sometimes...

Sometimes people are beautiful,

and everyone but them can see it.

morning ramblings

One of the things I do like about waking early, is the way the morning illuminates things. Everything is glowing in this cool white light. I'm fond of the stillness in the house... the slow, deep breathing of my loves all tucked in their places. Every morning my heart explodes with gratitude... and I wish they knew how much I love them. The depths of it all. It's in those moments, I am equally glad to be awake, but wish I could crawl back into the cave of blankets and soak it in a bit longer.

It felt like 7am. There's a feeling in the air when the day is fresh and new. And it's a bit more silent when it's on a Saturday, and the majority are still asleep. The music playing from the coffee shop made it sound a bit like a film Mancini scored. I felt under-dressed, suddenly. As if on cue, there was the appropriate juxtaposition of drivers laying on their horns and the screeching of wheels and brakes. That moment where you're sort of waiting for that awful collision sound, but it never comes... just goes back to the early morning ambling along as though nothing ever happened.

singing to me in my sleep.

this song started playing like a soundtrack in my sleep. i woke up and wrote it all down this morning...

where's your gold?

keep looking off shore

and all your friends

you can't find anymore

all the waves

took 'em out to sea

all the colors

are starting to bleed

you won't drown

but you won't swim

and that old tide is coming in

to take away

a thousand sins

and sink all of these battle ships

show your face

when the sun is high

and the lines have burned their way

down from your eyes

and the sweat on your brow

cold and thick

the memories held there

you can't forget

you won't drown

but you won't swim

and that old tide is coming in

to take away

a thousand sins

and sink all of these battle ships

revealing

We've all got something.

I guess it's what we do with it. Whether or not we can acknowledge it. Whether or not we learn to manage it.

It could all be so very wonderful. It's got all the potential in the world to be such a delight... such a good story.

Instead, it's just a ____ fight.

Half of the time, I think the madness comes from the fact that we choose to be ungrateful spoiled little brats in adult bodies. Riding around on our high horse, playing a goddam victim with our arms full of double standards. Going home to our house of mirrors... our phones set on self-portrait... always asking, "how do I look? how do I feel?"

Unappreciative.

Spinning in circles pulling everyone who'll stick around into our self-absorbed orbit of

"Please, please me."

All the same, I wish I knew the antidote.

I'd take it.

And wait for it to absorb into the bloodstream.

Take a few moments to make amends and allow the healing to really begin.

And then just be at rest... while in motion.

My heart is in full swing.

And none of these "But, are you mine?" wonderings left.

None of this questioning my place in their hearts.

All of this doubt and mistrust.

of love...

of destiny...

of everyone...

of self...

of GOD...

all of this over-processing.

all of this thought.

my mind is ever-provoked to thinking and analysis.

Shadowboxing.

Waiting for the next blow.

tightly wound.

And so, these loose ends shouldn't be tied,

and i'm pulling them ever so slowly.

unraveling.

revealing.

every single night's a fight with my brain.

transmission.

everything hurts

aches

creaks.

like it's all haunted

and it's hard to explain.

i've never wished that i could just turn myself inside out

and empty this.

the nausea, the waste, the fears and the pain

emptied.

and i find myself going silent

because the able bodies

have deaf ears.

and so if i could find the words to pray

if i could find some sort of translation for the jumbled mess that is growing

growing

growing day by day,

the words dwindle down to

the simplest of pleas

"come through for me.

come through.

come through."

bled white.

i will own every word of this.

don't you go getting scared or let your judgements get the best of you

or me.

that heavy shadow was making impressions on my passenger seat as i drove.

telling me the same old kinds of things.

a little disoriented. a little out of context.

distortion at it's finest.

and you really believe your death will do the world a great service

but the sound of breaking hearts and tear-wrecked faces...

well, that just keeps you alive

alive with your breaking heart and tear wrecked face.

hooked up to the great machine.

as soon as i pull my body from the covers in the morning...

my mind is at the post

one footfall to the floor and with a shot it is off

like some great champion horse from the gates of the derby

and i, the jockey, still wet behind the ears

inexperienced rider saying...

"oh my god, just hold on."

and all the world flies past as if it's being yanked by the gods

the scenery on a treadmill

going far too fast

and inside of my mind it's all so real

so vivid

as real as the day is blue

and i can't quite come to terms with the facts of the matter

i remember when he'd say that i made him a hyperactive mess

i remember how it felt with the pet names

the songs and mixtapes

like it's all become shrouded in smoke

and it's nearly impossible to see the truth

but the words are building up like molecules of water behind the three gorges dam

and all of the emotions that have grown attached

and all of the memories

and really, i think it would be best if you just sat down in an easy chair

on an easy street

in a quiet part of town

and just listened to it spill from me

before the stars fall from my eyes forever

before the streams run red.

and move.

move for me this time.

act on my behalf this time.

fight for me.

before the stars fall from my eyes forever

before the streams run red.

before my heart is bled white.

cross it and hands on bibles

oaths and promises and pinky swears

i'll not break them.

but i'll speak the truth

before it breaks me.

the fourteenth day of june, in a place of madness.

what pretty little dolls we are

in our new blouses

buttoned to the very tip top.

so very old fashioned...

in order to go along with a new fashion

in front of a backdrop of sleaze.

eager girls gapingly insecure - pretending to be women

throwing themselves at all the passing men

with their batting lashes and the clever disguise of friend

confidant

pulsating goodness

when they are everything but.

and why are the lads so oblivious to the fact that they are ripe with nothing but disease

their hearts full of a cancer

seek and destroy.

it's us versus them.

but it really isn't, is it.

funny how life goes.

karma never quite pays out equally

hearts don't break evenly

and the good hearts have to fight to stay hopeful.

oh what a madly disappointing place.

wedding belles.

Tis the season...

Most of the weekends at the salon are steadily filling up with bridal party appointments.

It seems like at least once or twice a week, another lovely girl checks out at the front desk, and her stylist congratulates her on her recent engagement... or she books her last highlight before the Special Event Stylings for her big day. All of these girls with glistening eyes and glowing faces...

They come in all shapes... all sizes... all varieties of kinds of beauty... and every single one of them has a man who thinks she's the most beautiful woman alive. Every one of them has some romantic story and a ring of varying shapes and sizes and carats and colors gleaming from their left hand. Every one of them has a man who wants them to have their last name... who wants to do life with them, beyond a shadow of a doubt. This is the woman that someone cannot and will not be without.

And as overwhelming as things can be...

As crazy and hectic as the planning may become...

As stressed out as she might be...

It's all really quite beautiful and exciting.

You can see it in her eyes.

You can see it on her face.

Rosy cheeks. Every one of them.

They are adored women.

there is so much I want to accomplish and achieve. So much I want to see and learn to be.

But, I've always wanted this.

And I sometimes find myself tearing up wondering what it's like...

Wondering when that will be me?

think pink.

i'm gonna have to say... this is real cute.

you know, those moments...

So many things to say...

but it's too early to say anything just yet.

My heart is so full of thanksgiving.

I will say that i'm feeling quite restless...

but i'm learning to be content in all of this.

Trying to make a habit of finding the bright side, you know?

AND learning to embrace myself a little.

A friend of mine had some really wonderful things to say about me, the other day. i think when people say kind things to me, i literally take a few moments to etch it in my heart someplace... and i'll never forget them. ever. so, i was thanking this friend for the kind words and things and he simply says -

"those words mean nothing if you don't believe them."

baby stache bash.

distraction of the day:

selleck baby




one of the best things i've ever seen. still.


i can't even...

these things i can't explain.

years of laments poured out.

countless tears wept...

bitterly.

wept faithfully.

wept without control.

without consolation.

begging for your hand to move.

for your words to be heard.

interminable darkness looming and threatening.

clinging to the invisible repetitions

on the end of every stanza...

do not be afraid.

and every space the weight of the word

wait.

and we resigned ourselves to the rhythms of the days.

the seemingly endless

seemingly hopeless days merging with nights merging with days...

and time has flown

and yet crawled by.

like a man limping, each step with searing pain.

and you remember the longing that will not fade away.

and you offer your bit of courage and your last bit of faith

mustard seed telling the mountain to move out of the way.

and these things i can't explain...

the moment when you think you've gone stark raving mad

obviously seeing things...

because you could swear that there is color creeping into the sky

but to be tricked into false hope...

well, you'd much rather die.

but assuredly it spread and the wings could be heard

the wings of the morning.

and it's undeniable now, the delicious palette of the morning star

and the answers are coming softly

all in plain sight

more beautiful than your anxious head could've ever pictured it

the dream coming true

the desire fulfilling

the hope rising

the prayers answered

the weight lifting

muscles easing

and suddenly you're trembling, almost terrified to believe

afraid it's all a mirage

afraid you've been had

and it sinks in...

sinks slowly down

and all you can do is weep.

weep with thanksgiving

out of the deepest gratitude

and you cry harder than you did when it all began

because these things i can't explain.

because...

redemption.

forget the horror here.

my heart feels like it weighs a couple thousand pounds.

even my mind is heavy.

like being stranded.

everything is changing in every place.

there is no rest just struggle.

fight.

fight.

fight.

i just want to let my guard down.

i just want to talk it out.

i just want resolution.

i've never hated anything more in my life.

____ the eggshells.

____ the loneliness.

____ the feeling of inadequacy.

things cannot stay the same.

i cannot feel this or be this anymore.