Monday, February 21, 2011


Speck of dust in your sand
Ever for, charcoal man
Trapped in ash, a myriad of gray
Finite control, insatiable need
Smoke billows and pain too
Jaded will trapped inside
Where are you?
Where will you be?
Spin a little more?
Make me dizzy
Sort amber from ember
Char the eyes once more
Key of D to believe
All the little things, once more

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Someday I'll be Saturday Night

So here's the first post of the new year. Yeah I'm way late to cash in on the new year, new beginnings crap, but I'll go ahead with it, even if not directly so
I won't make this post about updates on what I've been up to. I'll start things off differently this time. 
This is more along the lines of "rant to no one". Call it catharsis if you will. But hey, whoever said that was a bad thing just liked being pissed off all the time. I don't so here goes

Hey you,
Before I get to what I need to get to, I must say you seem to be doing good. You look well. I'm glad. It's been a while since we talked. Talked, mind you, not spoke. I would say a lot of things Colin Hay has already said and asked, but I'll leave them be since he does a much better job than I do.
I honestly don't know what I'm getting out of this. I'm not sure I even want to say half the things I have in mind. I think I'll go with the flow. If I sound like a complete idiot, I'll just omit that part out.

No, I don't miss you. I do miss the way I felt back then, but I realized that I confused that with missing apologies, I stand corrected. Me missing the state of being happy and carefree has nothing to do with you. Its between me and my state of mind.

I would like my things back, please. Keep the drivel I fed you in the name of gifts, but I want the rest: the important things, the little things.
Before anything else, I want my point of view back. Yes, we shared it at some place in the past but just because I word it better doesn't mean you "enhance" it to something that we could once call "ours" and now you call "yours". I would like you to return my music as well. I don't know how that works, or if it does at all. But if you can, un-hear all that we heard together and all the little songs I made you listen to. The chances of you thinking of me when you listen to them are slim but why keep it as a variable. If you want, I'll do the same for all that you made me listen to. But we're going to have to figure out what to do about the rest of the music. Stuff I'd heard before but made sense only when we were together. I like the music but I'm tired of having the 'you' tag on them. It's burdening and honestly downright annoying. All this might sound immature and miserly(at some level) but what can I say? Music is all I've ever had and all I ever will(especially if I keep running into the likes of you...ok, I take that back. Cheap shot)
While I'm at it, I would like to have all that I gave to you in terms of words. Even the harsh, bitter, venomous and simply hurtful ones. I wouldn't want you to hold on to those. I'll throw them away. But the nice ones I could do with. I swear to God I haven't been able to mean them in the longest time and I don't think I'll ever be able to while you still hold on to them. It's so hard to express myself these days (this is a clear exception). It's wrong to not be able to open up. No, I refuse to open up to you. That ship, I'm sorry to say, has sailed. We're (hopefully) different people now. Yesterday's gone, we can't go back again. That's something I've made my peace with. I guess you did way before me anyway, maybe even when we were still together but what do I know. So please, try and forget anything honest I might've said to you. Burn the little notes. Delete the emails. I want to be able say things and actually mean them.
Lastly, give me back my mojo. I have no fucking idea to how it came to be in your possession but Lord knows you don't need it. I nurtured it for years and I'm not willing to watch it rot. It holds the key to my self-assurance and that's more important that probably the mojo itself. I'm tired of not being who I used to be. I'm tired of second-guessing myself, so much so that I can come up with terms and theories to define my state of being and after a point, it only makes me sounds pretentious and self-righteous. It took the best of me to be how I used to be and bollocks if I don't want that back!

All in all, I think we'll live like happy shiny people for a long time if we can figure all of the aforementioned out. I'm reminded of something Jack Johnson sang once,
"You might think I'm your enemy,
But that don't make you mine
All I have now is sympathy, 
I wish that you'd stop trying
Oh please stop lying..."

Love (or lack thereof),