i'm comfortable with who i am.

so fuck you.

it's like

i try, and sometimes i succeed.
and i try, and other times i fail.
just the way an astronaut tries to remain sitting in his seat,
while in space.

he can't.
he'll float.
fuck.
because all i want to do is just sit there.
in my command seat.
like any other astronaut.

but i just keep floating.
and he and i... we're similar.
in the fact that his white suit is just as white as mine.

but his gold pins have a little more shine.
and my eyes dance around the dashboard of our space ship.
floating.
fucking floating.

i told it to sit.
and sit damn still in my head.
but it won't.

whatever.

fucking pills.

and no matter how many small chemical imbalances are placed between my brain cells.
and make them selves at home beneath my memories, it will make no difference how many pills i take to release them.
because their at home.
and feel safe among my thoughts.
and each time i've swallowed those white fucking ovals, each small imbalance stares it in the eye and screams bloody murder.
expecting me to do something about it.
but i can't.
mom's waiting there.
watching me.
telling me to swallow.
fucking bitch.

if only, if only.

Van.

We chased the sunset in our silver minivan.
And pretended we didn't see the sly, narcotic handshake between the two bad ass mother fuckerrs on the corner of blank and blank.
And we found the hill Nick recognized from his last travel in the silver minivan.
When he took the picture of Cleveland's fine sunset, among what looked like a slaughter house.
And David grasped the steering wheel with his energy drink in hand, ceasing every sharp turn he could.
And i sat in the worn in vinyl seat, allowing my pupils to relax upon images unknown.
And Van Morrison echoed throughout my ear drums, and i thought about how nice it would be to "fly into the mystic".
However, i'm in a silver minivan with four other bodies, just as confused as mine.
And together we searched for opportunities to become similar, united, somehow connected.
And we didn't realize it, but by searching for the same thing, we were one in the same.
Connected by simple thought and through mumbled depictions and vivid vocabulary.
Part of me feels obliged to say something.
like a topic producer, a conversation starter.
but it's hard to do that when all i can do is think of her.
it's like, finding that one cd in the back of your own silver minivan, that one you'll always love, and never grow sick of.
you know the fucking one.
and each over played track is like a new set of twenty-four hours with her hand in mine.
and we could be minivan-less.
in the center of a foreign utopia.
and the common soul would feel that it would be appropriate to weep.
the perfect time to tear down the walls of the forgotten, and feel cold.
but not me.
'cause i have her.
and she makes me feel warm.

i am merely a traveler.
with dust in my pockets, and you on my mind.
your silhouette acts as the skyline, the city streets are your eyes.
we all just want to see, we want to see.
you light up the surroundings, and allow us to be free.

we're waiting for the moment in which we will be buried.
and as we return to our shelters, labeled with the numerical code assigned to our existence, we close the doors to those outside, and we ask the wind to blow.
to pick us up.
and to carry us away.

we cry, and ask it to set us free.
but instead it gives us a revolution and convinces us this is all a grand allusion.
maybe it's time we figure this out, and call it the end.
but we're just getting started.
and your eyes will never close.
these city streets will always be bright.

and we'll aim for a new place we've never been.
asking the earth to fall to her knees.
and provide our empty corpses a new environment to roam.
and i refuse to see you in my sleep.
your eyes guide my footsteps and oceans keep me warm.
we're saddened by your infidelity.
you betrayed us.

and the streets are dark.
and we cannot see.
you're off in a new place.
being buried.
you waited so long.

()

And it may appear so simple.

yet no one will ever know.

each tangled thread of my existence unravels with your touch.

every perplexing thought, clarified with your words.

you are everything my mind has created through sleep.

and even though you're so far.

and even though my destitution for your body against mine is so prevalent.

you're still so close.

and when i lay on timeworn fabric, 

entangled within cold sheets.

i feel you beside me.

your breath on my neck.

and we drift off in unison. 

each dreaming of the other.

and as i stumble through positions throughout the dark hours,

my eyes open.

and i see you there.

you're soft.

and beautiful.

gentle, yet fearless. 

and i drift off again.

and my mind dances with yours.

it wont ever stop.

it wont ever stop.

i hate shopping.

they all look for new reasons.
new reasons to conform.
new reasons to mold with the universal clay of design.

they search.
with eyes wide, and set for an answer.
with minds open.
but closed from change.

and while on their endeavor, their journey for consistency, i'll watch them.
as they pick and choice.
and look and investigate.

they'll feel each fabric for the correct choice.
and examine every thread for a sign of disapproval.

and i'll sit.
in my worn in apparel.
feeling my way through clues of this and that.

and they don't see me.
because i'm invisible to their eyes.
their too busy searching, ignoring the demise.

but that's okay.
because their pre-occupied with reasons.
searching, searching, searching.              

her pace growing faster.

she covers my eyes as we walk.

she wont hold my hand,

ahead of me... her pace growing faster.

and our walk is smooth.

simultaneously running with the river behind us.

we swam through it together.

but she was ahead.

her pace growing faster.

i sank so deep.

and she swam so fast.

the mass of thawed solid, taking her in.

every inch of her existence.

her movement simultaneously flying with the sparrows.

whose wings were breaking.

but her arms were stronger.

swimming slower, out of there.. out of there.

her pace growing faster.

i floated in the river, and i watched her fly.

she said she would hold my hand when she returned.

be gone, be gone.

and her wing-span was larger than the clouds.

which simultaneously raced with the sun above us.

around her.

below her,

i was.

and i'll watch.

i'll float 'till she returns.

but i wont be there.

i'll grow with the modifications of my surroundings.

fly into the opaque mass.

her pace growing faster.

she'll search for my hand to hold.

it will be with another.

and i wont look back.

..

what if standing still was my only option ?
walking was something i watched, but did not participate in.
how do their muscles feel ?
the legs themselves.
as moved by involuntary movement, forced to participate daily.
or do they decide when their done ?

what if those with a mouth couldn't speak ?
Again watching the movement of lips before them, the grace of sound.
yet do these lips truly desire to dance?
do they long to perpetually move for the sake of others?
or do they wish to stop. to put their constant action to rest?


what if those with ears couldn't listen ?
although these few are restricted from even viewing the movement.
yet they can tell.
when lips are moving, but want to cease.
when legs constantly move, but obtain the desire to simply stand still.
they know.

The Sun, the Stars, the moon.

It's hard to admit you're in love with someone... when you're so unsure if you even love yourself.

yet, when the person you're in love with, makes you feel beyond beautiful, beyond wanted, and loved, then  it's different.

You allow me to feel free, yet safe.
and you make me feel like there's nothing else.. just you and i.

i love it when i look at things, and not only think man, that sure is an interesting painting. or man, these stars are beautiful. But i think about how you would think of them. how amazing you would find the stars, and how intriguing you would find that paint on that canvas to be.

I love that even when you're so far away, when i hear your voice you feel so close.
and i feel so warm. and i close my eyes, and clear the burdens of the day from within, and allow you to capture me.

without even trying, you've got me.

i'm not just wrapped up in the arms of lust and sugar coated feeling.
this is real.

i love that you laugh at me, instead of point out how fucking weird i am.
i love that i can laugh with you, when you describe the funniest of things.
i love your indifference's, because they only make you perfect.

but, even though i'll forever try so hard to convey how much i love you, it will never be enough.
these words will create a flutter in your heart.
and it may linger with you throughout the day.
but normality will return.

however, i'll never stop loving you. ever.
this heart will never stop beating for you.

Sail away with me baby.

there is no sense in pretending, baby break down it's all-right.
your look gives you away.
and you insist on sinkin' so deep, and you say to me baby please
and i say i can't take it no more, and i
break down, baby i break down.

'cause i don't know, i don't know who i am...
with out you.
and i don't know, no i don't know who i am without you baby.
can we just
sail away?
just sail away with me baby.

and take me through what it is you feel.
baby walk me through the vast old fields.
it's all-right baby, i'm not afraid of runnin'.
take me through the night, i'm standin' here honey.

it's all-right.
it's all-right.
it's all-right.

we've got one foot in the future, and one foot in the past.
we're aware of the danger, but it don't phase us.
and we're falling awake, dreaming of our day.
i'm cryin' out baby, it's the way it goes, but i need you because i don't know...

'cause i don't know, i don't know who i am...

with out you.

and i don't know, no i don't know who i am without you baby.

can we just sail away?

just sail away with me baby.

it's all-right.
it's all-right.
you're all-right.

Nothing is Nothing.

Nothing is nothing, and he would say she is nothing.
yet, in november when he waves his cigarette in the air, no longer held down by chains of commitment, he praises the rain.
And i'll pour the sugar in the bowl, sugar then flour. white - pure - virginity.
and mixed together, substances will provide a plan for the afternoon.

We would wait while the sugar and flour coincide, and we would forget what human existence smelled like.
the pine- green - scared and unsure.
and we would wait longer.
he would tell me to wait.
you are nothing, just wait. 
and as the two powders became one, and moss formed over the stove, white lights left unplugged, we became one.
Substances became of order, and he seemed to see who i was.
he seemed to see my whole life, under the eyes of one larger than him.
through the mind of some unknown god, some figure of glorification.

and together we were something.
nothing no longer, yet unsure. like the pine - green and scared.

i wore white- pure and virginal.
and i could hear chanting from the stove.
as if the bricks above it could speak, and tell us a story about life itself.
about sailing ships, and tidal pools.

there are flies in our web, and were crawling with confusion.
were crawling to find out where we are.
it wasn't an hour i could argue, or a minute i couldn't understand.
we fell asleep under blankets and warm sheets.

smelling like pine and dreaming white dreams, of nothing and something.