One of my friends and I recently had a conversation about coming to a blank page and feeling as though you have to be in a certain mood to write. I know that this isn't necessarily true, but partially for sure. I think that is depends on what you want to write about. I don't think that in any mood what so ever I could sit down and write about whatever I wanted to. As in at this moment, I'd like to continue and write on the project that I have been, but I can't seem to find the words within myself. The blank document in my Word programs stares at me and haunts me for moments and I can't seen to attack it. To shut my computer is to say that the document won. To go to the gym, eat more, watch tv, and etc, all point to the same fact of walking away.
Today I refuse to let this blank page stare me down and win. I refuse to be over thrown by a document without a name and it will have a name, as soon as I give it one.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Basket Case
This song has been on repeat on my iPhone for a while. I think it actually describes me pretty well.
Basket Case by Green Day
Do you have the time
To listen to me whine
About nothing and everything
All at once
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Am I just stoned?
I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it's lack of sex
That's bringing me down
I went to a whore
He said my life's a bore
So quit my whining cause
It's bringing her down
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Uh, yuh, yuh, ya
Grasping to control
So I better hold on
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Am I just stoned?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUTGr5t3MoY
Basket Case by Green Day
Do you have the time
To listen to me whine
About nothing and everything
All at once
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Am I just stoned?
I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it's lack of sex
That's bringing me down
I went to a whore
He said my life's a bore
So quit my whining cause
It's bringing her down
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Uh, yuh, yuh, ya
Grasping to control
So I better hold on
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Am I just stoned?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUTGr5t3MoY
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Memories
As I jump further and further into my past to bring it into the future, I notice there is more and more there then I had ever expected.
I'm finding myself tearing up at the thought of a beautiful boys eyes looking at me. I find myself searching for memories that are sometimes so unclear that I'm not sure if they ever really existed or if just the haze of the idea of them existing at all.
I am constantly surprised by the emotional sparks that I find in myself with memories that I was sure had been put in my past.
Sometimes painful, but even in that I find this beautiful release that makes it all worth it.
I'm finding myself tearing up at the thought of a beautiful boys eyes looking at me. I find myself searching for memories that are sometimes so unclear that I'm not sure if they ever really existed or if just the haze of the idea of them existing at all.
I am constantly surprised by the emotional sparks that I find in myself with memories that I was sure had been put in my past.
Sometimes painful, but even in that I find this beautiful release that makes it all worth it.
Friday, February 26, 2010
3 Days of Falling
"Today is the greatest day I've ever known" -Smashing Pumpkins
I'm sure that I have quoted that song a million times on this blog. If not, then I have thought of it at least a million times. Not too long ago I saw an interview will Bill Corgan and he spoke about how when he wrote "today" he was living in a storage unit and he wrote it as a joke. It was the most depressing time of his life and the song was supposed to be ironic in sorts.
Today I am more grateful for my friends then I think I have been in a very long time. Sometimes I take them granted, and sometimes I don't give them the attention and care that they need and deserve. At times I also don't give myself the attention and care that I need. Life has been coasting by lately and I haven't really been taking the time to smell the roses and really immerse myself in the world.
Recently I've been emotionally detached and uncomfortable in my own skin.
I easily emotionally detach myself from things so that they are easier to deal with. Lately I have been lonely. I've been having sex, but not the kind that really counts. The kind where you actually want the person to stay the night. The kind where you love to cuddle and wish the morning would never come. It's been a long time since I've felt that way about another person. I don't want a relationship just to have one, in fact, I am totally fine being single. I love being single. But, lately its been snowing in NYC, doesn't romance always seem a little more necessary when it snows? Doesn't it require some sort of organic love energy?
In my new apartment I live on the 28th floor, just outside of Time Square. Two of my wall in my bedroom are all windows, floor to ceiling. I have a breath taking view of Manhattan. Yesterday I woke up and the sky was so filled with snow that I could hardly see the streets below. The people walking with their umbrellas were basically invisible. Flakes of snow fell with the speed of light and crashed to the streets. Huge flakes, so large that I could almost make out the formation of the snow from where my head rested on my pillow. It's moments like that where I wonder if the snow would be more beautiful if someone were laying next to me. It's moments like that where I smile to myself. Although I love the idea of someone watching the sky with me, I am content with myself watching the sky. It's moment like this where I know that my sky is limitless and that this moment just now, this moment, it's just the beginning. And the next moment can be whatever I want it to be.
I can be whatever I want to be.
I'm sure that I have quoted that song a million times on this blog. If not, then I have thought of it at least a million times. Not too long ago I saw an interview will Bill Corgan and he spoke about how when he wrote "today" he was living in a storage unit and he wrote it as a joke. It was the most depressing time of his life and the song was supposed to be ironic in sorts.
Today I am more grateful for my friends then I think I have been in a very long time. Sometimes I take them granted, and sometimes I don't give them the attention and care that they need and deserve. At times I also don't give myself the attention and care that I need. Life has been coasting by lately and I haven't really been taking the time to smell the roses and really immerse myself in the world.
Recently I've been emotionally detached and uncomfortable in my own skin.
I easily emotionally detach myself from things so that they are easier to deal with. Lately I have been lonely. I've been having sex, but not the kind that really counts. The kind where you actually want the person to stay the night. The kind where you love to cuddle and wish the morning would never come. It's been a long time since I've felt that way about another person. I don't want a relationship just to have one, in fact, I am totally fine being single. I love being single. But, lately its been snowing in NYC, doesn't romance always seem a little more necessary when it snows? Doesn't it require some sort of organic love energy?
In my new apartment I live on the 28th floor, just outside of Time Square. Two of my wall in my bedroom are all windows, floor to ceiling. I have a breath taking view of Manhattan. Yesterday I woke up and the sky was so filled with snow that I could hardly see the streets below. The people walking with their umbrellas were basically invisible. Flakes of snow fell with the speed of light and crashed to the streets. Huge flakes, so large that I could almost make out the formation of the snow from where my head rested on my pillow. It's moments like that where I wonder if the snow would be more beautiful if someone were laying next to me. It's moments like that where I smile to myself. Although I love the idea of someone watching the sky with me, I am content with myself watching the sky. It's moment like this where I know that my sky is limitless and that this moment just now, this moment, it's just the beginning. And the next moment can be whatever I want it to be.
I can be whatever I want to be.
Spinning
I've had so much spinning around in my head recently, it feels like a whirlwind of life flying before me. I don't mind. In fact, I'd rather be too busy then not busy at all. I'm definitely someone that likes to have a lot of projects going on at the same time. The trick though I've found, is actually finishing them. I have a tendency to get things half done and then move onto the next. This is going to stop now.
I have been working on writing a bunch of short stories recently in hopes of having them published in the near future. They are coming along pretty well, and I'm actually really excited to be working on them. It's semi crazy to think that one day someone might actually read the stories about me and know more then perhaps I even want them to. But, if you aren't open and free, how can anyone relate with you at all? I feel that the most influential people in media are the ones that you can relate with and feel some common ground. I wish we could all be more open and exposed. The world would by far be more interesting. What would happen if we all decided to share our stories and experiences?
At moments in writing I find myself thinking about what my family, friends, co-workers, and people I don't even know might say or think. Those are moments where I close my eyes, and type faster, typing for myself, because that is actually who I am writing for. I'm writing because I have to get it out of my head, I have to get it out of my body and at the moment it seems that if I don't, I might burst. I feel as though sometimes I have to constantly be sharing and releasing or I go crazy in my head.
I'd rather have my head working too much instead of not working at all.
Spinning, my head is spinning. I'm trying to keep in under control, but I love the feeling of losing control. So spin away.
I have been working on writing a bunch of short stories recently in hopes of having them published in the near future. They are coming along pretty well, and I'm actually really excited to be working on them. It's semi crazy to think that one day someone might actually read the stories about me and know more then perhaps I even want them to. But, if you aren't open and free, how can anyone relate with you at all? I feel that the most influential people in media are the ones that you can relate with and feel some common ground. I wish we could all be more open and exposed. The world would by far be more interesting. What would happen if we all decided to share our stories and experiences?
At moments in writing I find myself thinking about what my family, friends, co-workers, and people I don't even know might say or think. Those are moments where I close my eyes, and type faster, typing for myself, because that is actually who I am writing for. I'm writing because I have to get it out of my head, I have to get it out of my body and at the moment it seems that if I don't, I might burst. I feel as though sometimes I have to constantly be sharing and releasing or I go crazy in my head.
I'd rather have my head working too much instead of not working at all.
Spinning, my head is spinning. I'm trying to keep in under control, but I love the feeling of losing control. So spin away.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Sunday, December 13, 2009
DNR
DNR
Today I got a call from my dad telling me that my grandmother isn’t improving. They are taking her off all life support and basically letting her go.
At best my grandmother would have been in a wheelchair and need constant taking care of. She never would have wanted that. My grandmother has been the most independent woman I’ve ever known. I wonder if I get some of my wisdom and power from her?
Her husband died years ago, and one of her children. I don’t think she has many friends left, and at best they are the kind that randomly call just to keep in touch.
I wonder what death feels like. Is she trapped in her body right now, unable to communicate but just see what’s around her? Can she even move her eyes to see anything anymore? Maybe she’s just floating above her body, waiting. I wonder if this like when you are really excited to go on a vacation, sitting in the airport, waiting for boarding. She is just waiting for her plane to take off. I wonder if she is trying to say good-bye, and excited to say hello to her dead family and friends again?
Where do we go when we die? Do we just evaporate into air and our energy gets spread out? Do “we” actually go somewhere or just carry on? This isn’t a question of God, because God exists in all these ideas. How can everyone that’s ever lived die and yet me know so little about it?
It’s raining in New York City today, the rain is pouring down. It’s the kind of day that you just sit inside and hope it stops soon. Being in the rain reminded me of how great it feels to let the rain fall on you. I took my umbrella and let the drops cover me. It’s this feeling that everything will be ok. Everything can be washed away, and we can all start over. My grandmother will never stand in the rain again. She will never feel the drops hit her skin and feel like everything is ok. She will never smell flowers again. My grandmother will never sit in front of The Price is Right and yell out the prices, or turn the page of another bad mystery novel.
I think she is ready to go. I think she has been ready for a while. I wish I could have known my grandmother as a person, I wonder what secrets she has and stories that she’s never told anyone.
The last time I spoke to my grandma was December 2nd, and only for 5 minutes. I told her that I bought my plane ticket and couldn’t wait to see her. She was excited and told me that she loved me.
I guess I’m going to be waiting for that plane longer then I had expected.
Today I got a call from my dad telling me that my grandmother isn’t improving. They are taking her off all life support and basically letting her go.
At best my grandmother would have been in a wheelchair and need constant taking care of. She never would have wanted that. My grandmother has been the most independent woman I’ve ever known. I wonder if I get some of my wisdom and power from her?
Her husband died years ago, and one of her children. I don’t think she has many friends left, and at best they are the kind that randomly call just to keep in touch.
I wonder what death feels like. Is she trapped in her body right now, unable to communicate but just see what’s around her? Can she even move her eyes to see anything anymore? Maybe she’s just floating above her body, waiting. I wonder if this like when you are really excited to go on a vacation, sitting in the airport, waiting for boarding. She is just waiting for her plane to take off. I wonder if she is trying to say good-bye, and excited to say hello to her dead family and friends again?
Where do we go when we die? Do we just evaporate into air and our energy gets spread out? Do “we” actually go somewhere or just carry on? This isn’t a question of God, because God exists in all these ideas. How can everyone that’s ever lived die and yet me know so little about it?
It’s raining in New York City today, the rain is pouring down. It’s the kind of day that you just sit inside and hope it stops soon. Being in the rain reminded me of how great it feels to let the rain fall on you. I took my umbrella and let the drops cover me. It’s this feeling that everything will be ok. Everything can be washed away, and we can all start over. My grandmother will never stand in the rain again. She will never feel the drops hit her skin and feel like everything is ok. She will never smell flowers again. My grandmother will never sit in front of The Price is Right and yell out the prices, or turn the page of another bad mystery novel.
I think she is ready to go. I think she has been ready for a while. I wish I could have known my grandmother as a person, I wonder what secrets she has and stories that she’s never told anyone.
The last time I spoke to my grandma was December 2nd, and only for 5 minutes. I told her that I bought my plane ticket and couldn’t wait to see her. She was excited and told me that she loved me.
I guess I’m going to be waiting for that plane longer then I had expected.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
My Grandma is Dying.
I am supposed to go and visit my grandma next Monday. Not in 4 days, but in 11. I've was planning on going to visit her a few months, but I kept putting it off. It's not that I found reasons not to, as much as that I was going through a break up and then I started a new job.
I've been working on the Artist's Way and part of that is grabbing life by the balls. I've been trying to keep in touch with people that I've lost touch with and stay connected with those that I love. I called my grandma and bought a plane ticket to go and visit her for Christmas. My plan was to leave on the 21st from NY, visit her for a few days and then head to Michigan to see my parents and sisters.
I got a call today.. my grandma is in the hospital. My aunt, that I haven't had a conversation with in years, found her laying unconscious on the floor. She wasn't moving, but she was alive. She called an ambulance and now my grandmother is laying in a hospital bed. She isn't talking, or moving, and I don't know what that means. Is it a coma, can you be in a coma at 90?
I feel sad.
But I also don't feel much of anything. I love her. I have had some great conversations with her, and I'm 25. I've known her all of my life, so why do I feel so little? Should I feel more? Should I be crying in a corner? Should tears be streaming down my face? Why do I feel guilty for feeling less?
My grandma was married once, he died before I was born. She never remarried. She lived the rest of her life alone, what if that happens to me? Am I dead inside? Sometimes I think so.
She loved mystery novels, the really shitty ones that only old people read. She LOVES them. She would read them all day long, I think they were her family in a sense. She made me want to read. I saw how much she loved them and how much she took away from them. She made me want to explore the world, explore things beyond my backyard.
I never saw my grandma cry.
Why aren't I crying now? Is it a missing gene? Why can I cry over some stupid relationship that didn't work out, but when it comes to death in the family I am like stone? Why do I feel like I'm outside looking in?
My grandma loves chocolate covered cherries and those dry cookies that come in a tin.
My grandma asked me a few years ago, "Do you have a special friend?" She knew I was gay and cared enough to ask me if I had someone special in my life. I didn't. I told her so, and I could see sadness in her eyes. I reminded her that she didn't have a boyfriend either, she laughed and said that she had enough romance in her life. Can you ever have enough romance in your life?
What if I'm 90 and die alone on my kitchen floor?
Finally, some tears.
I've been working on the Artist's Way and part of that is grabbing life by the balls. I've been trying to keep in touch with people that I've lost touch with and stay connected with those that I love. I called my grandma and bought a plane ticket to go and visit her for Christmas. My plan was to leave on the 21st from NY, visit her for a few days and then head to Michigan to see my parents and sisters.
I got a call today.. my grandma is in the hospital. My aunt, that I haven't had a conversation with in years, found her laying unconscious on the floor. She wasn't moving, but she was alive. She called an ambulance and now my grandmother is laying in a hospital bed. She isn't talking, or moving, and I don't know what that means. Is it a coma, can you be in a coma at 90?
I feel sad.
But I also don't feel much of anything. I love her. I have had some great conversations with her, and I'm 25. I've known her all of my life, so why do I feel so little? Should I feel more? Should I be crying in a corner? Should tears be streaming down my face? Why do I feel guilty for feeling less?
My grandma was married once, he died before I was born. She never remarried. She lived the rest of her life alone, what if that happens to me? Am I dead inside? Sometimes I think so.
She loved mystery novels, the really shitty ones that only old people read. She LOVES them. She would read them all day long, I think they were her family in a sense. She made me want to read. I saw how much she loved them and how much she took away from them. She made me want to explore the world, explore things beyond my backyard.
I never saw my grandma cry.
Why aren't I crying now? Is it a missing gene? Why can I cry over some stupid relationship that didn't work out, but when it comes to death in the family I am like stone? Why do I feel like I'm outside looking in?
My grandma loves chocolate covered cherries and those dry cookies that come in a tin.
My grandma asked me a few years ago, "Do you have a special friend?" She knew I was gay and cared enough to ask me if I had someone special in my life. I didn't. I told her so, and I could see sadness in her eyes. I reminded her that she didn't have a boyfriend either, she laughed and said that she had enough romance in her life. Can you ever have enough romance in your life?
What if I'm 90 and die alone on my kitchen floor?
Finally, some tears.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Blueberry Muffins
So, I'm making blueberry muffins today. And I'm very excited. It's been a while since I've made them and I love them to death. Might not seem important, but, I'm really dorky. So, it makes perfect sense! :-)
T
T
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Crushing
I just had this idea
Maybe it was a vision?
I saw the same place
Maybe a couple new windows
A dog
A life
An idea
Honestly, I thought it'd fit really nice
I was under the influence
Maybe you could change
Maybe I could leave myself
Again
Maybe abandon it all
Again
I thought maybe
Under this influence
I thought maybe we could be the dream
This idea
This thing
This everything in the world that says we can't
That's what I wanted from you
I wanted you to complete my fantasy
And now I know
It's completely unrealistic
Its not your fault
It's all me
I wanted it perfect
I wanted what you showed me
I wanted what you said you could be
Not what you showed me
I wanted life
I wanted fearlessness
I wanted your freedom
I wanted to help you and share your pain
I wanted to be there for you when you were sad
I wanted to hold your hand
I swear I did
And life seems unfair
With every snowflake I see
I keep thinking you might be hiding
But you're not
I keep thinking
A snowflake
We'll call it a sign
I keep thinking one day we will be safe and sound
But like every flake
Every piece that I see
We are both fragile
And we both clearly break at every seam.
Maybe it was a vision?
I saw the same place
Maybe a couple new windows
A dog
A life
An idea
Honestly, I thought it'd fit really nice
I was under the influence
Maybe you could change
Maybe I could leave myself
Again
Maybe abandon it all
Again
I thought maybe
Under this influence
I thought maybe we could be the dream
This idea
This thing
This everything in the world that says we can't
That's what I wanted from you
I wanted you to complete my fantasy
And now I know
It's completely unrealistic
Its not your fault
It's all me
I wanted it perfect
I wanted what you showed me
I wanted what you said you could be
Not what you showed me
I wanted life
I wanted fearlessness
I wanted your freedom
I wanted to help you and share your pain
I wanted to be there for you when you were sad
I wanted to hold your hand
I swear I did
And life seems unfair
With every snowflake I see
I keep thinking you might be hiding
But you're not
I keep thinking
A snowflake
We'll call it a sign
I keep thinking one day we will be safe and sound
But like every flake
Every piece that I see
We are both fragile
And we both clearly break at every seam.
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