morning

the loss of a friend is a shock to the system.  you have to learn to breathe again in an unfamiliar environment.  you have to weave duct tape and booze into a barrier to prevent your insides from spilling out of the hole in your chest.  most importantly you can’t give up hope that you will commune with them again. i have and i have and i haven’t.

take me dancing! (boom boom boom boom)

was it apparent to anyone else the major flaw in patton oswalt’s facebook post about humanity and good and evil? it is possible that the post was meant to inspire and in that case it did the trick. the trick, however, is on the reader if they are comforted by his words.  he writes:

“But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We'd have eaten ourselves alive long ago."

it is not in the nature of good to destroy.  good is rather compelled to help and nurture.  because of this and the nature of the world there will always be evil.  and while the good may outnumber that evil it is still no consolation to me.  the reason humanity is still here is because never before in human history did evil have the access to extinction-level technology.  and when the tissue is dead both the virus and the white blood cells die, no matter the ratio. 

wow, that was gloomy.  anyone up for some wham! on vinyl?

to be young and wild and free

a few days ago i went back to college for alumni weekend.  it was warm and full of pollen and the buildings smelled like college.  there were no lack of nametags or mammoth tents and the flagstone paths revealed the way to me whenever my memory failed.  i retraced the dutiful steps of an engineering boy and the wobbly steps of a fraternity boy.  as i listened to smashmouth playing live in the quad i realized both that pop music has regressed in the last decade and that my mindset has stayed relatively the same.  i still love the beauty of logic and routine.  and i still love the beauty of the unknown and chaos.  mathematics in fluorescent light and day-drinking in the sun.  training in the morning and stumbling around with random faces from the past at night.  i don’t find these things a contradiction.  

do not open until

there is music reserved for singing alone

there is music reserved for whispering with a heavy heart

there is music reserved for humming while running

and running and running and running

there is music reserved for projecting with the top down

there is music reserved for chanting with the boys

and then there are the junior boys

and then there are the beach boys

oakland zoo

the greatest thing about experiencing grizzly bear in person is hearing the multi-part vocal harmonies start softly and gradually gain strength until they feel like a subtle but firm shove backward. the second best thing is watching and hearing a flute at a rock and roll show.  i experienced both veins of gold on saturday.  i made sure to angle myself so that the shove pushed me closer to the person i was with.  

dilation

when is a couch not a couch?  when it frames a certain space in which time moves at a different speed than that of the ordinary world.  when four arms and a blanket all intertwine like orange-white strands of molten glass.   when the floor is made of lava and the thought of leaving is so absurd that it is immediately gone with the next breath, like a stray eyelash (but without the wish). 

papercut/lovebug

it rips through the skin so fast the aftermath smells of friction.  the involuntary drawn breath ensures that this smell permeates the nostrils.  several moments free of exhale follow like children.  and the inevitable gravity-influenced tear-shaped crimson drops taste warm and metallic.  it’s always deeper than what seems possible for such a delicate thing. 

rat vs. snake

today i received a reply to a message i sent five years ago.  this made my eyes well just a touch.  obviously i am fond of the written word and these words took some serious time and reflection to create.  it was immediately apparent that they were naked and honest as well.  i read the reply first as my 2013 self and then again as my 2008 self, attempting to determine whether or not i’d changed in that window of time.  i concluded that i had not changed (perhaps due to my own stubborn stance on the concept).  but it was amusing to think of my natural responses to those words as both current-me and five-year-younger-me.  for example, with regard to a statement about a nearly-blinding eye infection my 2008 reflection would have streamed, “eye -- lazy eye -- silversun pickups – music video with that girl with pixie hair – i wonder where she is now?”.  but now my mind goes something like, “eye – aye – bands love it when you yell ‘yar!’ at them – minus the bear – cat’s cradle – girl in the front row – i wonder where she is now?”.  

float

i haven’t gotten a whole lot of sleep in the last week.  i am not, though, compressed to the ground with the weight of missed dreams.  instead i float slightly above the earth as my reality has become blurred with the stuff of reverie.  and during the few hours i do get to rest i have a greater sense of peace as the melancholy sound of knife grazing glass (scraping the bottom of the jar for the remnants of something whose color or consistency i could no longer recall) has faded from my ears.  i can see it again.  it is thick and blood red. 

heart cooks brain

my grandma and your grandma

sitting by the fire

my grandma says to your grandma

i’m gonna set your flag on fire

my heart’s the flag.  
every time i pass a mirror i expect to see burnt orange lick behind my green eyes.  

lights down

i recently had one of those conversations where everything besides the other person gets its fader dialed way down.  you know the kind.  light, sound, and time cease to exist as physical entities and become abstract notions.  there is beauty in cadence and in unspoken conclusions.  when it ends and time can be measured again you are astonished by the amount that has passed.  you wonder where it went but the hoarseness in your throat partially answers your question and the smile on your face completes it.  and then, of course, the house lights come up.

h3n2

moving through the day like a zombie

no bend to my legs (that requires energy)

motivation seeps in slowly from panda bear and electronic mail conversations

keystrokes swirl the haze around my brain

liquorice, mango, watermelon -- these are markers

smell my whiteboard sketch and then hand erase

see my condition on my palm

hurray for vague

you are an artful concept, balancing on a fence post, losing your majesty with one sturdy breeze. too many details blow hard from the lips of the novice.  too few suck the meaning out like a fan in reverse.  you make poets of the misunderstood and you make fools of the pedantic.  like alunageorge says: “i don’t need you givin’ it straight to me”.

mental filling

i often wonder about people whose paths i crossed for the slightest of duration decades ago.  the less back story i know the better.  perhaps a cross facial expression or a physical contortion frozen in my mind forever are the only image i have to start from.  filling in the time gap with their own personal experiences and trials and jubilation is a kind of stretching for the brain.  it requires both creativity and a pathological adherence to the notion of injustice.  no one’s fate is completely neutral.  it’s difficult for those of us who like our scales balanced but rewarding nonetheless.   when a snapshot-human’s story ends in death i am saddened.  but every once in a while a face from the past will rise above and contribute something beautiful to humanity.  i am, however, disappointed by most of their choices in life.

damaged film

i remember a day in early 2000 where i was watching a girl and she was watching a guy who was not me and he was creating some half-assed acoustic rendition of a filter song that should have been 'take a picture' but may have been from an album not yet released and all i could think about was how stupid i would feel if he turned out to be richard patrick. in hindsight, that would have made perfect sense and would have certainly validated both my comparison and my general displeasure with the scene and i'm now wondering why i didn't force the issue a bit more.

of course, there is no way this is possible - i'm much younger than richard and he's from fucking ohio, of all places. i'd like to think that i've never seen someone from ohio before the hour of 9pm, or at the very least, that i wouldn't remember the occasion.

ambivalence turns me on and turns me off

i’m changing the record every minute.  i can’t get through a song.  dreamy is burst by raw melodic industrial which is shut down by scuzzy dance.  that gives way to jagged guitar over bass-driven riffs with cowbell which yields to baritone guitar delay-pedaled into surf rock.  my turntable reflects my state of mind.  i need something to push me from my perch on the apex of the roof.  pain or pleasure, either one is better than purgatory.

chance

later this year the iconic monopoly iron token will be replaced with a cat.  i’m not sure i like what that says about modern society.  i can think of few greater pleasures than putting on crisply pressed shirtsleeves underneath one’s vest and running a finger over the peaks and valleys of the elbow-adjacent crease.  perhaps this is more about animal family equality than slacks.  cats have always taken a back seat to dogs in human society and maybe this is hasbro’s late answer to the terrier.  the feline lobby is powerful.  i’m loathe to consider any feminist angles on this because even if the iron is taken away the thimble remains.  plus i just don’t see the world in antiquated sex-defined roles.  i have en vogue’s mandate “be gender-blind, don’t be so shallow!” taped in my locker. i guess i’m just glad the robot wasn’t chosen to replace the iron because when artificial intelligence becomes sentient that would be reason number one to use humans as chessboard pieces.

thimble for life.

hand over your heart let’s go home

my cactus has a single flower for the first time four years.  its petals are both deep pink and delicate vanilla-white. they so contrast the utilitarian prickly green spines that it seems an impossible pair.  such beauty delayed for thousands of days is a form of mild torture not unlike waiting desperately for a glance from a crush. the sheer length of anticipation and brevity of the payoff reminded me of “all summer in a day” by ray bradbury.  when i first saw the petals unfold today my eyes welled.  they are dryer now but i still can’t look away.  

new pop sunday

even though i didn’t care much about this year’s superbowl i still tuned in to columbia broadcasting system’s coverage, keeping it in the background throughout the afternoon.  as i was twirling around playing the bass part to the rapture’s “out of the races and onto the tracks” i noticed ray lewis being interviewed by shannon sharpe.  i took five to pay attention and immediately regretted it.  when ray was asked about his involvement in a double murder thirteen years ago his answer was he couldn’t have been involved because he’s had so much success since then – and his god doesn’t allow evil people to be rewarded.  i’m so sick of morons thinking they can understand the motivations of deities.  it’s as annoying and widespread as townies who pronounce the word “color” like “kyeller”.  the game wasn’t much better but at least there were two things that eased its boredom: kaepernick’s rocket arm and the power outage midway through.  really, though, the highlight was the calvin klein seamless underwear advertising campaign featuring matthew terry.  no seam?  i don’t fucking believe it.

windows down

yesterday it was fifty five degrees fahrenheit at midnight.  one of the many times i woke up during that night i walked over to the window.  looking at the moon and sky there was no indication that it was the dead of winter.  it was difficult to fall back unconscious because i couldn’t wait to wake up and drive to the gym windows-down.  i suppose the lullaby music i picked didn’t help as it left my hair wind tousled on the pillow:  “summertime clothes”, “when i’m with you”, and “an ode to maybe”.  everything is better with the windows down.