Scraps of the past

My head is constantly storming

My thoughts and ideas and memories bounce my head around like a jar full of butterflies and hornets and bumblebees all trying to crack the glass

The things that matter, the things that stick, aren't what most would consider important

I tend to toss out the hundred dollar bills and keep the rusty old pennies

Memories come and go like flashes of a headlight through drawn blinds

When I think of my childhood, I don't get a neat array of significant instances of learning and growth

I receive a tangled mess of moments that for some reason I choose to remember

I see myself riding my bicycle on a bumpy dirt course and some neighbor boys detonating a soda bottle bomb on the trail

I recall my brother spitting out poison onto the cement floor, hysteria, and flashing lights

I think of the many nights we crept out of our house to watch a wolf spider quietly construct it's web 

I can still envision distinct dreams, including my worst occurring nightmares I can't even repeat aloud

I think of digging that junky wooden crate out of the sand and using it as a raft to sail across the seven seas

I cringe picturing how I had scooped up a garter snake with a shovel and tossed it over the fence into someone else's backyard

I remember transforming our ping pong table into an alien spaceship and cutting open stuffed animals as certified veterinarians 

And I remember a whole bunch of other scraps of the past, but they're all so jumbled and incoherent

The only thing I could really tell you about my childhood is that it was so much lighter

I don't remember the day I began caring about what other people thought of me

I don't remember the exact moment I felt like my accomplishments didn't matter
Or the day I doubted that there was a supreme being or a purpose to anything

Can't think of the last time I looked in the mirror and accepted my reflection for what it is
Or the last time my parents told each other they loved each other, much less showed it

Honestly, there's a lot of things I wish I could remember, but I just can't

It feels like these past few years have been washed over with a dull shade of grey
and instead of living in brightness, I'm always craving a speck of it to hold on to

I wonder when I got like this... when I started remembering memories


and wanting to go back.

"Most people don't care if you're telling the truth or telling a lie, as long as they're entertained by it."
-Tom Waits

Pandemonium

yesterday I noticed something I shouldn't have

You try to cover it up, but sooner or later someone will notice

I was that person

now I'm torn between how to react


the most prevalent, uncomplicated course of action would be to ignore it

it's their business what they do to themselves

"you can't control their actions, you can't change them" they say


He seems impossibly content and his smile never wavers

But this boy is bleeding

this young, rare, beautiful soul is suffering and i'm not supposed to say anything


it's not his fault he was born into a world that destroys you from the inside out

warping our self-perception and starving our hearts of love and acceptance

we are all victims of vindictive thoughts and absurd ideals

we are our worst critics, bred by our toxic surroundings



how do I express affection in a glacial society

how do I justify the tears I shed last night over a stranger



if you're lost, please hold on to me, for I am too

but maybe together we'd break through the surface of this heavy darkness

maybe we could find some light filtering through the abyss


I wish I could understand why you gave yourself those scars

I wish we could discuss it openly like we discuss authentic horror movies

because this is the worst one I've seen so far, and it's not scripted

someone tell me

why do the best people experience the worst kind of pain?

Before you glue me down

I'm the shade of a murky russet mud puddle.

I have sharp edges that have been weathered down to curves, and a rough exterior that gets more jagged the longer I survive.

I've cracked repeatedly from all the times I've been thrown or stepped on, chipped from the ways I've been tossed and piled, but I haven't been broken. 

I'm still one sloppy slab of clay and shale.

But why do you insist on stacking me with all the others? Can't you see I'm more than that?

I don't want to be cemented to this wall, stuck in this crevice where I am weighed down and applied pressure from all angles, forever sentenced to a state of structure and immobility.

Please, dear builder- before you slather me in paste and make this spot my permanent residence, consider what I want.

I want to weigh down your paper as you sketch the Colosseum. I want you to take me everywhere and use me to support your growing supply of books and journals. I want you to take me camping and let me border your fire pit, or pin down the edges of your tent. I want to be tucked under your tire as you park your car on Filbert street.  I want your umbrella to lean on me while you build sandcastles and catch crabs on the coast of Australia. I want to secure your fishing rod while you bask along the San Francisco boardwalk.

I want you to paint me when you're happy and break me when your angry. I want you to piece me back together.

And when you're finally through with me, I want you to scream and hurl me into the pacific, where I'll discover the bottom of the ocean and rest along the sand as the saltwater digs through my cracks and breaks me down into sediments, or wash up on the shore hundreds of years from now as a remnant of a long lost world.

Please, don't imprison me here. Because I have more purpose out there than I ever will here.

A Eulogy To Past Friendships

#1- We broke crayons together. Scribbled on the walls and smeared finger paint on every empty canvas. A day with you meant hide and seek. Gourmet mud cakes. Sticky Popsicle hands and vibrant tongues. We'd scream and throw tantrums and scrape up our knees and catch each other in butterfly nets. I don't remember your name, but I know back then, things were simpler. If we were trapped in the same room together, we were best friends. Period.

#2- It was just a serendipitous instance of laughter that drew us together, and we never stopped laughing after that. You were the best friend anyone could ask for. When I think of you, I reminisce surgically manufactured four leaf clovers. Raiding your pantry for sweets. Static lightning in our hair from your trampoline. Performing raps about early american settlements and The Battle of the Alamo, Yo.  Half court shots in basketball games. You were impossibly kind and loyal and always armed with a smile. I still regret drifting apart.

#3-You were contrary to anyone I'd ever met, and you perceived things in a way no one could. With you, my imagination ran through fields of daisies and over snow capped mountains and through poisonous jungles. Every day was a fantastical journey through the dimension of our collaborating minds. Summers were when our friendship thrived, the time to whip up smoothie supernovas and innovatively sell lemonade and rescue each other from the dungeon of some dark hooded figure who planned on extracting our rare powers of levitation. We were peas in a pod, you and I, although, no matter how many episodes I sat through, suffered through, or slept through, I never did get into anime.

#4- The first word that pops into my head is wild. Who knows how we became friends in the first place, but it was kind of the classic setup. Outgoing spontaneous free spirit paired with a shy quirky oddball. Introducing gossip, first crushes, contrasting opinions, trespassing, drama, and competition. I liked it when you took control, admired you for it. You had a contagious laugh and a charming character. Every day you conquered the stage while I settled with the role of ensemble. It really didn't come as a surprise when you replaced me for the "popular" crowd. I was never cut out to be an actor.

#5- Middle school. Ugh. After a nearly friendless void known as seventh grade, I met you in creative writing, and we bonded over story prompts and critiquing our works and my obsession of creating bone-chilling horror stories with a sickening plot twist at the end. You were calm and collected, but found humor in little things and were marvelous in your own way. Being around you brought out the psychotic weirdo in me, the one that cracks jokes left and right and welcomes a healthy quantity of embarrassment. Without you, I probably wouldn't be the same person I am today.

#6- This is where I learned how to be "cool". (I'm afraid this line isn't very accurate. I mean, have you met me? Yeah, no) You always had your crew surrounding you and a reputation to uphold. A description that would do you justice would have to be bold, daring, funny, assertive, witty, and just plain primo with a touch of rebellion. As we grew closer and started hanging out regularly, we did the outrageous and unthinkable, and made so many unforgettable memories. My fair weather friend, we always had fun- you weren't one to display any weakness or grim emotion, and looking back, I used to have a perpetual desire to prove myself around you, which is the one thing I don't miss.

#7- I didn't want to be friends at the time. We didn't associate even though you lived right around the block, and I wanted to keep it that way. Of course, the mothers stepped in and practically set up a play date for their two teenagers. I whined and complained and resisted, but the instant we were together, things just clicked. It was like the universe wanted it to be, and we've never stopped being there for each other since. You're someone I have no boundaries with, someone I tell all my secrets to, someone who shares the same passion for music and someone who has a mutual understanding for me as I do for them. Cheers to all the crazy times we've had- skinny dipping at Huntington, admiring meteor showers in the same sleeping bag, writing stories together, sugar-induced comatose, meditation, concerts and band practice, crashing stake dances, intellectual cabin talk, graveyards and late night horror films, coping with high school drama- and cheers to the good times to come! Sometimes you forget how extraordinary you really are. Just remember, if you are reading this, that no matter what happens, I've got your back, and with the years that will pass us by, as we change and age and grow and drift towards different directions, our paths will always be drawn back to each other.

#8- No matter what I say about you, it will always be too little. I apologize in advance for being so vague. There's no way we will ever be apart- that's right, you're stuck with me. Living without you in my life isn't a possibility; I wouldn't be able to go on. I know more about you than you probably do. You're so weird and wonderful and smart and so many more things I couldn't possibly attempt to squeeze in here. I'm not going to say any more than that.

#9- I spend every living, breathing moment with you. You live inside me, and the more alone I am, the more you pour out of me. We share every heartbreak, think the same thoughts, produce every tear, value every accomplishment, love all the same people, and experience every moment of pure joy. I hope you don't change too much, because I really do like you the way you are, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that.

#10- ....Hey there. So.... yeah. If you made it through this entire lengthy post, kudos to you. I'm sure this has been an extreme trial of your mental endurance, and for that I am very impressed. You must think that I go through friends like one goes through tennis shoes, and I can assure you that isn't true. I apologize to all of the many individuals I left out, and my perhaps brutal honesty of each friendship. I learned so much from these people, and they've all had an irreversible impact on my character. I've been extremely fortunate to have had them in my life. Now, the reason you're number ten is because I want you to be my friend. We can be acquaintances, friends for a couple days, friends for a season, or friends until death do we part, or past that- it's up to you. But I promise I'd accept you for who you are, just talk to me. We may be absolute strangers right now, but that's how every friendship starts out, so.... let's change that.

Comfortably detached

He is a name everyone's heard and no one criticizes

His "flaws" are numerous, yet they make him distinct and refreshingly original

Every time we spoke, my words never came out quite right, and I'd stutter or say the next stupid thing my brain strung together in attempt to make him smile

Whenever I'd succeed, my world would blaze in technicolor, and I'd wish the vinyl of time would get stuck in repeat so I could witness that smile over and over again

I wonder if our friendship was mandatory, and the plans we made were similiar to the way you promise to fix that creaky door hinge when you have spare time

He's better than summer sprints at the break of dawn, than midnight bike rides along an empty highway

Being around him was like being on Mercury, in a euphoric orbit around the sun

But now he's gone. 

I knew I'd regret the barrier I put up, I knew I'd become infuriated with how stubbornly shy I was, I knew I'd miss the way he told me I was his favorite, and I knew I'd wish I'd been more bold and pretended to be something I'm evidently not.

I knew I'd miss him...

...But I also knew I'd move on


Because that's how I am. I like to keep a watchful distance, comfortably detached. I insulate my feelings and avoid the vulnerability of being unguarded and uncircumspect. I try not to care too much because I know if I do I won't be able to stop. I'm all battered and worn in like a baseball glove, but I've never busted the seams. I'll take the bruises, I'll take the cracks and dents and dings. Cause truth is, I'd rather be crushed than shattered.


I know it's guaranteed to happen sooner or later, and whenever that may be, tomorrow or a month or a year or a decade from now, I can only hope it's worth it, and I don't use that infamous eight lettered phrase until I actually mean it.

Another Stupid Story

"There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls" -George Carlin

There was once a boy

His eyes were bright like the sun, he had a smile of opulent gold

His soul was warm and full, he had never known the cold

Everywhere he went, he dispersed a blinding light

People were drawn to his splendor, he was a rare & radiant sight

There was once a girl

Her skin was pale, her hair dark, her eyes were glazed with wonder

She preferred the darkness, existed in the shadows, enjoyed the rain and thunder

She didn't try to gain attention, popularity, prestige, or acceptance

She was shy, she was different, she was a glimmer of light that held a quiet transcendence

Among all that he met, she was unusual and offbeat

Instead of being blinded, she reflected a silvery beam- quiet, soft, discreet

He was intrigued by her obscurity, and travelled across the sky

Hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl with a flicker in her eye

They collided, and as the story goes, things were never quite the same

From her the boy met darkness, from him the girl gathered embers from the flame

And together they made the stars.

One Massive Masquerade

Here we go-

stretch out your muscles, pin back your hair, rehearse your routine, 

step into society's spotlight

It's time to participate in this daily dance

a graceful deception of our imperfect souls 

to only showcase what the audience will clap for

               or notice

               notice

how you'll hold back laughter if others stay silent

how people will criticize the misunderstood while actually consoling their own insecurities

how one girl eats alone everyday and you'll just assume it's not your problem to fix

how revealing an exclusive part of you causes them to walk away

how when tragedy strikes their sympathy feels transparent

how some people won't eat in public due to some strange new trend

how you bite your tongue and replace an opinion with a nod

how a greeting will never run deeper than "how are you" and "I'm good"

how the word love is tossed around but rarely permanent

how that boy wears a hat to shade his forged smile

how you'll fly through the motions and forget that you're the pilot


...have you noticed yet?


when it all just feels off

and your subconscious has a funny feeling, like the dawn of a calamity, when the waves recede from the shore or when tiny tremors shake the earth and the birds flee to the atmosphere

If you squint at the distorted image laid before you, it'll start to unravel

this is where you decide to stitch it back together or to rip it apart at the seams

continue this exhausting dance, or take a bow?

because when you're real, you're going to discover real people, and that's when you'll form real relationships and have real conversations and seize the chance to really live

don't hide your flaws, because being human is what we're good at. we are all remarkably shallow and incomprehensibly deep at the same time-

don't aim for perfection, because that's something no one achieves until they stop aiming for it



so this is me.

I'll laugh until I snort--- stay loyal to the people I care about--- love and never stop loving--- reach out to the castaways and pull them in--- eat what I crave and with no manners whatsoever--- voice my opinion when I want to be heard--- and try my best to make every day a little strange and a little unorthodox and a little extraordinary.