Notes from an IPod Touch Pt. 2: Theme of longing

Rockets and race car beds

There is a concentrated pull
Coming from outside the sill
The will to leave teeters on necessity
But still remain
Remain in spot
The unknown is an enchantress
It sickens me when I can't love her
back
I love the lights, the towers
The smell of things mildewed
with character
Not catalog bought
Not framed after boring model homes
where every little boy and girl have
rockets and race cars for beds
I used to want it
But now I want something less defined
I want freedom
I want to be somebody
And not just for the sake of recognition
but to matter
A tall order
For a low self esteem but why not
dream big
Did God make us to do any less?


Wants to see me

The best place in the world
is passenger side at dusk
When it's raining
so hard
The window may as well be a
Wall, because the water washed away
the view of dotted two lane highway
And there's no better highway than the
1
Screaming along the beautiful coast in
balmy weather
I shudder when I remember what
perfect convergence like that feels like
Oh I wish you coulda been there with
me
Cause that's as close as to love as this fool
ever got

You know, I deal in possibilities
exclusively these days
And I'm saving up for another trip
though who knows when for sure
Concrete plans are brittle when you're
23
And I am
Oh my, I think I'll miss some people so
much
And surprise chili nights in late July
But it never seems like you want to see
me anymore
And lukewarm receptions are so easily
left behind

The night and day never really meet

"Well I feel fairly inadequate right now," I said as I stargazed the black sky above me, watching my words condense for a second into a cloud.

"It's fine, I'm sure someone else has a light," said the beanied blond as she walked over to another random alley patron.

She asked me for a lighter but I am not a smoker. Not a real one anyway. Just an occasional one. I wish I had been talking about a lighter and not, as was the case, a general statement about myself. I hated to see her go but this night was not about girls.


I spent the better part of the ride home debating with myself whether I was too drunk to drive. My conclusion as I pulled off the freeway on my exit was that I had kept it in the lane well enough. I was in familiar territory now. Quiet suburban neighborhoods with empty well lit roads. I rolled the window down as I always do on surface streets and let the air sooth me. The sounds and smells all the things I know so well. Left turn then another left and a final right, I pulled into my driveway.

Staring at my front door I had a thought. A thought that maybe my night didn't have to end yet. So I went for a walk. The night felt wild for some reason. The stars and moon dazzled brighter than I'd ever known them to. I nearly tripped because I could not stop myself from looking up instead of ahead. A few coyotes ran across my path skittishly, afraid of what I might do. It startled me a bit and for a second I could see myself being ripped apart by a pack of wild dogs. I shuttered to think how that would feel so I tried my best to ignore them increased my pace.

Then I stopped. A rush of reality, of regret ran over me suddenly. The feeling was so intense my vision hued orange with the rush. I had to steady myself, feeling so sad and wrong and disgusting, knowing what I'd done and how I wanted to go back but could not. My phone vibrated in my pocket and the last thing I remember was murmuring to myself "why" as if through repetition I'd find my relief.

I awoke the next morning very early awkwardly clinging to a swing set at a public park. A ringing sound pulled me from my sleep. My eyes hurt from dry contacts and it took a minute to set them right and focus.

The sun was not quite over the horizon so I figured it must be near 6 o'clock or earlier. All I could hear were the slow chug of industrial sprinklers, making a metallic ring as they hit a street sign post. My alarm clock.

There were no cars in the parking lot and no other people around save for a few chipper autos putting along to work. I stood up slowly and immediately felt sick. My mouth tasted like cigarettes and hand smelled worse. I was not usually prone to hangover, but I did not usually call a playground my bed.

Plodding my first unsure few steps I regained some composure and made my way back home. Walking toward me on the sidewalk, a couple walked their dog in jogging outfits. I smiled as we passed and they just stared. The night and day never really meet, they just stare at each other as they pass.

Feeling my pockets to make sure I hadn't left anything in the wood chips, I took out my phone.

3 new messages
2 missed calls

The sun hit my face in that bright intensity that only a sunrise can bring. I immediately began to sweat as the cool morning air retreated to the shadows. Still having a few more blocks to go I removed my jacket.

"Hey Evan, I think we should talk this through"

"Why do you feel so trapped with me? What is wrong?"

"You must be at the bar, call me tomorrow, g'night"

I felt bad for not answering. But then again, I was drinking for a reason last night. And there's no sense in allowing feelings to ruin a good drunk.

Fully clothed I fell into bed and nearly into deep sleep, but I had a voice mail and I wanted to hear it before I shut the blinds and slept away the day.

"Ok Evan, I know you're at the bar. But I just wanted to say you made me sad today. I know you did it thinking you were doing the right thing and that you didn't want to lead me on but it still hurt a lot. You've got some issues Evan. I don't want to sound like the woman scorned here and maybe it's just that I wasn't your type or something. But hear me out. I think you didn't really want to break things off. I don't know why but you seemed hesitant. I thought you liked me Evan, you said you did. I know you didn't want to hurt me but you did. But I think you hurt yourself too. That's why you're out tonight, isn't it? Maybe I wont date for a while but I should have done that anyway after my last relationship, these things wear on you. Anyway, I'm not going to beat myself up over it. I'll be off work so call me tomorrow if you want to talk, but I don't think you will. So... goodbye Evan, I hope you figure out your demons before you meet the girl you really want."

I ended the call and turned over staring at the ceiling.

"Well that was fun." I said sarcastically to myself.

I hated being the bad guy and breaking things off, but do they always have to analyze me? I think I'm easy enough to figure out.

I turned my pillow over to the cold side expecting to conk out as soon as it was beneath me. An hour and four drinks of water later I fell asleep.

A week on a string

I had this beautiful glass chime
it swayed in the wind
and rung so sweetly

She brought the summer breeze in
with in a flurry of notes
frantic
ringing ringing
Like an alarm

For
me
to
WAKE UP

I admired her and she sang for me
only I
and the wind
would touch her

And when the glow from the horizon sunset
filtered through her shape
I froze
not wanting it to end
as the black then purple then red then yellow
became just one color

Oh you should have seen it
Magic on a string

But I couldn't handle her
my glass chime
her delicate nature, her love
was always in the back of my head

ringing ringing
in my mind,

at any time
SHE COULD BREAK

Even the breeze
our friend
was suspect

I panicked
when panicking would solve nothing
I packed her away and set the chime as neatly as she could fit
inside the cardboard box
with straw and cushion

and I sent her away
because now I could not bear to be the reason for her breaking
I could not stand to see her shatter

She's gone now
I sent her away
No more ringing or melding summer colors
I was too afraid to have her so I gave her away

Now nights are filled only with a passionless void

John Muir

In the darkness
while her eyes are dancing in and out of focus
because we are too close
its too dark

And I can't concentrate
On the here and now
the moment

because I'm already weeks ahead
a time traveler,
prophet
to a heart that I can't understand
except in visions

dealing exclusively in disappointment

I can already see the end
that long tube of time
with a pinpoint of light

but I know what's there already
and it's not here
it's not now

So while in immediacy
it feels right to be
I have my doubts

We could be so perfect for each other
it could be so serendipitous that we ever crossed paths
on the lonely road of life
But this isn't my stop

And so while I brushed the hair out of her eyes
and wanted to feel her so much closer
I wonder if she saw the sadness creep across my face

And it hurts to feel it
which is why more now than ever I must go

I am John Muir but you are not my Yosemite
I am Columbus but you are not the East
I am Abraham but you are not my Canaan
no
I'm still so very restless outside
the promised land

It's so sad to say
That so far having someone hurts more than not

Fat Jim Morrison and the LSD freakout

We
walked around the
streets

You
had to go home
eventually

But we heard music

And a tiny little clothing store
with a backyard
where
you'd never expect it

A band of misfits playing covers of 60's
and 70's songs
to couples who were our age
in those same era's

You
stood in front of me
and smiled and
listened

in the red glow
of a string of lights along the fence

I think in that moment I smiled
and meant it

meant it more
than a hundred other smiles
i've ever given

I'll act like it didn't happen

"Sure I can wait, it's just smores"
You know,
it seems like a trap
A familiar one
A beautifully familiar one

One that comes on bright and warm like the spring
With a comparable level of renewal

I can't even look at the screen when she's complimenting me
I just smile and stare at my hands on the keyboard

It'll be hard to wipe that smirk off my face
It's also hard for me not to sabotage myself

I want to ask why
why now
why me
why her

but that's not how these things develop I guess

The beach seems like a fine place for a meeting
Those waves erase the shore and all the footprints on them
I'm just having trouble convincing myself
to jump in

I want to be able to dry off quickly
should conditions suddenly change
so I could act like it didn't happen

A debate with myself (whether or not to show my angry side)

An old post I never posted from a few months ago and titled "revise this". I never did.

Regret is not a strong word
but a necessary one
for late nights of pure weakness
coming back to remind you with their ugly heads

Like the pigs
become our enemy
Love in the time of Swine Flu is a tricky proposition

Keep your distance and draw near
never works
Rolling in the mire is so much more fun
Save for the disgusting feeling afterward

Hysteria and panic of pandemic proportions
Yet, the crickets outside know nothing of these things
How many more will suffer
before the bugs will quit their chirping?

We are the pigs wallowing through our own filth
but the rest of the natural world lives on
We curse and blame and point
for not
The animals sing,
the sky sings
The heavens themselves open up their throats
for a trumpet of a new day
Every single dawn without fail
And we spit in each other's faces
without fail

Sometimes I wish I had someone to snap me out
Wake me up, please
I haven't met the best one yet

These things I do know

Politics will let you down
Politicians are not public servants
Because they don't know how to serve
The news will not inform
Because the public will not accept it
The world needs more love
Even those who say they love do not always love
Indifference is not the same as tolerance

And tolerance is not the answer
It is just tolerance
Merely a bandage for a gushing wound
And bandages are easily torn under mild duress

Love always was
and always will be what we need
In more ways than one as well
In actions not words
In sincerity and not show

In love with something other than ourselves

All the pretty girls (rant rant)

All the pretty girls
With their spot on fashion
Their hipster glasses
The archive of vinyl records
and their archival knowledge of 70's punk bands

Their uninspired personalities
Their self righteous anger for global issues
When pity
and caring
would have served it better

They way they abhor outside judgement
Their curve ball smiles
and disarming wit that makes you feel
down 0-2 in the count

The way their hair seems to glow
like a halo in a dark ages religious tapestry
from the era of Constantine
The Roman Empire divided in their shining locks

And when I admire them
it's always
from a distance
artificial, superficial, or otherwise
They don't want much to do with me
up close
Too grim I think
Too near to flippantly brush aside

All the pretty girls at some point
Made the decision to be that way

Guys like me
(or just me maybe)
Never had a chance
Except a knowledge fleeting
An inkling
That the pretty girls
Were not the pretty girls after all
They were impostors
Wolves in vintage clothing
Those girls are parody at best

NOTHING so good as all that
Is ever so easy to spot

I think I may happen upon only a few
Genuine articles in my life
The real pretty girls are natural and brief as that
perfect sunrise in summer
They are gone so fast

If you see them at all