Street Light Poetry

I seriously just thought "I should probably stop drinking, and where are my pants?"

Who'da thunk. And glancing around it appears Ann still has hers, so HI ANN! I feel like I'm talking into the future since it'll probably be another year or so before I stop back here again.

A few notes to future me (and obviously anyone else reading this):
I was thinking about something today while waiting to make a left turn; A few days ago I told a girl rather foolishly that the happiest I'd ever been was when the two of us were together. I meant it when written, but it really doesn't hold true. I was ridiculously happy then, but I am even happier now. It has nothing to do with her, or any of the girls since her. In fact it has everything to do with a mental independence that is still rather newfounded. I struggled for mental strength for years, but I was fighting myself in all the wrong ways, mainly by fighting myself. I am so much more comfortable lately with who I am and what I am, good and bad. By knowing myself and loving myself unconditionally I seem to have freed up a lot of emotional baggage that was previously used looking for approval from others in sometimes unhealthy ways. (I realize this does not flow well as prose, excuse my stream of thought here, I don't feel like cleaning it up.) I am not at a point yet where I could comfortably say that I don't need or seek validation from certain peers, but I realized today for the first time that I honestly think that I would like me if I met myself on the street or at a party, and that is an amazing feeling.
Regardless of all of the above, I still have a lot to figure out and a long way to go towards being the person I would like to be. Life is a journey though, and not a destination (wow, I can't believe I am getting that sappy.) It will still be a while before I fully let go of some things, but I understand that I have made certain decisions and we don't always get to change our minds after the fact.
I really feel like a chapter of my life is ending, and it was the best chapter yet. What has me excited though is knowing that the next chapter will be better by far. College is ending, I am moving on from my two year hang-up, and a whole slew of new characters are being introduced. Exciting times. As I write the final few sentences of this chapter I can't help but eagerly anticipate all that is to come.

I was going to ask if it's possible to miss yourself, but I know the answer, and 7 years isn't always necessary. When did myspace blogs become the new livejournal?

Too many plane trips to remember where any of the shots like this are from. Adobe lightroom/Apple Aperture does wonders.

back to the photo thing

I have written this exact post too many times in too many places, but.
My daily kicks are Nikes now. I mainly eat fast food that I can't afford, and sit on my ass anywhere from 8-20 hours a day. The summer will most likely be spent in St. Louis working for an NFL team because it is the safe thing to do, instead of working as a crew member on an indy film. Almost all the piercings are gone, and with my flesh colored plugs in my ears look more natural than without. Sometimes during my weekly (bi-weekly?) flights I see scenes of what I know to be incredible beauty and remember a time when I would have been left in awe at such a sight. The misanthropy is no longer playful, the interactions are no longer respectful, the affection is fleeting if at all. For ahwhile after I stopped caring I pretended to continue, I don't bother any more. Everything now is about being easy, about convenience. Nothing is sacred, nothing is worthwhile, nothing is worthy of pursuit. In light of that, money has become my sole goal. In summary I have become everything I didn't want to be in every area of my life. My vanity is drowning anything that might be left of substance in this profane skull.

wow, haven't been around here for awhile.

Seven months, getting better by the day, words don't exist to adequately articulate the thoughts and feelings that swell when I see her smile and reach for my hand.

And there was so much more than there is now, although retro-direct gearings are indeed a throwback to the vibrachromatic life that memory seems to endorse. But of course it is realized that every today is tomorrow's yesterday, but that doesn't change the feeling of failing to live up to things in only the worst ways. How, then, does one go about living 'nostalgically' about the present? To see what beauty lies in this moment instead of passing it glumly until it is gone and ready to be looked back on fondly?

I remember days when there were people to have deep conversations with about whatever thoughts you could send dancing from your tongue, instead of short exchanges of trite pleasantries. I remember mornings and smells that stole breath from my lungs and caused a yearning so strong to live that the previous night always seemed worth it. I remember the availability of pull-offs outside of town to park at and look at the stars, a feature surprisingly absent in this indigineous land.

So yes, there is this yearning, but it is a more telling desire, one for past days, not new adventures. Sadness manifest. All there is for now is a soft hum of machine, the reflection of the rain on my wall and the dread of another 4am shift starting too soon.


"terrified of telephones and shopping carts and knives, drowning in this pool of other lives... Rely a bit too heavily on alchohol and irony, get clobbered on by courtesy; In love with love and lousy poetry..."

There is nothing like surviving to see a new day to grant an amazing rush of ambition, and a rising sun offers all the perks of a close friend, sharing with you that wonderful feeling that only they know how to provide. But oh how quickly resolve melts back into apathy and golden hues turn to midday doldrums. Leaving you with nothing but time to wait for the streetlight hours and the sense of awe and wonder than accompanies them.

Parked car, sharing neuroses and smiles teach me that I was wrong in all the right ways, and it is reassuring to know that I have no idea.

Mirrors now show strangers an unbiased look shifted around the y-axis, this would be greatly appreciated if they weren't my eyes in that strangers skull.

seriously though, the absurdity of eyeballs. what's with that?

If John Baumstark were here he would laugh and walk on down to that room and tell them to take his name off their list, if John Baumstark were here, still living in the comfort and confines of mommy and daddy's basement. If he were he would be brash and wouldn't bother to stand for such an obvious misuse of funds. Where did I go?

I haven't slept since I got up Saturday, it is Tuesday at 8:59 AM and the soonest I may go to bed is Wednesday night. Jessica, hot showers and dexedrine are the closest proximity to sanity anyone could want during a week like this.