Writing

…And some people change, others hang on until they can’t anymore…

I have a love/hate relationship with my writing. There are times when I can’t stand not writing, and then there are weeks or months where I won’t even bother to pick up a pen and come up with something. This has been one of those weeks. Not because I had nothing to say, but because it wasn’t the right time to say it. My thoughts sometimes need a few days to ferment, and to come to fruition. If I force that, I end up with bad writing and something I simply wish I never wrote. That being said, this last weekend Alison and I went to Seattle. We saw my favorite band, Floater, on Friday night. Of course they played an excellent show, and as is par for the course, I drank a little too much and poor Alison had to help me find the hotel later. I’m sure I could have found it, but it was nice having a sober person there. Ha! I remember asking her if she’d like to skip with me back to the hotel, and she declined. I was bummed. In fact, tonight as we were getting dye to change my hair color I offered

Continue reading…And some people change, others hang on until they can’t anymore…

And the days were long and the nights were bad… Time erased the dreams we had

It may just be the alcohol talking, but you’ll have to bear with me. I have a tendency to over think things, and when I’m drunk, my mind tends to wander much further than I usually allow it. I tend to keep it on a tight leash, otherwise. But occasionally, I give it free reign (scary, huh?). In quantum physics, and more specifically, quantum theory, we have equations that explain the existance of certain phenomenon and effects. We have equations that describe the movement of time, paradoxes, and the way that matter may simultaneously exist in two different states at the same time. The big bang theory explains the creation of the universe, and more to the point, the things that happened immediately after. There was an explosion of unimaginable power, and we suddenly had matter and anti-matter scattered for light years in every direction. In that instant, time and space and all the forces that make everything work properly in our reality had sprung in to action. But why? I know that that is the eternal question. It is such a basic and fundamental thing to say, “Why?”, that we all learned to do so almost as soon as

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One thing I know by now is that in the end, you can never swim in the same river twice

The most thrilling things we experience are often the most dangerous, or at least, the most terrifying. We need not risk life and limb to have a need for courage. Life is full of situations where we risk something much greater than our lives. We risk living with a mistake, and that, as far as I’m concerned, can be much more humbling than something as simple as death. As Tom Robbins said in, Another Roadside Attraction: Courage? You risked your life, but what else have you ever risked? Have you ever risked disapproval? Have you ever risked a belief? There’s nothing particularly courageous in risking one’s life. So you lose it. You go to your hero’s heaven and everything is milk and honey til the end of time, right? You get your reward and suffer no earthly consequences. That’s not courage. Real courage is risking something you have to keep on living with. Real courage is risking something that might force you to rethink your thoughts, and suffer change, and stretch consciousness. Real courage is risking one’s cliches.  Love is a lot like that. It takes courage, resiliance, and sometimes, it just isn’t very pretty. In the film, Look Back

Continue readingOne thing I know by now is that in the end, you can never swim in the same river twice

The stranger on the highway seems to show a desire to move on in one direction

I ran across some of my older writing… and when I say older, I mean very old. I don’t remember what time in my life I wrote these, but I’m guessing it’s right around 15 or 16 at the latest. Enjoy. Or don’t. Look Back in Anger If I could say one thing, It would be Do not burn the house down when you slam the door. The match you lit falls to the floor ignites carpeting and pictures, house and home, with all that that entails, memories, and bad taste are consumed by the air that the trees provide, but all you can do is walk quickly through the forest. That’s It And we stare forever at our clocks and calendars tracking time with our convenient numbers thanking God we can And we are defined by the dictionary of carbon based life forms destined to destroy themselves and everything from volume A to Z And I walk down the path that isn’t there and those who stick to the streets are hit by speeding cars and… and… and that’s it. How Many Steps? I know I’m depressed when I start questioning whether or not I really have to brush

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Let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings

Why is it that doing right is almost always the hardest thing to do? Why can’t the right thing also be the easy thing? This morning, I’m caught between what I know is right and what I actually want to do. I don’t want to make the phone call that I have to make, even though my ethics and morality require it of me. Sometimes I hate the fact that I’m principled. I have no doubt life would be easier if I could simply suspend my ethical objections about something… but that is what makes me who I am, right? It never feels like I’m doing right, even when I know that I am. I imagine the reason for that is that when I’m doing the right thing, it feels like I’m losing. I feel like I’ve conceded defeat and now I’m only reveling in the eye of the storm, and waiting on the rest of the hurricane.

You quoted Ecclesiastes and you brought all our hope to its knees

Okay, kids. Story time. This story comes from aeons ago, when dinosaurs walked the Earth and… well, okay, so it was about ten years ago and I was in high school. It seems that it might have been longer than that, though. I’ve been telling a lot of stories about my friend Rob recently. I’m not sure why, really. Perhaps it’s partially because I miss him, or because I learned a lot from him and our friendship. You see, him and I used to get in to some fairly dicey situations together. Some have said that they’re surprised that Rob and I survived a great number of the things that we did. I wouldn’t say that we were stupid, but… okay, yeah, we were completely and utterly stupid. Though, I should explain a few things that were going on at the height of our stupidity, and that will give a bit of perspective. It was the summer of 1998. My mom, after battling with cancer for the previous two years, was on the last downward slide toward her death in 1999. I was 16, trying to deal with high school and my slipping grades, a full time job, maintaining a

Continue readingYou quoted Ecclesiastes and you brought all our hope to its knees

All we monsters are divinely born, our fingers pointed to heaven, we direct our scorn

In chaos theory, there is a phenomenon that has been established within just the last twenty or so years. It’s the idea of large scale failures of complex systems because of a single, smaller flaw. In other words, the old saying, “A castle is only as strong as its weakest point.” Within nuclear missile silos, they deal with something fairly similar, called “resonant yaw”. If a missile is even just slightly off during launch, or if it’s tilted on the pad, as it travels along it’s trajectory the missile will fall further and further away from its target. The problem becomes larger and larger until there’s a noticeable gap between the destination hoped for, and the actual destination it actually comes to. Don’t worry, I’m going somewhere with this. I’ve had a lot of people question me recently. They’ve been asking how I can write so much poetry about God and the like, when I don’t even believe in God. I can understand the confusion, but it surprises me that so few people consider that “God” is a shifting definition, depending on who you talk to. While it’s true that I don’t believe in a galactic super nanny, I do

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And all we see is outside our cages, the whole god damn world seems to fly

I’m writing this from an office on the 7th floor of the building that I work in. It’s nearing 10:30am, and I can see the city sprawled out below me and the sun glinting off of the river in the distance. I can see the freeway, a few bridges, and a good portion of downtown from where I’m sitting. A lot of people would kill to have a view like this from their home. I know I would. The many times that I’ve worked late here, I’ve sat transfixed and watched the twinkling lights of the city and the stars in the sky. It’s absolutely stunning, even in the day. But I find it fascinating that, after a little more than two years in this building downtown, I’ve somehow become immune to this same beautiful view. I don’t stop to admire it the way I used to, and that concerns me. I wouldn’t call it complacency or getting used to something. I suspect it’s something far darker and more worrisome: It’s that I just don’t care. I’ve stopped caring about how beautiful the view outside the window has become, and largely, it’s because I’m too busy to care. I work

Continue readingAnd all we see is outside our cages, the whole god damn world seems to fly

Light up, light up, as if you have a choice

Mountains out of hills a hill of silly and simple words, yet mountains hide behind them and I find myself reeling retreating and hiding from the landslide sure to follow and my heart spilled burdened with love regret tragedy and forgiveness bitterness and betrayal And still I hear I listen I find the echo of a forgotten voice left in the valley between the mountains and in the bitter winter fields

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