04/01 Direct Link
Though I'm an adult I'm relatively certain I'll never grow up. To a certain extent, I think that "adulthood" means that the person in question has shed their childhood idylls and accepted certain shades of gray that are neither ethical nor reasonable. That they don't enjoy the simple things in life. That things are supposed to be complicated. A year ago I wrote a piece about this particular attitude of contention.

Maybe all I'm saying is that, when someone taps you on the opposite shoulder and pretends like it wasn't them that did it, don't get all bent-out-of-shape--try and laugh.
04/02 Direct Link
Waking up someplace different is a blessing I'll never cease to appreciate, be it a new friend's sofa, the bed of a last-night drunken lover, a some-nights' stand. I just get tired of being in the same place every day, work, play, end up in the same situation I did yesterday. I particularly enjoy a balcony or a second-floor landing at eleven in the morning smoking in the same clothes and a mild malaise--a disconnect--that that reality I left behind in..
a brief abeyance of mind..
all sunshine and seven stories' worth of subsidized housing apartments and ashes, ground floor.
04/03 Direct Link
Two o'clock the cop knock wakin' me from dungeons and dragons dreams where I know magic still and can still fly, "WHAT?!!" Open up in a wife beater and boxers, "put on some pants." The rudest awakening. They find a pint can of Guinness and a lighter and write "contraband."

The grills're on high and my the wheelchair wife of a buddy of mine made some killer pasta and me, on the funk. Always on the funk, all horns and funk, 'til it dies down and ten rolls around and they tell me it's too loud. Others say it turned out.
04/04 Direct Link
I stayed up my hangover off and woke up feeling like about at least a million bucks and got up went to class fell asleep only once. Lunch. Work. Work out. Another day; dollar; lump of boredom projected; e-mail saying, "it's over, I can't take this anymore;" lighthearted freedom dig; plunge; stay up late 'til exhaustion; teddy bear clutch and fall into restless unrestfulness.

It's killing me—I can feel it—but will this death let others breathe easy? When it comes on I disbelieve but it's harder the harder it comes on. No faith, friends, or wealth ever call back.
04/05 Direct Link
Inspiration is a place I find myself during times of change, beauty, and sorrow. Texas is the reason—Texas is the reason—my soul stays home. There's not a single Chevy van for me here. Gimme that strong V8 and rear wheel drive, gimme that ten miles a gallon they say will be expensive but I know .. will be just fine, and gimme that ladder to climb. The roof of a van in the middle of nowhere, someone, some wine, lookin' millions of years into the past at a million miles of light. Texas darkness is bigger than life.
04/06 Direct Link
I skipped today.
I don't remember it
In the slightest.
Lost something
Turned everything over
And still
Couldn't find it.
Was late.
Lost it.
Every time
Things start goin'
Fuck it.

Haven't run around like this in a long time. Haven't woke up early and lost my mind like this in a long time. Haven't felt as sick and rushed as this in a long time. Haven't cracked like this. Haven't felt as weak as this. Haven't been as alone in life and friends as this. Haven't given up for so long, like this, in a long time.
04/07 Direct Link
Then again, sometimes you can only find your mind after you lose it.. mine happened to be under my roommate's bed. I sat alone on the bleachers like back in the day when my stepdad was the vice principal of a rival school.

Everything here calls for drinks: birthdays, promotions, new arrivals, "I'm leaving tomorrow"s, bad news, good news, there's trees here, there's rocks.. let's bless everything and get fuschnickered.

I'm going to get a tattoo that says, "this too shall pass." Somehow I think that if I felt as relieved as I did today always, I might be more grateful.
04/08 Direct Link
Despondence, complete and utter, thinkin' about it, tryin' to talk about it but failin,' stumble.. there's got to be an engineer out there who can buttress this slowly crumblin' fortress. There's got to be an architect to help shore up the shape of this weakened structure. It just needs a little touch-up work but its citizens are artists and philosophers. Their enemies' siege engines don't amount to much—the heavy stone walls are pretty tough—but, after a long enough battle, sticks and stones—weapons of cowards' spineless litigious crusades—can shatter the finest castle in this day and age.
04/09 Direct Link
Having grown up with anger, he knew better than to rise to an impromptu occasion or let his fists do his extemporaneous speaking but lately he'd started thinking that, if these lips don't kiss, they may as well permit a venomous hiss provoking, in some later-on instance, the opportunity to test the true extent of mounting impotent furious idleness. He started to think, "let this goddamn dyke break,"knowing full well that its destruction would release little, save for his pent-up aggression—what little to none there was bound to be left—and demons who, resembling him, would also hiss.
04/10 Direct Link
Sometimes there are people in life that make you sick to your stomach or ill, simply thinking about them. Never in my life would I have thought that my father would fall to such depths. He's always been an asshole, but how are you supposed to talk with someone who deliberately, obviously cheats on his or her spouse, tells them to lose weight and get a job, and then continue to cheat? This man has manipulated my sister for years, hurt everyone he's ever been associated with, and pursued his own ends for far too long. The man's gotta die.
04/11 Direct Link
All my relationships are long stories. That's what I tell people after the first couple of times I tell them; break down; tell an abbreviated version. Until I just forget every detail. My only tattoo is the name of my first girlfriend—I got it afterward—and when people ask me what it means, I'm tempted to say (for expedience' sake) that it doesn't. Mean. A damn thing.

The stories are abbreviated until there's nothing left. Pictures, conjectures, the smell of sex. But sometimes a smell or the sound of a name will catch, hurt briefly, and leave me completely empty.
04/12 Direct Link
"Maybe the reason is that he doesn't sleep until he's exhausted,"Mara thought, standing at the foot of his bed and worrying, watching him turn fitfully with his teddy bear in hand. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she took a few steps and sat beside him, and caressed his cheek with her fingertips. That seemed to soothe him. His sleeping face had become more worried the past few weeks, and so did her waking face. He didn't want to be a burden on her, and didn't volunteer his problem; she didn't ask. That was his problem.
04/13 Direct Link
A man sitting in his car, alone, seems to be talking to himself. A couple on a park bench makes funny electronic noises, or appears to be talking to another nonexistent couple. A stranger starts a conversation with me:
"How are you today?-
"What are you up to?-
Not much, you?
"Oh, fine. How's Susan been?-
Wait, what? I don't know a Sus—..
"Yeah, I hear she's in really bad shape.-

There will come a time before telepathy where cell phones will become nearly invisible, and everyone will walk around apparently talking with themselves.
I need to get a camcorder.
04/14 Direct Link
This stress is
(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
Not getting
(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
To me.
(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
There's nothing
(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
Can make
(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
Me cave..

apart from you—I just wanna be your slave. To give up, chin up, naked, broken, shaved, and put on display. To feel owned and moan and be made to scream your name. ‘cause it seems that letting go any other way is a big mistake. Please don't stop now!

(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
Claim me;
(breathe breathe breathe breathe)
I'm yours for the taking


If you tell me what you need.
04/15 Direct Link
For every action, there is an equal but opposite inaction. For every thing that exists, there is no thing exactly like it. Scientists have tried, and two sheep still won't fit in the same space/time coordinates. That being said, there is no culture like the United States of America public.

Not that that's bad, it's just that it bugs me that nobody in this whole country wants to hug me. For one reason or another I'm unique and that's so scary that, for me, gettin' any lovin' is completely out of the question. They put a price on love: EXPENSIVE.
04/16 Direct Link
Of auto exhaust and new carpet, these old smells stop me at odd spots to wonder, "why are you so very attractive?"
The former is a byproduct of vehicles; the latter isn't terribly uncommon. It's just that these, in combination with some sense of spring, remind me of times I've long since forgotten. Things like these about myself I don't remember to remember, or intend to forget. Scent lingers, transient, and in diffusion, is the sense most reminiscent of life's impermanence. But tonight, since I'm spent, I'll slip like sleep beneath some bittersweet moment, forgetting her hair, skin, and conditioner.
04/17 Direct Link
You say "benediction;" I, "emotional sanctions." What's the word babe, or which isn't? Is "godsend" a verb or some lying adjective? Let me be your slave or let my adoration pay levy, rent, or some other heavy penance, 'cause getting hooked on free love again bears some hellish resemblance to pretending not to be sick to my stomach when all I want is to empty it. It's not that I'm not a man, it's just I just can't handle these loan payments, 'cause the interest paid far outweighs the lightness at the end, of this goddamn tunnel stairway to heaven.
04/18 Direct Link
They're taking our jobs. They're invading our culture. They're eroding our social values and morals and have to be stopped. Not as soon as possible. Now. Because they won't rest until they live among us equally, sharing in health care, living freely among us, like they're Americans or something. I mean, do you really want one of them living next door to you, playing their music and carrying on? It's come too far already. It's time to organize and petition our leaders--we simply won't stand for this. We've got to pass laws, put up more walls, and buy guns.
04/19 Direct Link
Late for work can't find my I.D pants on--no, shirt first--shit shit shit, socks boots, out the door..
Smoke? No, no time. It's cold and they can see me for miles. Short quick steps to and general distractibility in class, pass out, lunchtime short, more afternoon work, a break and then they resume crackin' the whip. It's hot as hell and the wind's a bitch, I don't know if I can handle this. "Back to basics" is sort of a joke with us, 'cause we're grown-ups, it's six or half past, another frustrating waste of an otherwise beautiful day.
04/20 Direct Link
Amber of the moon face and straw-blonde and full lips who shone like gold in the afternoon diffusion through blinds. Amber of talking late nights both in our beds parents sleeping loved me first undercover kissed me first bedroom door closed and anime on. Amber on my arm afterward threw away things that were important—gifts, she didn't seem to recognize me—and startled me by smoking. Amber whom I drove to visit and wore the shirt I gave her (I still have mine) and was my first ever lover muse, but now is just a six year old picture.
04/21 Direct Link
I have become derelict in pencil and pen and it's time, I think, to repent. Misappropriation of talent isn't unlike high treason. Graphite and ink are the reason. All this is open to interpretation. Who am I to deserve a vacation from life and perspective, and decline to volunteer an opinion? Let's do these lines; let's spend our time; let's not waste our chance to make a real difference. Let's write some shit that'll get them twisted—shit that they can't dismiss—and blow their tiny minds up and into proper proportion. It's not at all revolutionary—it's a responsibility.
04/22 Direct Link
Dawn the barista with the Jew nose and snorted when she laughed, too, the fly killing contest was a tie but when she asked for something of mine I gave her a popsicle stick with my number on it. Dawn whom I ran into a month later at the coffee shop and brushed off because I was working on something more important. Dawn, beautiful and irrevocably flawed, whom I kissed sweetly all over Omaha—the pond, theatre, graveyard—and smoked, and couldn't handle it. Dawn, who brought her new boyfriend-slash-metro-friend to my art opening and said "hello,"making me uncomfortable.
04/23 Direct Link

Dear Lover,
It's been quite a while since we've been in touch but I'd like for you to remember, the good times. And I'm not at all bitter that you left me in the lurch without a word, really, truly, I just hope you're happy with whomever wherever without me. We clicked at the time and didn't work out.. that's fine—things change—and besides, we had our moments in the sun. Don't ever forget the warmth because of the things you said; it might seem creepy, but I'll never forget. It was fun while it lasted. Be good, kid.

Sincerely yours,
04/24 Direct Link
This girl can pin and watch me writhe as I try and shed my skin. She enrages and elevates me, breaks and makes me twist within myself. She can force an issue to whole truth and knows when to, includes me in her doctorate-level thesis conversation because this discursion makes me feel special. This woman knows what she wants; I'm just gifted to be part of it. I can catch and hold her attention. She's passionate and interested and doesn't depend on me to define or defend her identity. Then again, all modern relationships end.

We'll call this one "preparation.-
04/25 Direct Link
Is it really this big inside my head, or am I some sort of magician? Are my memories real? Did any of this ever happen? Reality and what I think are so disparate I can't reconcile them correct. Sure, everything shifts, but I've got to feel a disconnect. There's gotta be a mess. There's gotta be a rift. There's gotta be some other way to test the difference between this and authenticity. These experiences seem like they should back me up in waking life but drag down, daydreaming and distracted, and every day is filled with wonder.

Differences in perception.
04/26 Direct Link
Rome and I discussed religion for a bit in his beat-up van as he drove me in, spurred by thoughts on my father's faithlessness and adulteration, and he mentioned that his company's going to get rid of a 3/4-ton van. Lucky me and lucky him, 'cause he needs to replace them.

Dean is a maniac, all hair slicked back and a crazy manic kind of grin. Nice guy, professional, runs a clean shop, patent leather and black and white tile. My money will waterproof his front doors. The needle burns like a razor, but he moves it like a muse.
04/27 Direct Link
This new ink has my days in new perspective, a reminder, that truly all things shall pass. Patience isn't necessarily a given, but it's, at least, something everyone can work on. They say the saying comes from the Bible and I can see why--Christ was the foundation for a lot of conventional wisdom that, like common sense, isn't even very conventional or common--be good to one another, come on, people, now, smile on your brother--this life is far too fleeting to pay heed to the laws of tradition--everybody get together and love one another. Right now.
04/28 Direct Link
The beautiful damage, sacred and profane, the beautiful facade. Oh, how our youth breaks down generation by generation, based on simpler perception, further simplified and wanting, wanting, oh, wanting for something more than life has to offer. Not consumerism or religion, but a walk up the kiddie pool from the two-foot shallow to the six-inch, ankle deep, wishing for oceans from a wastelandlocked state and time, history has admitted—through horrible omission—this depth wasted: maps no bodies of water, movies more real than we live, colors in this world fading, faster now, by the day, hour, and minute, now.
04/29 Direct Link
When I think back on my life in Omaha I remember the theatre first, the coffee shop before and after, where I met both my previous girlfriends. The theatre I helped to renovate and paint and discover, the prop room with thirty years of performance theatre bric-a-brac and nostalgia. Pushing through the wall and finding the box of manikin hands, and the secret tunnel. Crashing my car after a night's bible study because they didn't stop for red. That was what it was about back then, hectic and dreams of believing I can fly, love and the best of life.
04/30 Direct Link
This isn't the end of a month; it's the end of a day. New Year's isn't a new year except as we think of it in those terms. "The big five-oh"shouldn't sneak up on you if you've been marking the passage of the days. I've lived twenty-two years' worth of days plus a few odd thirty or forty and wouldn't trade many for anything; this is my lot, and as April fades slow into May (not at midnight, when thirty falls back to one), I continue to mark the passage of time like rings in a resplendent, aged oak.