so this is the new year

Each new year starts with so much hope, hope that our dreams will become realities. Hope that that one special person will look our way with a little sparkle in their eye. Hope for the new job. Hope that you can quit smoking-- Hope that life doesn't fucking suck like last year.
We raise our glasses in those last few seconds, search for a kiss, and wave goodbye forever to the old year. Then we look forward into the face of the new and somehow see what might be. We stumble hopeful into our beds in the afterglow of champagne celebration and sink soundly into our dreams-

-Then we wake up.

everything is exactly the same as before.

The list we made to better our lives slips behind the desk lost. The vows we made as the ball dropped drop from our minds to that place where ever they go... those things we forget about. And life goes on.

-THIS YEAR CHANGE-

Nothing will change if you don't change it. Do something different. Start a new hobby. Go to a new coffee shop. Ride your bike. Learn an instrument and play it super loud until people complain.
Whatever you do, do it better than last year. Work harder. Play more often. Call your mom. Don't date that girl you know you shouldn't but you're a dumbass so you do anyways. Most importantly, be YOU.

This is your year.





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awake

Well I have spent the last few months traveling and painting and NOT writing. It is time, I think, that I get back on the pen. Many thoughts and ideas have passed to sleep with me every night and my brain is full- ready to explode.

lamp, bracelet, 2-4-2, hair

hummmm-

its there in her head, never ending, tonedeaf, dead
it buzzes without pause
it dims the yellow sneaking out of the small lamp by the side of her twin bed

on it she sits wearing nothing but covers, and the one bracelet made by her lover
it is silence, but it is so loud
the digital 2-4-2 stares at her as it has for what seems like hours

is it in her head, beneath her matted hair?
or outside behind the dark curtains?

with every bit that still exists, she shuts her eyes to sleep, counting each and every awkward sheep
if boredom has a voice
it is here now with a hum, talking from the deep

yellow birds

She sits by the door. Its old oak frame supports her thoughts as would a tree hold the very small nest in its’ safe mothering arms. The dreams flutter in the silence beating their tiny memories, playing a vision that dances on the sky blue walls. Nestled in between two knobby roots, one small delicate finger trails the hem of a flower garden in pink and blue. The petals smell real but feel like corduroy. She leans back into them feeling their warm tender hold and listens to the whispers ebbing like the tide back and forth. She is drunk. The sweet wine of yesterday is fully alive- hot in her blood. The bottle lays broken and shinning, reflecting the sun like a kaleidoscope. Like stars. They travel their path up the walls and across the sky marking time slipping away with each little yellow bird. Singing and playing. She studies their every shape holding them in her mind. Each time they seem to be a little smaller, a little less brilliant. Eventually they are replaced with squawking ugly things. Lumbering and Black. And the garden turns cold, dark. And in that place lit not wholly by the moon, she sees more clearly. What was early, sweet, is now just a memory. Neither cold nor hot. And the garden under the oak tree is just a sad girl in a frumpy dress, knees knobby, sitting by a door. Cold and alone.

I need a change. The more and more I write, or read, or paint, or listen, the more and more I just need to stop doing everything the way I am doing it and do something else. Maybe this is an extension of my life, just hating the feel of static, or im finally turning the bend away from my sanity. Or maybe im just bored.

I need something.

Im going through a weird phase in life that transitions me from a rambling, nomadic twenty-something into an adult with responsibilities. I cant say for sure but I think that it is time anyways.

This could be just the thing I need.

just a thought

Today I was lying on the floor with my head spinning. That very drunk kind of melting through the floor into the depths sort of spinning. And I got to thinking, is it weird that while im here with a headache that feels like a horrible mary-go-round, I am actually spinning around in a space rock we call the Earth??

Im flying 1,040 miles/hour like a top boomeranging around the Sun.

The Sun, what the heck?! The Sun is a star. Like all the lights you see in the sky at night, twinkle twinkle and all that business. A nuclear furnace 27 Million degrees with gravity so strong we, along with any number of space crap, including planets, asteroids, comets, ect. are dragged around it. And its not even a big star.

Back to me lying on the floor.
Mind blown.

I checked the all powerful internet to see how many stars are in the galaxy. No one is sure but, about 200 to 400 billion. Our sun is just one of these. AAAnd there is anywhere from 100 to 500 billion galaxies. We have no idea. We can only guess.

Back to me lying on the floor.
Mind blown.

How did all this happen I find myself wondering... Its all so BIG I cant wrap my mind around it, its just numbers. Science says it just happened in an instant, BANG!

So does the Bible.

Back to me lying on the floor.
Mind blown.

If you take one minute out of your busy life spent walking, eating, sleeping... whatever you pretend is worth your time, and think about your God and his...

Awesomeness,

for lack of a better word, your reaction cant be anything less than to fall to the ground and...

Let God blow your mind.