That Thang in 2018

 I wasn't all about it...not really. But we do have desires, created for the pro. That part was only 10% unsatisfying. (Go ahead...curse me out into your pillow...although it's a crazy compliment coming from a man like me, haha).

Why was I there that night? I want to word this differently but there are so many versions of me and only 2 of you as one with knowledge like mine might see. Maybe all of mine are shallow and your 2 lack a shallow end, idk...you did denote you were down for whatever. I think you were curious enough to "venture out" (as you stated I did, not saying that wasn't true, just, well...timing sucks and I couldn't say no to a beautiful woman; sub parenthesis: *beautiful...I've confused myself before but see clearly every time before I break a heart; 2nd sub parenthesis; you have no ass...perfect to other men in the chest, but never has that held me back from diving into a soul, and *yours*? I think i could swim in for a lifetime, if only for...) but your "venture" was for just that..curiousity. Mine was much different...*much, MUCH* different. Part of it was that I needed to see if I could love after all this...shit. And it appears only I control that.

I'm not going to respond to the passive aggression (yes...you're passive aggressive, which is annoying but only slightly as I have made my synopsis akin to..how do humans say it? Cute?) as I know there are things about your information and outbursts and impatience you left incomplete like a girl playing jacks with the biggest boy on the block with no moves of your own. I'd say secrecy is a good bet when it comes to me. It's the only thing that confuses the empath screaming in my ear the truth of a situation. With time I've learned to not insist on that voice in my heart while I know the soul i built ebbs away for the same ignorance.

That night...seedy green...un-weeded pockets of lawns wearing signs of life for desperation's sake to beg a traveler to come nigh and abide a night or two...smoky room although we said non-smoking. ...,...,...that was *NOT* what I planned. Brandon Boyd begs you're an Anna Molly (listen to the song, Babe). It was a weekend to try and garner the wisdom I needed of more ancient things than what I "know". I was still in love with her....,....,...and I should have told you. I didn't want to take the risk of losing you, my bad that I couldn't trust you with the information. You wont ever make sense with knowledge of both sides of the beautiful mess of this and will spell everything out here to be your own comfortable reasoning to cut this off, you having no blame at all...much like a man to a whore (but *all* women do this, just cant be wrong, which at this stage is also "cute"). And I've been a man-whore (NOT to you) so I get the entitlement. You'll tell yourself things to make your mind and heart at ease so you'll be able to move on. And I'll watch as you do, making happy mentions of your newfound love. Maybe it will end the same but for different reasons..who knows these things? But that gross hotel was not the plan. You interfered, you *had* to be there for the show. I cancelled the show to be with you..switching into a former version of myself I buried long ago.  I'll be honest, it was hard to take you seriously after that, which I'm certain the feeling is mutual...we all want things to be perfect and make sense. Had I had my show, maybe I would have learned from the rocks and trees and dirt what I am capable of and why...and I will again, but will we make it that far? God, I hope so.

That night...was NOT...how I planned things to go...with *you*.

Coincidental note: That Wal-Mart trip was better than most the women I've been with. I know that doesn't give you any relief for pride-sake, but it means something in my world. Last time I had that much fun was playing hide n' go seek with the soulmate that beat the shit out of me (again...not much for you that precipitates flight ability from happy thoughts for you but I fly *high* on that shit).

I *did* step out...I took a chance..with the perfect person..for *both* outcomes. And did nothing to manipulate the situation other than not risk hurt...which is everything.

For that, my green-eye'd anomaly, I am guilty of all sins. I could only be resolved by you at this point which I'm certain you would offer forgiveness for said crime. However I know I would never have the *real* you...the one that has made sense of what little magic I've spelled for you is really nothing but parlor tricks on Main or The Boulevard. I wont tell you there's more because that would make you curious..and your daughter is too inexperienced to advise you against taking another risk (FUUUUCK..JUSSAYIN...SHE WOULD *LOVE* ME, and I her)...I look too familiar to men that hurt other women in the same way (GOD I only wish you would live life a bit more in the mother position! But that might be my misunderstanding as well...again, who knows?).

I *don't* accept a finality. Nor do I truly wish you off to a better life for the best you could have is with me. But how does one(I) ask someone(you) they are potentially in love with (I to you), despite the apparently immature bullshit they (you, both sentiments) are throwing around without a mutual conversation, to just...*please wait*...to wait. i started things at the wrong time with you but i had to see what my heart was capable of. AND DAMNIT!! i *want* to love you....i honestly believe that i do. But i need time to wrestle my heart over the lies i've told myself about Pamela (yeah...no more indirect words). The mysteries unsolved..the questions she now will never answer...I need them to be laid to rest without the satiation of an answer (which i *SO* need but have the will to decide they aren't worth it). But im not there yet...and i could never ask your innocent soul to be my safety net. 

This is not an argument, of which i've enjoyed ours. This is not a "reply" or a rebuttal as i'm not arguing against any of the several (*damn* the way your mind works is...intrinsic, but younger; sub parenthesis; naive would be too far, it's somewhere in between, i'll leave that there) points of view in your final letter.

There's so much more to be said here but damnit....be released...not saying i wont  knock on your door down the road. This story has just begun for me and you are not just any woman...to me. i should stop moving my fingers...and i'll probably never post this, nonetheless it belongs here...in the virtual world, forever...

Remember...

Taking time, for a few minutes...i want to savor something.

It might be years in the future..or tonight...we might just get bored. Like a lull between two massive ocean waves.
I've been in those type of storms. They take the sun and sky from you all at once. They take you from the highest you've been and plummet you to the deepest you'll be, for that storm...and funny thing is, you *never* move an inch forward or backward.
You just wait.
All portholes closed.
All doors latched.
All sails tied.
Keel drawn.
All rigging secured.
Many call it "being at the mercy of the storm.

I call it waiting.

There's nothing you can do about it, but wait. You've already decided to be out there..looking at the sky and weighing the possibilities that weather may change. One could say that's commitment.

Waiting.

And the most Lovely thing about it: We'll be together.
Having weighed well the commitment to be on this ocean. Knowing there *WILL* be storms. There will be times when we can do nothing else but let it take us.

In those moments, we'll be together. Waiting for the seas to right themselves.
Because after all, we are not masters of the oceans or their tides and ways. We are only masters of ourselves.
But...we can harness it...we can manipulate it...we can make it work for us.

Remember this.
Remember the highs.
*Remember* the lows.
And remember...to just wait...
And don't worry, you're boy's a fuckin sailor. ;)

The Cure...

There is only one common enemy of man. Only one disease. We seek out the stimulus we need to cure it by many forms. Thus resulting in artificial addictions to foreign substances to an obscene amount. Doctors, healers, homeopathic experts and drug dealers of every sort provide substances that temporarily hold off the symptoms of the most lethal pandemic...the disease of pain.

There are so many things we give ourselves over to. So many abuses we allow our bodies to endure that mask and temporarily set apart the effects of this disease, which none are immune to. The cure..is found in our blood..our life.. None of us need these substances. No one needs the chemical and earth-borne products we take. Our bodies tell us the story, building immunities and tolerances so that we need more and more. But the *cure*...is in our blood...selfless Love. Costly Love. It is the cure all.

My friend in his righteous ways has a street doctor practice. It's formed and practiced in Love. But it (the cure) is not the substances he provides. It's not in the energy he invests in making certain his "patients" are taken care of. It's in the intention behind the products and the services he provides. These are only meant to provide the atmosphere and opportunity for what is inside each one of us to bring about the cure..so the substance is needed no more.
We get addicted to the feeling of "being ok". These temporary medications that give us the euphoria of "being ok" and being at peace are not the end nor the source of our healing. Only portals by which to access the cure.

The cure is in our blood...by the way of pain. Sacrificial Love. It costs, but cures all. We must fight to bring the cure to the surface and tear away the importance of what makes us "feel good", and replace it with Love for each other. This is the only way we will, as a human race, be cured...from all things.
(expound or simplify pk)

Satan's Bane

When angels cut their wings, do we question it? Some mystery inside the pain. When they fall to earth with no common reason related to Lucifer, what then?

They seek the low places, conceal their true identity and stay in squaller. Dark? Yes, but wait..open your mind..you might be one.
They are the ones we are constantly trying to prove to themselves they have worth. But they are never convinced.

They live on their own weakness. Like a heroin or chemical imbalance that brings a physical likening to 'good energy', the most amiable of their human traits. They bleed true, live human lives and suffer, but none as much as they.



They take a deeper path. Maybe lead by divine design, some natural thing, instinct outside of historical (and even secular) knowledge. They find the lowest of places. They are drawn to them. They are drawn to 'them', as those that walk those paths are also mutually drawn (and we wonder why at our darkest times that they are there, right with us..it's a 'sight' thing), why?

Because their taste lingers in their mouths, heartache fills their taste buds. Not in a way of satiating, but intrinsically familiar. The shunned human emotions, things we don't allow ourselves to feel, because it hurts. I think they would ask us,  "Why always feel the elation of life? It's nothing more than an elevated space. Like a balloon full of hot air- no mass- no core- no substance- nothing 'real'."

 So..they become 'healers'. Beings that are structured internally to house pain not their own. Again, why?
Because they choose to. Because it completes them..is that such a bad thing? I was

told when I was young the only thing that matters is righteousness. And while these angels have fallen...they chose to fall. Not for pride, not for jealousy or rebellion..but only that they couldn't wait idly by any longer while watching humans suffer so greatly. Whether due to their own devices matters not. Their only knowledge of Love is what they've seen their entire existence. A perfect Love.


I recently met a girl running from her pain, very well masked. She refuses to see that facing it helps more than hurts, being only focused on the physical value assigned to it by her mind. Not understanding the working goes deeper, adding skeletal structure and stability to a soul. Depth in the most valuable fashion. She knows i can see it, but stays closed. Knowing deep that I threaten her.

As a Lover? I could destroy her. But as a friend? She...and i, would grow and learn and heal. And we all want the two in one. It's true that i want the two in one.

I wonder if she'll be infected? Or myself...will I lay myself in that emotional hospital bed, waking and sleeping with her, nurturing the wounds not yet inflicted by me. Helping that core in her to shine brighter than the other things meant to drown her light. I haven't felt this warm in...

Maybe angels need human touch...or maybe they lead such lonely and bruised existences because they fail to allow themselves the path they never had the chance to choose. They don't know how to fall in Love. I think she's learned more about that than i...and any fallen angel can only take so much before they succumb to humanity. Maybe she's my angel..and I'm too caught up in saving my world that my own peril is eminent...and she's simply trying to save me..with the perspective and innocence of a child.

Just Letters...

 

Baby!!! Im so sorry i had to book like crazies!! I was so late :/. I wish we could just be off today and just chill an stuff together...like these kids, (haha, riiight???)

 

I Love you so much!!! Im falling more and more and its a good kind of scary because i can trust you...i DO trust you...you are more than enough for me and i need you to know...NEED you to know...there's no one else, not now and not ever. I've found all I've ever wanted..and it all matches what my expectations have painted with idealistic colors in my crazed mind.

 

 

...its you...its you..its you...

You are amazing..you are MY amazing woman...you are mine, you belong with me and to me. I have, i am and i will always fight for you, my dragon Queen
...and there are many magical things to come...many, many...really, really...

Reasons

(press play, read slow)

So...nouns.
Words that represent something that exists. A name of a person. A place. An inanimate object humans make animate by manipulation. It's a funny word that just sounds like pointlessness..or disbelief. Things that are less and less on my mind since i was alive.
So.."they" are assigned value by titles that gained their own grouped definition...'nouns'. I think this designates importance. Whether personal, social or plainly scientific, (meaning factual), i think when a 'noun' is assigned, it gives something importance..like its supposed to be remembered.

And social studies classes give us so many nouns to know about. If one was to open a book, what's there but a story of nouns about nouns. There are even words that have been subjugated to the existence of nouns to dress them up nice. But i digress and come to my question as of late, (late being what's been on my mind since the last tragedy in my life): What is the greater portion? Having a perfect 'noun' or building the perfect 'noun'? (press play again)

There are two sides to each of these, and all that standing on the plank that stretches between the left brain and right brain of any noundividual. Which makes the certainty of an explanation like slack lining over a black hole, the cosmic type. But i'll start here, just for myself. Please keep in mind, reader (haha, "mind-reader"), that this is in non-philosophical form..take the nouns for what they are:

The positives of having a perfect noun: Little/no labor to be done...that's pretty much it for positives. It is either just perfect or noun'else put in the work to make it perfect.
Negatives: Little to no true value per reasoning of the positive. There are psychology references of human behavior that denote simply what we work for we enjoy more. Is this true? I'm looking at myself now:
I have several..SEVERAL successfully completed projects...material nouns in my repertoires that were deemed by other nouns to be either above my skill or impossible. Again, these are successes. And each one in my own way i have celebrated alone. I agree with psychology here..it's a good feeling to look back and see what these hands have made. Some nouns are still being built. (Note to the side: I keep checking my texts to see if she has messaged me).

The positives of building the perfect noun: One gets to know the structure (as one is a part of it); one can add their own character backslash flare; one can grow; one can watch growth; one is free to design as they wish; etc., etc.
Negatives: Much labor is required in most circumstances; often times the true cost is deluded by the hearts desire to create the noun as it is perceived in the mind; nothing in the build is for certain, only the price paid emotionally, physically and fiscally. If i missed any other negatives, you other nouns please shout them out.

There is no point, as in i'm not trying to make one. There are only reasons to go on, or move on...noun from noun, as sometimes there are no adjectives that can color our nouns the color desired. But if a noun is a noun..and we have the will (collective noun for heart/mind/soul) and adjectives to paint...why not build the noun how it desires rather than how we desire? Sometimes subtracting and/or adding noun from noun. All that is required are verbs. Which if looked at from a far, noun could see that all that lies beneath any well built noun are notable verbs. The adjectives being only flags flying in the wind, attached to the noun by yet more verbs.

(So i sit, in my office, this December morning..never pretending to not need help. And i ask where this noun is heuristically...that is an emotionally charged question to ponder..because i MUST know. I must know what new verbs to place under this noun..or the adjectives to use to lay the noun to rest).
Now for the allegory above..a noun for the ponderance: (only if you like, many nouns have not and will not get this far)

I right here.

I write this here because I know no one is listening in this space.
I write here because I can sound off as loud and as hard as I desire to no peanut gallery.
I write here because the fight to keep this personification overwhelms me at times, but not all together.
I write here because the things that look to others as weakness are truly the greatest strengths and I only desire their ears and maybe tears..not wisdom and words.
I write here to keep my friends from being burdened.
I write here because I have yet to encounter someone as compassionate as myself.
I write here because I hear me, and I'm a damn good listener.

My friends come to me in need, and in want. I have chosen this path but it will claim my life before I've seen grandchildren. I live my life in imbalance because to be balanced would be selling the world short of whatever is inside me to give. That is the only reason why I'm here. But human hearts are not built to last long in that reasoning. One man proved that.

My ex-wife has no desire to do me any good. Yet she makes great practice out of insuring everything that goes wrong between us is due to my short-comings. She's really fantastic at it. She refuses to allow my young gentlemen to have more time with their father as they have requested many times over, for what reason? She is in control. She is the boss and I refuse to allow the courts to intervene and do anything. In the back of my mind, I know she'll get her way. She always has..I just want them happy.

I have friends that live on the streets of San Diego. One young man pulled me aside last weekend and made a big deal about it. He asked if I funded the things I do out there by myself..if I was out there just to try and make things better. I replied in truth...yes, I am. he says he wants to be like me. Having not a father of his own, or an older brother, he wants to be like me. He hung out with me the entire evening...why? I cannot venture a clue, but he wants to...how am I supposed to take that? I'm simply living my life, anyone reading this would never understand the subtext of that statement..because we don't Love in this way. I will adopt him, him and I will have many adventures to come.

I have the idea that my family looks down on me for the wrong I've done in the past. The lone wolf mentality that I have lived my entire life...did I learn it from somewhere? Who should know...not me. But when they need, I do all I can to arrive in those moments. Sometimes in mystery.

I was raised in a church that because of my actions during a period of time in my life where I made not very great decisions, I am an outcast. I have no credibility with them. I have stuck out my neck for congregants in the past that have done similar actions...adultery, way before I became one. Knowing their pain they face day after day is a perpetual death sentence that never runs dry of masochism. So why not sound off here? I listen to me.

In this abandoned circus of freak shows past and recurring, I listen here. I need to hear me for what are these problems (even to my own standard) compared to what is in the world? Day by day? And as I write these silly complaints, they already are leaving my waking mind. Just wadding. At least now, I can see better..although, not with my eyes.