Listen:
I say today is a beautiful day to exist.
You're existing;
you're waiting for the bus in the heart of San Fransisco.
You're painting a landscape of Penn Valley.
You're selling hashish in Portland.

What a beautiful existence!

I'm washing my sheets,
I'm smoking a cigarette,
I'm reading The Return of the King,
and I'm about to go to work.

Listen:
The cars on the highway are going somewhere.
There are people in those cares who are existing just as gracefully as you and me.
Listen:
They are existing just as harmoniously as you and me.
Listen:
They have no idea what happens to them when they die.


I jumped off a forty foot cliff into the Yuba River a week ago and my last thought before hitting the water was:
'Either I'll live and that will be one hell of a jumping rock or I'll die and be free from ignorance.'

Listen:
I don't want to die, but I'm excited to.
I'm more excited to live and I get to see you tomorrow! I get to hold your tiny hands in mine, a barista and a norcal gardener (if you know what I mean)

Listen:
I love you and I love you and I love you and I didn't lie, I didn't, I told you I'd see you again and here we are two hundred and thirty seven miles away and tomorrow I will see you.

Listen:
Praise automobiles, praise gasoline,
praise hip hop music and praise hashish, I get to see you tomorrow!

The Yuba River was my heart beat.
It's rushing rapids and trickling streams my veins.
The fog that lay as blanket on the surface in early morning was my breathe.
The cold and sun touched rocks were my palms and foot soles.

Nevada City.
That little bubble of a town was my home.
Walking down Broad Street made each step I took a joyous jump.
Sitting in the Curly Wolf and the Foxhound drinking espresso to quench my caffeine addiction, always brought the calmest of tones on my mind.
Sitting in Three Forks, smiling at my coworkers, eating a croissant on my break or on my day off, always brought the warmest smile to my face.

The Yuba River. Nevada City.
The people that made me happy and the people that made me cringe.
All of it, I loved and still hold dear.

But, it was time.
On November 17th at 8 pm I buckled my strap and looked out the planes shaky window.
It was time for my adventures to begin.
I was ready to embrace this chance to start fresh.
Oh what an exciting, terrifying, incredible decision this was.
The best I've ever made.

Now, the North Cali girl
Is in New Zealand, Middle Earth, Kiwi Land.
And she is beyond happy!
Beyond joyous!
Beyond grateful!
She feels whole, and she feels independent and strong.
She's in love with herself
And everything around her.

As the Kiwis say...
Cheers

I came barreling around around the corner
in the passenger's seat of a white jeep
that belonged to a handsome fellow
And that was when I saw her
beautiful, furious
fuller than I have seen her in a long time
She was waiting there for me
just as she always is and always will be
she loves, she cleanses, she consumes
Her colors effortlessly paint a smile across my chapped lips
and I am reminded of what matters in this undecided existence
To surround ourselves with the things that make us feel the most alive
-

river trail;
a breeze in every tributary
bend

river trail;
a breeze
(in every tributary bend)

Knee deep in nostalgia
floating across an ocean of melancholy.
Dreams of Broad Street
nightmares of Nevada Union.

Falling in love with you was an often and legitimate experience.

Sitting on the National balcony
watching the clouds shape.
Iced coffee from Foxhound Espresso House
bent paperbacks from Toadhall Used Bookstore.

California, you'll never let go of me.

******, driving Newton Road
the long way home (I always took it).
******, driving home from the Yuba
sun baked but hydrated.
Drunk, making love in the guest room
after sitting on the porch
smoking, drinking, sometimes snorting
later, making love.


God talked to me the other day
at first God's voice was my own
but I've never given my internal monologue too much air time anyway.
When I wouldn't listen God's voice became my little sister's.
God say "full of hate, full of apathy, also full of love, also full of patience, your heart can't take it. Go back to California and fall in love with her again." Laying down in a patch of grass I asked God "Again?" but she didn't answer, she spoke again "full of hate, you must fall in love with her again"
I closed my eyes and God showed me Liam and Lukas and Sam Hughes cuddling together halfway through a mushroom trip. "Love" God said.
God showed me the Yuba river, fit to burst. "Love"
God showed me my mother reading Audrey "Ricki Ticki Tembo".

July was deeply Yuba blue
Reflecting everything white and berry tone
I only saw through it in time-lapsed clouds

August burned through the soles of my feet
orange and red and scorching

But September has come yellow

The poppies faded
yellow

The grass drowned in
yellow

The maples turning
yellow

So I will sit in my own golden California
watching time as colors
and willing Autumn brings kindness
until October comes purple

I crave your touch
I crave your teeth
I long for the voice
that doesn't match your age.

Leather,
thick musk,
your tempting stare,
should you leave bruises
I wouldn't care

I've been told I'm sick
heard you are too,
Could you love the broken
as much as I do?

You're just a fantasy
wish you were standing here next to me,
oh sweet calamity,
you are just a fantasy.

I think about you,
too often for my own good.
You invade my mind
and debilitate  me

Glorious
magnanimous
unspeakable things

I want you to kiss me
during war
while I hold you close

Thinking thoughts about you
when I'm floating in the Yuba Blue

oh sweet calamity,
you are just a fantasy.

wish you were here,
wish you were breathin' down my neck
-tight grip-
rough touch-
chains and leather
fantasies together

too many long nights
with you in my head
impossible
unfathomable
unimaginable
just a, simple, fantasy.

I think you look really nice
too bad for me
I'm afraid your heart's made of ice
as your Ex-Wife would say
you'd never look my way
for the world is cruel
to girls as young as me.

I am nothing but a ghost
standing guard
waiting for you to relieve me from this post
you'd never love me
eye contact would set me free
imagine a world of we...
a silly little fantasy.

Down on my knees
crying out please
I'd swallow
I'd beg
I'd cut off my leg
just to hear you say my name,

just to hear you say my name...

just to feel your touch...

you are just a fantasy
held up on a pedestal
for the poor to see

oh what would life be like
if I were not so young
and you were not much older,
for the world is cruel
to girls as young as me...
would you notice me?
probably
pass over me...

what a silly little fantasy.

Lounging on my windowsill are the two most beautiful plants I have seen.
One has half of its leaves chewed off, the other half are wilting but it is full of life.
It is full of good intentions and affection.
The other is a thriving Cactus Collection,
although they are better classified as succulents. Deep shades of green specked with reds, they are the apple of my eye for when the giver of these gifts is not present.

She is beautiful,
let me tell you,
she is stunning.

I once compared the feelings she gives me to the high of various drugs,
but that sad attempt of expression is a bastardization of how she makes me feel.
Of what she makes me feel.

She makes me feel the entirety of the cosmos painted onto her lips.
She breathes the life of earth into my neck and ***** passion out of my pores.
Her fingertips are a skeleton key to a chest containing any hint of beauty a human could possess.
She is magical, mystical,
beauty personified.

She is an essence.
Of what?
Of moons, stars, and birds.
Of elementary school playgrounds,
of Chinatown jasmine tea.

Her legs are soft beyond comprehension,
like the feeling of silk in a dream.
Her laughter is vibrant beyond comparison but let me try;

With words? I cannot! But with a kiss, I may attempt.

She is my favorite book,
she is French existentialism,
she is freshly cut grass!
She is the Yuba River!
Her beauty is measurable just as each drop of water in the Russian River is measurable.

She is immense and powerful.
She kisses tenderly and ***** wholeheartedly.
She speaks genuinely and loves truthfully.


Their will be no ending to this
because their is no end to her beauty.

the moment on the top of Mount Shasta,
           peering over the vast green landscape,
walking beside the Yuba river,
           bubbling and overflowing in blue and green hues
underneath the willow tree in my back lawn,
          it is reaching down to envelope me.

It is silence.
         more than all the clatter of noiseless gongs trying to prove worth
It is goodness.
         more than the righteousness we believe we have
It is oneness.
         more united than the waters on the surface of this earth.

writing is my ******* bane.

jeweled paws of inspiration
dangle that carrot to keep me running.

wring out the baby with the gray matter,
spool it like spaghetti, slowly get fatter.

i was under the distinct impression
that this habit was too large a vent

until i left it somewhere in July
between the Yuba and a car ride

and never quite calmed down

it's my solace, my oak-tree,
haven in the hellishness,
clarity to ugliness,
Gilead balm,
panacea.

why
should it
take such tolls--
to push too hard
is to turn a deaf ear

my ear ain't so sharp
and my brunt is still strong

for myself
the Yuba's pulse
is that of the scent of coffee
freshly brewed
lightly roasted
early in the morning
in the middle of winter

comfort in the heartbeat
of the community

soon I will drift off
like wood
strong
not seeking
simply floating in the current
rushing through the waves
becoming one with what surrounds me
always floating
nothing will drowned me

Colorado isn't so far away
that my love won't reach those who stay
I'm afraid that I can no longer steep
I'm fresh hot tea, and biscuits!
Ready to eat!

I'm taking a bite of life
to nourish my soul
this valley of grass
no longer my (w)hole!
no longer another day
wishing to move on
it's time to let go
to see a new dawn!

the horizon so bright!
the road awaits my travels
and I await my fate

another day for another friend
no such hurt that love won't mend
I find myself better when I am with myself
so here I go into the world
to feel a new river
smell a new smell
see a sight unknown without fright
no tightening in my stomach
fluttering at best

wings never at rest
sprouting from my back
fueled by my chest
the beating inside
reverberates externally
although my physical being moves
my love for this place, these people
and the land, my love will stand

eternally.

Heat waves and the summer is tangible.
Lazy days
Lazy guitar
Lazy daisy.

You are a daisy,
not mine,
not anyone's.
You belong to sappy heat,
you belong to the Yuba River.

And perhaps we intersect for a reason.
Perhaps our paths cross on a cosmic scale.
And perhaps not.

Laying in the sun,
not a worry in the area,
still, you never met a cooler ***.

And the heat is tangible,
naturally so are your fingers.
You hands were sticky with sweat
and I really didn't mind, I mean it.

I would never lie,
not to you,
not to my mother,
not to god.

Well, mayhaps I would lie to god.
After all, the heat is tangible.

I moved
partly I suppose
to surround myself with
new things
to write about.

I miss
the foothills
the yuba
all my friends
and lovers.

Is that it?
have I doomed myself to write
about what I've left behind?

I close my eyes to the Rockies
and I see the foothills.

I close my eyes to the ski resort
and I see the bakery.

I close my eyes to the ******* the bus
and I see eight girls who probably didn't like me anyway.

I haven't asked for a coworkers number,
i call
the girl I fell most in love with,
she's even further away now.


my sheets are new,
not broken in, stiff yet soft.

my name tag reads
Nolan Fillman
Grass Valley California

people ask me where that is and I've lied every time

Find me peeled and threadbare at Grizzly Creek
Past a bend of Yuba's middle fork
A twisting force with incredible torque
Come to auric memory where hankerings seek
Express your desire for, disrobe, bespeak

I am skipping rocks and charming rainbow trout
Flitter sunrays off cherry dragonflies
Glitter as they do, they like to dandify
Join my hide and seek, be silent , do not shout
If I spot you first, ensnared you know, no doubt

Here I am, so please ask spring fiddleheads
If they not mind to spare a few
I'll saute them with lavender just to eat with you
Running water's stream bank, to me you are led
Let live oaks shelter us, for there our love be wed

Always there and never here

the old carrot on a rope trick
I always fall for it.

happiness is there, happiness is doing that, happiness is making that much money, happiness is sleeping with her, happiness is hanging out with them....

but
it's not.

happiness is not the carrot on the rope,
it's a state of mind.

my mother identifies as Catholic yet she always taught me that heaven and hell exist at the same time. heaven is a state of mind, hell is self pity.

and yet,

I'm seeking peace through turmoil.

I love this town, I love The Curly Wolf Espresso House, I love Thursday night karaoke at The National Hotel Bar, I love the south fork of The Yuba River, but I gotta get away.

this monotony has turned from fruitful to choking. this monotony turned its back on me.
this complacency has turned from refreshing to restricting. this complacency turned its back on me.

I've never in my life felt apathetic!
is it a curse? is it a destiny?

I told the girl I've loved for seven years that I'm moving six hundred miles away from her  and she cried in my arms. 'You can't. You can't, I need you. I need you.'

I never know what to say when somebody I love cries. I told her 'shh shh don't cry. I need to. I need to.'


my mother wishes me the best, my big sister is proud of me. I haven't brought myself to tell my little sister yet. I won't tell my friends, they'll try to throw me a party; I couldn't handle that.
My boss is giving me a recommendation, my good friend Joey is coming with me, my father hasn't returned my call.

Suppose it is true: occasionally I'd rather be dead
you go on and on about Radiohead
in your car or at the Yuba River
How many nights I would exhaust my lungs or watch as you punished your liver?

Don't you say anything you don't mean?

I look at you with admiration
Words fall from my mouth-
My hair clings to my face-
Between all things I find correlation