Thursday, September 22, 2011

....All This Is Just Temporary...

I remember writing the different pieces from my past. The emotions that I had felt, the desires, the fears all resonated from within the pages. When I can't sleep my mind starts to work over-time in the worst way possible. The lines become blurred and the individual thought processes bleed over one another. These processes grow wild and before I can begin to sort out the nonsense I am already consumed.

There are so many ways to describe the feeling. With each there is certainly a true relation with varying degrees of relevance. Some might say it feels like trying to get up while others push you down with full force and you never get up, others may relate it to drowning, falling, that nauseous feeling right before you throw up. My favorite is Driving a car with a blindfold on.

Everything is coming at you full force and the only thing you can really do is brave it out. Hopefully your vehicle is as good as your conviction and you're driving an armored truck. Regardless of the damage you will most likely arrive at your destination with minimal scrapes and bruises. I can relate close to this but the story is never about the scrapes and bruises, its what causes them. The imagination is never as tame as reality. We prepare for blows that will surely bring the chapters of life to a close, all for it to really not be that bad.

This is a very good reason why I love getting tattoos. The reality is that there are needles that are perforating your skin over and over to feel almost like  a constant consistent scraping. I have done it plenty of times and I still get amped up, because we don't know.

We have the idea but it is very rarely the same thing.

But once the tattoo outlines and so on are on their way, you get used to it and it's just another thing.

Currently I am exaggerating my chest piece sensation which has greatly stunted the growth of that plan but sure enough I'll come to find that it wont be that bad.

The point is that we never know what hand we are dealt for each coming day. The natural rhythm eventually lays itself out and we walk the beat.

It is very important to understand the balance between the two ideas; the perception, and the reality, because it does say volumes about the character. I think about cassette tapes and it comes to me that we can waste our time just fast-forwarding through the content for that destination song and then end up missing it altogether. We are so used to the DVD/CD/MP3 format of just skipping to the next scene and getting away from the endurance trial of listening to the songs that you didn't find on the radio. It always good to accomplish something. The music flows and tells a story of our lives. Much like the decisions we make are testaments of who we are.

The bottom line is that the reality shows us the role of an act in a timeline, the perception is obviously an exaggerated scenario but the criticism comes from neglecting the fact that it is very real when lived first hand. The first kiss scenario comes to mind because it is the most basic of instinct with outlandish perception. For a man with any sense and a caring heart courts a possible lady to be there are a wide array of the end results and whatever the girl is left to assume or believe is beyond my own scope so this is all about the guy in this example.

Side Bar: I am sure there are plenty of people that date just to pass the time, but I think it is ridiculous to ignore the fact that dating leads to relationships and marriage if it does graduate to such a level. We meet someone and based on their personalities we try and see how the lives can merge into a beautiful union, and that is what dating and the beginning stages of a relationship are really, a trial to see if this is the Man/Woman that I will spend the rest of my life with. But I digress...

The poor sap finds himself in a position where he is out and about with the girl that has caught the twinkle in his eye. He is having a good time, he is himself and she's laughing. The date is going well. Time drop her off at her place and the whole time you know that she is someone you want to explore life with. You want to kiss her but you're afraid. The reality here, saying the date went well, is that she is most likely feeling him too since she agreed on the date in the first place and has hopefully has had a good enough time and feel comfortable with the little cute elementary peck on the lips. However this is not apparent to the guy in question, he is already thinking about the worst case and best case, and there in lies the problem, there is only one best case scenario and what seems like and infinite number of awful wrap ups. The most trying would be the awkwardness of mixed signals and that is never pretty.

The point is that the 20-30 minutes it takes to wrap up the evening comes with the daunting questions. Sure you'll come to find that you had nothing to worry about at all but the journey is wicked, and that balance is very important because what we are willing to go through is never disclosed information, and there is very little that we can do to communicate. So we weather the storms, keep a sunny disposition and trust that everything is going to be alright. When you find yourself in a situation that you know is going to be a big part of your life there are never doubts and the "trouble", just like the tattoo needle all just get lost in the process, and you enjoy the fruits of your labor. That is something no one can take away from you.. Just breathe and stay calm and remember.....

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Monday, September 19, 2011

When I was younger I used to always cry during stressful times. I got my first suspension in 3rd grade for a fight I didn't even get start, or for that matter, participate in. I cried whenever I thought I was in trouble, I would whimper in the corner as the impending doom came upon me like a gavel on its stomp.

Somewhere along these stories are remnants of music flowing in between with their fibrous stronghold on the sequence of our lives.

Simply put, the way things were. And all along we had the faith. No matter how hard I cried, I knew I'd be alright.

I think at some point we need to. Not in the literal sense of blubbering on and on about things, but that isn't a completely terrible way to deal with things. It helps to keep reality in perspective, where we know when our will is tested and we fight til our energy drips off our fingertips like the leaky faucets found in poorly renovated inner-city studios.

It's almost liberating.

I remember almost drowning as a child. I was in my early teenage years and I realize now how little direction I was ever given. I had gone off swimming towards the island I could make out in the distance. It seemed to be no more than 90 yards away as I thought about exploring the sands of some hidden passage that led to stories worth sharing. I swam out despite the constant warnings I had hear about the current that pulls you under if you don't swim past it fast enough. The ground under the lake shore had broken off into an underwater cliff and the pull down was wicked. The force you remember as you played with the vacuum taunting the family dog by attacking his jowls.

But I kept swimming. I gently propelled my body towards the island. The shining sun was stronger than usual this afternoon, the sound of children playing in the shallow mouth, the smokey aroma of barbecued Hispanic food, the crisp click of beer cans opening echoed through the trees just like you see in the movies. Through the powerful rays of the sun that pierced the water's surface I could see the abysmal depths I had been warned about, and no sooner did I stare briefly into that darkness had I been dragged down. The force had consumed my legs in a relentless vice pulling me down. I kicked my legs and fanned my arms. I paddled so hard my bones ached.

I could feel the pressure come on. Light at first with a steady escalating weight pushing me down. I could feel the rocky edges tear away at my arms, the slight sting of broken skin has begun to take precedent over my body. The air in my lungs had grown thin. All the while my mind racing through thought-cycles pacing light years per mili-second.

This was it.

So much I would never know. So much I would never experience.

You never really stop to fully understand the fear that goes through a child's mind when faced with such reality. We all think the politically correct way "understanding" children's struggles and always talking about youth and never about what it must really be like to not know but understand that you will never do anything else.

The chapter end here. What have I got to show for it?

In the distance I can hear the light high-pitch clicking of rocks hitting each other from the falling debris. I could differentiate tears from the fresh water tomb. So I kept kicking.

That elevator-door-effect really holds its place as the gradient De-briefing of one's existence. The oxygen had been gone for minutes. I had been holding on like a fool. Barely moving. I shouted with the most primal desire to survive, yet I could not move.

Then all was quiet.

That rapid lift feeling on an express elevator heading up 12 stories rocketed my body, guiding me.

My head shot out of the waters surface like a bullet. The first breath was as harsh as it was enchanting. The shock had taken over, I had barely realized where I was. Splashing around trying to get to my feet. The broken rock had torn my knees up something fierce. As I stood up on the near by fallen trunk, knees bloodied, scraped, stomach in the same fashion. My eyes were pulsating from within their sockets. My skin felt warm being caressed by the sun yet I trembled from within.

I had no idea what happened, But I knew I was gonna be alright.
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Sunday, September 11, 2011

Fuse.

He sits alone surrounded by walls, guilty of seeping light. He's cold and although surrounded by peers of his kind he feels so alone. It hasn't come to mind how long its been. The best explanation fails his thoughts.

the click, click, click of rolling film. The comforting heat of the dimly lit lamp. The passing sounds provide the soundtrack for the evening collaborating the diminishing lines of graphite, soaring through the tip tap through typing. Also what has become the soft whisper of music in the background. Perhaps his thoughts rewinding and fast forwarding.

For a second it had almost ceased. The calm nights tucked away in reveries featuring trysts starring passionately locked lips likely to keep such a promise alive.

And so it was.

For lack of a better word...

Perfect.




Suppose the world could only be communicated through association. What would it take to muster up the courage.  Despite the dangerous ways of nature, as the Sea 's infamy of claiming the lives of so many, the fisherman sets sail.


The alarms of passing fire trucks and ambulances paint the night sky as if the sound could be traced along the stars. The low hum of the realms keep me grounded.

Roll film.

Weeks to months of torment can be seen in seconds to the mind of an insecure man. Years and eternity can be over in minutes. Frame by frame as the plays and re-runs of moments past, analyzed in complete retrospect and the fuse is lit.

The distance grows and I am but a hand grenade begging to be held. Fear me not as I am helpless. Please put me back together.

Yet a second of compassion could have preserved a life worth writing about. Stories worth passing on to children and lovers, friends and family. to provide inspiration, as the single greatest commodity known to man.

Time.

The ultimate challenge to the ultimate combatant. The time to spend, to cherish, The time afforded to discover what can never be recorded in maps or graphs.

The pin hits the floor. Counting down.

7.

It's unbearable to digest the delicate piercing pitch of steel as it meets concrete. A mesmerizing note that travels through the air seducing all within its range while simultaneously deafening the world around while counting down.

6.

The beads of sweat, choreographed to sojourn past a beaded brow of an army of men as the echo of their lives reverberate through space as the plume of smoke rises from cindered ash, providing the single greatest proof of every truth held dear. A walk on the beach, The first kiss, the remnant elements of the day your life became complete, now counting down.

5.

The pulse of time closes to a steady pace. The fabric barely grazes the flesh. The air lathers the tips of the hairs on the nape of their necks softening the mind while counting down.

4.

The heartbeats grow fainter. Beating in unison. In this moment we realize we wont die alone. We don't have to fight alone. And all I want is to be held, please put me back together. I promise it wont hurt, instead they're counting down.

3.

The shrapnel fragments burst in all direction, the original designs for the design come from a man who spent his own time and money to develop the artillery; such a noble way to ensure the defense and survival  while ironically counting down.

2.

The paralyzing fear has already decided their fates. And All I wanted was to be held, to be put back together, to given a shot to be something more, to find the profound in the mundane, to enrich the degraded, and uncover an opportunity to be something more.

Vessels run cool, the last beat passes as the numbing sensation tickles their bones where before it happens you already know you wont feel a thing, the mezzo piano bleeds into mezzo forte and the crescendo of the climax culminates all while counting.....

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