Dear Scruffy West Publications Blog,
just kidding, i couldn't stay mad at you. This has turned into a humorous situation where i know only 2 people are reading you. Me being one of them. However i plan on changing your name when i get back from Dallas, Texas selling books door to door which is possibly the most random thing i've ever done. And that's saying something from a random person. Am i nervous? yea. Extremely!!! 12 hour work days is insanity. So much emotional stress. I realize that i never tell anyone how vulnerable i actually am. Hence, a blog of truth that 2 people have access to. But back on track, I also plan on getting more people to read you. This was just a trial period. I'll also give you a decent design rather than the semi newspaper publications look i was initially aiming for. I don't write black and white. I write ridiculous. That deserves a ridiculous design. Not a Newspaper design. I'm just gonna be straightforward. Sephra, i know you're reading this. Give me design suggestions haha. Oh and i'm still awkward around you but whats new. I so enjoyed my chocolate chip pancake last night. One day we'll play compatibility. That wasn't meant to be a metaphor. was it? just kidding. Am i? K that got twisted on many levels.
But i know you can follow it through and laugh.
Don't be a stranger is the only favor i ask.
Those lines sum up so much of how i feel even though it was lighthearted.
I never know when to draw the line between laughing and crying. Regardless, funny sentimental people deserve funny sentimental dedicated blogs.
I would tell you to stay awesome but I know I don't have to worry about that.
If i shall not hear from you again till fall (insert sad face here),
remember the alamo...
all my lovin,
ph
one more thing: my shuttle broke down as it was driving me to school during finals week. It broke down at campus crossings, and i had to walk the rest of the way to Mass Comm.... 12.6 minutes walk : )
20090508
I actually questioned my blog???
Take a picture of me now and this is what you'll see.
Dear blog,
I don't know what to think about you. You drive truth out of me to the point of tears. Is that a good thing?
I feel like i can't match your clever conveyance in person all the time. It's so much effort.
People say i'm extroverted. I'm confused.
Change of subject
he will take glasses off cause he knows his sight is bad. That way he's happier. He can't see things that make him sad.
He will talk in third person as though he's not really in his life. More like reading someone else's tragedy cause all the pain makes for an interesting story.
He will not say what he really wants, in times most appropriate to speak. So meek. So weak. 44 is not what he meant.
He will remain obscure and mysterious.
He will write words to raise others expectations, and fear living up to them.
He will put this bit of truth in an almost completely unknown blog but not in a public one.
He will drive home stupidly fast. So fast as though he wanted to crash.
He wants bad habits dead but is not a murderer.
He will look at the full moon alone.
Pray to a god he hasn't thought of in years.
he will not embellish this post to sound more than it is. This is the image. This is it.
Dear blog,
I don't know what to think about you. You drive truth out of me to the point of tears. Is that a good thing?
I feel like i can't match your clever conveyance in person all the time. It's so much effort.
People say i'm extroverted. I'm confused.
Change of subject
he will take glasses off cause he knows his sight is bad. That way he's happier. He can't see things that make him sad.
He will talk in third person as though he's not really in his life. More like reading someone else's tragedy cause all the pain makes for an interesting story.
He will not say what he really wants, in times most appropriate to speak. So meek. So weak. 44 is not what he meant.
He will remain obscure and mysterious.
He will write words to raise others expectations, and fear living up to them.
He will put this bit of truth in an almost completely unknown blog but not in a public one.
He will drive home stupidly fast. So fast as though he wanted to crash.
He wants bad habits dead but is not a murderer.
He will look at the full moon alone.
Pray to a god he hasn't thought of in years.
he will not embellish this post to sound more than it is. This is the image. This is it.
20090504
Esoteric Contemplation
Isn't it true? every truth has a bite to it.
What makes me feel alive always seems short lived.
Isn't it true?
I'll smile and watch the sunrise. I'll cry and watch it leave.
That pattern is here and keeps its hold on me.
Touch isn't hard enough.
Hearing isn't loud enough.
Seeing isn't aesthetic enough.
Smell isn't as fragrant
Taste isn't as pleasing.
Feeling Intangibles. That's the only sense present.
Walking alone at 4 a.m
The rain doesn't feel wet enough
The music i listen to isn't sad enough
Words i read aren't descriptive enough
My bloody nose isn't appropriate enough
bitterness doesn't taste bitter enough...
She'll ask me "how are you."
I'll say "I'm fine"
I'm fine.
I'm lying.
I'm fine.
I won't escape my head. Thoughts are here to stay. Hope is gonna be the death of me. But i'd rather die believing there is possibility (even at it's ridiculously smallest chance) as opposed to having no hope at all. And what sick allegorical meaning the word hope has right now.
Here it is. I'm talking to myself again. Can i shatter some more please? This crystallized structure i work so hard to create only lasts to an extent. Wouldn't you know it? How much you can vent when in lack of emotion. Words constructed to open up everything i never spoke. The words i love to choke. The words you wanted to know. You held that book of secrets and didn't wanna let go. Don't pretend you weren't intrigued. More than once i caught you trying to read. As chance would have it here it is.
This is how it begun. Raw and bland in it's full obscure extent.
"I really care for once... and that's an understatement."
So meaningless though. At least to one of us. You want that book to shut.
Isn't it true? truth just bit. No matter how hard i try i can't match its wit.
So i'll just dry my clothes,
Take my headphones off,
Close this book,
Wipe the blood from my nose,
Spit out any bitterness.
Nothing overcomes this intangible sense.
It has become far too immense.
and in all this resistance
all this indifference.
I swear to god
I've got no defense.
I'll smile and watch the sunrise. I'll cry and watch it leave.
That pattern is here to stay and keeps its hold on me.
What makes me feel alive always seems short lived.
Isn't it true?
I'll smile and watch the sunrise. I'll cry and watch it leave.
That pattern is here and keeps its hold on me.
Touch isn't hard enough.
Hearing isn't loud enough.
Seeing isn't aesthetic enough.
Smell isn't as fragrant
Taste isn't as pleasing.
Feeling Intangibles. That's the only sense present.
Walking alone at 4 a.m
The rain doesn't feel wet enough
The music i listen to isn't sad enough
Words i read aren't descriptive enough
My bloody nose isn't appropriate enough
bitterness doesn't taste bitter enough...
She'll ask me "how are you."
I'll say "I'm fine"
I'm fine.
I'm lying.
I'm fine.
I won't escape my head. Thoughts are here to stay. Hope is gonna be the death of me. But i'd rather die believing there is possibility (even at it's ridiculously smallest chance) as opposed to having no hope at all. And what sick allegorical meaning the word hope has right now.
Here it is. I'm talking to myself again. Can i shatter some more please? This crystallized structure i work so hard to create only lasts to an extent. Wouldn't you know it? How much you can vent when in lack of emotion. Words constructed to open up everything i never spoke. The words i love to choke. The words you wanted to know. You held that book of secrets and didn't wanna let go. Don't pretend you weren't intrigued. More than once i caught you trying to read. As chance would have it here it is.
This is how it begun. Raw and bland in it's full obscure extent.
"I really care for once... and that's an understatement."
So meaningless though. At least to one of us. You want that book to shut.
Isn't it true? truth just bit. No matter how hard i try i can't match its wit.
So i'll just dry my clothes,
Take my headphones off,
Close this book,
Wipe the blood from my nose,
Spit out any bitterness.
Nothing overcomes this intangible sense.
It has become far too immense.
and in all this resistance
all this indifference.
I swear to god
I've got no defense.
I'll smile and watch the sunrise. I'll cry and watch it leave.
That pattern is here to stay and keeps its hold on me.
20090427
Pen to Page
Classes are coming to a close and so many other things are as well. It feels like this happens over and over again. A blanket of worries disappears quicker than a magic trick when the semester starts diminishing. It's like a long chapter of odd structure, mystery, cynicism, and fear comes to an abrupt ending.
I close my eyes and reopen them.
I see black spots in the air as though i just awoke and the room was slightly spinning. Off balance i stagger a step or two
Blink slowly again and reopen
I find myself looking at green grass under a warm sun whose beams make everything a little less dull and a little more shinny. Enchanting how something unclear and in disarray turns into something bright and shiny in the matter of seconds. That fresh feeling alone is worth living. Slowly walking through the soft blades from which fireflies were emerging i could hear a tune reminiscent, appropriate, and capturing. All the worry, stress, pain, desire, death, awakening in abstract proportions. In the time frame of a song these emotional states replay themselves in their previous forms. And all these previous states, in older moments meant everything, now are laughable memories. A chapter just closed on me again and looking back it always seems humorous and ironic the way such chapter played out.
Blink
A feeling of being born again washes over me as i look around and observe the people surrounding. For once, everyone else seems a little out of place....not me. For once, everyone else seems a little unsure of themselves. For once, everyone else has writers block. It's almost as though i knew a chain of events would lead up to this day, i just always doubted it would happen. A day where everything summarizes itself and the bigger mysterious picture i've worked so hard to create actually became evident. I've gone beyond myself.
I blink again. A tear breaks
Now knowing my full accountability for the chapter that follows, I find myself holding a pen full of ink. Hovering over a piece of paper, I start thinking to myself. In the last chapter, i questioned ever finishing this book, how it would look in the end, and pondered it's meaning (if any)....
How about this chapter i enjoy simply writing the book instead? Yea..... Yea I like that idea.
Eyes Closed. Deep Breath. Exhale and Release. Reopen.
Write.
I close my eyes and reopen them.
I see black spots in the air as though i just awoke and the room was slightly spinning. Off balance i stagger a step or two
Blink slowly again and reopen
I find myself looking at green grass under a warm sun whose beams make everything a little less dull and a little more shinny. Enchanting how something unclear and in disarray turns into something bright and shiny in the matter of seconds. That fresh feeling alone is worth living. Slowly walking through the soft blades from which fireflies were emerging i could hear a tune reminiscent, appropriate, and capturing. All the worry, stress, pain, desire, death, awakening in abstract proportions. In the time frame of a song these emotional states replay themselves in their previous forms. And all these previous states, in older moments meant everything, now are laughable memories. A chapter just closed on me again and looking back it always seems humorous and ironic the way such chapter played out.
Blink
A feeling of being born again washes over me as i look around and observe the people surrounding. For once, everyone else seems a little out of place....not me. For once, everyone else seems a little unsure of themselves. For once, everyone else has writers block. It's almost as though i knew a chain of events would lead up to this day, i just always doubted it would happen. A day where everything summarizes itself and the bigger mysterious picture i've worked so hard to create actually became evident. I've gone beyond myself.
I blink again. A tear breaks
Now knowing my full accountability for the chapter that follows, I find myself holding a pen full of ink. Hovering over a piece of paper, I start thinking to myself. In the last chapter, i questioned ever finishing this book, how it would look in the end, and pondered it's meaning (if any)....
How about this chapter i enjoy simply writing the book instead? Yea..... Yea I like that idea.
Eyes Closed. Deep Breath. Exhale and Release. Reopen.
Write.
20090417
A Thursday Night
1 a.m i come home from a show, one of my roommates is pounding on his bathroom floor cause he's on a trip. Every 15 minutes he screams at the top of his lungs like he has turrets. Natty light in hand. He takes another sip. The sirens roar outside. I look out the window. Someone just got arrested. Banging on my front door presents itself. two guys prepped up in khakis and polo came over to kick my other 2 roommates asses. They owed drug money. I said sure i'll leave a message. Walking through a kitchen full of wreckage, i left a message written in ink. I taped it right above the sink. I thought there it was somewhat obvious. But so is getting a life. I give them too much credit sometimes, despite how sad it is. Cars drive by with music blasted. Past the point of discernment. To them, this is culture. This is life. This is what's accepted. Altering the mind with heroin injected. Writing a brief is proving to be hectic.
20090416
this book is coming to an end
You didn't have the guts enough
to tell it to my face
You were too sensitive
to call me a waste
times that i needed you
you laughed and looked away
your immature to my dismay
I'm just piecing it together
this process was much too slow
you need help more than me
but you'll never see
you'll never know
in all this cynicism
all this disbelief
all this insecurity
all this omniscience
all these false hopes
all these false dreams
all my wishful thinking
The last thing i wanted was for you to prove me right
The pattern continues
the lights again fade
i feel as though
I'll always feel this way
you wanted something constant
here it is
this cycle, this sad routine, this trend
It's become clear
that was the last time we became friends
that was it
no more effort
we're not worried anymore
we're not concerned
feelings follow up with burns
lesson learned lesson learned
this is the moment it all makes sense
we're better off in each others absence
officially invisible
no longer a friend
not yours truly,
stephen
to tell it to my face
You were too sensitive
to call me a waste
times that i needed you
you laughed and looked away
your immature to my dismay
I'm just piecing it together
this process was much too slow
you need help more than me
but you'll never see
you'll never know
in all this cynicism
all this disbelief
all this insecurity
all this omniscience
all these false hopes
all these false dreams
all my wishful thinking
The last thing i wanted was for you to prove me right
The pattern continues
the lights again fade
i feel as though
I'll always feel this way
you wanted something constant
here it is
this cycle, this sad routine, this trend
It's become clear
that was the last time we became friends
that was it
no more effort
we're not worried anymore
we're not concerned
feelings follow up with burns
lesson learned lesson learned
this is the moment it all makes sense
we're better off in each others absence
officially invisible
no longer a friend
not yours truly,
stephen
20090415
Killer Bees
All i know, is this is starting to sting
the aftermath is overwhelming
Sweet was just a trap
but i came back for more
These burns I thought i could endure
Out in the open
caught me out in the open
I was there willingly
blindingly hoping
a payoff would result
we both got hurt, that's my fault
I wanted something not meant for me
you knew it was only temporary
you played along until i got too close
that's where you stung, where it hurt the most
the needle's fixed in my skin
and i don't know where to begin
to take that piece of you out
will i ever know how?
Supposedly wounds heal in time
but marks they leave are left to remind
when your welcome and when to leave
when to run and when to believe
I wish i never begun
to get so close cause I got stung
confusing wants, confusing needs
sweet will sometimes make you bleed
the aftermath is overwhelming
Sweet was just a trap
but i came back for more
These burns I thought i could endure
Out in the open
caught me out in the open
I was there willingly
blindingly hoping
a payoff would result
we both got hurt, that's my fault
I wanted something not meant for me
you knew it was only temporary
you played along until i got too close
that's where you stung, where it hurt the most
the needle's fixed in my skin
and i don't know where to begin
to take that piece of you out
will i ever know how?
Supposedly wounds heal in time
but marks they leave are left to remind
when your welcome and when to leave
when to run and when to believe
I wish i never begun
to get so close cause I got stung
confusing wants, confusing needs
sweet will sometimes make you bleed
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