See ya.

Ending.

There is no need to use this anymore.

It was never intended to be a conversation.

Happily misunderstood.

There is a ferry that will take me and she to go take pictures.

There is a fire.

Fight.

Goodbye.

I remember

I'm not crazy when I think it. When I wish it.
I'm encompassed.
Merry Christmas.
I don't want to wait another routine.
I don't want to grow anymore without...
Maybe I am crazy.
But I'd do anything. And I read back and its everything.
She.
Fireworks.
Me.
The sparks left over.
Happy New Year.

A mountain, a Lobster....and a kind hearted textbook.

We went to sleep at 7
All loaded I unloaded frustrations
Its not easy to apologize but maybe it wasn't all wrong

I bought these tickets over a month ago never thinking I'd be able
In a drunken stupor we say 'fuck it lets go'
But we stay up till 7
The enthusiasm much like the anger is a drunken passion

you say 'you boys have a show to get to'

And its on. Were blind and feeling with foggy minds to get to a better place.
We get a car somehow. We have no map. We wait an hour at the border. Its looking bleak.
Time is passing.

We arrive...

We witness and partake in a dream we've both had for 4 years.

We hold up our hero's with their sweat raining out of the call of the many
Murder upside down with one hand on the wheel

He plays the Jurassic Park theme

We meet them. They give us a copy of phantom. We say 'oh no we already own it please' they say 'no dude take it and thank you for making the trip'

Hours and hours and hours of driving. One hour of dreams. Then we spend the hours and hours back giddily retelling the same great story. We were our own authors.

It was so new. So familiar. So inspiring. So easily living the lives we've been sitting on.

Friends were friends. Dreams came true.

COME ON NOW

Stop sign question: what do you want?
Defenseless until I see a better vantage point.
Yuck. I do have to apologize for all the whining.
I'm excited to see my family.
Boy I hope they don't ask me any questions.

Strat

Band.

Headache Fuel

My underwear is in my blazer pocket. Left side.
I have red wine on my white dress shirt. I don't know where my undershirt went.
The black pants have left over duct tape on the crotch from a previous event.
My black shoes are coated in other peoples food.
There is a very good chance I have vomit on my face. Its my vomit.

Kicked out by a roommate I don't know. He made me tea and I ran and puked.

Now on the street, in the wild again its time to make a big decision.
What song am I going to listen to on my mp3 player?

I'm on six hours sleep from the past forty eight. Tops.
I looked like a fool. I acted like a fool. I felt like a fool. Chances are..

I go with 'Drama in the emergency room' by 'I hate myself'
One of my all time favorite songs. But I don't like listening to the whole thing. Its just that the first half is so fucking incredible:

'i can survive, but i don't know if i want to.
turn off the machines. i've sprung a thousand leaks.
i can feel everything. listen.'

Soon that song is over but its not the right choice. I know the right choice. I knew it before the night was over. Seriously.
See I've done this before.

People are looking at me. Some people are clearly unimpressed. I wonder if any of them care.
My uncle served coffee at 4:30am the previous evening. We watched a shitty patriotic submarine movie. We listened to music I don't really like. He showed me old pictures he has. That's when it hit me. It was about 2 or 3 am when this happened. Monday night...

I saw all the pictures of me. And I could see how sad I was. Much younger then I thought.
I lived with a single mom for a bit and one of her girls....just had that thing. A sad soul.
Takes one to know one. But I did not realize its persistence.

Some people think I look good right now. I want to spit my sickness at them.

The song.

This is important. Pay attention please.


'Thaw' By 'Converge' and make sure its the Jane Doe Version.

This is the fucking song.

I've heard the guitar player for the band describe that whole album as 'inaccessible.'
Very true. Especially of 'Thaw.'
The first three quarters of that song are so fucking annoying. It just builds and breaks a million times. It repeats itself like a frustrating conversation. But then....
The thing about that entire album is that it sounds like you've stumbled onto something important. The production of all the instruments and vocals are so gritty and balanced and married that it literally becomes something frightening. It is rightfully regarded as a masterpiece album and I agree.

I've seen Jane's iconic image tattooed on peoples arms on the bus, as a patch on a purse, and my personal favorite: stenciled on the wall of a convenience store in Red Deer Alberta. To me it signified a pulse. That someone existed in that shit hole.

The song erupts and breaks everything in your life. It fits the feeling of watching yourself morph out of your own control. '
Today I thaw.' Does that mean that something frozen emerges? That the real you is coming to life? That would be so horrible. I don't want that to be me. But Being stuck.... I see that coming from not facing things properly. I have Jane's face in my head.

I travel via public transit that I can get away with not paying for. I'm on the seabus. Crossing the ocean to my home. It feels a little safer with that moat in the way of my actions. There's cargo ships in the water in front of us being pushed by tugboats. An old woman is asking the general public something which Converge muddles out. Her answer comes from a construction worker seated in front of me. I'm instantly understanding. He has such kind eyes, such a fantastic goatee. His facial muscles don't give any hint of over exertion. In his red plad jacket he is what he is and he seems strong and dependable. A man.

I smell. Look. And feel. Like an asshole.
So chances are...

My battery dies just as the seabus docks. Just in time to hear the old woman wish everyone a merry christmas. They all wish it back.
I don't say anything. I feel like I'm not included.

As I'm starting the final stretch of my way home someone is playing 'Joy to the world' on a trumpet. A few bum notes put in just for me. My national anthem right now. I'd never have heard it if the batteries were still alive.

My back hurts as I'm about ten blocks up. But I know its from my floor. The only bed to go home to. I've had that before too. My backs gotten tougher though.

The roommate was young. Judging.
When you have pictures like mine to look back on you see that differently. He's just a kid.
The lines are so blurry now. Villain's used to exist. People were trust worthy.
Now it's all moments. It's all nights. Promises get broken.
Anything. A pin drop. And I go back to missing her.
How could you think or write or sing or speak about anything else?
You just do.
Things change.
Love used to be safe.
Things change.
I'm older after that walk. And the album is almost over as I write.

The ending.
Its everything. Its what makes you misty.
Jane Doe.
I hate fade outs. I can't stand them actually. I had a friend who once talked about them and said that he felt they were cheap and it was like the band wasn't talented enough to write a good ending.
Jane Doe fades out.
And its unfucking touchable.
Its a statement. That this is going to keep going forever. And its going to get more intense and more consuming.

But batteries die. And trumpets hit the bum notes.

Chug

Well first off lets get this part out of the way: I drank a bottle of wine.
Tonight at work a front put aside its suit of armor and surprised me.
Fed me beyond expectations more food then I've had all week.
I shared this fact.
It seemed exaggerated. Turns out it was not.
Walking home with a bottle of wine to myself. Drinking under a bridge I'm familiar with.
Thinking of the river in my view. A metaphor provided.
Are the ripples aware of the other ripples?
When you bus tables you feel feeble. You feel wrong.
Like you've failed and are skimming the surface of your life.
This is fact.
Its not pleasant.
What is however quite pleasant is this. This writing.
I'd rather not explain or apologize and just give a smile through this sentence.
There is nothing wrong with my pursuit and the pace I've acquired.
Then again....I've had that bottle.
If I could sum up this week, I'd say that I've seen a lot of tradition and pattern.
I've tried to inch past my own, and perhaps I've judged others.
The latter is frowned upon but perhaps all it requires is an adjustment.
Regardless I don't feel regressive. I don't fear a relapse.
I just don't want to be a dickhead...