element. I was playing on unfamiliar turf, but step it up to my court, and my arena... maybe the tables should turn a bit. A bit of a challenge and a request... I dare say it's worth it.

Friday, July 18, 2008

We held hands...

Underneath a table, side by side, my hand found yours. I played with your fingers and then eased them, yours and mine between each other. You gripped my hand, and I knew you weren't going to let go. Not now, not ever. We we made eye contact what was brief to anyone who noticed, but was an eternity for us. You slightly smiled and turned your attention towards our friends. It's been long since I've seen everyone, it's been long since I've seen you... but my feelings remain the same...

This conjured image so warm, based on life, and based in dreams...

I awaken. A lot can change in ten years. You might not even recognize me anymore.

I've been sick all week.

Maybe it's the air quality, though in truth, I was careless Monday. The extreme temperature between A/C and non A/C environments couldn't have helped any. Not drinking enough water doesn't help either. Drinking hella alcohol doesn't help either... seems like poor choices for a supposedly grown man.

"I may grow old, but I refuse to grow up"

So someone once said.

I still dream. Somewhere I got the idea that growing up would be like not dreaming anymore. Like waking up to the cold hard reality of it. Life just takes hold... and you stop dreaming. I wasn't far off... I hadn't dreamt in ages... I mean really dream. The longing wishing dreaming if there was an African Goddess in heaven type of dream... shit if this was how life worked out to be... I'd have you now. You'd have me..., but then I guess that might be a nightmare huh... depends on perspective. :/ yeah... changing subjects.

I'm going to die.

Not in the immediate future if I can hep it. But in all likelihood, the odds are set against me. I'm okay with mortality, but you question the necessity of the finite if what we have ahead of us... you know where we go after... if that's infinite, why the finite? Trial & error, test & judgment. Hell I'm screwed to begin with if life's one big exam. I'm a lousy test taker... and than the whole life is one exam after another takes on a whole new scale of meaning. St. Peter and his keys to the pearly gates, and Cerberus and his three sets of piercing eyes... doomed.

Then there's the other theory... the life is infinite theory... that the cycle continues and on and on with no end... your only escape is dying as an innocent a thousand times over. Which means for the ilk that is my kind, being born a badass wins me a ticket to eternity's-ville. Sorry, man, you're shit out of luck. Questionable, many of those close to me would roll their eyes at my claim to the badass category... yeah you're a real badass alright... but I'm saying... I don't worship evil... there's just this appeal... like a completeness that otherwise defaces our value. homo superior - that is man, is not without the light and the dark. Considering our roots... murder, rape and the various incarnations of said sins a thousand times over and you get the picture. Granted man doesn't go around raping and pillaging villages as much anymore (O_O yeah as much) and we're all cultured and civilized thank Jeebus... but we do it in otherwise. We kill each others time, we kill people's dreams, we destroy identities, we steal it, we rape it. It's far removed from before... but it's still there.

Consider Man. Today's man. He's far removed as well. No longer is he tied to just finding the means of surviving... hunting and gathering... we have evolved and so has our passions for destruction. Enlightenment is fooling us into thinking we can hide the shadows at our backs... that there is no heart of darkness... I beg to differ. Accept it. There's two sides to the coin. (P.S. yeah I just saw Dark Night, and yes you should watch it.)

So there's this side to me that's light and then there's this darkness. I apart of me dreams of hopeful things, Another is all fatalistic. There's this infinite life or death or both and there's an exam.. so listen up. Enlightenment if a candle that attracts moths which you can kill for fun by plucking their wings and in which case you're going to rot in hell of be reincarnated as a moth who gets killed by having its wings pulled off... and then there's this headache... because I drink too much, all of which will probably if not now sooner, will eventually later kill me. Thank you and goodnight.

P.S.S: Dare to dream.

She taught me what a boredom boner was. She taught me what it meant to be imprisoned by love. Love... I loved her before I even knew what it was... There's love in the Light..., but there's also a darkness about it. Like our souls, like our hearts... there's no escape. Save but then in my innocence in which I knew it ass pure and as white as a thousand supernovas collapsing into itself. And all that energy released and loss and brought back into itself. Love gives endlessly, and I'm there left never the same again. Someday I will find you again... I will tell you how you changed my life for the better... that had you not bribed the fake sheriff to put me in fake jail, I'd never have this feeling that was so real. So I can't die... not yet, not into I see you again.

Monday, July 7, 2008

July 4th Weekend

9:00 AM. "You can't be serious."

Reading the caller ID, "Of course, who else would it be." My most impatient cousin, Stan, who whether by choice or lack of consideration holds the Can't Hardly Wait title. I had promised to take him & my other little cousins to the movies for the last several months. I hadn't delivered on Narnia, but now was a chance at redemption. This was Mr. Smith's trademark blockbuster weekend, and Hancock was sure to be a worthy contender in the July 4th movies. Surely it would not be like that Wild Wild West fiasco.

I spent most the day helping out with chores at home. That's right, that's how we do it... suffering is key to enlightenment they say... so I bit my lip and turned the cheek. Surprisingly, it was nice to help out. It's just the things that were said... ahhrgghh.... "Parents, they just don't understand. Right r. Smith?"

6:30 PM. "Are you coming."

"Yeah, I'm a little late. I have to eat dinner with my ma real quick. Twenty minutes, Stan."

7:45 PM. "We just missed it. Let's catch the 8:15 showing."

10:30ish PM. "Are you coming to the picnic tomorrow?"

July 5th: The Day after Independence Day

It was one of those rare good son day. They were common, almost taken for granted, when I was younger, but now those good son days are scarce. Maybe there's too much demand for it... maybe it was a scarce resource and now that it's depleted, supply is very very low. In any case, I enjoyed it mostly. It was almost what mother's day should have been like. Didn't really deliver than, but better late than never. The rest of the day was spent helping out, save but a brief escape to Barnes & Noble to "study". That attempt is best described with my lil' Emo cousin Anton's latest favorite catch phrase "Epic fail." I ended the night with a caffeine high which given one word to describe I'd chose. "Hell Yes!" Yeah, I know. :P

July 6th: Sunday Morning

I've awaken early as planned, but the household wasn't awake. I didn't know what stirred me, but I grabbed my Marvel Comic's Essential: Silver Surfer Vol.1

. As I'm reading, my brother awakens, and in a blur was off to... 'save the world?'... "didn't really catch that bro... what?"... and he's gone.

12:00 Noonish. I'm starving and waiting. The foods in front of me, but I can't eat. she's not here. I'm waiting on her again.

6:30ish PM. Golfing Range followed by dinner. Not having to wait with food in front of me, and cool mango ice tea... yummy. Extra tip: Learned her name.

9 something PM. I see my brother again. Knocked out on his bed. Hmm... "saving the world must be take a lot out of you"

Thus is the destiny of the Silver Surfer!

Sunday, June 29, 2008

It's in the little things you say...

They give you away. Your little thought processes, aren't you clever and sharp as a knife. How you cut me with you words and slice me with you concern. I know you care your very special way, so you open your mind, and how now I see so clearly what I mean to you. And how now how silly do I look to you.

It's those little daggers in your voice...

So I'm heartless. Because I move on and I runaway. Because I'm naturally the complete opposite of what you are. You stay and fight the good fight... I run and run... you're back and forth indecisive, and I'm what's done is done. I'm heartless because friends I got a lot of though, you're so much better than me because... oh wait, time, you wait Cal, you'll see. As if having one on the side is so much better, as if the second time is so much better... I'm not counting I'm not keeping score... I don't care any much anyway I'm already out the door.

It's how we speak without speaking...

Now it's not just you it's me. I take issue, and you're not letting up, and I'm bout giving up... there's now real exchange, the dialogue is what it is... cordial formality. I think you're about had enough, and maybe I'm being too tough... because that is what that is... two differing realities.