day...day whatever of this bullshit,
yet i mill around it all the damn time.
has it really become so irritating
that everything seems
to remind me of you?

at least this audition's over.
no cues to prepare for,
less stress for me, but
more sadness and emptiness
ambush from stage right.

and at least i'm not stupid,
i knew--yes. i definitely did.
something so weak with no support,
no foundation,
just words and sharing body heat--
sweetie, you know that things like that,
they don't last long.

i'm not going to describe this
as another cliche "learning experience"
or "character building lesson."
no, it's more simple than that,
a coward with selfish intentions
bruising another heart.

this charade's finally over,
and i'm forcing myself to
not give
a
damn.

sleepovers

i think one of the first times i spent the night at someone else's house other than mine was with my childhood friend jordan and his sister amanda. i was i don't know, eight? my sister was with me, but that wasn't at all comforting. we were there either it was someone's birthday or my parents wanted to get away from my sister and i for a little, i don't remember. i experienced the expected symptoms of homesickness-- anxiety about when my parents were going to return, being afraid of the dark (but at least there was a night light), sleeplessness, being uncomfortable on the floor, being self-conscious about whether i was going to sleep with my mouth open, or breathe too loud--typical feelings of someone who's never slept somewhere other than their own house. but the thing that bothered me the most was that i was sleeping in the same room as a BOY. you know, the other gender who don't have vaginas, like playing world of warcraft, and think that girls are way sissy. it was understood that at my age that yeah, i talked to boys and was friends with boys, but come on, sleepovers with boys? weren't either of our parents concerned that some sort of late night antics were going to occur? maybe the fact that we had all known each other for a really long time and that jordan was outnumbered three to one was a huge deterrent, or hey, maybe that seven year-olds don't go around feeling each other under the covers.

this pseudo-catharsis is really about how homosexuality is totally ignored when a child is raised. well, i suppose it makes sense; why bring it up to your kids that there are some families that have two mommies or two daddies? how do you explain how that came about to a young person? you tell me. all along i knew that if i wanted to invite a girl friend over, that she was allowed to sleepover at my house. but if i ever desired to have a boy sleep over, no dice. at that young of an age, i didn't even realize what menstruation was, or that people have sex to produce babies. at that age (unless you parents were extremely liberal), as far as you and your parents are concerned. only heterosexuality exists because that's what's normal, that's what's accepted. life to me was that your mom gets pregnant (by miracle, of course), your birthday comes, you grow up and go to school, graduate, get a job, get married to a man, and then raise your own family and then eventually die.

i'm pretty sure watching tv or some other media source was the bearer of good/bad news.roundabout middle school, that's when i realized homosexuality, and other LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer) orientations existed. the homosexuality "lifestyle" is really nothing new; the biblical area was apparently aware it existed because the bible discussed sodomy, so that's some 6,000+ years already that men loving men and women loving women have been around. why shroud this in mystery, or pretend it doesn't exist? is it because my parents were so disgusted by two people of the same gender who chose to be intimate with each other that they chose to not acknowledge it to my sister and i, seemingly never, or was it that they were ignorant about the LGBTQ community? was it that their parents never talked to them about it, therefore they chose to do the same with my sister and i?

thoughts?

death death death death death death dying death dead dying dying dead dead dead.

three of my most hated words in the english language.
i've wished death upon others, myself--
i've realized how juvenile that really is.
it's too bad that
death has to occur
to make you realize
how important living is.

love love care kindness
love unconditional love.

on death

sadness must accompany happiness,
chaos among tranquility,
cold with the heat;
the old versus the young,
the timid and the bold;
the juxtaposition
and twisted harmony that these
opposites have in life.

death gives way to birth.
mourn a life whose legacy will
be hidden away with time,
but not forgotten--
celebrate new beginnings
for new opportunities and
future endeavors.





david,
i am sorry for my empty promises;
i will never live that down.
the blood tests are over,
the poking and prodding is no more,
the hospital stays have ended,
your body no longer has to waste away to nothing.
you are no longer sick,
but you traded your life here
for one with good health.
rest in peace,
dance for me,
serenade the masses--
we'll be listening for your guitar.

i love you and miss you.

so yeah.

writing comes to me at the strangest times. i am laying down to go back to sleep at 11:30am, and then i get this idea for some prose, and i HAVE to get up and write it or else i'm going to lose it. aaaaaaaanyway.





to a failed connection:
we spent almost a year together
traipsing on a teenage life's sine curves
with the highest highs, and the lowest lows.
being a part from each other now has
allowed me to learn, meet new, wonderful people,
allowed you to grow, venture onto other things.
i can't help but still feel that
i still care about you,
wonder what you do from time to time,
that you are well and content--
your lack of communication
shows that you
don't extend the same wishes.

it's been awhile

i just thought of the crappy emo stain'd song that just came out. but anyway...



the past three years have been the most shameful, embarrassing, maddening, upsetting, depressing, deafening, involved, chaotic, surreal, unreal, empty, hedonistic, foolish, yet enlightening years i think that i will have ever lived. so many memories of me fucking up, me accomplishing things, me fucking up again, that stupid cycle. but for now--i feel as if i'm living in the best time of my life--something that i have not let myself feel or experience for awhile because i was trying to guard myself.

i've had a shield of anxiety that's defended me in all the wrong ways; it was giving me awful feelings of worry, racing thoughts of things to come and things yet to come. why so up in arms for so long? i was a product of believing lies, loving all things deceptive, a subject of abuse. it feels as if i've had my lungs filled with air, holding my breath, and i've finally been able to exhale, and inhale fresh air again. and it feels absolutely wonderful.

"i've never been in love."

i would say that at fifteen.
at a year later, that would become false.

i've been in love once.
this kind of love i was once in
was naive,
fun,
honest, lustful,
inquisitive, laid-back,
stressful, happy,
chaotic, upsetting, desired,
comfortable, depressing,
passionate, needed,
yearning, and
gave you that butterflies-in-the stomach feeling
that made you wish
that you could lay next to
your love in bed
for the rest of your life
and--
to get kisses goodnight and good morning.


i don't know what love really is anymore.
passion? care? want and need with desire?
a blend of these things?

i profess "i love you!" to friends,
family, people i care about--
but that is not the same type of love
that you share with
one
other
person.


i'm scared to find that type of love
that i had once before.

too much death,
not enough life.

birth, life, death, sadness, love, repeat.

pictures

mandatory evacuation for scripps ranch.
oh great, i think, let's brace ourselves for round two.

packing up pictures is what made me cry yesterday.
images of kristin and i smiling when we were younger,
hurriedly sorting through a drawer,
and putting them into a box and
trying to think of what else to bring.
my dad called--
i asked: "what do you want me to pack?"
not clothes, not toiletries,
but those pictures were what he wanted first.
"there's a drawer under the bed,
you know, on the side; i want you to pack
those pictures of you and your sister when you were little.
take all the pictures."


but all is safe and well for my family and i,
i am so relieved.

for the people in rancho bernardo, escondido, encinitas,
poway, and other areas, call on anyone and we will be
right there.

today--

i haven't written in quite some time, i just kind of feel like blabbing for a little.



today is sunday the 21st of october, almost about the same time four years ago that the cedar fires happened. today i was with my friend jenny, driving down the 101 from san luis obispo headed back fro san diego. today i found out that there were more than a handful of fires in southern california, one of them possibly affecting my house and one of them i was able to witness destroy a hillside. today is the first time in a long time i'm actually scared.

the wind outside is howling, my room is becoming more and more aromatic with the pervasive smell of smoke. driving back home, it was unreal to see the ocean and sky as one color, the sun blood red, and tiny little pieces of ashes flutter down onto the windshield as i was driving. it was nearly apocalyptic, seeing the sky so dense and darkened with smoke.

oh my god, who knows.