i've been waiting on you for so long.

are we all trying as hard as we can? or are we just sitting and waiting on something better to come around? how long will we wait? will we ever stop waiting? it's like constant anticipation -- looking to the horizon for the next best thing or that perfect someone to walk through the door. i think we can do better. i think we can stop waiting and start acting -- we can start doing something about it. don't you think? sine when did we become so complacent? since always, but it doesn't have to last.

Bibliophile

I'm normally not one to put up a political cartoon, but this one just got me for some reason.

it makes us what we are.

It isn't the things that happen to us in our lives that cause us to suffer, it's how we relate to the things that happen to us that causes us to suffer."
-- Pema Chödrön

Chapter 1

He left her. I tried to stop him, but it was too late. No, I don’t know where he went. I mean, I guess i could try and find him, he might have just went to one of his usual places, but this is different. I’ve never seen him so upset, what did you say?

Jesus, what?! Why? What did he do to you? Why did he just, god, I don’t know anymore. I don’t even want to be here. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!!

I’m tired. This has taken so much out of me. God, I can’t even go to sleep and its all I want to do. I just can’t keep going on like this. He left, your angry as hell and I’m caught in the middle with no where to turn, I have no options left. I don’t even know who knows about this. We can’t let it get out. No way. There is no way you can tell her. It will be all over then. Jesus, that would be the end, the complete end of all of this. I’d be forced to leave and I have no idea what he would do or where she would go. No, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, just leave me alone, I just need space. Space. Space to just see what I can come up with. I’m just out of possibilities.

Where are you going? I didn’t mean it like that…stay if you want. I just don’t know what to do or say anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t mean, no, I mean, stop, you can leave me – your all I have right now, your all that is keeping me sane, alive. No, please stop! God, fuck! You can’t! I have…what…no, I didn’t mean to hurt you too. God, its like no matter what I say I hurt someone, I can’t sleep, I haven’t eaten in what seems like days, I’m tired and mad and damn I it I just want things to go back to the way they were.

I don’t want to get anyone in trouble any more. I’m done lying to you and everyone else. I’m done. I can’t do it any more, I just can’t take it. It’s killing me. It is draining me. I have nothing left to offer, I am finished. No, its not that easy. I just cant go back there and tell her…no, I can’t, it’s too soon don’t you think? Its too soon. I just want to sit back and let things mellow out for awhile. I want it to blow over – we need space right not. Time to think. I know it sounds cheap but honestly, what more can I do? What can I say that I already haven’t said? What can I do that I haven’t already done? I think we just have to face that facts man, that this is done, over. Bad things do happen to good people. It’s complete shit, I know, but damn, why does it have to be so hard? Why do I have to be the one that had to say it, why did it have to be so difficult – why did it have to hurt so bad, so completely bad.

I hate this. I hate the situation and I hate her. I can’t stand her and let this go on. It’s so cheap, so degrading. I just want it to end. I just want it to end. Please, don’t leave me.

Hope in the pages.

Perhaps it is the lingering romanticism attached to urban emptiness that invigorates a crowd; the full city and the empty city are ultimately both unnatural states. But it is the empty city that continues to lurk in our culture, a place for the imagination, and more beside, to run wild.

common no more

Missing: One Wednesday in Late July

It is always strange to think about missing a complete day in one’s life. Nothing happens at all, it just drifts past like lazy summer afternoon. I realized that as I was 38,000 feet above the Pacific, that my Wednesday is all of a sudden a Thursday, and that the Tuesday I left L.A. on is now just a mere memory of a day that once was. All of the things that happened that day will no longer exist as things to do, but things once done. If we think about all of the things that happen throughout ones day, the things we eat, consume, waking up, brushing our teeth, saying hello to our significant other, walking or driving to work, those possibilities of getting ahead on the job, making through the day a little fast, a little happier, a little better, all of those chance encounters that could happen at lunch, on smoke breaks outside, or during the commute home, are all suddenly all thrown out the window. All of the new things one might learn are all just left floating about in the air somewhere, waiting for someone else to grad a hold of them and use them. All of the ideas that are needing found are lost forevermore and we are left without one of the days in our life where the one great thing that we are always waiting for just might happen. The lottery will be won, but not by you; the girl you’ve been asking out for a month will accept, but with another suitor; the big contract at work will be won, and the celebrating will include all of your department but you will be missing and get no credit. We might have cried that day, we might have rejoiced, found God, achieved enlightenment or figured out that our lives are a mere coincidence after all. If you think about it, and add up one day for each person on that 747, it adds up to over a years worth of days. Not just Wednesdays, but a complete year of time that goes unaccounted for. It is in those days that people will think about those they left at home, those they are returning to from far away. The loved, the hated, the once forgotten and the chosen forgotten will fly through our minds as we fly through the mushy clouds over Fiji, and the flight attendant brings around breakfast as we think about where we will be in about 2 hours when we land on a different continent. Sitting, staring into some type of space that leaves us unfulfilled and aching, I recline the seat, put on my headphones, and try not to think about the day I just gave up, but the day that I will gain when I return. Each life will be returned its lost day in the end, but it is the feeling of losing something so precious that will continually haunt our conscious.

faith and the state of unicorns.

It’s hard to prove that a unicorn doesn’t exist, especially hard to prove that God doesn’t exist, because God just by definition is outside of space and time.

does this not sum up so many of the thoughts that i've been having the past few months? it does indeed, and i can't help but think that if there were other people in the world that would just think about this statement, they would understand so many of the isssues that are fucking things up. take care my friends with your faith. space and time are not areas that are easily explored.