Today i sat in the sun taking in what two hours i had left of the warmth.
I inhaled about as much nicotine as you can in a ten min break from reality.
Sometime i go out back and sit on the crates left there from some weekly delivery's.
I too like to pretend I'm someplace else.
It was an intense conversation,
I was told i could be a photographer.
He told me it could be a side job and i could make a little extra cash, and we laughed about how i felt like some photographic slut if it became a side job. I really wouldn't mind. He laughed at me and said he would even help me out...
He told me it's a side job of his mostly in the summer when he could travel to the west coast somewhere in L.A.
I said "You know, i know someone like you, you're a dreamer, you believe there are all possible ways of doing things and that anything can happen as long as you are determined enough to follow through, you don't really like to smile or show any sort of emotion because you know how you feel and that's all that really matters, and you never let drama take over your sanity because you're just you. The littlest things make you happy like sitting and listening to world as you watch the car's go by. You prefer a handmade card over store bought which goes to show you're creative side. You like to do things on a whim, and keep allot of things to yourself, and there is always that one person you go to at the end of the day to let them know that. When it comes to emotion deep down inside you really care, and love hurts but you always seem to get through it."

He told me i was really good........

[this morning when i woke and you weren't there , you teased me with your smile and kind eyes, you held my hands above my head while kissing every part of who i am, swinging me over your lap, you pulled my hair and told me how beautiful i was, i remember you walked me to my doorstep and underneath the street lamps, you kissed me good morning and told me to not fall in love with you, i didn't]

It's when i go to write that you're gone. This blank mind space that tends to creep up every once in a while because it knows that I'm too busy focusing on it to understand. It's like those moments in your life when you spend too much time questioning what is and what isn't just to comprehend everyday life. I figured out that it's not about that, it just is.
I like to spend my days in dreams when i awake in some morning/afternoon fog that requires caffeine for my boost. The sun made me smile that day I said and the color of the tree's and the grass , it brings me back to those days we don't like to talk about because now we're older, and changed...
it's o.k.
it really is.

I woke up this morning and jumped in the shower.
I fell asleep standing up
[like those early 6am showers that you had to force yourself to get into just to go to school],
I lay in bed all afternoon drinking my coffee and reading my books and watching the very first snowfall, and all i could do was smile, smile because yesterday i was standing in weather that was 30 degrees warmer and trees that were brighter and a sun you had to squint at, i smiled because i read my first book since a year ago in three days, it was so real and it was so beautiful, it reminded me of those evenings watching the sunrise from the top of capitol hill through all the tall buildings downtown. I sat in prostitution park drinking wine and washing it down with day old caffeine i had bought that afternoon before i walked to see the troll under the bridge, somewhere between there and Ballard i bought My Jane's addiction 80's looking tee-shirt, and sported it in Fremont while listening to the sounds of harmonicas and acoustic guitars in parks. I could smell the pudget sound from the bridges of I-5 as i replay in my mind the girl who was standing here just a week ago before she plunged to her death because of some cliche drug overdose due to some rock n' roll fads that were later printed in the stranger. I returned to this party and a yard full of bikes that were just piled up on top of each other like some beautiful painting or work of art. I went into this house that was semi- white and rusted with potential, no one should ever touch it.
It's got character and tells a story i said.
At sunset i ended up on the top of a hill in Magnolia watching the city that i had lived in for about a year, do you remember me saying it's like you have to whisper when you look at it. I never told you but it was so beautiful it made me cry.
oh, and you're inspirational.

For seven years i think i was just nervous because we called each other on our bullshit and we needed each other for that, and when times got rough we just took it out on each other.
It takes time, but i want to get to know her better.
I want her to get to know me better.
Because I'm pretty great.

There's no right way to be or right way to feel,
it just is.
(we're just kids over the parkway tonight i bet we laugh)

[And so this morning when i woke up i got in the shower, i laid in bed all day reading my books, and watching the snowfall from the sky]

my heart had collapsed while time stood still, and suddenly it became hard for me to breathe and see. It's like i had spent my whole life looking for the right things, the right moment to make me happy. It was better when we were kids, and dreaming wasn't labeled such a chore. I don't believe you stop dreaming when you become a certain age, it grows old with you, it's who you are, like it's stuck with you. I will admit though that certain troubles do put a delay on it. I've become angry with myself due to this. So I have demanded a new me, [technically not really a new me, just the old me restored] I had lost the ability to think positively about my life, about my writing, my singing and laughing and dancing, everything that makes dreaming possible, and defines it's potential. Change is tough, but a good thing, and i'm willing to accept. So i'm gonna start asking questions. "you get the car I'll get the night off You'll get the chance to take the world apart and figure out how it works Don't let me know what you find out I need a car You need a guide Who needs a map..." http://www.projectplaylist.com/playlist/additem/245277

I feel like dancing with my cheese face on.

when am i going to get over this writers block!!!!!!?
i need to go......somewhere?

i already discovered i like being free, when i met you.

today i woke to the sound of buzzing in my ears as i reached over to hit my daily

snooze button, wishing that only if i could stay in bed for a few more hours.

I roll over and hope when i open the shades, blinding me with the suns brightness and everything from the past four months is melting into some sewage drain near some homeless mans box.

It's never not what i want to do, or else i wouldn't do so. I don't have the answer for everything but i have a question for somethings. Life is full of strife and wonder, LIFE is full of question and mystery, destination and adventure, and in some cases fairy tales.

some little girl grew up in a white house with a white picket fence and a two door garage where they stored her BMW for when she went off to Harvard. She had a cat and a dog and a mother and father who never fought and they always told her they loved her.

[across the street]

some little girl lived in a beat up brown house with a yellow lawn that looks as if it hasn't been touched in years. Her old beaten up brown bike was thrown up against the house, the same bike she's been riding for the past four years is what gets her back and forth to her grocery store job that's gonna pay for her tuition for community collage this fall. Her parents are in the process of divorce and she was forced to live with her mother, and her brother's a junkie.



......it will never stop me from being me, i owe no explanation for my mishaps.

I'M not satisfied with me or parts of my life, and right now it's not something someone can solve. I can ask questions and smile about it, but it's not o.k., I'M not o.k.[thanks for asking]

i wake up everyday and hope for the sun to shine, i get dressed in the same clothes i wore the day before, i go to work and drink my coffee all day, and find time to eat, and then somewhere in between i make calls to my best friend [whom lives 3,000 miles away just to see how he's doing, and ask as many questions as possible because somewhere in between i know he'll understand] and let him know i miss him horribly[but somehow i manage] an put myself in between the lines.
"you'll say did they love you or what
I'll say they love what I do
the only one who really loves me is you
and you'll say girl did you kick some butt
and I'll say I don't really remember
but my fingers are sore
and my voice is too

you'll say it's really good to see you
you'll say I missed you horribly
you'll say let me carry that
give that to me
and you will take the heavy stuff
and you will drive the car
and I'll look out the window making jokes
about the way things are"





We can all come up with some solution and how easy it is to do so for everyone accept ourselves. Instead i just wake up to an empty head, and love what i do.

It's not that i don't want to it's the FACT i can't right now.

So while i sit back and listen to everyone else tell me a story about their life[by which i don't mind] sometimes it's good to ask how other people are doing.

you'd be surprised.



so, if you find yourself reading this, today the sun finally came up, and everything was melting into some drain pipe as if spring had sprung.

i smile

i cried

.........

[physically]-I'M @ work

[mentally]-dancing around in the warm sun.

[sigh]

soon my friend.......soon.