another goodbye.
spent the evening amongst those who i recently avoided out of selfishness. and it was amazing. the evening began with anxious words and movements... arrival. chatting up a storm with the one departing and the recent addition to my cell phone. bonded, and smitten. we caught a free show, and in the words of the man behind the microphone "These are the moments We'll remember for the rest of our lives These are the moments That make it all worthwhile" (Franky Perez) when i was dropped off at my house, i wanted to pour out my insides.. thank you for all you've meant in every detail. our hug said it all. here's to ya. thank you.

in a fit of tears i am frusterated at the seperation of my sole female friend. she's off to school.. like the others. but when i recall the things we went though, it's somehow different, and i don't know how to cope other than to cry. unable to sleep with the internal pictures i keep of her running through my mind i clean in a mindless rage.. opening a box i so clearly recognize i remember my grandma, never have i cried so often at the perminant loss of someone. it's her sewing box.. and inside, to my surprise, i found my senior picture, tucked neatly in the pocket.

i wish they knew what they meant to me. like really knew. i wish i would have told them more often.
i wish i could tell people i love them with out worry. because all of a sudden it becomes too late.

For every hair on my head, theres a direction i want to go. I want to scream with all the fire fueling my inner engine. my eyes are heavy and irritated by over use, aching for relief, but the day has just begun. the writing coming from my fingers repeats the same few frustrations. all of which i find little point in posting since it's uncommon that they'll be accepted in a savvy condition. but inspiration resides on the chain around my neck.. a single souvineer suggests a naked tree, a natural symbol of growth and harmony; of hope and renewal, of life itself, and reminds me that i am an artist. what moves me, renews me, and makes me more alive is mine.
but like you, i am art.. open to interpretation.

there was a day i spent in your basement two years ago... it was there that your ex best friend strummed the strings of his guitar to a song you asked him to learn. you were going to sing it at your celebration of completing of twelve years of public schooling. i had never heard the song before, and i hadn't known you more than two weeks. but the minute you opened your mouth and sang the lyrics, they sank into my heart and i could have sworn... well.. anyhow. the words still linger there, along with all the things that have built between us... and when it that song plays on the radio, i feel the simplicity of my craving to be a part of your world. maybe they'll play it for you tonight. maybe you'll remember tonight.

image, reputation, self.
the way the world sees you
compared to your own self image.
who you actually are.
what you love about other people
telling them before it's too late.
then having it blowup and backfire.
still meaning it
keeping it quiet
cant hold it in
boom.

invited out to a place i've always felt welcome.. surrounded by people who've always been fun and cumfortable. and still i run away to debate what it means to be young and live carefree... get your kicks while you can... id wrather clean my room and get to bed in time to be rested for work tomorrow. (did i just say that?)

i attempt to resist the raging instinct to fetch me some food. so wrapped in a blanket of insecurities stitched with shame i crawl back to my hole ... willing to be unhappy now if it means feeling pretty later. ugh. i disgust myself with my poor self image. (hmm... a battle cry if i ever heard one)

seems these postings of mine have become more journal like, and less .. "poetic". reflection of my life. and so it goes.

the drive to post is obvious- you expect me like i expect you.
but whats to be said.
i'm again left with little clue as to where we are. you pulled me in close in the parking lot of a closed coffee shop and i stopped existing just long enough to get a glimpse of heaven. and when i looked back down upon earth and saw us, the frantic need to evaluate, re-evaluate, judge, define and decide rushed over.... and embarrassed by my screaming mind, i just smiled and drove us further down our path. knowing what we want and finding the place to get it leaves little room for an obvious answer.
but we are ever changing, growing, learning about ourselves along the way. and that within itself is priceless, and need i say... art.

tomorrow i will come, complete with words i've been running through my head. although i still don't know if they'll come out... no expectations. i know, sigh. words that have come to be the beginning of my end.

So what's it going to be, Love?
Now or never?
All or nothing?
Forever and a day... not.

Have you done enough thumbnails, Love?
Have you edited and re-edited and peer edited enough to present your final draft?

I was just guessing, Love.
I don't do quick math.
(Is that the cookie or ferris wheel unit?)

Supposed to find poems, Love.
None of them fit your style. You're lost in a sea of words.

I'm lost, Love.
And that's all I am.

want to pack up my things. clean up this place. go to somewhere new and settle in.
glimmer of hope resides in the idea of an old friend and stranger...

work work work (i got my name tag today).

got new jewelry, new shoes and jeans. if only you could see me now.
wanna wear my gear (name tag, too) into your dreams
gonna *snap* *snap* photos in this place i've never been.
learn something new
...gonna get ready, set, go.

by and by, and with a sigh, my trip is completely over. my room didn't bother to clean itself up while i was gone- no surprise there... but after a good shower, washed away the last of the salt from the sea, i begin to settle back into routien.

it's amazing what a week away can do for one's soul. i've processed so many different things this last week. and i guess it's become no secret that i can be very good at running away, sometimes, when it comes to things i dont want/ don't know how to deal with. but stepping back and looking at things from an outside view, well it changes things. and so even even though i'm coming back home to what i left- things look different. i can't say that i've got all the answers, because i don't. i don't really even know if i have any- but at least everything is put into perspective... and if nothing else- they were thought about. and on their way off my list of emotional things to get over.

i know that we're just friends, and thats all we can be.
i know that i'm not afraid of you hurting me again, because i don't have to let you- and wont. but we are connected poets afterall- and so we shall remain sharing all that is art.
i know that we have a hot and cold relationship- you left on a very cold note. but knowing us, it's not the end, and i'm glad.
i know that you're moving onto college, and what we had, wont come back. but i can still be thankful. and i promise to myself to not be jealous of the dolphin roomate.
i know that i have always admired you- and adored your spirit... and we'll only ever read eachother's blogs. perhaps someday i'll write of the man i met while i was gone- who had eyes that reminded me of yours.
i know that we're better friends than we've ever been- and that i would be very sad if it wern't for your crazy antics (and caring nature), what can i say? i'd be lost.

will you have three cheers for my last post from the coast?
i guess i wouldn't, i hardly feel like cheering.
living "like a rock star" (as i like to say), has been amazing.
although i'm not sad to say goodbye to the pool with the waterfall, or the theatre room (even though john travolta looks mighty fine on the big screen)... actually, i wont miss really any part of this five million dollar house.
but what i will miss- is being away from home.
i'm filled with sadness as i realize it's back to the real life:
bills to pay / classes to attend / homework to do / working working working... the list goes on.
but what scares me the most is the realization of everyone leaving. going back to school. and while some of them have only been back for the summer, even those who have always been around are going, are moving on with their lives- getting to have new experiences, meet new friends; and i'm going back to the same 'ol same 'ol... alone.
"aww- boo hoo..."
i guess it's just the realization that things ... aren't the same.

but no shit.

the sea sweeps by, washing away the proof of yesterday. wave by wave the water inches closer to our home, creeping up and sneaking back. while the others and i sit inside, playing family games to strenghten family ties. i finish the hand, get up as fast as i can, and go to the endless horizon.

i awoke to rain tip-toing outside my window and stretched only to curl back into the warmth of where i had been curled up before. to wake up in my own king size bed, well, man... i am content. burried my head into my pillow and started to think about how "no wonder this house is worth five million dollars"
i rose a bit later and walked out to the ocean- when i reached the waters edge i looked up and down this narrow strech of land- and for as far as the eye can see there are houses like ours- only bigger. i thought about the property value of this strech of beach- if our "small" home is five million- and if the rest are even close to that amout- imagine the billions of dollars that have been put into this seaside development. see, while we were sitting in the airport a man was joking with me about hurricanes. he said that if you're stayin on the outter banks (which we are) and there's a hurricane- well, there'd be no reason to try and survive. imagine, if mother nature falls into a certain chaos- all the bazillion dollars that will have been spent- and lost.

anyways. i was just thinkin.

a conversation, much like one we've had before, drove me to pull out a cd that i was trying hard not to listen to. but i pulled it out anyway and listened to it, and it made me feel like i did before- and i have to admit- made me a little afraid. not because of how much i felt, or what it was i felt- but perhaps of how much i admitted without looking in your eyes.

Standing on the beach- underneath the stars, watching the waves roll upon themselves. The sun had gone down hours ago and the orange moon rose and climbed high into the sky turning bright white before where it lies now. I wish I could describe the lonliness that I feel when the moonlight bounces off the water and consumes me. The clams among the shells become my company. The sand between my toes and the cool breeze blowing through my hair completes the scene.

I turn to check if you're there, coming down the deck stairs to surpirse me. I guess I know better...
but I also know how to dream.

well- to my delight- this house is complete with internet!

okay- i really am addicted. :)

i miss you-
and i would write you but there's eyes coming my way - can feel them eyeing me- wondering how on earth i can be doing this instead of all the other things to do... but i am going to comeback some time later this week and post.
man... living like a rock star for real!

well, packing the last of my- "necessities" for my trip into a tiny suitcase- which will hopefully hold everything... i'm just waiting for the last load of laundry.
i think it is going to be good therapy, being away from the internet for a week. it's quite terrible actually, i know i'm addicted... and perhaps a week will remind me that i don't have to check if maybe, just maybe someone posted something in the last hour.

well, back to business,
and a fairwell until next week.
heres to ya, and happy trails.
thanks for you.

curling up into my safe state of mind- i restart the parts of my brain that froze up a while ago. i focus my eyes on a tragic love story of two star-crossed lovers (the new one) all the while shoving all my crap off my bed. strange and dark thoughts (oh happy dagger take me, too. ) pass through my mind. frusteration and stress make it so i can't believe this cave has a illuminated end. but i have no desire to end my days, even if i have to blast the rock open myself, (or if nothing else, go back to the entrance).

i feel lame for complaining.
hell- i'm going to spend a week on the coast. i'm not unlucky.
just frusterated.
tired.
and going to bed.

a moment to brag- if you don't mind.

i'm leaving early saturday morning to live like a rock star for a week. it's pretty sick actually, it being the house we're staying in. we're the second famliy to stay in it, and it's ours all week. it's a five million dollar house complete with 8 master bedrooms and 6 full and 2 half baths. there are three whirlpools and a hot tub ouside. there's a indoor pool (complete with waterfall), not to mention its on the ocean. and if swimming gets old there are 16 tvs and a mini theater inside, complete with reclining movie theater chairs. And should you feel so moved to go take a look (if my bragging didn't give you a good enough idea) and read about it: Go to http://www.carolinadesigns.com and go down to where it says "search by property number" under "View your favorite property". Look at "#913 Utopia". The pictures aren't our house but the description is. If you click on the "Home Floor Plans" link at the top of the page, you can see the layout. Pretty awesome.

okay. i'm done now.

Give people the latitude to be themselves. You would want someone to give
that to you.
  -- Sara Paddison

i am not one who intentionally makes assumptions. i work really hard at leaving expectations and formulated ideas in their original place of creation. although lately i have been finding repeatedly that there's one assumption that has become more of a reality. if you tell someone something you might as well assume it's going to get published. it's going to be spelled out, written about, described, summarized by the person you confided in to the ears, eyes or heart of someone else who may have heard your name before. like your good friend and brief affair bashing your head in over some weed and whisky... saying things they "may not have truly meant."
but none-the-less, my character stripped of all emotional comfort.
making it easier to say nothing at all.

SLUMP
this blogger thing has changed a lot of how i see things... mainly the people within my immediate world, myself included. i find glimpses into what might have caused certain things, like shining scales on the emotional bodies swimming around me. giving me some insight, some hope, that maybe i can understand, or be understood.
this gives me a chance to view the on-goings of their lives when i am maybe not fortunate enough to hear from their lips, and to view the written words spoken from their inner thoughts to those things i might not hear either.
i often want to respond... and yet am stunned as to what there is to say, perhaps just "i read this, thought about it, learned from it, and left it."

and so it goes, everyday. wondering who's left me something to read. something to drool over. something to make me think. something to make me sad. something to make me sick. something to make me happy. something to spark my own mumblings on this page.

lips to glass, tounge to beer, smoke to lungs, and to mine, too, i fear.
the man at the door made sure i knew it cost more to be sober, i just nodded, then paid my dues ($8, a few deep breaths of second hand smoke, and bells in my ears).
i was watching ya'll let go of what life has delt you- you open up, let go, give in, suck down.
the music was absolutely amazing, moved right through me.
the company was amazing, too. nothin like an old friend to raise my spirits.

what a night. just what i needed.