Savor It

I try to make sense of what I'm feeling
The hurt comes in waves-washes over me
Steals my focus and robs my peace of mind
I love you unfailingly
I tell myself I should appreciate the pain
Appreciate the fact that I can feel so deeply and so truly for another person
It means I'm alive-That I still have some emotional communion with humanity
Ask my heart to tell my head what it's feeling but there's a language barrier
Too big to overcome
Pure emotion vs. pure reason
Don't forget this feeling

Url and testosterone levels

I changed the url of my blog from toseeandtowrite.blogspot.com to spokenwrite.blogspot.com, mostly because some of my friends and family were starting to read it and I felt like that might inhibit me. I guess it's kind of bad when you feel more comfortable sharing yourself with complete strangers then the people closest to you or maybe that's a good thing. On another note I was looking at my past couple of posts and realized I sound like a whiny pre-pubescent girl and I'm not entirely comfortable with that. Steak. Football. Beer. Tits. There now I feel better.

Strippers and small town girls

Another blog I wrote on the plane tonight.

I’ve always been drawn to the broken girl. The girl who looks like she has issues, like she’s lived life and it’s punched her in the face a few times. I have no need for bleached blond perfection or live. Laugh. Love cliches. I don’t love the sorority girl, I love he chick with the fucked up family and a slight drinking problem. There is truth in her. My friend’s can never understand my taste in women and to an extent neither can I. I’m more drawn to the girl sitting on the couch by herself at the party then the one dancing on the table with her shirt off. One day I’ll meet a girl who everyone sees as broken or a slut or both. I’ll look at her and see something more. I’ll see how beautiful she is, in her eyes I’ll see how much she hurts. And me, the good looking college guy, will love her like no one ever has. I’ll save her from her bullshit job, her bullshit family, her bullshit life. After I take her away I’ll hold her and let her cry into my chest. I’ll kiss her forehead and wipe away the tears and she’ll love me for it. There is no one more full of shit then me.

Just because I've been on a Rollins kick lately

Dear tool,

Hey bro! How are you? Man, you were such a fucking tool in high school but then came pledge-day and look at you now! Your like a completely different person! You look good. How do you get that collar to stand up so straight? I like your shorts, my girlfriend had a pair that were almost that short. And the way you have a different fluorescent colored polo for everyday of the week, man, that's something. Your closet must look like a bowl of fruit loops. I'm liking that shaggy hair to. It says "Yea man, I really don't give a fuck". And that is what your trying to say isn't it bro? "I don't give a fuck that the economy is tanking or that we're in two wars-pass me a Natty bro I'm getting hammered!" Slam your key into the side of that can and shotgun another one, you deserve it. Lets pre-game a little longer then we can head on down to the bar. If we're lucky we might pass someone who's obviously smaller and weaker then us so we can call him a pussy. Hopefully, when we get to the bar that really insecure girl from our Art history class will be there. You know the one you said would be really hot if she lost a few pounds? Yeah her! You didn't think she heard you but she did and now she has an eating disorder. Sweet man you gave that chick an eating disorder! You can act really chivalrous and buy her some drinks. Maybe a sex on the beach or a fuzzy nipple? Something, that sounds cute and girly, because if it was named after your real intentions you would be buying two shots of "I have to get this girl really incoherently wasted for her to even consider touching my weak, uninteresting disgusting ass." Your not much better then a rapist are you? No bro, your not. So bottoms up my friend. Here's to hoping she doesn't see through your paper thin guise of bullshit. And hey if it doesn't work out you can always get wasted and drive drunk! But if you do please do so in a sparsely populated, heavily wooded area so when you wrap your car around a tree you'll only hurt yourself and nobody I care about. Take care! You fucking douche.

"I'm drunk and I miss you!"
-No, you miss me because your drunk.

There's a problem here

I'm really sorry I drank so much tonight but it's the only way I could listen to you speak for more then five minutes. You've been talking for over an hour now and I've yet to her an intelligent word come out of your mouth. Yes, I think your roommate should be more considerate of your feelings (a lie because I don't really care). No, I don't think she has bigger tits then you (another lie but for more obvious reasons). There was a time I found you attractive but that all changed shortly after you opened your mouth for the first time and a sea of bullshit flooded out. Now, your face, and the way you live your life in general, disgusts me. So it looks like we're at sort of a crossroads here. I could tell you the truth, after which you'll probably cry and call me an asshole for being honest. Or I can sit here for another hour and keep nodding like an idiot after every word you say and then at the end you can tell me how you've never meet someone who listens to you the way I do. Either way works for me.

Cut From Stone

They say it's whats on the inside that counts but they lie and so I'll make my body perfect for you. I'll run, lift, pull. Take what was weak and make it strong, what once walked through crowds unnoticed the envy of men. While everyone else makes their bodies feeble and soft with late nights and strong drink I'll build mine up, discard from my body everything useless and unwanted. Turn myself into something so cut and without flaw, that I'll dwarf your own self-image and no matter how bad I treat you or what I say you'll think to yourself "I can't do any better then him". And after awhile of this, when most would find contentment in themselves I'll spend hours looking at myself in the mirror trying to find new things to hate, always knowing that contentment is the great killer of progress. They will call me vain but I will know that I was the weak man who found a way to conquer his own deficiencys.

Gentlemen's Prayer

Before the last time I saw you I signed the cross, "Lord, please let me do right by this girl." I don't want to use lines to get into your heart, don't wanna drink until we end up entangled and confused in your bed. To take this friendship and reduce it to something empty and cheap. After your leave me I don't want you to feel used but that you used every part of me and that I willingly gave you it all. I wanna heal that pain I still see behind your eyes. When we kiss I'll hold your lips to mine for as long as I can and whisper in your ear 'save me'.

Scar Tissue

I wanna get off the plane and see someone there holding a sign with my name on it. I would take them in my arms and feel like I came back for a reason. I wanna get in my car and drive to a house that's not empty. There was a family there once but their gone now. Disassembled by court papers and dating websites. Don't be a bitch. Move on. These open wounds you see, they fester and grow deeper. Keep you from the real love and trust that surrounds you, kill all hope in it's infancy. Bite your lip and cauterize them.

Get Out

Every instinct of self-preservation in me tells me to go. Pack up and leave them. Don’t leave a note, don’t tell them where your going. Stand back and let them destroy themselves.Save yourself. Live off yourself, for yourself. Happiness is only real when shared, so is pain. A tree falls in the middle of a forest and no one is around to hear it.

Just a pet

My dog died today and I realized I feel more for it then 95 percent of the people in my life.

Crazy Love

I hate to see my own vulnerability. It makes my hands shake, makes me sick to my stomach. I hate the thought of another person having that much power over me so I’ll nip these feelings in the bud. Pray that one day I’ll be able to take the girl that can knock me on my ass over her luke-warm substitute, that I won’t sacrifice real love on the alter of emotional stability.

Roomanitarian

Passage from Henry Rollins' book Roomanitarian I found interesting. Especially in light of me recently getting my ass kicked.

"Theres nothing extraordinary about the person who hit you. There's nothing extraordinary about the people who encircle you. They're just people but they're inspired. They are inspired by you. Your actions have taken them across thresholds into territory they never knew existed. Before you lose consciousness, make sure to feel their hate. It's real and it's for you."

15,000 Feet Above Sea Level

I hover in the air. Scribble words I could never say to you on a folded up airplane napkin. Words I wanted to say so many times, but your face gets me tongue tied so I put them down on coward's lines. They upgraded me to first class when I would have gladly walked 1,000 miles home if it meant one more day with you. I curse the plane that drags me away, curse the obligations that won't let me stay. And I bless the times we're blessed to meet, and I bless the love thats beyond the sheets. I laugh when they tell me it's the mountains I'll miss, when I didn't even notice them beyond your face. And the altitude that they say leaves a man breathless, it's the same feeling I get when theres nothing but us. Tattoo your name across my heart, because thats the only place I'll ever want to keep you.

True strength

I once felt that it was the strong man who could live in relative solitude, in company with his own thoughts and emotions, impervious to the disdains or confirmations of others. I now know this to be error. The truly strong man doesn’t isolate his own heart but rather wears it in plain and unsheltered sight. To be at times torn, misunderstood, abused but to continue to live openly with the unabashed hope that one day it may be embraced.

Standing

I start running down a tree lined street over cracked asphalt and cigarette butts. A truck with an altered exhaust and 4 guys in fluorescent polo’s revs by me. One of the guys calls me a pussy. Alright. Shutting my eyes I keep running, tilting my head back and opening my mouth up to the night. I wonder how we got to this point, my generation. I’m thankful we have no Great War, no Normandy or Iwo Jima to storm. Our bodies are too soft from nights of whoring and drunkenness. Our hearts too weak from lack of discipline and aimless living. The women we left back home would be too busy worrying about who Paris Hilton was banging and getting banged themselves to write us letters to keep our spirits up and the war would be lost before it began. The Real World is not the real world. The American Idol is just that, an idol. A false being we put our hopes and dreams in, for lack of strength to pursue them ourselves. It’s not about religion, guilt, or sin anymore. It’s about not being a scumbag…to stand for something. To fight for something virtuous and tangible instead of drunken shit-talking. To have enough respect for the barley conscious girl we met in the bar to roll over and go to sleep instead trying to bang her. To be worthy. These are my aims, my hopes.

Hard to Tell

That I could tell you how I really feel about you. That I could treat you not as an object for my gratification but as a woman, my peace, with genuine love and gratitude. That I could tell you the truth because this is the truth. To hold you, lose myself in your embrace. To pray for God to stop the morning. That I might stay in you forever.

Keep going

I think of riding and never stopping. I have a bike, one book, four dollars. My soul----To be free. Free of guilt, of expectation. Free of hurting for other people. To build an island onto myself. Freedom in apathy. Even now I feel the pull.What man is strong enough to be wayward? The plane calls me home and I go.

Guiltless

Am I the man who knocked and found no answer? The man who sought and never found? Am I the pious sinner begging for another chance or the hypocrite feigning sincerity? Or am I the forgiven man whose forgotten how to feel guiltless?

Falling Backwards

I inhale deeply from a cigarette. The smoke sears my lungs. I turn my head sideways and exhale. The sand is soft under me. The ocean waves calm my mind. I think about my life. I close my eyes and try to come to some conclusion. My mind is full of failures and insecurities-my heart is full of love and peace. Those days are gone I tell myself. Days of meaningless living and anxiety. Days of unrestrained gratification of egotism and self-serving malice. I seek out a new life for myself. The upright man. The disciplined virtuoso. I take heed not to become too comfortable in my new mind-set-ever mindful of the ways we hastily return to the old self-that jealous lover that can’t stand to see us move on to something bigger, better than it could ever have been.