Musical Flowers.

Musical Flowers, Musical Birds. Musical People to which music allures.

Musical Flowers larger than I, musical birds, taller than I.

All the musical people I know of and know, All the flowers and birds singing so soft and slow. 

Musical Flowers, Musical Birds. Musical people to which music allures. 

Musical Flowers, you put me to bed.

Music & people all stuck in my head. 

You, my dear are far removed from any bad thought I've had in years

You, my love are near my heart for with you, my love is all but gone. 

This music and these birds have flown around my head, they've pieced together memories, 

I've long thought dead.

Anything I have for which I count as fruitful, is somehow related to you and I can't stop thinking about you. I hadn't seen your face in years. In four fucking years. Now out of no where I see it. I know this wasn't your fault, I know it was all my doing, hell I was looking for your face. However, I find myself so broken by this finding. I am breathing heavily and all music I once loved I now hate. All music I ever hear now is not but poison for me. I miss you but it's nothing except pain. I'm a glutton for punishment, therefore you who punished me the most I now desire. 

Post Afterlife

     In my mind, my pain right now is only explainable in a place that is to come after hell, the worse of the after lives. A place reserved only for people who have committed great emotional and mental sin. I will be tormented on the intellectual and emotional levels like I can't imagine and right now, as she lays so comfortably in my wake, I only want to see her in front of me. So I may hold her and pet her, because I miss her. I feed her and I give her water and I clean up all the messes that she's made but I can't seem to make her see that she would be much better off in front of me.

      In this place, I will receive special treatment from special devils with special training and higher pay than those in hell. I will have no mouth, no eyes, no ears and will have lost my ability to physically feel. I will have no body. I will have no way to express my pain, no way to write about it and never any way to scream or cry. My pain will be kept inside of me with a lock that has no keyhole and never a key for which been forged, so you will never be able to see it and I will never be able to exhume it.

     It's alright though, I guess, I'm nothing more than a boy, thinking he's a man, locked in a cage, pretending not to let my captor's know that I see it. I see it though, and when I am free and I move into post afterlife, I will think of nothing but you. A whole month, wow. This is retarded. That's all I will be able to think. That this is so stupid and I feel so lonely and stupid.

     Say something, because they're all beginning to believe that I've gone crazy. I haven't though, right Jane? you're here, I know you are, because when I talk to you, you talk back and you make so much sense to me. How could you not be real. I've seen a glimpse of Jane in my Post Afterlife, and it isn't very pretty. She is mean and she tortures me so. I'm not sure if I should let her be there for that in the end or if I should get rid of her now. I'll never know. 

The lies.

     I fucking miss you. I'm not going to lie. Not even to myself. In order to truly hold onto a lie and make it true for someone else, one must first get themselves to believe the lie. I don't love you, that's a lie. I don't want you, that's a lie. I don't miss you, that's a lie. A real lie, and I've been believing them to be true for a couple weeks now and I'm so tired of that. Maybe now I can sleep.Maybe now I can focus on one thing. Maybe now I can stop sleeping with your jacket and maybe now I'll throw YOUR jewelry out of a moving car window. I won't though, because I still plan on returning all of it. I have it down to the day, actually. Of when I plan on giving you back your stuff. I hope by then it will no longer bear the gory sentimental value that it does now.

     I don't want to be dead. That's a lie. I don't dream about you anymore. That's a lie. I don't see Elizabeth everywhere. That's a lie. This pain is unbearable, I miss you so much and my belongings are slowly being broken as a result. Thank God I put all of my guitar stuff away, that would have been terrible. So terrible. The plain truth, Jane, is that I love you and I want you more than anything I can think of. I'm just not good enough for you. I hate myself for that, I always will. I'll never be someone that you don't resent sometimes no matter what happens between us. I'll never genuinely want to be cliche. I'll never be able to be strong enough for you and I hate myself for that, I always will.

     I'm coming for you. watch your blind side.

First Day.

Screaming. screaming. Endless screaming. A shit load of screaming is what I'm talking about here. . .

You know like in 500 days of Summer and suffering except with. . . screaming because sometimes I just feel like screaming and for a really odd reason when I type screaming, the word screaming. Things are better for me, in general.

     And when there's no more of that to do I'll stop, look around and see everyone near me, staring at me. Thinking, what the hell is this kid doing? And I'll have to explain myself and people will get hurt and people will get on my fucking nerves. Then I'll realize that all that screaming I did was not worth this shit hole that I'm in. I can't mask my emotions for a prolonged period of time. That's why it's a terrible idea for me to live with people. Absolutely terrible. . . I hate myself so much right now.


So I'm trapped. . . And I've looked every where I know or have thought to know to look. I've yet to find an exit. I'm trapped and you simply won't help me.

I am running out of words to say to you, wonderin' why I'm wasting my time. Thinking back and wondering why I'm such a fool, for loving you.

After reading that line, you're going to think it's directed at you. I'm here to tell you that it is. So just take it easy and know that I still hate you and always will. I really really love his voice and I like what he does with it when he sings these lines. That's why I have it pretty much everywhere. . .

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I hope the weight of what you've done to me crushes all your dreams.
I'd loved you enough to know them but now I know to much about you
you make me ill and you don't deserve that smile on your face or her on your arm

Please don't tell me that you still love me when what you've done is screaming that you don't
No, I won't call and if you still go, I won't be there, no, I'll never show,
but wait all night if you want to, I hear they have a lovely quiche there.

I hope the weight of what you've done to me crushes all your hopes and dreams and I, I hope you think of me when you're at the bottom of your valley and the shadows are darkening to shades of black you've never seen before or even known existed.

Please don't tell me that you still love me when what you're doing right now, what you're doing right now. I see you, you can't hide a thing from me because I did love you and I did know you enough to see the moment you lied to me for the first time.


         You're making me cry. I'm crying at this moment. Right now, I'm shedding tears. You keep reassuring me, but it's not really working. You've just informed me of something I previously didn't know about and I'll be honest, it kinda sucks. I thought that, since you loved me and junk, it wouldn't matter. I thought. . . that was my mistake I guess. I think to damn much. Please spare me the trouble of your words, girl. I don't need you at all, never have, never will. What we had, well your side of it at least, was always a lie, I can't believe you could try and tell me other wise now. I know everything, girl. I know where you were with him. I know who he was. I know exactly what happened.

       Well it's your loss, I don't want your stupid friendship anyway. . . because that's all it is stupid, that's all you are, girl. Stupid. Why after all the crap we've been through together would you suddenly do this to me!? well I'm done, honestly, I'm totally just done with you. I quit. And if you ever talk to Jane again I'll freaking kill you. If you ever touch her again, If you ever look at her wrong. Yea, I hope you do read this, girl. You need to find out somehow that your life is on the line next time you pull crap like this.

       I've stopped now. The crying has ceased.  Just like my grandmother and you knew that and you took advantage of that and you made fun of me. What kind of a monster are you, girl!? That's my grandmother we're talking about here. Whatever, I forgot what I was about to say, that's how little you mean to me. screw you. And not in the good way.

Chapter 3

     Let me tell you about my school. I love my school, I really really do. I find this odd, I think, for most freshman. Most freshman like me, you know, the band geeks, get picked on mercilessly; but not me. I think it has something to do with the fact that my brother is on the football team and plays alongside one of the greatest linebackers in Texas high school history. That probably gives him a lot of influence in a place like high school, but what do I know? It's always interesting when I see my brother in the hallways of the same school. Especially when he is with his friends because he always seems to be in a very big hurry. My brother is a very smart guy, but sometimes he acts really stupid around his buddies.
     Where was I? I always seem to get sidetracked. Oh yes, my school. It's fairly large considering it is a private high school. It's an all boys establishment and was founded in 1852. Yes. It's old. very very old. The building we're in isn't that old, though it has seen a very large amount of years. It has three stories and is in the shape of an 'L'. The gymnasium is at the end of the hall on the shorter side of the 'L' and beneath it is the locker room. I won't tell you what happened to me in that locker room simply because I think that my brain had the wherewithal to shut it out. I have made a few friends, most of which are composed of my fellow band geeks and a few of my classmates. I don't think very many people here like me. It's probably simply because I'm nothing like them. I know I'm not, I wonder if it's blatantly obvious in their minds that they don't like me because I'm different. Maybe they're lying to themselves telling themselves and others that their not liking me is justified by something that I've done wrong. I'm sure my shortcomings aren't a very short list, but these people, they seem to take every stab at me that they can manage. That paragraph I just wrote was really very run together and it probably made almost no sense to you. But that's my fault. So don't beat yourself up about it.

     My time at school that was not spent failing class or in the band hall, I was outside, when the weather permitted, eating lunch with my band friends. It's an odd thing, when among the band geeks are some of the most highly revered people in the school. Or at least those with the brightest futures. My friend Josh, Asian kid, was of course, a genius. It's funny though because he wasn't one of those Asians that studies the crap out of everything, he was just naturally studious and smart. It balanced out and everything, so odd. Again, I lose myself. Lunch, right. Thank you. One day at lunch my friend, or rather acquaintance, Rene thought it would be a good idea to throw some of his left over food at the outcast seniors sitting on some bleachers. After he did so and was promptly returned the blessing, he got really upset, punched one of the seniors and was expelled. It was funny though, because I love seeing people be so irrational. Yes, it drives me to tears of frustration on the inside. I have found that it's much easier and more delightful for me if I just laugh. At everything. So I do. So I did.

     That afternoon after school (about a week in, maybe two), I met her. It's funny, I hardly remember her name because to this day she is simply "her". In my phone, in my journals, in my e-mail contact list. Just "her". Brianna. That's her name. How I met her is extremely unforgettable, especially how much we used to laugh at it later in our friendship. I was sitting in the Band Hall at the tables listening to the band practice and I remember seeing her earlier, walk in from across the street at her school. She was talking to one of my other friends Vince. He was a sophomore and he quickly befriended me, because well, he was a nice guy. So I see him point at me and then they exchange a few words and as he puts his trumpet to his mouth and inhales, she walks towards me.

     Her words are barely audible over the 40+ member band in a room that barely houses us all. She said, "Hi! Are you David?!" I, stunned that this beauty was addressing me, muttered, really whispered.
"Yeah, why what's up?!"
"My boyfriend Vincent asked me to ask you to come with me to the corner store. He says it's sketchy and you're pretty cool."
"Sure, let's go!" I said with a smile, not even letting the boyfriend comment harm me. I didn't care. I was in love.

     After we got out the double glass doors, she introduced herself and we went through the niceties of fellow band geeks. The instrument, the voice, the desire. After that brief, slightly aided introduction, we were nearly inseparable. She was beautiful. Her light skin and thick, dark wavy hair made my skin tingle and as we walked I remember thinking how perfect her profile was. Surely an odd thing to think, you might observe, but I didn't and still do not care. She made me happy to be where I was, instantly, and that's all I ever look for. She is beautiful and I love her. Loved. I meant loved her.

Numb.

     To have all of my nerve endings and emotions just stop. To be torn to pieces and still feel as one.
     To be crushed by the weight of you and not even know your name.
     To stare at the sun all day and still be able to see clear.
     To have no knowledge of what I did the day before, much less ate for breakfast. If anything.
   
     I want to be but not feel, I want to eat but not taste and I want to see but not understand. I don't want to die, not yet, because I know that even though you will never know how wrong you were, I need to be around for the day that I become what I want. I need to stop. I need to breathe. I need to repair; re mantle; reevaluate. Hysterical and useless, hysterical and let down and hanging around. Crushed like a bug in the ground.

     I'll take an unheard prayer to be my freeing verse.
     I'll be a beautiful day, that is, one with your hearse.
     I don't have time to be your sole, only to say that I am done.

     I am burned out and I don't even know why. I've no reason to be and I can't even begin to think why I would be.

     I hate you without feeling. I want to kill you and not care, I want to curse at you and not feel remorse and I want to tell you to your face all of these things. I hate you. I fucking hate you. This is say in a letter to myself I fucking hate you, David. I fucking hate you. Why do you have to be this way?!?! Stop it! stop crying, my eyes burn. I can't. I can't stop, it feels too damn good. Stop it, stop, there's so much blood! I can't. I can't stop. It feels too damn good. Why can't I just I stop feeling? Why can't I just close my eyes to never find them open again?

Not Yet Complete.

This is an introduction to my favorite Relient K quotes. .. I'm basically listening to my favorite songs by them and when the quote comes around, I add it. . . this could take a while. Anyway, Relient K is more than awesome. They were my first favorite band and are still one of my favorites.

If it hurts, kiss it better.
You wear skirts, I write nice letters
Never said nothing with flowers, though we'd always talk for hours. -Jefferson Aero Plane

So reckless for all these years,
I crashed into a wall
there's a ringing in my ears
and It's my wake up call :) - Wake Up Call

Adversity; we get around it
I search for joy; in You I've found it - Pressing On

Never Underestimate my Jesus
When the world around you crumbles, he will be strong - For the Moments I Feel Faint

You'll find mercy, you'll see grace,
love and beauty defined in His face - The Rest Is Up To You

No, I don't hate you; don't wanna fight you
know I'll always love you but right now I just don't like you - Which to Bury?. . .

Today I'll trust you with the confidence of a man who's never known defeat
but tomorrow upon hearing what I did, I will stare at you in disbelief - Let it All Out

I'll let it be known, at times I have shown signs of all my weakness
but somewhere in me, there is strength; you promised me
in time I will defeat this & somewhere in me, there is strength. - Let it all out

The Devil.

Dear Miss Anonymous,
     You're trying to hurt me, but it won't work. goodbye.

Long Live.

Have you heard of the man who walks around his city crying out into the air?
His cries are sad and his walk is filled with anguish, yet no one seems to care about him.
It is said that when he goes home he's happy and his wife and kids say he's perfectly normal.
I think that he's found his tree and taken refuge in the shade, forgetting the people around him.
He does what he knows he must to be happy, and he does it in freedom.
Good for him, who has found his key to happiness.
Long live the man who is free in his own mind to do what makes him happy.

retrospect

You're like little children with plain white sheets playing make believe and trying to scare me
But it all fails and without a solution we've moved on to our next big problem
I know, I know; I've got to put my head back on my shoulders. Maybe this time I'll do it right.
Or maybe this time you won't cut the yarn on my kite.

You swore this time we'd do it right, I swore you meant it and I thought it was plausible
The myth was busted once before, but we kept on repeating the same lame experiment
Without your comfort and without your gaze I've found myself in this dreadful haze
I'm missing your eyes and I'm thinking it's about time to start again.

Now we're both little children with plain white sheets,
playing make believe and oblivious to the world outside.
We've had no intrusions and we've moved on with our lives
I know you've found a place on my shoulders. Maybe this time, we'll do it right
Or maybe this time we won't have people who tell us it isn't right.

I swear this is what I want. Do you swear this is what you need?
I swear I love you. I swear I love you. I swear I love you.

I'm so sorry that my mind's uptight, it's worse for me, you see, it keeps me up at night.
I'm so afraid that I've lost my way to you who loves me.
I've lost my way to you, you who loved me.
And now so far from where my heart is, I have no home, no family and no friends.
It is only I, who once, I thought, hated you. And for that, I hate myself.

Ambulance

Do they make healthcare for emotions?
Can we take sick days for emotional turmoil?
Will they send me a circus to make me smile?
I've got to get out of this place and with the flashing lights
and exempt license plates we could move so very fast, if I were in a red and white ambulance.

Not to mention the sleepless nights and the tears I've wasted.
Not to mention my failing social life and all the blood I've tasted.
Don't get me started on the mess I've made inside my mind and underneath the shade
of the biggest oak around. I'm digging to bury the memories that we've made.

I've never  been inside a red and white ambulance,
but I'm sure with all that training they've seen people like me.
I'm tall and fed up with my apathy
My hair is curly and dark, always looks like it's dirty
my eyes are brown brown brown, and I've always got on a frown.

I've got to get out of this place and with the flashing lights
and exempt license plates we could move so very fast, if I were in a red and white ambulance.

Chapter 2

The next thing I knew, I was still just sitting there with no one around but a stray cat and the occasional car. I kept wondering, why the hell is no one looking for me? It's one in the morning, I'm 15 years old and my mom isn't wondering where the hell I am? The reality that I was being a selfish bastard struck me in the face and caused me to cry once more. I couldn't breathe and I scared my only friend, the cat, away. I stopped sobbing and straightened up. Slapped myself in the face and said big boys don't fucking cry, Fred. I knew that was a lie though, men that don't cry are just liars and hide their pain behind muscles, cars and sports.

     I got up, dusted off my pants, put the pack away in my pocket and started walking home. Under the bridge I just got stares and a few offers as opposed to the scatter that took place beforehand. I preferred the scatter. Once out from under that hellhole I closed my eyes and breathed in the cool night air. It was really a beautiful night once I stopped letting my crappy emotions affect my own physical environment. The moisture on my face made it cool when the wind blew and my hair tickled my ears. The stars tickled my soul and the moon lit up the night more brightly than I had ever seen before. At least I knew God cared about me that night, but was that enough to stop the ensuing years of self torture? No. 

     I got home. The yelling had stopped, the T.V. was off and my mom was at the sink. She didn't say a word though I know that she heard me. I went to my room and found my brother at my desk. He asked me where I went, but he wasn't mad or interrogative, he was just wondering. I told him I just went for a walk and without another word he just got up and left. I sat on my bed dumbfounded, wondering why the hell my mom wasn't wondering where the hell I went, or why she wasn't out looking for me. Why hadn't my dad called asking me if I was ok, why wasn't my mom sitting beside me on my bed asking me if I was ok?
     I feel like I'm being given half support here. Like only the left side of my life is being supported by my parents. They tell me not to do something, or they tell me to do something and then they don't tell me what to replace it with. They curse me for doing bad in school and can't find enough breath to tell me congratulations for anything. They tell me how to live my life and to make the tough decisions and then leave when the toughness of the choice surfaces in my life. I know God has not and will not forsaken me, but damn it, I'm lonely and I'm sad, and sitting in my room after having gone through what I went through alone. With no one that said they cared about me around. I couldn't help but feel betrayed. What the hell am I complaining about, though? I have my parents, I have everything that I need, although I would give it away to be able to control my own thoughts. I'm at Rock Bottom here. You have to understand that for me, it's a real place. I can feel it and  I can smell it. It smells rotten and feels like the bottom of a worn out, rotting wooden boat. My soul sneezes uncontrollably when I'm in this place because it's allergic to the apathy that I have when I'm here. I hate being here. I'm looking for you, actively and when I find you, you'll see that I'm begging for you to come take me out.
     As that night carried on my mom didn't speak a word to me. I don't suppose she knew that I was being torn apart over the matter. My mom would never let me go through that if she could control it. Too bad she didn't know that she could control it. As I laid there in my bed, alone with my thoughts, I tried oh so hard to forget that night and forget about the fucking pain I had been feeling for the past three hours. Your memories though aren't written in your mind like a pen or permanent marker, they are carved in with a knife. They never ever leave you, no matter what you do to make them go away.
     I fell asleep thinking about Ashley and trying to cheer myself up thinking about band tomorrow when I would inevitably see her. I love band. Almost as much as I love Ashley.  

Chapter 1

Dad is a mean fellow, I've been told I have to stay away from him.

I was paralyzed in fear as I heard the yelling. Paper thin walls made everything worse and my hands can only block out so many decibels. I don't know why the hell they were yelling - my mom and my brother. All I know is that I always remember my mom telling me to just stay away when my brother was mad, because he was bigger than me and would kill me if we got into a fight. Or so she warned me.
      So this is me: tucked away in the fetal position in a corner of my bed, all blankets piled on top of me, hands pressed hard against my burning ears, tears flowing down my face and soaking my bed. I'm speechless, making no noise, only the pitter patter of tears on the floor every now and then. I couldn't take it any more and the time of night offered me an idea. Just leave, were the words she told me. Just leave. So I did.
     I cracked open my door and dodged a bullet of words he was yelling and I saw it. I saw the door, it was dead ahead and would take me about ten steps to be out of it. I pondered the thought of trying to sneak away but this house is so small and the floorboards are so old, I knew that I would be heard or seen. Instead I just bolted and before I knew it the cool, humid Texas night surrounded me and beneath my bare feet I felt the decay of our old, poor neighborhood's roads. I crossed one road, just a house down from mine and looked back. I could still hear them. At that moment I thought and wondered where the hell my dad might be. I hadn't gone far enough, so I walked a whole other block to a very busy street and considered crossing it, but opted to go under the bridge to my right instead.
     As I walked under the bridge I smelled the scent of pot and saw many people scatter. I suppose seeing a rather large teenager is a suspicious thing to see for a bunch of pot smoking homeless people and Jane always told me that suspicion leads to fear and fear, in this case, leads to people running off. I walked, still bare foot, mind you, to the pharmacy on the corner and sat down on the curb and sobbed with my head on my knees and my hands on my ears. For a long time I sat there crying out into the parking lot. Then I couldn't cry anymore and I decided to people watch.
     Let me tell you about people watching in a shady neighborhood like mine at 1 in the morning; it's horribly sad. The first lady I really noticed looked to be about 60 and she was all by herself driving an old beaten up chevy truck. One that had potential but was very poorly taken care of. Now this lady was beyond her years in looks, she had this sad look about her face and she dropped her keys countless times before she was finally able to put them in her purse. I think she was drunk. Anyway, she went inside and came out with a carton of cigarettes, a bottle of whiskey and every home and garden magazine you could imagine. If that's not a loneliness package then I don't know what is. I felt so terrible for her, and as the door closed behind her, we locked eyes and she saw a tear and my eye and smiled at me this very soft smile, then I swear, I saw a tear in her eyes and without a word she got into her truck and drove away.
     The second man I saw was probably about thirty and looked to have just gotten out of a very tough day at work. He rolled in on a chopper and parked on the sidewalk right by the door. He was already smoking a  cigarette and so he just sat on his bike for about three minutes and was just staring at me. Of course, I was returning the gesture so it didn't really seem too odd to me. When he finished he limped inside and then came out a matter of seconds later with a dirty magazine or two and, you guessed it, a carton of cigarettes. After he had promptly stuffed them into his backpack, he got onto his bike and asked me where my mommy was. I told him I was very capable of living without her to which he simply laughed, threw me a pack of cigarettes and rode away.

Ripe

I can't tell you why I'm not happy right now. Nor can I tell you why I am happy.
I can't tell you what color her eyes are, Nor can I tell you what color her hair is.
I can't tell you why I love this song so much nor can I tell you why it makes me feel so terrible.
I can't tell you why I think the way that I do,
I can only tell you that I think that I wish I knew.

I can tell you that I've never felt such a need to cry before now.
I can tell you that my throat is dry, lips are cracked and there's a slight burn in my eye.
I can tell you how frustrating time is when it can't decide if it's fast or if it's slow, and
I can tell you all these things that are simple, nothing more than facts that I know.

They don't change anything about my life or yours, though, they don't mean anything special and in the small moments where we feel like more words equals more meaning, what have we really gained from them?

I'm brittle and I tremble as the wind of your judgmental gaze comes towards me.
I am ripe with words to say, but they just rot and fall away. I have no real retort and I feel at a loss when you just talk and talk and talk. I guess that's better though because then I don't have to say anything back to you. I can just let you babble about useless things that have no positive meaning, or no power whatsoever to either of our lives.

Without you

My thoughts are scattered about like an MC making it rain

My mind is lost; I guess that's why they call it scatterbrain

too little too late, too much  for such a loss
I thought I had me figured out then I met you
You talked a lot about the future and where you wanted to go
I nodded my head so politely trying to not make this scene a whole show

I have a cardboard box at my feet and it keeps me up at night
It was filled up in no time and is nowhere near light
It's full of what we were and it reminds me of you
Too bad what we were makes me insane and I just can't

Fight it anymore I've lost everything but my music
And I guess I'll digress but not until you digest
that I've been searching in my mind and heart to find out how I'm supposed to live.

without you.

Stuff

Oh you poor confused girl. I told you you didn't need me. I knew you didn't need me, but it was the thought that you did need me that has made you react like this. A good friend of mine told me that you don't hate me. He also told me that there are a trillion better girls out there. I don't care about that though. Your words were hurtful and I don't believe that I deserve them. If I did deserve them or not, the simple fact that you said them to me, makes you the immature one, not me.

Agape. Agape. . .
I love you, I thought that you would understand. Obviously not. I'm sorry that this happened. I did not intend do cause such a stir of emotion.

Jesus

In Mind

Am I sleeping with my eyes wide?
Am I sleeping all alone?
Will I wake to find you waiting by my side?
Does what happened yesterday even matter?
Is there no peace to find for me, although I've tried?

No more rumblings in the sky, nor the people who all ask why
I'm sick of answering your questions you and everybody else who knows not of me.

but still, you insist and you carry on and on and on, yet I've found the way out
to die to everyone but me, and I've lost myself in here
but after all that's the goal I had in mind. The goal I had in mind.

ya know?

So on my wedding night, when me and my wife dance for the first time while married, I was wondering what we were going to do during said however many minutes that we are dancing. Will we talk? Will I spark a conversation? Or... Will we say nothing? If the mood is set to where a conversation would be appropriate, I was thinking earlier, what on earth to talk about.

     I was thinking something along the lines of. . . "Hey, we're umm. . . married, hu?" Or. . . "Wow [look around] I can't believe this is all for you!" And then she would say "Me?" pretending to be all innocent and act like she didn't want exactly what was going on. . . I don't know. I don't remember why these thoughts decided to come to my mind I believe I was watching a movie, although now, I can't remember which movie it was. I like movies, that I do. Anyway, I was. . . thinking like I do way too much and it occurred to me that it really doesn't matter at the moment and actually. . . when the time comes, we probably won't say anything. I don't think I'd want to. I mean. . . I just like being able to do things like that and. . just do them and not necessarily talk, ya know? yeah. . .I know. . .

Felicity.

     Felicity, you have haunted my nightmares for the last time. I say to you now. I am truly free of your haunting memories and betraying ways. I am free of my past and therefore free of the burden of you. Free from all of the suffering, pain and sleepless nights you brought upon me. Felicity, you, who will never ever read this, you, who are the reason I am the way that I am, the reason that I've spent the last two months writhing in pain and struggling to live in my own skin. You, felicity, I am free of. I am free of the guilt of what you said I did to you. Free from myself, who told me that I was worthless and that all the times that I failed aren't a match for all the times I've done anything worth while. I haven't even done anything in my life. period. How can I be a failure or a success yet? I'm not even a man by this world's standards. I will be soon though. Very soon, and if I don't have anything to show for it when that day comes I will then be past the point of no return.

      Felicity, I saw a picture of you today. On purpose, it was. I actually saw like three or four and what I noticed about all of them was that you were smiling. This and only this I have to say about that: I'm happy for you. You deserve to smile. What you did to me isn't justification for the things that I've wished, hoped and even prayed would happen to you. Forgive my silly, hurtful and sadistic mind. It is that mind that has been my downfall in the past couple of months. I know though, that when I can grasp that power and use it for good. It will be that mind that will take me where I need to go and eventually where I want to go. Felicity, I don't hate you. Felicity, I love you for what it's worth.

It's helpless. Or was it?

This is my way of saying goodbye,
'cause I can't do it face to face,
so I'm talking to you before it's too late.

No matter what happens now
I won't be afraid, because I know
today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen.

There is no end to our pain as is,
I can't help thinking this could have been stopped
but we were so young and we screwed up
and if this ever blows over
just know I didn't regret a single day of us.

No matter what happens now
I shouldn't be afraid because I know
that you love me and I love you
so what's the point in worrying.

For a minute there, I lost my self

For I minute I forgot where I was
I had a lot to think about
but no time to act it out.
You see, I think about us when it's least convenient for every one else
and when I think about us everyone else just disappears into thin air.

Stop right there and look into my eyes
girl of mine, my one and only please be true
to me and when you look at me like that
you better be ready for the night of your life.

Hmm. Something I thought or. . wrote. .  No, thought. I thought of the first like three lines like while I was around doing my stuff, then when I sat down to write it, I like. . . just kept on writing. Any way it's kinda mediocre, and in case you didn't know, I play music sometimes and stuff. So this is kinda like a song and junk. I have like you know and idea of how it's supposed to sound in my mind and I think it sounds pretty freaking good. Anyway, the sad thing about my music career is that I spend way to much time writing, I mean not TOO much time, but most of my time so, as far as music is concerned, my creativity far surpasses my skill. Which is really really depressing. I don't like it at all, I wish I would have pulled my shit together in the past when I started learning music, when I was like 7, Now, I would be able to like play anything that I thought of and I really don't like it. I hate it, actually.

     For a minute there, I lost my self.

Comfortable silence

Help me, call a doctor. Put me inside. Put. Me. Inside.

I want to go inside. I want to be alone with just a pen and an endless supply of paper. I won't though simply because I can control myself just enough to not be legally insane. I love a few certain people and honestly I want to be with them but like Urma Thurman's character, Mia said in Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction " Why do we feel it's necessary to yack about bullshit, in order to feel comfortable? That's when you know you've found someone really special, when you can shut the fuck up for a minute and share a silence." Enough said on that subject.

Lately I've been dying to find someone with whom I can spend said comfortable silences with. I have found no one as of yet. I had a few candidates, but I can only think of one person and that person isn't here. That person is so much more than just not here. That person is straight up gone. That person is lost without me and with out a we, recently, I've been lost. I'm lost to people lost to hope. Lost to what's right and what I'm supposed to do in order for me to be, in your eyes, alright. I don't have enough elbow space, clear that, move that over there, what's that on the desk? a fucking piece of hair? Well, Freddy, you are a human, you do shed so just get focus up and get back on the topic. Where was I. Right. I'm not really lost. I'm just at a loss. I don't know WHAT I want to do. I've found the road to right, the road to want, the road to what I need and the road to what's indefinitely wrong. Which will I take though? Which will I end up on? Which will end up being my source of
pain, or comfort. Of love or hate. Of happiness or sorrow? Of you and me, or there's you and there's me.

     I think about that dream all the time. How she was just standing there and then it came up and tried to sink it's teeth in her throat. Then she was gone and her face fused with his and it's teeth we long and dark, like a day where clouds are gray and rainfall knows now bounds. It's out of bounds, against the rules, the way you look at me like that. What have I done to you? I don't owe you anything. You don't know me for anything yet you look at me like this land is free, well maybe this great country is, but this is my house, bitch put your eyes somewhere else.

That is all

Broken

I can't cry. . . So once again. . . I can't sleep.

when you have insomnia. . . I can literally quote this entire movie. 

A tear just fell from my eye. . . literally. a single tear. It was heavy, it welled for a long period of time, undisturbed, on the bottom eyelid of my left eye. *Take what I am about to say at complete face value for it is complete and utter truth* This tear though didn't come from roots of any sorts of emotions. I'm sick, you see, and my nose is raw from sneezing and wiping, my throat dry and my eyes have burned for a good amount of time due to the fact that I regularly practice stopping my sneeze. So my tears, usually provoked by matters of extreme emotion have come forth today without a drop of such emotion. not a drop of emotion for a leakage of said tear drop. . .

I've awaken to find no peace of mind way too many times. I've gone to bed with all hell aloof in my head. I've dreamed the dream you've only dreamed of having a million times. The nightmare with the same attribute, one more time than that. I can't sleep from fear that I've done the day that just passed all wrong. I've done it all wrong and I can't help but think you knew it all along. I didn't even mean to make that rhyme, but it did. Underneath the light is blue but when I look up and I see you I've lost all will to fight and my fears just won't take flight. They won't leave me be. What am I scared of? I don't know. I'm not scared of my future. I'm not scared of tomorrow. I'm not scared of yesterday. I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of them. I'm scared that I don't know what to do RIGHT NOW. I want the answer for right now, not the solution for tomorrow. I want an explanation for why I cry at night, not for you ti tell me it WILL be alright. I want to be with her, is that too much to ask? Is it too much to even think of wanting anything? Is it selfish to not be completely selfless? Am I wrong for not always being right. Is this world black and white? No. It can't be. It isn't black and white. I'm in denial. No I'm not. see. . . I am. broken.

for your eyes only.

O.K. O.K. This is me breathing. Telling myself *sh sh sh sh sh* it's all going to be O.K. because that's just what happens. I'm scared, Jane. I love you, yes. I know you love me. That is also a positive, but can't I be allowed, just a little bit, to be scared? I've been writing a  lot. A lot A lot. More than I ever wrote to you and more than I've ever done anything else in my entire life. And it's only been like two days. Jane's gone on an adventure or two. It's very very interesting. I am rather proud of myself. I don't think you'd like the way I portray her though. It's very. . . Not you, to say the least. Speaking in code has been my forte as of late. I've been reading a lot. I've read two books on the subject of psychological and one on the subject of screenwriting. All in about one week, all very interesting and all very educational. I. Love you Jane. I love you so so much. Please don't forget me. I know you won't. Don't say anything on the subject, please just let me think a little bit. . . Still thinking. Sorry. I won't be done talking for a very very long time.

Wishes and lotus flowers

Click here. please. now. please. or else. please

So Thom Yorke is a genius. This I and I'm sure, you, already knew. That video. He's a creative genius and his creativity knows no bounds. Not normality. Not other's opinions. Not anything. And thanks to this he is famous. In the combined months of February and March, out of ten shows, only two of them aren't sold out. And we're still in January.

     I wish that tomorrow could be two years from now.
     I wish that last Sunday could have all been a horrible nightmare that I woke up from to find that that day was actually absolutely amazing because the coming upon of knowledge that what you just experienced isn't true has to be way more amazing than anything I've ever felt.
     I wish that my hair would be the perfect length, jet black and straight.
     I wish that Dublin Dr. Peppers were a national thing.
     I wish that Whataburger was a national thing.
     I wish that Glenn Beck would read my blog.
     I wish that for all the stupid stupid things I've done there was someone that could, almost magically, erase and forgive all of them. . . [Granted]
     I wish that my nose wasn't so freaking raw from sneezing. 

     I wish that I could shower every hour.
     I wish I knew her name.
     I wish that my ability matched my creativity.
     I wish that maybe one day, you would just. . . love me and we could be perfect.
     I wish that felicity would leave me the fuck alone.
     I wish that Janey (not to be confused with Jane, the love of my life, Janey is what most would refer to as their unconscious mind and state of being)  would go die in a hole
     I wish that all people's intelligence didn't come with a curse of sorts.
     I wish that this song would go on forever and ever without the need of a repeat button.
     I wish mom were here.
     I wish I could be with you
     I wish I was stronger.
 
The lotus flower was the ancient symbol in many Asian cultures for sexual purity. 

Jane - warning.

I had a dream Jane. More of a nightmare really. One that occurred in my consciousnesses though. So, a daymare? I suppose that would suffice it. I was in that place, between sleep and said consciousness. I'm sure you've heard of it, I'll call it inter somnos, Latin for between slumber. Any way. Not too long ago while inter somnos, I was immediately forced to a complete and irreversible state of awareness. I sat on my bed, indian style with my back to my headboard and for a long time let the pain of my bad knees wash over me trying to vacate my mind of the aforementioned 'daymare'. I was thinking of the movie Shawshank Redemption and the scene where it's the day to be paired with the night in which Andy escapes and he makes Red promise him that he'll go to that place, find that rock and stuff. Anyway. He told him of how him and his wife made love under the tree. Immediately thoughts of you and I flashed into my memory and I couldn't breathe and I forced my mind to stop. I don't know how but I did. This is truly what torture is. Being reminded of something you can't have simply because someone else says no. Not only am I reminded of it, but I remind my own self of it. I do so even without the want to or the realization that I am doing so. Once again I ask you: what's in a name? For I, who is still called Frederik does not act like the good ol' Freddy everyone so much loved in the past. I have not been myself. I regret to inform you of such a truth. The fact is, though. That's the truth.

Jane.

What's in a name, that a rose, should not it be called a rose, would still smell just as sweet. Or. . . something like that. High School drama was a long time ago. No, not cafeteria drama, we didn't have a real Juliet and I wasn't Romeo, naturally born with all the Shakespearean lines already in my DNA. Although that would have been cool. Like drama, drama. The elective, the not quite band geek (which I also was), but still definitely not popular crowd. I promise you, unless you go to a High school dedicated specifically to art, the drama geeks aren't the jocks, like in High School Musical. No, I was a nerd on many fronts, the music, the acting, the intelligence, the books. I got caught reading the Ender's series and all some guy saw was a picture of a futur-ey jet looking thingy. And there you had it, I was being made fun of. . . for reading. Hey, I'm Frederick, I don't play sports unless forced, I don't go outside, unless raining, and I don't mind sitting at my computer or behind a book all day long. You know what though. I can make more money doing what I do with mediocrity than you could make doing what you do unless you're in the top 5 percent of the nation. Another thing, I don't do what I do with mediocrity. You do. So make fun of me for the next five years. Please do it, it will make my glorious success in the future taste that much more sweet.

Jane.

Jane,

     Thank you for respecting me. I wasn't planning on talking to you, either. I would very much like to be friends in the future but please note that the future means. . . Well, never mind. I'm sure we'll be able to asses when it would be O.K. We will be adults by then. I would, if it is o.k. with you, like to know the details of everything that happened since Monday morning. I know they must be hard to bear and hard to relive but I would appreciate it greatly. In the mean time. There is a place where you could hear my voice any time you wished. Let me know if you want to know where it is. I can't wait for the day that we are our own people and we are not controlled in our private lives. I hope. I hope like hell that you won't be taken. Not that I want you to wait for me, but that you will not have found anyone you think would suit the place I once held no longer than a week ago. I miss you. My love for you is dormant, but it's there and I can call on it in a matter of hours. Once again. thank you so much for doing what I asked of you. Thank you. so so so much.

Jane.

I do wish to be with you. Your friends though. I must steer clear of. Forever. I think of what they must think of me, even though not true, and It irks me. It's embarrassing. It's painful. It's terrifying actually.

So like we had talked long before, I will wait for you to come back to school. we're graduating soon :) And if you come back, I'll know for sure that we're going to be together forever. If I can't see you, though. I can't be with you. So please, come back to school. Leave me be, otherwise. I'm sorry, this is just how it has to be. I do indeed love you.

4 minute warning

Dear Radiohead... but mostly Thom Yorke,

     Your songs stir up my emotion in the most sincere and subtle way I can possibly fathom. Not just the bad emotions when the song you've written is sad but the good happy ones as well. I never lack when I listen to your music, I can always find a song that you've written to suite my state.

Four minute warning -  " This is just a nightmare. Soon I'm gonna wake up, someone's gonna bring me 'round. Running from the bombings, hiding in the forest, running through the fields. Laying flat on the ground. Just like everybody standing on their heads, running from the underground. . . I don't wanna hear it, I don't wanna know. I just wanna run and hide. This. Is. Just. A. Nightmare."
     Something nightmarish has happened. I've gone numb or I've been pushed into disbelief that reality is what I am really experiencing. The music is in a major key. There are some accidentals but for the most part, it sounds Major. The lyrics though, they're sad no doubt, so this song really gives me a chance to explore my depression without getting too far into it because of the major sounding music.

Scatterbrain- "Any fool can easy pick a hole I only wish I could fall into. . . Somewhere I'm not Scatterbrain."
     Title says it all.

Nude - I get nothing at all from the words in this song but the music makes my heart flutter. It. breathe. It just. makes me. feel. It makes me. . . It grants me ability to function without thought.

All I need - This song lists things that only need you. You being a general statement for people, but then, at the end of the song states that "... I only stick with you because there are no others..." meaning, to me at least, that they have no choice but to need you. So don't feel too special.