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Shaken awake through hazy dreams. Jump to my feet, an emergency it seems. Grab my clothes and away I go. Off to work to take it slow. Get there quick and punch this slip. Then sit in a chair, eying my unkempt hair. Drift through hours of silence. Thinking sour thoughts of my boss (he is a tyrant). Pretend to work, then dream and sleep. Then break for awhile to eat. I cannot lie, it is quite the thing. My job is more boring than almost anything. You see it is hard to be overjoyed, when I am gainfully unemployed.
I walked the street. Knocking here and there. Asking if anybody had a job to spare. The few I did meet, simply shook their heads and stared. Worn out shoes, holes in my coat. Dressed this way I have no reason to gloat. I am dirty and I stink. With bloodshot eyes it is hard to blink. I cannot pay my rent, not even a single cent. But that is what you get when scratch-off tickets patch your worn out soles. My soul is not gone yet. Though I have begun to fret. For this stomach needs feeding soon.
Today rain pours down and I have cardboard in hand. Alongside this road, lonely, I stand. Insults and birds fly overhead. Some would say they would rather be dead. I, unlike them, am happy to be alive and smile instead. Today luck is not to be found and not a single car slows. So with soggy clothes and a ruined sign. I trudge to the hovel that I call mine. Amid the rubble and rabble and ruin. I lay among garbage, from other hands strewn. Against no pillow, I rest my head. Against no sheets, I go to bed.
Hunger is hunger and pain is pain. Strung out forever, I have life to gain. Sinking not into depression nor destruction or despair. Living is an obsession. You do not understand. I am simply a man. A man down on his luck. A man with not a single buck. Yet a man with hope, with pride, with love. A man striving to rise above. I will not stay in shadow, in hunger, in pain. No longer will I be viewed the same as criminal, a vagrant, a rat. I am worth more. I know that. You just wait and see.
She gives me a meal, a shower, a shirt. Such kindness, is it deserved? Humbled by her gentle smile. She asks me to stay, at least for awhile. Reluctant at first, I could not say no. I spent the night at the farm, for once I was not alone. The morning's chores I finished, my way of returning the favour. She then offered me a job as a laborer. Without hesitation I agreed. Taken aback by her unselfish deed, I learned and worked. Not a job did I shirk. It is nice to be happy for a change.
I find it difficult to keep a storyline going with such few words. It's truly an art form. so i've decided it's over. for now. I can't write well and I write for myself. But i try to woo the world with my words. Alliteration! Win! Annie is sleeping and dying and doing dog-like things. Denver is not responding. And Astrid just messaged me. What a surprise... Wishes do come true. All I have to do is write about them. Amazing. If only live was so easy. Tomorrow is work and a concert with Kathryn. I am delightfully nervous.
And I ain't got no worries cause' I ain't in no hurry at all! Chicago and The Doobie Brothers concert tonight with K.O. Amazing! Two of the best Jam Bands out there. They can really rock. She of course looked beautiful as ever. It took a lot of willpower not to try anything when I dropped her off. Excellent birthday present for her in any case. Denver Red is being flirtatious as usual and I am just sitting here in my underwear wondering what to do tomorrow after work. I am ready for guys weekend. I think. We'll see.
She never feels good enough. Years of meaningless relationships to fill that empty void. Awash in sex and sloppy kisses and drunken I love you's. I wish I could just spin her around. Show her what it is like. Let this stop motion summer kick her head into gear and help her understand. It worries me. It kills me. I don't think I could stand another blow. But instead of intervening I take it slow. Looking for a chance. Looking for that moment all this time. She doesn't even know what's on my mind. I just hope that it works.
When it came to intelligence, S.B. had none. She was a good lay though. And for me, it was time. But things never last when personality clashes. But my god I could never resist the smile. As far as maturity, her to me was like a firefly to a fire. I dwarfed her. K.O. in relation to us, is a forest fire. I just wish that I can measure up to her someday. She knew all truths during the entire ordeal. If only If only I hadn't been blinded. Experience though, is always a good thing to have.
It's a plane ride, a train ride, a car trip away. But I can make it in a single day. It's worth the trouble, that I know. To travel from the land of snow, to the land of, um, er, more snow? I hope you smile and I hope you blush. Even though I cannot flirt all that much. The things we'll do, the list grows long. Kind of like some damn country song. We'll learn to swing dance, to sway, and to swirl. It'll be one hell of a trip. I cannot wait to show you, my Denver Girl.
I have stopped hugging you because I don't want to lose control. A simple good bye and see you later is more than enough. Every glance sends me astray. I know we cannot live that way. But it's hard to do when we are so in tune. So keep it simple, keep it small. I will soon get over this, and we'll be alright after all. So please forgive me if I seem aloof. I'm trying my best to keep things straight. One slip and down we go. Keep it simple, keep it small. In the end, its my call.
I saw you naked tonight. You in all your shaven splendor. That full moon mirrored the one in the sky. My oh my. There was no reserve nor timidity. You shucked down to nothing without a thought. Ran, screaming in youthfulness, to the rope swing. Tattoos black against your pale skin. Jumping, swinging, splashing. Refreshed. The cool water must have been heavenly after the oppressing do-nothing heat of the day. I sat, jealous at your carelessness. I could have joined you. Thoughtless and happy. Instead I sat on my bench by the fire. To self-conscious to have fun.
The hammock swings ever so gently, back and forth. Horizontal to the world, you crave for nothing more. The sun is righteous, setting in the west. The breeze slight, through the leaves then your hair. Grass, trees, a lifetime of smells drift up to you. Fireflies fly past and pretend to be early stars. Laying there, you can forget your scars. The world is kind and gentle and full. Nothing to pull you or or throw you or spin you around. Just life and smiles, making time stand still for awhile. Everything feels right on this stop motion summer night.
With the whim of the wind I spin around again. No true direction at all. Except towards endless blue I fall. The skies around me are empty as I plunge into this sea. My mind wiped blank as I sank and sank. I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. Every effort to swim was meek and mild. In all my years I felt as if I were a child. And so resigned to my fate, I laid back and gave up on it all. The years and tears and fears. Thrown away. No more struggle and strain. I finally feel sane.
The whole house fan creates a suction that slams doors in the middle of the night. When I was younger (and still today) I would jump in fright. Cars on the highway make soft growls as they hit the rumble strips. Yet a soft glow from the night light show that nothing is amiss. Curled up under layers and layers of wool. Guarded by the army of Stuffed Ferociousness (making sure not to dangle appendages over the edge of the bed), I felt safe. The world can come alive in ways we all despise. Especially when your age is five.
*Click*. As the scratchy record starts to play my mind instantly clears of dismay. Music flows around the room, dispelling every bit of gloom. Smiles appear as these harmonics chase away our fears. And the sun begins to dance with us. Thirty-three revolutions (adding one-third more) of music a minute. The black vinyl glistening as it turns. We then take our turn at waltzing around this cluttered room. Hopping over clothes and boxes and toys. With unabashed voices we sing our joy. Until we hover over the unmade bed and crash down together as the song ends. *Click*.
Tonight I am laying in bed eating ice cream. Is that one word or two words? Definitely two words says my Firefox spell checker. My phone is alive with messages from K, B, C, and Denver Girl. K is talking about raccoons. B is talking about going to East Lansing and having a record and book store day. C is discussing events that happened earlier today. And Denver is discussing food. Which we have started doing recently. Apparently she is a huge steak fan. Which means I will have to treat her out to a nice fancy steak dinner someday.
With unconquerable dreams and hopes so high. They sought to explore the sky. Years of work and seconds of paused heartbeats. All to watch their inventions fly. Lifting and soaring, in reality it was better than in anyone's mind. Climbing out of sight, they broke the stars of time. Exaltation and applause. Better than expectation. And now all these ties are ready for the next sunrise. To the next step. The next level. Shooting for the sun. We know secretly that they won't reach it. To crush their dreams would be inhuman. But they must fail. It'll burn them up.
Tentatively I slide hand down your back, underneath your shirt onto warm, bare, skin. Encountering no resistance from you my hand travels ever so slowly upward, searching for your bra strap. Innocent and unpracticed I look for the clasp. Ever eager to progress further I fumble around, lost in unfamiliar territory. Desperate not to look like a complete fool I try harder, my hand groping awkwardly all around. I follow the thin strap from side to side, helpless. You, quite aware of my earnest intentions, laugh at my futile attempt. Then finally whisper in my ear, "It's a front clasp".
Laying on my side underneath the covers. The whole house fan is loud in the hallway. Air flows through my windows in a cross breeze up into the attic. Bringing in the noises of the summer night. My phone is resting on my head, held in place by gravity alone. The laptop lights up the room, in a fake fluorescent glow. D. is on the other end doing god knows what. Tennessee moonshine is amazing. Tried it for the first time tonight thanks to L. Guys weekend is coming up, and I am afraid I will have internet. Uh oh.
We do not know what the future holds. Obviously. All I know is what I am feeling right now. I can't promise you forever. I can't even promise tomorrow. All I can promise is that this very instant everything will be good. Because right now I feel everything so intensely. And I am going to make of it what I can. Not worry about tomorrow or ten years from today. Looking only at what is happening right now. Because these feelings are true and deep and total. And when it comes down to it, that is all that matters really.
I need to shave. I cannot grow a full beard. Yet this prickly stubble has become a nuisance. Every three days or so I begin to fight a hard battle. How irritating is the stubble (on a scale of 1 to oh my fucking god get this shit off me) versus how lazy am I today. Some days I couldn't care less. Not going anywhere, nobody to impress. So I let the shit grow and I relax. Others I cannot stand it. With a sweep of my hand it is gone. I haven't shaved in about four days. It's time.
They jumped off the rope swing with god-like confidence. Not a care in the world as they fell and swung and splashed. Laughter and shouting and water was everything. My turn. Fuck. The twelve foot high platform towered over the water once I climbed it. Catcalls and pressure from down below flew past my dizzy head as I peered over the edge. The rope was small and wet in my trembling hands. He who hesitates is lost. So I jumped. Gravity then physics then gravity again all took turns as I descended. Falling. Flying. Falling. Splash. Surface. Smile. Again.
I read an article once that talked about heartbreak research. The theory was that emotional and physical pain is related. The PhD's stated that if you took painkillers, like Tylenol, it would help ease your emotional distress. Always being one for facts I remembered this, but never really thought about it again. Until she left me. Within hours I was popping pills. 200 mg, 400 mg, 600 mg, 800 mg, 1000 mg. The bottle was empty. Hours and tears went by unnoticed. Silently rocking the pain away. Ignoring the world. If I knew who published that study. I'd shoot them.
I close my eyes and my heart beats in rhythm. These vibrations wash away my soul, everything is forgiven. Swept clean at last. My troubles never last. I will go on shinin', just like brand new. As long as my music is here to carry me through. No matter the troubles that I will encounter. These tunes will not let me falter. Frost said "Life goes on". And that it shall, as long as I've got the radio on. So turn the volume up. Let the rhythm dash away your gloom. And let us dance around this old room.
I dream myself awake. I don't know how much more I can take. Uneventful days stream by in rows, joining the haze that I know so well. I wish there was truly a wishing well. Because in this world life might as well be hell. I would wish for more and less and everything else. Anything at all as long as it got me away from this. I don't want comfort. You say this is the world. I don't want the world. I don't want reality. I reject your reality and choose my own fantasy.
Can you imagine more colour?
Emails sent late at night. Words thrown into careful order. Wishing with all my might that they find you well and smiling. A sentence designed to make you blush. Streamlined paragraphs I worked and fussed over. Edited and sweated and redone. I knew in my heart that this one would do the trick. I knew that it would change your mind. I knew that you would realize what a mistake it was. I knew that you would come back. One quick last read through. Send.
I waited and waited, and when no reply came, I knew it was from you.
Laying in bed icing my shoulders. I did absolutely nothing productive today. Though I did enjoy a $35 salmon dinner. Thank you parents! I am icing my shoulders because I spent all week water skiing and jet skiing. I didn't know I used so many muscles. Hopefully tomorrow I'll hang out with K. or C. Maybe a movie? I don't really care. It seems like a hassle trying to be active with friends. Sometimes I pump out meaningful pieces. Others I write like this. And it's pointless. But I'm just not feeling the groove. Six words left. Now one. Done.
You've entrapped me. I had a chance to get laid yesterday. And I passed it up. Because of you. Because you have my mind. It would feel like I was cheating. And I'm not yours, nor are you mine. But it feels like it. Those random texts. A smiley face. A kind word. And I am yours. Someday I'll make the trek. I know I will. I have to. Because I have to hold your hand at least once. I need to look into your eyes and see your smile. I think I'd die without the chance. I am yours.
Lay your body down beside mine. Fiddle with my bracelet, everything will be fine. Just like the thread woven together our legs intertwine. Open the shades and the streetlight pours in. Illuminating our poor excuse for a bed within. No matter it's wealth or comfort or strength. Laying here together we have no cause for angst. So dry your tears and let me strip you of your fears. The world isn't collapsing around our heads. Life is perfect and peaceful and precious, here on this creaky old bed.
I promise everything will be fine. Just lay your body beside mine.
When I first started writing, I did it out of boredom. Randomly, here and there. But then I experienced heartbreak. And the teenager in me enjoyed the medium in which to express my sorrow. Once my heart healed however, I stopped for a bit. I noticed though that I was always drawn to writing. A doodle in my notebook, lines written on my friends hand. It became apparent that it was a perfect way in which to express all emotion, not only sadness. Since then I've been writing, randomly, ever since. 100 words has turned writing into a habit. Thanks.
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