To the reader before reading: I did not write or own the instrumentals, I just wrote a song to go with the melody. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEWFq1_NVSg For those of you that choose to listen along side reading, the written whistles in the song are there to help you keep the pace I had in my mind. I am not a musician of any form. This just made me feel at peace. The song I wrote ends at 6 minutes and 5 seconds into the melody. Thank you for reading.
10 P.M. (A song for my dog)
Hey
Watch where you aim that big yawn of yours, now
Yes, I know
That the moon is high above us
Sun
Set
whistles
Moon
Rise
Please
Do not let the dreams take you away yet
Just hold on
There are still some things you need to know
Scarred
Hand
whistles
Warm
Fur
Look
I should tell you these things every day
Time is rude
You should know how much I love you
More
Love
whistles
Less
Words
Time
It is measured differently for you
Or perhaps
That tool does not apply to you
No
Wrist
whistles
No
Watch
Wish
Our time spent here was a bit more even
It's not fair
Why can't I give you most of mine
Take
My
whistles
Glassed
Sand
Tears
Of mine roll down your soft fur coat
I'm sorry
It does not even make you mad
Brown
Eyes
whistles
Gold
Fur
Those
Other people don't understand me
Or backwards
My words are just wasted in the air
Blank
Stares
whistles
Turned
Heads
Why
Should I even be thinking of them
You're right here
I got all I need in my arms
Big
Hug
whistles
Tired
Eyes
Thanks
For hearing all that was on my heart
It means a lot
I shouldn't keep you any longer
Last
Yawn
whistles
Curl
Up
Truth
I will love you more tomorrow
Like each day
Sleep wonderfully until then
Chase
Dreams
whistles
Good
Night
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
I have remained in silence and solitude for quite some time now. Yesterday, I encountered Pascal for the first time. I was so moved by him that I decided to murmur from the bottom of the well in which I currently reside. The following is just pointless minor thoughts about him and, the most hated form of writing. a haiku or two inspired by Pascal.
#1
Hands over your heart
Belly facing the moonlight
Back riding the tide
#2
Where do I belong
Does gravity have family
We get along fine
#3
When I look out past the moon, the things I see have already occurred. From the opposite point of view, have we already occurred? They told us to prepare for our future when we were growing up. Our time here is quite short, to describe it generously. I like to think that staring into the night sky gives my soul a chance to get a head start. I hope it isn't considered cheating.
#4
We look up to space
It does not look down on us
But we are noticed
#5
Truth is just a definition. I never took the time to look it up in a dictionary. Every dictionary was originally created by a human. That means somebody was the first to define truth. I think I need to read the table of contents, maybe even the foreword. Who has a signed first edition?
#6
The sea pulls me out
Secrets splash into my ears
The tide returns me
#7
"One pascal is the pressure exerted by a force of magnitude one newton perpendicularly upon an area of one square metre." He wasn't named after the complicated equation. I doubt he even has a water proof calculator.
#8
My rambling will seem utterly pointless to anyone, but myself. Worst part is that I won't even be able to see these from the stars, but I'll still understand my current self at some point. Maybe we can share perspectives, if you ever find me. Please don't search for me, search for yourself.
#9
No double digits
The silence shall continue
Thank you for living
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 5:43 AM UTC
To the reader scroll down to skip: I have been posting from this account since 2012, I think. It is possible that I may delete all of this in the next couple days. I have no static readers, so it won't matter much, and this is not an emotional gofundme with words to stay here. This is just an explanation of choices before me. This is the last place on the earth that I exist. If this goes away, I'm sorry, and I thank you for all the time you spent reading me. Good luck to you all in either direction the wind blows us.
A lot of stuff has been moving for me
People fading and being swept out of my life
Tectonic plates beneath me are sliding apart
Vibrations shakes my bones, then rattle my organs
Tie up as many loose ends as I can
What else can I use to hold to steady
Do I let the maelstrom of inner fire consume me
Do I let clench the earth to keep things together
Do I release my carbonic form into ash to float elsewhere
Do I slide into the depths of the sea with new shackles
Unfortunately coins only have two sides
And I have only one life
That is possibly too few or more than I deserve
Depends on who you ask
All the people I have came across
The wanderers, travelers, lovers, highway men
Minstrels, talking shadows, the shackled, growers of moss
All of them and others that need mentioning
They have no say or choice
I am starting to wander if I do
The scale will tip in one elements favour
Whatever it is, it will be greeted by my coin flip
Rot with dignity or embrace life's next trip
Best part of the result
I am the only one who can read what gravity puts in my hand
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 4:42 AM UTC
If you want to consider this as anything, I suppose you can label this as an open journal entry. To me it is just an anchor to the present, a gift to future me. Please use this in the event I have forgotten everyone and myself. Thank you for wasting your time with me.
In the past few weeks I have been strangely hearing a statement I have never heard before. "God will always take the side of the critters, because he was born a skunk". It may just be a cliche that I have never heard or something new floating on the wind, but that point doesn't matter. It keeps repeating in my mind like a dull shovel through clay. Does this statement explain my good luck? Does my soul reside in a zoo? Have all diced been rolled, is there anything I can do?
For the first time in my life I experienced anger last week. It wasn't toward anything or anyone. I was home alone when I just started to get hot. Felt as if my blood was going to rise as vapor through my pores. A vein in my neck and forehead was clearly visible. Never in my life have I felt real anger. There was two sides in my mind. A scared little animal and an enraged human.Would one half choke the other out? Would some form of divine intervention thwart the human?
After half an hour, it went away. It has not came back since. I didn't want to break anything or hurt anyone. It felt like what a paper jam in a printer looks like. I hope I never experience that feeling again unprovoked or otherwise.
Where does this place me in the universe? Highlight my dot on a map of the universe.Where are you located? What are you? Am I an insect, critter, human, or just fleeting organized carbon? What do I lack to be able to conform with the rest of my generation. Sobriety has given me no answers, maybe it takes more time.Who would want to love such a whirlwind mind?
I am beginning to tire and regret typing this out, so I am going to wrap this up before I delete it all again. To those who wonder if I'm among the living, this is your proof for now. This goes out especially to those also in the fog of the forest trying to figure out anything. Reach out and maybe we can reach the answers hanging high in the trees. Don't let the predators in clothes confuse or consume you. The forest is a vast sea of trees, don't focus or hide around just one. Doing that will only lead up to something finding you. Thank you for reading, and good luck out there.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 7:52 AM UTC
Note to the reader: I give any reader permission to give this to their mother. Your mother deserves better than Hallmark. Although you should write your own, I understand not all have the ability. No need to ask or tell me you used this. Thank you for reading this piece I wrote for my mother.
To You
This isn't for you because this pales in comparison
For all the things you do for me, it is embarassing
Yet you endure me every sun and moon
Despite all the people in this world that thinks I'm a loon
But I don't want this to be about me
This is for all things you do, selflessly, for free
You don't deserve what the world has dealt you
Gold and jewels wouldn't be enough for all that you do
Maybe one day you won't have so many burdens
Or will be properly compensated
I can't promise either of those things
All I have are these words of gratitude
Thank you
I wish I could convey this sentiment better
I love you more than I could ever explain in this letter
Happy Mother's Day, even though you deserve a year or later
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:11 AM UTC
The following is inspired by an item, that was recently added, in my mental emergency kit.
From the gentle snore of the nearest animal companion
To all the minds dozing under flickering street lights
Also for all the eye lids that just won't stay shut
Intended for all the minds too hot to burrow under their blanket
And to those both hidden and lost in the moon's shadow
Tomorrow isn't quite here yet
Although to some perspectives, tomorrow never arrives
The sun isn't shaped to reflect the calendar's date
Just like the moon isn't a paper weight placed on "today"
That reflection staring at you in the water is casted from the present
Its source is also placed in the same place in time
Not every bad memory is here
Nor has every victory occurred
Both types of thoughts square dance behind those tired eyes
Maybe we should forgot about all of those for a moment
Prop up against your safest place
Begin to count the facts
Your imagination is yours and resides where it belongs
I can't be certain that I'll finish this piece or see you again
Your eyes won't catch on fire if you stop sleeping
But you might lose your grip on the torch you bare
Time's representative is never late for your fate
Even if it has to drag you there
When it comes to a mate, you may never find that jigsaw piece
But what is one missing piece to a life sized puzzle
Focusing on spelling piece or peace can make all the difference
Over the entirety of time, it has been spelled both ways
You won't discover a third way, many have tried
Someone out there cares about you
If you can't find anyone, then I must be resting in history
No matter who, where, or what you are or pretend to be
And if you are just too tired to message me to live in my thoughts
Then find a mirror, that person cares
Even if you both try to deny that fact
Your body may reside in time, but it doesn't share many similarities
Time is infinite
Your version of the world is finite
Time keeps going even if your watch battery dies
Your body needs rest
It isn't desirable to live in your dreams
Ask a coma patient
I can't guarantee how much time it will take to get that answer
Breathe out the hot dense air of the past
Cover up to avoid the chill of tomorrow's shadow
Take joy in restoring your only known vessel in this life
And remember that I love you all
From my starry wink to your weary mind
Sleep well, and I'll try to do the same
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 8:15 PM UTC
Even on this soap box do I feel small
What follows truly means nothing at all
Political forces standing arm in arm
Together they chant "vote for me, I won't cause any harm."
Don't peek behind their wall
You won't sleep as well, maybe not even at all
The same named corporate boogeymen rigging the game
What a deal, they get cash and the fame
How about other spots on this rock we share in space
Children working to craft the shoes you lace
The crowned family of the sand gripping the bear by the coin purse
But at least it is cheaper to fill up your hearse
Wait, don't look outward, hold onto your bliss
Things aren't perfect, but they could be worse
Go get burned by the sun or moon light
Grow something from this rock, it is an utter delight
Don't sleep, experience the entirety of night
Leave your mind, temporarily give up your sight
The ground below will dutifully take all your fright
Empty your heart, dump all of the world out from inside
Find an animal in which you can confide
Live as you please, and don't listen to ramblers like me
I'm just talking from the bottom of a cup of coffee or tea
And I leave this purely as proof of the continuation of my life
Now if you will excuse me, I must hide from the sunlight
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
My hair is growing back into a sea
It is about time to butcher my head again
The hair was flowing like water out of my hood in a dream
I woke up with such clarity
For several hours, I existed
But it is creeping back
Wish I knew where it comes from
The air above
Or out of my spine like a faucet
Who turns it off
Who would be willing to blow it all out of my head everyday
I hate combs
There is no style to my hair
It is just a painting of what lies beneath
Dampness is setting in
My body tries to burn it off
A looping cycle
The misty haze is sentient
Or at least I may be
Nothing left to say to this empty room
I'll be one with this mist once again very soon
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
Skeletal frames packed with flesh
Cranial membranes trying to cover the former
I can hear you
I can see you
but not long before I can smell you
One half sees the outside that you have created
My other half sees the foundation that you cover
How can you relate to people when you know them before you meet them
The closed eye blocks out words before I hear them
I don't need comprehension to keep up with your plight
Where are the others that can see through the light
Or is it just darkness seeping like a mist from my mind
I'll just flip a coin to decide if I'm one of a kind.
Déjà vu shakes my spine as I read and rewrite this
But only so many words can I stutter out
Just caught myself rambling again
Just go back to waiting on gravity to bring that coin back to my hand
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
This is the last you will read from my mind
I'm grateful to all the readers of every kind
You never put my mediocrity in the sun light
Years of patiently reading when my mind is a little further from alright
Let's take one last trip together
Just the all of us
Do you believe in absolutes
Latches, laces, or velcro on your moon boots
Space navigation and life are a bit similiar to me
I have never chosen a direction in either
Does my thoughts jumping make you nervous
Then we have two things in common
Always being up late being the second
Seconds, I'm counting the ones we have left
There's something out there
Somewhere in the starry abyss
Hopefully it is some fuzzy creatures
No more dreams, no more panic
Finally can stop being labeled as manic
We are just here to talk about dreams
But where we plan to go is much further than it seems
That's it, that's all
Please let go of my paw
Find your own way because I refuse to share
I love you all and your wonderful hair
My last piece of useless suggestions
Take it slow there is no rush to get there
Please ensure I don't see you soon
Now would you kindly get off my moon.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 3:32 AM UTC