remember this second, flood the feeling of Sun

I've got great news...

I sat and thought. I'm inside on a sunny day and I'm okay.

Realizing, as I was sitting here, that I never had a chance.

That my regret is all about nothing, and all I've been trying to make right

is gone.

Happy... i've not been this happy in so long.

In Love with Love

ME

Candle

The candle needs a shade
to light the way

trials and trails and roots in the way
it needs the shade.

to throw the light
in a helpful way

the light in the eyes and the praise still comes
the outline of arteries and veins
like the roots in the way

look left and right
and try to look down
there is a blanket on the ground

it's dull and orange and smells of pine
covers the natives and the poor
lime and bone, moss and snow

Light another candle, cause the way is lost
but the shade is all that's needed

the roots are so thick
and rise like bridge which under
feet are lodged

the candles falls out and down
catches fire to the ground

catches fire all around...

My sister

If I was never here, what if?

and my foundation is dirt and dank.

I remember so little, sister. 

Did you go to prom, did anyone take pictures?
Are they fading in the ground?

Did anyone ever tell you that you are beautiful?
Did anyone tell you that you are loved?

You are so easy to cut to the core, so easily ignored. So easily dismissed and disgraced. But you will always have grace, through my eyes. 

I've never told you. I should've told you. 

I'm sorry. 

Every Life.

Every life is beautiful.
Every life is tragic.

Your life is a beauty.
Your life is a tragedy.

What are you so happy about?
What are you complaining about?

You've not heard a word I've said. 

My eyes...

This is what i've learnt

1) don't expect the wound to miss the knife. 
2) loneliness is a drill.
3) the mind is a holding tank. sometimes needs patching, sometimes becomes full, often time empty.
4) loneliness is a sharp drill
5) the tank's sides are weak
6) you can't look at the content all at once. 
          or you'll drown by the sight of it. 

As an act of contrition, this posted was edited.

Enjoy the Spring.

I like this song

The days go on, the lights go off and on
And nothing really matters when you're gone
If you think that you feel nothing at all
If you don't (If you don't)
Then you don't (No, you won't)
If you won't
Then you won't
And I will
Then I will

Dreams.

Maybe God thought I was having a shortage of regret in the waking hours so he gave me an ENTIRE night filled with dreams on the subject. 

The first dream involved no regret, but did involve 3 of 4 of my new roommates. I don't remember much from the dream accept one of my roommates was doubled... The scene just before I awoke was particularlly distrubing. She had come in from outside with acute hypothermia. We are talking dream over-rought acute; her back was frozen about the ribs. I remember picking her off the couch, stepping forward with her, then ploughing into the  coffee table, dropping her in slow motion. In my dream one of my roommates screams "MAAAAAAAAAATTTTT....". As I woke the Ts blended with the hissing sound of a city bus going by on the street. For a moment they were one in the same sound. Severely unsettling. 

So I saw that film last night. Without going into a huge description/review, it was about this period in famous film-maker Cazeh Zehedi's (make "A Waking Life") life when he was habitually sexing(ha) prostitutes while in relationships.

Some of the things he would say to his significant others to justify his desires, needs were distinctly familiar. I became somewhat nervous during the movie--well, I had to pee throughout the entire thing.

My other dream was entirely a scenario of recognition that I had behaved much like Cazeh with respect to my relationship with Samantha. I'm not going to go into much detail. But I do want to mention that this one scene

It's more about

I just saw an independent film at the Balboa Theater called "I am a sex addict" by the guy who directed "A waking life"

Really, really funny, artful and, in the end, touching. 

I'm glad to see people with vices who aren't ashamed to document them. It is difficult; you can take it to the grave.  

I wrote this at the beach on 4/20/06:

When I was young I faced east
when the sun was low it rose
rose above the Atlantic
and all the submerged histories
I knew nothing of

Now,here

The sun is low in the west, sinking
into the Pacific, or a slight sooner,
clouds make the western wall
The sun, in its ancient rung, has climbed from my birthplace
The place my parents
dipped my timid toes in the Icy brine
for the first time.

It's more about a life of first times, changes and impressions.
It's more about saying what you mean if you mean it
showing all your skin to the ones you want to keep
and loving completely the ones in your skin

It's more about living life,
than life.

California Girl

I met this girl last night.

She is from a town near Eureka (Nor Cal).

She is beautiful. Her eyes are brown, her smile is unforgettable. She has two tattoos, one of a lion on her lower back and a jasmine flower on her left hip. She is a Leo, born August 5. 

I am supposed to call her this week, maybe hang out. 

At the end of the night, as she was getting into the cab, she kissed me on the lips, not the cheek, but the lips. 

I hope I get to know her, and if she ever reads this, then she'll know I was thinking about her all day. 

check it out.

The priming

I guess I'm the same everywhere

There is something familiar about this place,

when I close my eyes...

I could be anywhere, but I'm the same.

Location does not change me. The miles have not morphed me,

into a world weary sun, the son is the same and the days are mostly August dust.

And though I trace long lines across the place, and I the mountains become plains

I'm feeling very much the same.

Judging the past and predicting the future, as if I've been there before. Cause, honestly, this is feeling like the past, therefore the future will feel like... So I know what's in store.

The end is somewhere in there too. So maybe I should do more, be more, love more, talk more, think more, write more, appreciate more, fix more, see more, and run more many many miles. Maybe I'll feel different, and not be the same, or accept my "same" or something, before I go.

Maybe I'll create something to leave behind, cause where I'm going I cannot return. And it is sad, cause I don't think I'll see you there--I hardly knew you in life. But maybe when I travel the distance that has no measure, we can sit and talk?

Cause I am what you'll leave behind. And maybe we just sleep. Then I'll never know. Never change. Be the same while I sleep forever.

Maybe I we should sit near the lake and talk in the sun soon. Cause your head is silver, life is making your heart tired. You can only expect it to toil for so long.

Toil on.

And I'll be here, far away. The same.

The wood work

How beautiful can God make that molding?
and thread the waves in the grain
a beautiful sacrifice of sweet smelling wood
with an axe you've met an end
with me, begun again


if you'll let me, I'd plane my hands over you
over every space
I'd memorized the knots and shimmering lines
the turning streams of texture
follow them with my fingers.

i'm watching the woodwork
I hope you come out
What can I do
What can i do
please come out

And again.

See below....

Real forgiveness

How can I make this real for you.

I am outta sight and certainly out of state,

but still...

this exploration is delving deep into a jungle

I can not tame, I can not blame....

for my heart is hearing the rest of your wailings...
the great love assailing you.

holding on... I'm holding on... to the Pine trees, to the dead leaves, to the sweet breeze...

over my skin

and this urban organ is warning me to recede and take back the love I've been ready for... oh I'm ready for it, oh you YOU come and get it, on we will not set it a top any mantel, it will be our stand 'till the motions be still...

Seriously?

I should not write when I'm drunk.

blank = white

Never never never
did I think I would be here

painting pictures for the blind
for the rest that try to see
the salt, the sting
you've got that thing that I can't have
the forever-sadness

I'm going to illustrate you a scene
in which I've been
sunny all my days
back when the ways of the world
would let you seep into my girl

When I was not looking
Birches grew from my head
bone blanched and red dead.

And in the center I've exploded again.
Just fifteen seconds to say goodbye.
a moment only to pity and cry.
Squandered as such
deserving to die.

What i learned today: that there is truth in thought.
That we are gifted this mind, and though we have little control over its wanderings,
it can set us so unbalanced and apart from the soil, that we merely forget the love.

love involved in ...

The title

The title of my blog is misleading. I'm assuming if you check this then you'll want to know what is happening in my life. Truth be told, I'm hardly writing in this thing anymore because if I did write about all my events, feelings, whatever, I would be at it all day. So why don't you write about the important stuff? Well, I can't. I've got no filter. I can't prioritize. That shit's hard!

Cop-out.

But, hey, you wanted to know? There you go.

I feel like writing a poem. On Craig's list they have poems written by desperate people. They are about real pain and, as kind of a twisted perversion of emotion, are heartbreakingly bad.

But hey... At least they are having interactions with people that are breaking their hearts. Good for them. I'm content to stare at the ground and pretend I'm to good for human interaction. Not like I'm craving it or anything. (Dripping with sarcasm...obviously)

"I love the sound of tires running along wet pavement.". she said with her head on his chest.

She had been lying there, one ear to his breath, the other--ignoring the TV's droning voices-- focused on sound of pavement's moistness.

"Hmm? Ah... yeah, me too."

"Really? When I was young...", but was ssshhed before she was through.

In the beginning his eyes were bright, his smile wide and sincere. Now...

Now it's time to sever
all the many years we walked together,
all the sunsets dipped in heather,
all the star fields foraged through,
all the times I confided in you,
all the mornings in our bed,
the sun golden guilded our heads.

The sound of wet tires washed me through,
and now I will be done with you...

She raised herself up off him
smiled and said,

"I'm getting a sandwich. You want another beer?"

Morphine

I've not written in a while. So much as happened. I went back to Vermont for the Top Cat's 25th anniversary show. Everyone I love was there, with the exception of a very few individuals (my brothers, Talia, etc.). It was euphoria after weeks of being alone--for the most part--in San Francisco.

Anna was at the after party. Figured out what kind of individual she is, glad thats done with minimal damage to me. Acting, I suppose that was it. If she was genuinely dramatic with me it would be on thing, but I always felt an artificial quality to her.

Emily was no where to be found. I was suppose to call her Friday night... I don't know. Eventually--hours before I was to leave--we met for coffee at Uncommon Grounds. Things will never be the same between Emily and I; just one of those relationships that I destroyed. Another person that is so unique that I will never meet another that could even remind me of them.

Missing people, I am. For some reason it is never as intense as I feel it should be.

I will have moments of intense emotion: I'll be so sad, tears will form and line the bottom of my eyes, and then it will be gone. And it will be for some really small reason, like a fluttering moment. When I was a teenager I use to miss people so severely, I remember longing for people so clearly. Not anymore. Maybe I've seen too much, become too hard, met to many people... maybe I'm just surviving.

On this day I had an experience like none before. It is almost scary how well I know myself, how well I know what I will like and dislike. Maybe I understand my destiny better than most people.

We are running a study at the PCRC (pain clinical research center, where I work). Without going into too much detail, we dose people with placebo or Morphine, and then we test there reactions to Hot Pain. It is extremely interesting work. There are risks to taking Morphine, however.

A really nice, intelligent guy enrolled in the study. He was a pleasure to talk to, and so we chatted back and forth in the small exam room in which our studies are run. The first injection went fine. The side effects were bearable,--so he said-- spacy, light-headed, dry mouth, sleepy.

The second injection was a vastly different story. About an hour after the dose, during one of the tests, the Morphine hit him like truck. Within 10 seconds he went from sleepy, to nauseous, to vomiting on himself and passing out. Scott, the study Doc and I heaved him onto a gurney; he immediately came to. I had reflexively elevated his legs and now he stared up at me in amazement. Clearly, he was astonished to be lying supine and have someone, who just a moment ago was running a test, now holding his legs up. As for me, I was shaking. I was scared, but another part of me knew that in this moment I had experienced an event that had been previously missing from me. It has physically become a part of me, the moment. The instant when I was lifting this person--helpless and limp-- to the gurney, the decision to rush to his legs and lift them, watching him come to and look up at me for explanation, me reassuringly patting his calf repeating,"It's alright. You're alright. You're fine.", all this is now in me.

This event has it's costs, of course. I feel guilty for learning through suffering, particularly when it is someone else's. The Greeks had this underlying lesson in their Mythologies: "Mathos Pathos", that is, learning through suffering. I suppose it is another of the harsh realities of a life in medicine that I am just not accustom to.

I'm going to start a new blog to track my experience in the PCRC (pain clinical research center). check it out.