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Something that is really irritating me lately is the debate, especially in the U.S., regarding who deserves what, and what has occurred to me is that with regard to human rights the idea of deserving is completely irrelevant. The second amendment in the U.S. Constitution grants freedom of speech, there is no clause on their stating that you can't say what you want if you are a bigot, or insane, or just an awful person etc... etc...

While his name escapes me at the moment, the fellow from Duck Dynasty has been the latest magnet for this topic, I really don't care about what he has to say anymore than anyone else I disagree with on such a fundamental level, but I'm glad he can freely speak his mind. That way I know that such foolishness, in my opinion, exists and don't have to wonder about what hateful things people believe. Frankly I think Christian conservatives are perverts, not that there is really anything wrong with that, but it is the hypocrisy of their perversion. Christian conservatives believe that it is okay to be concerned with the sexual interactions of others for the purpose of condemnation, but that to be interested in the sexual activities of other because what they are doing might be pleasurable, and something you might also want to join in on, is not acceptable. WTF????

There is also the right to healthcare, in the U.S. we have the obligation to pay for health insurance, but there is no guarantee of uniformity or quality of coverage. Most people are unaware of how few choices we have for healthcare in the U.S. because we are all too busy passing judgment about who should have access to healthcare. We in the U.S. have the obligation to pay private industry for insurance but few guarantees of the level benefits we will receive.

In general here in the U.S. we are all in support of other people rights as long as the rights of others don't cost anything monetarily or conflict with our own personal brand of superstition. Put simply if you are Christian and rich, life is just peachy, but if you are poor and or not prone to the Judea Christian brand of superstition then you are going to have problems. The right to espouse about your Christian beliefs and the right to make money at the expense of others is king in the United States, and you are a stupid socialist/communist if you believe anything else. I guess that is what makes me out-of-place.

some days it guts me to know i won't be a father.

some days it guts me that i'll never write another hard rain's gonna fall.

some days it guts me to wonder if.

some days i want to make cocktails for everyone.

some days i wanna do wrong.

some days i don't wanna care.

some days being politic is dreadful.

some days being lonely feels good.

some days being loved hurts.

back to lulu. back to i want another life.

it wears me out.

FIFTY-SIX knows...

the guy at a motel in green river wyoming reading jimmy corrigan.

i want to, i want to be someone else

i'd move to berlin and make people coffee.

that's what i'd do.

TOO MUCH GUILT

THE TRUTH WILL MESS YOU UP

Please stand up for Tibet

http://standupfortibet.org/take-action-world-leaders/

This is how it starts

This is how it ends

right?

right.

oof

missing in action

missing inaction

what to do what to do

she's a swimmer

diving in

dripping wet

toweling off

she dives in again

stretched

snapped

broken

she dives in again

climbing

suspension

disbelief

the water's cold

are those sharks?

dry land

safe distance

boring boring

play politics

keep quiet

slowly crumble

just missing now

vacant staring

are those sharks?

real or imaginary

doesn't matter

anymore

make it matter.

forevermore.

There'll be time to get by to get dry after the swimming pool
There'll be time to just cry I wonder why it didn't work out
Therell be time to fish fry this letter is by yours truly
Yours truly

Now someone in my dictionary's up to no good
I never find the very special words I should
So I have another party with a water glass
And I sit on all your actions it's a birthing game
And I'll bet he needs a shower cause he's just like me
I know the soldiers in the painting I know your secret face
Well your parrot told me just how I can make you smile
Gonna let you do your thinking if you need awhile
But what I gave you made him get mad
A little bit funny how a thing like that
Could travel from one mouth in through another
And the next thing you know you gotta hear it from your brother and
The words they sting like a stump of old wasps
Remember when I said go throw that rock in there
And we ran through the woods to your good house
You forgot about the things that he could say like
I don't think that I like you anymore
Well I found new feelings at the feeling store
And I can't find you at our kissing place
And I'm scared of those new pair of eyes you have

So I duck out and go down to find the swimming pool
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet my feet I'll find a swimming pool
Cause when I'm snuffed out I doubt I'll find a swimming pool
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet my feet I'll find a swimming pool

But I don't wish that I was dead
A very old friend of mine once said
That either way you look at it you have your fits
I have my fits but feeling is good
Confusions not a kidney stone in my brain
But if miscommunicated do we feel the same? 
Then either way you look at it you'll have your fits
I have my fits but feeling is good

You gotta give a little you gotta get a little bit

I...

Please take action

http://standupfortibet.org/global-action/10-march-uprising/

I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth art, forgone all custom of exercises expression; and indeed, it goes so heavily oddly with my disposition that this goodly frame aging body, the earth me, seems to me a sterile promontory an unknown and seemingly new person.

What did you see there?

making movies with my friends, skateboarding up and down the block, cycling on country roads and through small towns, playing role-playing games, being a member of the local swim team, jumping off the third deck, playing lazer tag, student council, making popcorn for intermissions, touring plays to libraries, dominating Europe through Diplomacy, participating in YMCA Soccer and Flag Football, playing with cars, creating elaborate scenarios with action figures, going to country music jamborees, camping in Colorado, bit by a cat behind the pepsi machine, snowball fights, kick the can, lighting matches in the closet, pouting over tennis shoes, wearing generra, performing at renaissance festivals, collecting comic books, basketball in the neighbor’s driveway, buying the yearly xmas ornament, driving too fast through small towns, exploring the parks of wilderness outside of town, losing a shoe forever in the creek behind the house, frequenting video game parlors, going to the zoo, watching soaps while out sick from school, going home for lunch, graduating from cub scouts to boy scouts, nachos on christmas eve, making mix tapes, hanging out on Saturdays at the indie record store, starting a political party at school, nature walks, having a crush, making up my own players and teams on Playmaker Football, putting puzzles together on new year’s day, building a group of superheroes with legos,  creating a comic book with said group of superheroes, building houses of cards on the living room floor, mowing the lawn, shoveling the sidewalk, reading books in the sun room, making out by the lake, acid in the woods, dreaming under the stars and mountains while foi na cruz plays on the walkman, imagining myself as luke skywalker, indiana jones, and marty mcfly, birthdays in Memorial Stadium, opus in his tent, patting my lap and having Shadow come running

_____

i think about death a lot now.  

receding

receded

recession

spin spin spin

where is it going.

where does it end.

one more slip.

one more push.

blindness.

(work. eat. sleep.

work. eat. sleep.

work. eat. sleep.

death.)

think of me then.

think of me then.

as i will think of you.

shining up above.

shining all around.

carrying on.

going forth.

laughing in that bar.

smiling in that park.

thinking of what was.

and what was.

just a story to be told now.

like it wasn't even you.

but now.

now

is all awake.

i think you're crazy

maybe

it's just me.

somehow incomplete.

forming again.

coming into focus.

losing it agian.

asleep in the back seat.

street lights dropping in the window.

warm midsummer's night.

tinny AM from the speakers.

out of control. too long away.

can't make it til home.

slowly rolling past a semi.

the metronome of chains hanging off.

the whirr of tires on pavement.

almost not moving. and yet.

slumber.

tomorrow I'll wake up in my bed.

carried up the stairs the night before.

in my room.

everything familiar once again.

the tethering not as needed.

the terrain less foreign.

that's the 8 year-old i will never meet myself.

i will not recall him in this moment when he is older.

in a moment of reflection.

after a success.

following a disappointment.

i won't be able to trace his life back to a moment.

no connective tissue.

no chain of memories.

in the end.

left with me.

I’m sorry that I’m late
I went blind
I got confetti in my eyes
I was held up at yesterday’s parties
I was needed on the congo line

But my dear, oh my dear
I’d like to fight the good fight for another couple of years
‘cause to say the war is over is to say you are a widow

You’re not a widow yet!
You’re not a widow yet!
You’re not a widow yet!
You’re not a widow yet!

So this one’s for the critics and their disappointed mothers
For the cupid and the hunter shooting arrows at each other
Ain’t no such thing as a saint,
Ain’t no such thing as a sinner

There’s a swan among the pigeons of Barcelona’s floor
There’s a Samson with Delilahs lining up outside the door
If you are sharpening your scissors
I am sharpening my scissors,
And I am sharpening my sword
So you can take me to the dragon’s lair
Or you can take me to Rapunzel’s windowsill
Either way it is time for a bigger kind of kill…
A bigger kind of kill.

Oh I see your face when I close my eyes
Oh I see the muscles in your legs from the way you always rise
To the occasion of catching things that fall
Like the statuettes on pedestals I tend to build too tall.
But I have navigated Iceland
I’ve laid my claim on Portugal
I have seen into the wasteland
Oh the future
Oh the future of us all.

i kicked up a whole country
of dead, dead leaves last fall
i kicked up a whole country
of dead, dead leaves last fall
Dead leaves
Dead leaves
Dead leaves
Dead leaves

Seen from the back of a train
I rode away from your station
They drifted in the air
Like memoirs of old conversations
Sprung from a leather case
You opened in the wind
To watch the papers chase each other
Into oblivion

(You’re such a champion
You’re such a champion
I hide behind your sun
You are the champion)

So you can take me to the dragon’s lair
You can take me to Rapunzel’s windowsill
Either way it is time, oh it is time
For a bigger kind of kill…

A bigger kind of kill

-Dragon's Lair from Dragonslayer by Sunset Rubdown

she followed me home from that crap crichton film.

(i had hurt her several years earlier.  she was younger.  i was doing the right thing.  but still.  it was hard.  on my bday no less.  but.  these are the decisions we sometimes make.)

i parked the car in the little gravel lot and went inside.  two minutes later there was a knock at the door.  and there she was. standing in my doorway. with a little smile, a little wave, and a little "hi."

(it's not like we didn't see each other.  we did.  for a while.  but then.  well.  we were pulled in new directions. which was kind of the point in the first place.  to be pulled in new directions.  or at least go if we wanted.)

punched in the gut i was.  it had been some time since i had seen her.  it was the summer before i moved away.  never to really return.  and it was after.  well:  done unto me as i done unto her.

(she was my first.  not that first.  the better kind of first.)

she said she saw me downtown.  had been thinking about me, decided to surprise.  and surprise she did. wanted to come in.  wanted to talk.  of course...

(i don't know if i'd been thinking about her.  years later i was.   i lost track of her for many many years.  heard vague things.  nothing concrete.  found her eventually.  sent the e off, got a reply- vague, travelled, distant.  a touch mysterious.  i replied in kind.  then nothing.  nothing at all.)

i introduced her to my roommate who kindly excused himself.  she looked good.  but like a kid sister. not a. we talked a bit.  her in the chair in the corner.  me on the couch.  comfortable.distance.  weird - her in my "apartment." out of place.  we weren't at that stage back then.  of having apartments.  all finished basements and backseats and curfews.  she was relaxed.  i wasn't.  nervous. as i was generally. (and probably still am.) she asked - shall we go for a drive. out to the lake.  and then i started getting more nervous.

(after saying "sure" in as "whatever" kind of way possible.  i excused myself to the bathroom where i prompty puked.)

we got in her car.  the accord.  she had pulled up and parked right behind my car.  her front nestling against my back.  and we drove out in the darkness to the lake on the other edge of town.

(it should be obvious by now - this is something we sometimes did.  not just this lake but many.  in town or out in the country.  drive out and park.  in fact.  it's where it all ended.  by a lake.  out of town though.  not the one we were headed to.)

we parked and went off for a walk on the dam.  i think i smoked.

(i did that then.  but not before.  not around her.  oh no.)

which was awful but i was so jangly.  nervy.  we walked the length and walked the length back.  talked and talked.  where were we going.  what was this.

(i probably knew but  didn't.)

we drove back to the apartment.  it was late now and talked more.  she talked of her boyfriend.  we talked of the gift he gave her.

(we had a thing.  started on our 6 month.  i gave her a bead for every month together.  she loved it.  she loved the necklace it became.  

she earlier told me that winter while on an out-of-town trip, it snapped in the snow. shear panic had set in and she plunged in trying to get them all.  she couldn't.  some months were gone.  she could tell you which bead was what month.  thought she didn't tell me which months were lost.)

a waterford crystal clock.  that's what he gave her.  a college freshman giving another college freshman a waterford clock as a present.  and she looked at me when she said it.  she looked right into me.

and then it was clear why she was there.  and i think i wanted to.  i think i did.  but i didn't.  i couldn't.  i was going.  she was...going.  somewhere.  somewhere she probably didn't want to go.

and she left.  and i watched her go.  watched her get into the blue accord.  and drove off.  never to see her again.

(until K---- S---- would like to be Added As Your Friend)

Well.  Hello.

...drips in saudade...

...fixed in my head...

...don't ever leave...

......... never............

Swinging in the backyard
Pull up in your fast car
Whistling my name

Open up a beer
And you take it over here
And play a video game

I'm in his favorite sun dress
Watching me get undressed
Take that body downtown

I say you the bestest
Lean in for a big kiss
Put his favorite perfume on

Go play a video game

It's you, it's you, it's all for you
Everything I do
I tell you all the time
Heaven is a place on earth with you
Tell me all the things you want to do
I heard that you like the bad girls
Honey, is that true?
It's better than I ever even knew
They say that the world was built for two
Only worth living if somebody is loving you
Baby now you do

Singing in the old bars
Swinging with the old stars
Living for the fame

Kissing in the blue dark
Playing pool and wild darts
Video games

He holds me in his big arms
Drunk and I am seeing stars
This is all I think of

Watching all our friends fall
In and out of Old Paul's
This is my idea of fun
Playing video games

It's you, it's you, it's all for you
Everything I do
I tell you all the time
Heaven is a place on earth with you
Tell me all the things you want to do
I heard that you like the bad girls
Honey, is that true?
It's better than I ever even knew
They say that the world was built for two
Only worth living if somebody is loving you
Baby now you do

(Now you do)

It's you, it's you, it's all for you
Everything I do
I tell you all the time
Heaven is a place on earth with you
Tell me all the things you want to do
I heard that you like the bad girls
Honey, is that true?
It's better than I ever even knew
They say that the world was built for two
Only worth living if somebody is loving you
Baby now you do

Build it new old again

Build it old new again

first person out of third person

:

As my eyes greeted new dawn, the morning after the solution to my greatest Problem became clear, I reached my arm over to her side of the bed, which was cold and uninhabited.  As I twisted my head to the right, my sight reinforced what my touch first communicated to me:  She was not there.  I grasped the opposite side of the bed and pulled as my body slid across the open land of the mattress until my head broke the plane and I was peering at the floor.  I noticed the white carpet below me looked darker, sort of dirty, stained perhaps.  I slowly lowered my right index finger until it made contact with the now gray carpet.

            The white shag carpet was cold and as my finger kept pushing, moisture encompassed it.  I found this quite odd, unsettling.  I worked my hands around the bed and pulled until I was overlooking the foot of the bed.  There on the floor was a very clear definitive line of moisture that intersected perpendicularly with the bed, halving it at my side and hers, my side dry her side wet.  This interested me greatly.  I pulled myself back to her side of the bed and flopped my feet on the wet carpet.  I stood in the center of the soaking wet carpet and stared down at my feet, which were growing wetter and colder.  I bounced a little so that the water squirted out under the sides of my feet.  I stared at the carpet.  There were no other footprints to be found.  I was reminded, quite unexpectedly of a story I heard years ago.  Apparently there was this odd damp spot on the floor when Vivien Leigh died, which had always puzzled me.  I thought it seemed strange to be having that thought at this moment.  Until I remembered that people often compared me to Laurence Olivier, looks wise at least, and then, then it all seemed clear (as mud).

i

i

i

fight the urge to ruminate.  to self-reflect. to get sentimental.

to label it all a disappointment. an unfulfilled potential. a distracted existence.

why are you? tricky that.

there's a great tension between you are and you want. to be like him, like him, with friends posess'd.

i feel the other me.  the one i see in my mind.  what he's doing. who he's with. where he lives. what's important to him.  what he values. who he is.  why he is.

and he's me. and he's not me. the me i want to be. the me i'm scared to be. the me i'm not. and yet. the me i am. and the me i'm not.

did he do the things i've done.

did he drive i80 on a dark night in the pouring pouring rain while mazzy star played through it all.  with his dad sitting next to him. proud of who he was and what he was becoming.

years later did he provoke him to walking home 3 miles because him couldn't abide being in the car with he.  when we were moving house. moving away from the only town him'd ever called home.  taking the biggest risk him's ever taken. and in the end, failed at.

and does it register with him today. or does it not.  he thinks he feels the disappointment when they talk sometimes and it does bring concern. he wants more for him and more for he.

and now that he's older, and he's looking at where he is in his life and what he's accomplished and is scared that he might be done doing done creating and he looks at him. who's resigned. and is that what he has to look forward to.

or does he say fuck it.

and is he glist-e-ning.

he sees the ramifications.

he knows the risks.

he possesses the fear. or the ambivalence. or the tire.

will i say fuck it.

will i glisten?

ADDENDUM

want to devour the beauty on the street.

these shoes aren't helping my gait.

excellent roommates indeed.

ends up dreadful drivel.

infected texts.

good old neon kind of year.