this morning vessel

so it's me. i lie here, tired, exhausted for rest. but my mind spins, on overdrive, algorithms that don't make sense. i pray, i babble. coo and coax my being into a lull. the clock ticks away to the beat of the electric current rushing through my surround. i note the time it takes for the automatic door to slide out. i'm always 15 mins too ahead of myself. i should stick my head into the fridge and fry it cold.

so it's the morning, I tell myself this grumpiness is just a cold car engine starting. it's ok, you will warm up. it's taken a beating for years and so have you. my thoughts turn into continuous spurts of conversation about what i have done in the last 24 hours. in the silence against the wind and the rain pelting against your windshield, i push my thoughts away and leave the silence to the space it wants.

the passing scene outside brings me back to last night at the chocolate place. where my surrogate brother from 4 years ago sits and shows and tells me stories from his adventures and the inspiration my heart felt. this wild soul is not done yet. we trade anecdotes, experiences and ideas and find common ground to rub shoulders. there was a shift in my heart as it fell out from my sleeve.

times are a changin. so they say, conventional wisdom, different seasons. vessels like us, where stories travel through. come. walk through me.

how do i begin

the thick volume that reeks like the old encyclopedia. how do i tell the story and point them in a succinct, lucid manner? i have these pieces of virtual post it notes stuck on the walls of my mind, sign posts that I will find useful later when the tapestry is ready to string these together. I feel like the editor sitting in the post production putting together the movie, Memento.

i stretched to flick the music over to Herbie Hancock and hopefully the New York Minute will give me some rhythm to kick this story writing into gear. I only have 10 minutes. How do I make it count?

inspire me.

dust and the damsel

the delight you see in your eyes, is the nemesis like popsicles on sticks. you see, the room gets bigger with each hour of absence. how do i explain this? the dust is collecting on every untouched furniture and soon, the movies won't be playable. it's the same dejavu feeling. like the knife that cuts deep should cut deep now. i can hear the rumble and the ticking of machines keeping this life source chugging like an old overworked train. i feel like shouting because they fall on deaf ears. how can i not let my emotions get the better of me? when you're not around, the emptiness amplifies. will you start this odd year again, with my mouth gagged when the people ask and seek? will my loneliness drive me to this death floor? for i am convinced more than what you are trying to undo, that i am not wanted. that it doesn't matter. that the magic cards you easily parted with, is the way you would flush me down this pipe so we can drown out this inconvenient emotional wreck, so you can sail into the sunset. like i said, different shovel, same shit. will i bite the dust tonight?

the sun is out

even for a little while, to shine upon the gloom of this wet weather program, i saw the dew and the glister like the twinkle in your eye that makes me come alive, feel that everything is all right. some kindred spirit. some kind of love that makes me better for it.

press here

there are a million thoughts swimming right outside these walls, waiting to find their home and seal the deed sign on the dotted line. sigh. i don't know what light this be, that flickers in the night, keeping my heart pounding and restless. i'm hungry and broken. these pictures drive a deeper disappointment with myself. that i am missing the boat again. late to the game, still waiting.

whatever happened to the wild soul inside? the cares of this world and the need to salvage the unploughed landscape has made for the perfect distraction. now we're all old and sepia in tone, waiting for the archive box to arrive. where but where, be my fellow nomads who circle the horizon, surveying and lost as I am?

i'm looking for jesus in all the wrong places, in all the wrong people. where is love and what happened to this year's affection? we've all grown cold in our selfish desires. and we've grown nonchalant with the state we're in. we're blind, deaf, shafted and happy.

so as an afterthought, i tell myself i have to live on, pull all my bases and stay in belief. even when all love and consideration has been used up and drained by the ones closest to your heart and soul.

thing is, i would do anything. anything at all. but maybe the time is not right. will the picture still be that of a widow waiting for the walls to crumble?