Wednesday, October 24, 2012


When it all comes together...

The weight of my body on hers, the swerve of the love in hers, the cold hands anchoring themselves around my arms, my back and shoulders, my hands pawing at every bit of her I can grasp...

The scents of the warm aura and the moist creases of the lower neck, the shoulders, inside the elbow, the chest...

Softly taking flesh between teeth with appreciation of the color and the taste of flushed skin and hushed whispers...

Grabbing hold of hips and fingers gripping curves that flex with every turn and slide, exhales in the darkness, smiling in relieving ecstasy, tasting sweat, sliding fingers through hair, making a fist, pulling back, licking freckles...

Taunts and pleas and mewing in the moonlight, under over covers, damp sheets and pillows stamped with our sweat...

Gripping and pulling, spinning and pushing, skin heating, blanket clenching, perspiration collecting in curves, blank thoughts and blissful prayers, envious neighbors...

Promises, deep inside, claiming, marking, imagining, fulfilling, letting go, filling...


The afterglow, the glaze, the slowing, the world slowly coming back into view, the cars outside the 3rd floor window, the people, the music, the lights, and how it's all unconcerned with us in these tall, tall walls of secrecy and safety...

When it all comes together...

"...there is no one like us."


Saturday, October 20, 2012


"I want to shoot technology in the face."

[laughs] In the face?

"In it's stupid, smug...


"...smug, cyclical face."

You realize you'd be shooting it with technology.

"No I wouldn't. I'd shoot it with fire."

So you want to shoot Technology in it's smug, cyclical face with fire.

"Yes. I hate it."

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Exhale, These Static Romances

This moonlit chill in my chest fills my head with doubts and my breath with fog. All of these broken playgrounds of swing-set hearts... it’s all just... rusted. Everyone’s made of recycled air.

Every girl is a fallen star collection; a pixie, imperfect. Warm hearts and frozen fingers are the order of the evening - every evening - until 5:47 a.m., when heavy lids take the place of weary souls and emotion invincible. The most important moments that govern our lives always seem to take place in our absence. And that itself fuels our fear of slumber.

So much can be lost through gallons of apathy and yet so much can be avoided: White knuckles and crumbling plaster, living quick and dying faster. We’re all just static romances. With fluorescent hums in place of hopes, replacing dreams...colliding perpetually in cathode rays of light, being watched by someone else; Someone far grander than we can conceive.

He must be watching - but laughing -at all this poetic numbness.


Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Princess Pillow and the Story of How the Earth Was Created

Are you tucked in? 


Lights off?

"Just the one above my bed is on."



Okay. Close your eyes and just listen. Relax.


Once upon a time there was a princess named Pillow...

"Why Pillow?"

Because when the queen was giving birth she just looked at the closest thing to her and named her daughter that and she was very tired and stop interrupting my story go to sleep.

[laughs] "Okay."

Okay... Once upon a time there was a princess named Pillow. And she was very fat.

"Oh, God."

Hey, this will have feminist undertones, so you'll appreciate it. Close your eyes.

"Oh boy."

Now Pillow was a fat girl. And all the girls at her school told her that if she wanted to find a boy, she should be skinny and pretty like they are. But no matter how hard Pillow tried, she couldn't get skinny. So instead of being made fun of by everyone, she just went around ate all the pretty boys.

"This is ridiculous."

Look, do you want me to hang up and you can tell yourself a bedtime story? 'Cause you won't have my voice and this story is about to get awesome.

[laughs again] "No, no. Continue."

Alright. Close your eyes and relax. Just imagine what I'm saying.

"Who is going to do the drawings for this book of yours?"

Picasso will illustrate.

"And who will do the soundtrack? Hall and Oates?"

That's for people over the age of 45.


That's for people under the age of 15.

"But I like...


"Okay. Go on."

So Pillow just went around eating all the pretty boys and any girl who made fun of her. And all the halls and all the oats and every black-eyed peas in the world. All that was left was ugly boys, nice girls, and good music.This made her bigger and bigger and fatter and more swollen than ever before. 


That was just for you.

"I know."

Keep your eyes closed.

Now Pillow was so fat, that she didn't know what to do with herself. She was all alone, and all the skinny girls were telling her she should stop eating people. They told her that she should try to diet and exercise not because she would be prettier - she was already beautiful inside - but because it would make her healthier. And being healthy is always better. So Pillow decided it was time to start living right. She start dieting and running. She ran a mile in 40 minutes, then 20, then 14, and then she got it down to a 7 minute mile. Which is pretty good. But then one day she ran so much that at the end, she was so exhausted that she threw up. And she threw up all the pretty boys and mean girls all over again. 

"This isn't helping."

I'm making this up on the fly, here.

[chuckles] "I can tell."

So then the princess looked up at the narrator and said this premise is pretty fucking thin. 'I know,' replied the narrator. 'Then let's start wrapping this up and bringing it together somehow. I'm tired of being fat.' 'Alright, chill the fuck out. I got this,' said the narrator.

"I bet you do."

I do. Close your eyes.


By this time, since nice pretty girls don't exist, Pillow created a reality where boys actually had more choices than girls did in relationships. No longer could girls go around picking and choosing boys on a whim while leaving the ugly boys to wither away in a dive bar somewhere. But the universe couldn't handle such a dynamic. The thread of the space-time continuum were being shredded apart, all because Pillow had a weight and ego problem. 
So Pillow decided to just eat the entire world. Ugly boys, pretty boys, skinny girls, nice girls and all. She just ate the entire world. In one gulp. And soon, she was just floating in space. How did she survive? Well, she ate the atmosphere, too, which gave her enough oxygen to live on for a few hundred years. Which was just enough time she needed to flutter away to an alien planet.
At the alien planet, she was greeted by more girls. And they never made fun of her weight. But she noticed there were no boys. The girls pointed to the sky at another planet; a planet of all boys. On this planet, shit got done. Things got built. There were socks lying around everywhere, and entire holidays were dedicated to Call of Duty and Buffalo Wild Wings, but it functioned. It didn't smell as pretty as the girl planet, but it was less dramatic. 
Pillow knew what she had to do. With her last breath, she ate both the girl world and the boy world, swirled them together in her mouth, made one single planet, and spit it out into space. There, as she floated away, she saw a planet with boys and girls of all sizes, shapes, weights, heights, colors and beliefs, and they were all getting along. She cried seven big tears - which made seven great oceans. 
And as she floated away into the sun, she tried to name the planet. But her mouth was full of chocolate covered gummy bears and all that came out was, "Urf." And the people heard "Earth." And when she floated into the sun, she exploded.
 And that's where solar flares come from.

You awake?

[yawns] "Mmm... I love your voice."


"It's comforting. Makes me sleepy."

Yours, too.

"Goodnight, Red."

And the princess finally, mercifully, peacefully fell asleep.  
The end. 
Sweet dreams, Blue.


Thursday, October 11, 2012

The Mayonnaise Jar and the Two Beers.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full.. The students responded with a unanimous 'yes.'

The professor then produced two Beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand.The students laughed..

"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things - your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions - and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car... The sand is everything else: the small stuff.

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you."

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.


Sunday, October 7, 2012

Less than four.

There's not much left you can say when you're soul is no longer whole. You can find esoteric words to use, but none of them hold meaning or can come close to accurately defining the depths of you.

Some people are drawn to brilliance and will chase it endlessly; like a naive moth fluttering around life's porch light in a futile attempt to catch... something. Who knows? Its own agenda.

Other people respond to bitterness, and will only react to the negative in life. They crave friction. The good things may be cautiously accepted, but it's the dark that truly stirs their mental tanks. And then they wonder why it keeps reoccurring, never realizing that just by reacting to the negative, it positively reinforces the cycle.

I'm broken. But, like a boulder that's been obliterated by dynamite, I still exist, even if half of me has disappeared into dust. The rest of me resides in little pieces - never to be whole again - for everyone who knows me to pick up their own special fragment of what I mean to them. No one I know in my life has ever seen me whole, but everyone's got a piece of me in their pocket to keep. They freely take it with them via memories, and I freely let them have it.

But not you...

I wanted you to see me put together again. I wanted to be whole with you. To be something - someone - you could lean on. To give you shade during those especially tough days. To protect you when you needed someone to hide behind. To stand on when you wanted a better view of the world. And to always be there when you needed me, and you would always know where to look and find me.

But you just stood and lit another fuse.

And walked away.