Good News Is: You Won't Remember Any of This

-never get drunk outside of your own home
(to prevent you from plowing your car into a fire hydrant)
-don't ever tell anyone how you really feel about them.
(when saying it out-loud, it loses worth.)
-believing that your work makes you who you are is dysfunctional
-don't ever jump in with both feet
-if, and when... you love, be sure that it is reciprocated ten fold
-You can do anything.. - but do you really want to?
-Lose several battles, rethink your strategy, don't give up on the war.
-Acknowledge that you are full of shit. because you are. you are. i am. we are.
-know that at any moment you can walk away. the power is in the pudding
-don't collect too many possessions, the worth is in your soul, not your cash flow
-have patience with people. kick over rocks; there's good somewhere.. out there?
-don't just fuck anyone who comes near you - leave that to the douches'
-write for yourself, not for the women, not for the young, not to leave behind a legacy and not to be discovered or praised, write for yourself, to keep the madness at bay.
-don't expect anything from those who aren't worth receiving.
-love each girl who comes through your life. if you're fortunate enough to get one who is gold, hold onto it if she holds as tight
-you are weak, selfish, and unsettling, like the sediment in the horchata tank
-if you're fortunate enough to have a beautiful woman kiss you, it's your duty to kiss back.
-call her the next day, don't ruin her for the other guys, maybe the right guy.
-treat the good ones well, spill truth to the wicked, and hug the sorry.
-when you die, you'll fade, know this..... so whatever you do today, doesn't matter tomorrow or the next, there's ten more like you in line for praise, recognition, and hunger. you'll be easily replaced
-dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today - james dean

Rhyming Poetry is Like Emaciated Hipster Women

back to normal
oversized buddy holly glasses
undone hair
normalize
immobilized
two tanks
but still running on empty
and i feel fine
so much clatter
talking so much
about nothing in fact
but yourself
making me sea sick
the problem is you
but that's not acknowledge
if to live in this world
you've got to steer conversations
make yourself laugh
beyond the bitter bile taste in your mouth
take your positivity
and shove it right up your ass
because with your blind love for everyone
it delays your opinons
your actions
your decisions
and becoming like them
only makes you another water stain
another turd
another walking contridiction
and we're all apart of the same hypocrisy
some people work it
others become invested in it
and some move out to the woods
and die alone
the struggle you fight for so much
the landmark you want to leave
won't exhist
because the flies collect on turds
turds of the nation unite!
fight for stripped shirt, clingy, latex battles
die with a bamboo plant clenched in your fist
"here lies a fighter, a person of worth, someone who died for nothing, because continuation.."

Lets.... Let Us - All Applaud Wildly

the words bubble at the surface, and as i let them filter out, nothing seems good enough. when the blanket is taken off from over your eyes, and you see it all for what it is - the small details and quick glances, steering conversation away from things that will enrage me (which is most things). people view me as negative - only viewing the bottom feeders, the boy who was left to wander alone in the amusement park, and i am sleeping too. and i know this.

trust your struggle.

drink too much, smoke too much, feel defeated too much, fight (not in the physical sense) too much, drive too fast, not environmentally conscious enough, not politically educated enough to hold my own in the health care debate, not doing enough to save the world, not believing in causes enough, or volunteering enough, not violent enough, and not aggressive enough, thinking too much and not feeling enough, and to top it all off, too honest to be an asshole much. (all though that in it's own is cutting my nose...)

my struggle doesn't involve saving the world.
call me selfish (i probably am)
some people can't get out of bed in the morning, bearing the thought of another day of being surrounded by greed, envy, hollow souls, and humans believing in a cause- to find approval from others. those are the people who never do, but only act.
those who do, those who do not want recognition, those who do straight from their heart, tend to not steer conversations towards what they are doing, but what should be done, and not advertising themselves.

but when seeing this, my body stiffens, my mind yells, and i feel crippled by disappointment.

and that's what it is
and that's what i'll have to learn
to
live with.

and i'll get there
eventually
pounding my bloody fist against the glass
i'll learn to cope
to somehow feel at peace with
one person at a time

Green Jello, Fire Hydrants, & Bloody Pumpkins

grind together
as the flakes fall
on coffee table
roll the bill
but not too tight
stand up
sit down
adjust your belt
stand up
walk around
crack a beer
peak out the blinds
"there's fucking sun out there!"
"aye"
"people too?"
"no fuck that, no people, lots of turds..."
sit down
sweaty palms
dehydration coming on
headache
back ache
neck ache
stand up
cannot piss
bladder contracts
insides twist and knot
sick again
arrange yourself at the head
"aye"
no more beer
no more bills
no more rye
to drink it all down
summer is almost gone
t-shirt sticks to back
i'm sweating all the time
i can taste it
cotton mouth/ numb mouth
wrapped up in the sugar business
look in the mirror
pounds shed
life shed
circles under eyes
deranged youth trapped behind
wheel of
dancing baboons
swerving
missing no parking meter
no hydrant
no humans
no more pills
to levitate me
no more T.V.
to educate us
ears bleed
brain is trying to evacuate
escape through my ears
into the sink
teeth fall out
hairs grown long
fingers grow limp
no more
distraction
blue skies
and green lights
but wait.
wait.
everything
everything
everything
is
compromised

'ello'

and if none of you ever read this
i wouldn't mind
doing this,
not for the pat on the back,
or recognition,
or approval,
or money
ha... writing for money
thats a laugh
the reasons are like any other
like any of your reasons
or hers
or his
some people get dressed up and go dancing
others become "hip" and smug,
brushing off the problems of the world
and pushing theirs to the top of the list
i think about women passing before me
the ones that have passed and gone
the ones i have around me now
and the ones who will come into view
and allow me to draw a conclusion
a final synopsis to all of this
then-
i grab some drinks
and write about how much
i dislike these people i don't personally know
these people who i judge from far away
i'm a fucking observer
an ant on the testicle of the elephant
and i've yet to ever intentionally hurt someone who didn't
have it coming to them
but hey,
thats what i do
and if you're not "excited" or "interested" in what i'm doing here
if you're not moved or feeling randy....
good..
go away.
go on... scram
fucking leave
there's no legacy here
no tangent
no security
just a guy sitting around in his underwear
mumbling to himself
and that may look sad to you
but shit...
i feel great.

about a year ago i was down in Ensenada with my good friends. i had been high all the time on over the counter amphetamines, sometimes if i had enough, my heart would try to escape my chest by way of my throat, putting my fingers up to my temple, i could feel my blood rushing, constant movement was the only way to keep me from ripping the labels off the beer bottles and cracking my knuckles -- it was a good time.
we had been going out into the ocean for a couple days now, and on this particular day i was feeling brave, invincible, undefeated... (having my best friends with me, playing music, drinking all day and eating good food put me in a special place) the tide was strong, and i never went out beyond the water level at chest, for i am not a good swimmer, and if pulled out into my watery death, i would surely either drown, or give up from exhaustion. i ventured out slowly, and occasionally i pulled back, got my footing, and would bob up and down with the water. i couldn't enjoy this peace though, and i wanted just a little bit of fear, (which is an idiotic thing to do, i'll get to that later on.. bare with me) i went deeper and deeper out, until my friend (who is six feet tall) was about 20 yards behind me when i turned around. everything went silent, and my eyes flickered for a second, and then i realized i was being pulled out to sea. "fuck" i screamed, and my friend came for me with a boogie board in an attempt to tow me back in, but even then the current was too strong for both of us.. he swam back in and as i looked out, watching his figure become smaller and smaller, (i had to be at about a 100 yards from shore now) i panicked and watched as he ran up the beach to the lifeguard tower (the lifeguard tower is about 200 yards from the point where we were swimming)
something in me sparked, and i started pushing and swimming as hard as my body would let me, then i pushed a bit more, and i didn't focus on the shore, but only on making it closer to land, inch by inch i made my way towards the shore, and when i finally emerged, body limp from exhaustion, i let myself fall into the warm sand and breathed in the fresh salty air.

this was not the first time i got myself into a mess because i got outside of my head.

round 2

a friend of ours had a birthday, and heavy drinking was involved, i knew my ex girlfriend would be there, but i was at a better place now in my life, and felt that i could handle it. after many, many, many glasses of scotch, we hit the bar. karaoke ensued, and everyone was having a merry time. the ex girlfriend (lets call her Dee) was beginning to warm up to me, and i felt that maybe i had a chance to mend our past (goes against everything i believe in, i know) my buddy pulled my aside and i specifically remember him trying to tell me not to do what i was thinking i should do, but i blew him off, because again.. again.. i was feeling brave and invincible (no amphetamines this time, this was alcohol mixed with feelings that i wanted to replicate all over again, even though, i knew, i knew for sure, that i shouldn't, but when have i ever followed rules?) she decided it was time for her to leave, and i couldn't possibly let her walk home at 1:30 in the morning by herself in the seedy part of Hollywood. i popped my head back in the bar to say goodbye, and getting tangled in the tarp they place over the door, i fell straight on my face (not before hitting the edge of the pool table with my head). as i got up, straightening my hat, i bolted for my car. i backed up a bit to pull out and smashed the front of a truck, then clipped the parking meter on my way out. luckily Dee only lived about 2 blocks away, so i caught her about a block from her place.
"get in"
"i'm only a block away"
"come on, at least let me drive you a block, pretty girl like you shouldn't be out this late alone, lots of creeps and rapist."

she got in the car and i pulled around the corner, we sat in the idling car for awhile talking, and then i leaned over and kissed her, just like the first time we met, and i felt her turn to putty in my hands.
"i'm too drunk to drive"
"i know"
"then why'd you let me drive you?"
she twisted her shirt in her hands.
"you want to come in for some water or something?"
"sure"
she got out and i went to park my car. her new apartment smelled like apricots, and it had a kick ass view of Melrose. we sat around talking for awhile and playing stupid little games with each other, finally we decided it was time to go to bed, and that i should come with.
i laid there starring at her ceiling fan until she reached over and put her arms around me. i nuzzled up against her nice big breast and went to sleep. in the morning she started asking me all kinds of questions..
"i don't think your friend likes me"
"of course he doesn't"
"why?"
"because you broke my heart."
"you've got a good friend there"
"i know"
it started getting awkward at this point and she put her shirt on. it was time for me to leave, and i felt it.
"okay, well... i'm gonna go."
i turned to leave and was halfway towards the door when she yelled from the bedroom...
"i didn't really break your heart did i?"
"more than you'll ever know."

i put my sunglasses on and stepped out into the milky sunlight, i lit up a cigarette and made my way towards the car.
the car was parked with one tire up on the curb, and the rear bumper nuzzled up against the trunk of a tree...i circled around and saw the huge dent that was left from backing into that truck, and my front fender was scratched from the parking meter.

sometimes i get outside of my head, and i know i'm doing bad.. but something tells me not to care, and to just destroy for the sake of destroying, to cause chaos just because it seems like fun and i want that angst to be released. sometimes when i'm angry i knock over peoples trash cans with my car, or piss on the door handle of someone who parked like an asshole.
somehow, it's all making sense now.

our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong, stupid, and foolish..
-Chuck Palahniuk

21 to 27

if one must,
then be what you are
but for the choices you make
someone has to say,
yes,
you did wrong
call me judgmental
and take me out of context
oh
oh yes...
anywhere to be within the 21 to 27
you feel proud
am i am woman
hear me roar
but let me inform you of going a bit too far
you get in something serious at an early age
and you fall deeply, madly in love
whatever that means for you
but you don't have yourself put together
so the person you pick
is absolutely wrong in every sense
he mistreats you
beats you
(be it emotionally or physically, either way the guy is shit and you know it, but you think you can change his being, so you believe for the best thats in him)
separation occurs
and because you have no sense of self
you think that developing is experience
so you fuck and drink
you act like the insatiable being
nothing makes you happy, excited, depressed or somber
you become apathetic to everything
and in doing so,
you become another face in the crowd
another hot night
another dead eyed, dreary person "evolving"
through your supposable humanity
and becoming so caught in your jail
with the gold bars
you don't see it when something good stands right in front of you
and dismiss it
easily
without second thought
you cancel everything automatically
and become self centered and full of false, fake, dead joy
you ignore and compact
group and gather
deviate from the true plan
lots of one night stands that you think will amount to something
you do this for awhile
because it makes you feel good
ignoring all the timeless passion that stood in your face
sooner or later
your wall crumbles
and you feel vulnerable
thats when you come back to the solid left before you
and it's gone
because it moved on
when you turned your back
so you take a minute
and try to understand what happened
but the love is gone
and you develop fake understanding for another person who
falls into "your" place
even though its not what you really want
and that good piece
that missing piece
rolled away
you are fucked
and it's sad
but it's the beacon truth
you never believed it when it was in your ear
but someone
somebody
has to tell you
you were a horrible person then
and you continue to be empty
uninteresting
emotionally detached
dead in every sense of the word
and they don't actually care who you are trying to save
because they only want to fuck you!
and you know this!
what the fuck?
oh
sadness washes over me
followed by a wave of relief
because at the end of the story
you learn that what you did was wrong
but you won't acknowledge it
because you're too busy trying to save someone else
to get approval,
and rewards
when you should be saving yourself

At the End of Your Reins

at the end
the end of your day
it's not about scoring the hottest girl
sticking your nose into that scrumptious flesh
and making someone moan
or about doing a good job at work
having your boss pat your back and say, "hey! you're not expendable..."
when you've sacrificed so much of outside life, work bleeds into your veins
missing chances and opportunities to catch up on those reports
and those other nonsense things they make you do, to fill that hole in you
at the end
the end of your day
it's not about winning or losing
because in order to win, you must crush a lesser human
and to lose...
hey..
what the fuck?
who likes to lose?
no one
because at the end
you'll be a memory
they'll have a goofy stupid funeral and people will cry
talk about how fucking great and awesome you were
giving you that virtual blow job in the sky (or underground) that you can't feel
you can't harness
energy thats pretty much wasted on a corpse
some laughing, some crying, lots of heavy drinking, mourning...
all that shit that comes with demise
but let us not talk of death!
let us talk of liberty!
at the end of your day,
the most important thing
is not to apologize
because you should never put yourself in a position
where you bite your lower lip until it bleeds
but if you do
and you will
you have to pick up your skirt, grab your balls, and make things right
somehow
even though you don't get the girl
you have to be true to yourself
because in the end
you must lay in bed
starring at that blank ceiling
with no one to judge you but yourself
and yes
yes
there must be some decisions made
bad
good
whatever
you've got to come ahead in humanity
in order to become comfortable with your core misery
because that's what happiness, positivity, optimism, desire and love are
knowing that you are broken
but overlooking that
and doing what is correct
not in your eyes
or the eyes of everyone else
but in the eyes of that great laughing fuck in the sky
which in turn
is the eyes that are imbedded in your heart
because you've only got so many beats
make each one count

underneath the velvety sun, on this big blue ball of gas, sat a character loving in the prolonged sense of the word, in side the dark recess of his automobile, fist clenched in agonizing traffic pain, the character breathed out relentlessly, again and again. foot tapping accelerator in 4/4 time, unaccustomed to the slow crawl of life, the drawn out speed of the city, he did it all the time. not for comfort or behavioral reasons, but because it made him feel somewhat connected to the other non human hating machines. and in his glovebox, liars beware, sat something of ambiguous nature, something not worth the declaration of the word, nothing with structure, black and blue, down and green, un- un- un-decided he sat, pondering and wondering, babbling and slapping his hands against the unresponsive wheel, tired he felt, unbelievably unaware of the circular motions and motives of his chair. one pump up, two pumps down, he sat with his typewriter in this lap awaiting the motorized sounds of life. the wind drew up and pushed the plastic bags around in his backseat, where he claimed to be an environmentalist, and yet, for every store he'd visit, never asking for a paper bag, or bringing his own knapsack. he was unaware of his demise. nothing. nothing. was simple and pleasant in the back of those eyes. merely a man. undistorted, merely a man, living through his memories, his wife, his kids, he had no sense, no personality, a blank canvas up on that mantle, no discoveries visible, he changed instant opinions like a snowballed mouse. he had no backbone, no fight, no courage left in him. and taht was his own fault, and no one else, he did it to himself, living in constant fear of the other shoe to drop. he cut it up.


with the passing of people, in and out of books, in and around the revolving door, passing through windows, hearing wind chimes tingle your spine until you cringe and shake with lust, -we are but two people in a large city surrounded with more people in a big blue marble collectively made of ideas and situations, but when you lay your pretty little head down on my chest, and wrap those short sexy arms around me, we fit like puzzle pieces underneath scalding hot sun, and aside from all of the distractions, upon that bed, tent, floor, we are yet but two souls collectively finding comfort, the scents linger in the air a bit longer, the sun bears down a bit brighter, the water taste somewhat sweeter and the air blowing through the cracks in the window makes me want to put my face up to the glass and smile, all goofy like. but with the letting go of such, the reserve system kicks in and a wave of anxiety washes over me, i cannot close my eyes and begin the descension into sleep, the great hand in the sky keeps rattling my cage, and i figure to myself, "if you keep this up, i'll bite my way out of here!"
then i look down, and see you drooling on my chest, and talking in your sleep, and i say to myself, "you need not fear young man, enjoy the beauty, if thrown into the wild blazing hot night, remember the soft silky hands that touched you, the long flowing mass of hair that you immersed face into, those pillow soft lips that you sucked at, hips like Cinderella, and those fiery eyes that challenged you, persuaded you, and ultimately turned your soul to jelly."

just one more.