Category: Text

A Thought about Death

There are many things I think of with death.

primarily sadness, burden and anger

sometimes happiness, relief and thankfulness

usually not.

 

right before I die will I think “do I regret my life? Did I live life to the fullest?”

as my heart slows, “did I do everything I want to do with the people I wanted to do it with?”

 

i often fear I’ll die alone.

Alone.

sounds empty, scary

alone in a crumpled ball on the side of the road

alone in the waves of a current I can’t escape

alone in a hospital bed strapped to beeping machines and fluorescent screens

death is a lonely process anyways,

you do it by yourself and nobody else knows what to do

hopelessly watching as your vision goes darker,

your limbs numb,

your hearing fades

 

I hope I’m not a burden

if I cannot hear, see,

or have a feeding and breathing tube…

just finish me

 

fucking

kill

me

off.

pull

that

plug.

 

Most of all though,

i hope I am missed

i hope I impacted people

i hope I come up in dinner conversations,

“hey remember when Ethan…”

“hey remember when Dad…”

“hey remember when Grampy…”

 

when i I think about it,

its not literally death that scares me.

Or the pain or suffering that comes

from the Grim Reaper.

 

but all the components that come after

and how it affects my loved ones.

 

curiosity killed the cat

but what happens after?

 

now that’s something to think about.

 

It’s hard to think that

everything just ends.

lights out.

 

all over.

 

but alternatives seem

sometimes unlikely

even though they are much more tranquil, happy, lavish

 

I would like to believe them

but sometimes I just can’t.

 

it’s just hard for someone who

is constantly being to finally go

extinct.

 

and then buried 10 feet under

in an overpriced box

with maggots as neighbors

and then left there to rot.

 

i want to believe there is something more.

 

all this build up

all these experiences in life

all this wisdom

all these loving connections

just to be shut off and thrown away.

 

There has to be something more,

right?

Burdens of Social Media

My phone used to vibrate

***New Message***

and my heart would beat

harder, faster,

with more feeling.

 

Now my phone is silent.

 

Now I see

videos of you

but my heart doesn’t beat faster.

 

Instead my stomach feels heavy.

….I feel sick.

 

 

Being force-fed

the reality

that you are happier now.

 

Without me.

Changing Places, Changing Faces, Changing Times

You think

after only a few months,

things wouldn’t change.

 

You are wrong.

 

Things do change.

 

 

how people act and dress

how much a person drinks

what a person may eat

who they are and aren’t flirting with

 

relationships between friends

friends relationships between other friends.

preferences of who to talk to,

of who to fuck.

 

is it cool now

or was it cool then

 

how much?

how often?

how come?

 

oh…

 

•••

uninteresting conversations with people who

barely noticed you being gone.

 

casual bullshit that gets you through the day.

 

“Just keep plugging away.”

“Just keep swimming hard.”

“Just keep having fun.”

Pause.

“It’ll all work out.”

 

they speak to you

 

fuck

 

“How are you?”

Only half listening, eyes looking around as you respond

 

and only to be cut off

some current gossip filling the space.

God I’m fucking 21.  Why do I still deal with this shit?

Who cares who is with who.

Keep to yourself

The only reason you talk about others is because you

yourself

are indeed fucked.

YOU have something to hide.

•••

To be honest,

i don’t think other things change.

 

I think it is just me.

I am the one who changed.

 

I don’t care for certain things,

for certain people.

 

My temper is easily triggered,

My patience is short.

 

I am unhappy.  At least I think I am.

 

And the worst part is

I don’t know why.

 

I have a great life.

Good set up.

Great family.

Friends who have my back.

Beautiful school.

I eat every meal.

I sleep well every night.

•••

I think I am just tired.

Missing the warm weather

and the feeling of the salt water in my hair.

 

The music blasts as I write this

this train of thought

this stream of consciousness

 

“I need you…I want you…”

HA but who?

I couldn’t tell you.

 

I am not alone.

Many feel this way.

There is something empty.

 

“Yeah there is this one girl but like I don’t know…”

 

“Yeah she is cute..is that her boyfriend? he is a big boy…”

 

“Oops, I didn’t know he was actually a SHE…”

 

Others look upon.

 

Those of us who can’t find

who can’t settle with one partner

just have holes in our hearts.

 

we have been changed

and we are waiting for someone,

and eventually they will come,

to change us again.

 

They will come with open arms

and stitch the whole closed

then kiss it as it heals

 

and it won’t scar.

it won’t make a mark.

it won’t change you.

 

Well you will be changed.

I will be changed.

But she will make me better.

 

We will make each other better.

 

 

Riding the Bus to Campus

I spend at least 40 minutes a day on the bus.

 

I look out and see beautiful girls.

Some wear dresses with black tights, blonde hair hanging over their shoulders.

Others have their hair up and sprint past the bus, leggings ranging in patterns and colors.

The denim jackets of some hang loosely over their pale colored sweatshirts.

Tattoos creep out of sleeves and show through their transparent shirts.’

 

 

Yet, none of them are as beautiful as you.

 

I hear them speak on their phones and with each other in tongues familiar and foreign.

They smile at me sometimes when they get on the bus.

I usually smile back.

I can feel the fixed look of some looking at me,

and I sometimes find myself catching their gaze, like a deer in headlights.

Makes me giggle to myself as I turn my music up louder.

 

But there is only one that I can listen to forever,

only one who has a stare that makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.

 

As my sweating increases

and my headache continues,

I fight the hangover with a sip of water.

 

I taste something bitter in my mouth.

I close my eyes.

 

As my music plays

I can sometimes see you smiling to it.

And even sometimes singing to it too.

 

My eyes open to a cuddling couple.

His hand gently on her thigh

and her head on his shoulder.

He kisses her head.

Its’s brief and she continues to sleep

and he just sits there smiling.

 

We connect eyes and he sees my jealousy.

He easily sees it.

 

The whole bus could see it if they paid attention.

I remember doing the same.

Not on buses but in dorm rooms, kitchens, front of fires.

 

The smell of your hair and your taste

I have forgotten.

 

The girl’s eyes open as the bus stops hard at a red light

and she whispers something into his ear.

He kisses her.

They are in love.

 

I get off the bus.

2016

This is a photo from my 22nd Birthday.

img_7605

This was an absolutely insane thing. It turns out, that for weeks, my girlfriend had been coordinating with my closest friends from school and from home  to surprise me in with what would be the best party I’ve ever been to. Looking a level higher, seeing all these people in the same room was a very strange thing. A few people aside, these are really all the people who have the majority share in making me who I am. I am so cosmically lucky to have Miranda in my life.

My life is so perfect, everything is going in the right direction. I find myself trying to explain away the sheer LUCK and good fortune that has been assigned to me. I am feeling good man.

I spent a lot of time in 2016 thinking about what quality actually is, I wonder what 2017’s word is going to be.

More photos from the evening:

_mg_7577 img_7250 img_7345 img_7610 img_7605 img_7638 img_7689 img_7709 img_7730 img_7759 img_7770 img_7366 img_7791

 

Man on Street

His wrinkles are the first

thing I notice.

          Very Deep.

He is sad, stressed,

his arms crossed,

muscles tight as he shivers.

A torn t-shirt, white with brown,

          a long coat drapes over his shorts,

buttons missing.

He sips water between

         puffing on his cigarette.

A paradox?

The ash burns his fingertips, and

he throws his cigarette.

He sucks his finger,

pulls out

         the pack of cigarettes.

He begins to sit, but it is

awkward,

almost slow motion,

like an overweight elderly person falling.

His eyes never stop looking at the pack.

He sits, looking as though he is reading the pack.

He throws the pack of cigarettes,

almost gently however

like it were made of glass.

His wrinkles tighten

around his nose and eyes.

He continues to stare at the pack.

He lunges forward and grabs it again.

Opens it and pulls another cigarette out.

He lights it

and breathes in.

He shakes his head as he exhales.

Summer Collection

Drive

As I drive home from work one day

the radio is playing.

As I drive, I start to think:

this song is really good,

“Centuries are what it meant to me A cemetery where I marry the sea Stranger things could never change my mind I’ve got to take it on the otherside”

wait this song is her favorite one to hear with me

because i sang to her

oh her smile

and the glow in her eye while i sang

she looked speechless

it was perfect,

it was such a surprise to both of us!

and then she and i passed out with my roommate there

he said he thought she and i would make a good couple

and i remember hearing her talk to herself in her sleep

and how she just mumbled math theories under her breath

god she is smart

i remember when her and i first met at the parking lot party

and she told me she was a math person

i remember seeing her and she was approaching me

i remember thinking whats this girl doing

is she really walking to me?

is she really talking to me?

we had passed by a few times

in the library

and exchanged smiles

but i barely knew her name

i hadn’t even stalked her Facebook yet

“Emily”

i asked her to repeat yourself

“Emily.”

My Eyes are Closed

but I still smell your perfume.

I open them,

goosebumps rising

my hair standing up on the back of my neck.

A breeze blows as I sit on the bench.

The smell gets stronger and I look around

frantically.

Where is she?

Did she come here and not tell me?

Is this a pleasant surprise?

I keep looking

and no you.

I don’t see the pretty face

and the I don’t hear the cute giggle.

As I keep praying I’ll run into you

some weird thought that maybe

you have travelled all the way to Maine

from Spain

to see me?

Seems impossible

totally illogical

yet for some reason I believe.

Then I see her

the imposter.

As I sink lower into my seat

my anxious smile turns into

a disappointed frown.

Only ten more days.

Ten more until I smell your perfume

Ten more until I can see you.

•••

“Just Friends”

We are friends who…

tell stories

work out

go on adventures

watch movies

backseat drive

listen to music

tell each other jokes

call each other “whack”, “goose”, “nut” and other funny names

try new things for us both

teach each other new things

push each other to new limits

pregame together chasing rum with vodka

dance stupidly to songs in crowded parties

struggle through morning hangovers

go swimming

go shopping

go to concerts

hang with other friends

like to be busy

make fools out of ourselves in public

make fun of each other endlessly

watch each others sporting events

poke and tickle

snapchat each other just to keep the streak alive

hit the beach on warm days

cuddle on rainy days

hug

text each other almost daily

fight over the dinner bill

fight over the dessert after dinner

travel through traffic and road rage for just hours of visiting time

sing duets (or at least try to)

trust each other with secrets

kiss

meet each others families

share clothes (more you wearing my clothes)

sit in a comfortable silence

scream loud and talk over each other

have quality alone time

study each other’s eyes

can spend days with each other

introduce each other to our friends as “Just Friends”

I hope one day I can call you my girlfriend.

•••

Midnight Thoughts

i want to wake up next to you and kiss you good morning every morning.  i want to eat breakfast with you on an island that only you and me are on.  i want to spend the day on the beach and on the ocean and i want to see deeply into your eyes.  i want to make love to you under stars and a bright full moon.  i want to then lay there on the beach and cuddle and make s’mores and eat them with ice cream.  i then want to fall asleep with you tightly holding onto me and then wake up again seeing your beautiful face as i hear the ocean waves crash.

Quiero despertar a tu lado y darte un beso buenos días cada mañana.  quiero desayunar contigo en una isla que sólo tú y yo.  Quiero pasar el día en la playa y el mar y quiero ver profundamente en sus ojos.  Quiero hacer el amor a usted bajo estrellas y una luna llena brillante.  Quiero entonces ponen allí en la playa y abrazar y hacer s ‘ Mores y comer con helado.  entonces quiero caer dormido con usted sosteniendo firmemente me y luego despertar otra vez viendo su hermoso rostro como oigo el desplome de las ondas de océano.

•••

It’s raining out

Not quite a loud rain

But loud enough where I am relaxed

And I’m in this red bed.

The perfect color

The color of romance

Our favorite color

And I’m in this big bed.

A bed way too big for just me

And I toss and turn

Thinking of where you possibly could be

And I’m in this cold bed.

A bed that needs you to keep me warm

A bed that will be comfy as the rain hits my window

And I’m lonely in this bed.

And I close my eyes and just keep seeing your smile

And your eyes that glow

And I can’t stop thinking of you in this bed.

And I calm as I think of your head resting on my chest

Rising as I breathe in and lowering as I breathe out.

Your hand on my shoulder

And my hands holding tightly to you

And I’m asleep in this bed.

Imagining you were here

With me.

•••

To Be In Love Again (Revisited and Revised)

I listen to the same song

on repeat.

Only since it brings smiles to my face.

I see you when I close my eyes.

Your smile

the way you dance.

“Spin me!” you yell

and I spin you.

I think about the liquor we shared

the drunken steps and adventures

me holding you and you holding me

kisses snuck in between steps.

I think about those nights

when we just laid around

cuddled up talking for hours.

Music playing in the backroom

the room dimly lit.

I think about your face

as I sang to you

how you bit your lip when I looked at you

as you sat there

listening to me

as I try to master each note.

I think about how I got goosebumps when we kissed

and how warm you are in my arms.

Then the song stops.

And I take a deep breath.

And I play it again.

To Be In Love Again

I listen to the same song

on repeat.

 

Only since it brings smiles to my face.

 

I see you when I close my eyes.

Your smile

the way you dance.

“Spin me!” you yell

and I spin you.

 

I think about the liquor we shared

the drunken steps and adventures

me holding you and you holding me

kisses snuck in between steps.

 

I think about those nights

when we just laid around

cuddled up talking for hours.

Music playing in the backroom

the room dimly lit.

 

I think about your face

as I sang to you

how you bit your lip when I looked at you

as you sat there

listening to me

as I try to master each note.

 

I think about how I got goosebumps when we kissed

and how warm you are in my arms.

 

 

Then the song stops.

And I take a deep breath.

And I play it again.

Snowy Sunday Night

Eyes water as the sun sets.

 

Ears burst when the fireworks pop.

 

Hands shake when snow touches the tongue.

 

Feet sore from standing.

 

Stomach turns.

 

Your feet stop and so do mine.

 

Our cold hands release.

You don’t smile or frown,

but your blue eyes stare

And my eyes water, and your ears burst as the fireworks explode above illuminating the night

and both our hands shake as the snow lays down on the brown grass

and your feet are sore but my stomach turns

 

Then you walk away.