Wednesday, February 27, 2013

What do I believe?

I don't believe in heaven and hell. I believe in energy. The energy of emotions. I believe that if there is a force as powerful as love then there must be other things beyond our understanding. I believe if you put something out enough into the universe (whether youre aware of it or not, such as being negative or positive) it will come back to you in some way. I only want to put out love despite my anxiety and other complications. Love is my religion. It always has been.

I am random

Monday, February 25, 2013

The past is a funny thing;
Its heartbeat is still
but I can find life there if I look.
I mean that I can sigh
as if a moment was happening again.
I can smile at a photograph
because it means something different now.
I can feel what I felt
but never like in that piece of time.
Before,
when I saw you happy without me
I would feel a chaos of emotions,
but now,
in the present,
I'm happy to see you making a future.
I'm happy to see
differently.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

I can't pretend I'm not affected by your words,
That I don't long to be seen by you,
That I don't want your eyes to pay me attention.
My own eyes fall into the curves of your handwriting
and rest there for moments at a time.
I sigh because the timing doesn't seem right.
I know it's me you want
and maybe you would change that
if you could.
You remind me of me when I'm in love,
Strangely enough I love you a little bit because of this.
I think to myself maybe one day I will really,
uncross my arms love you,
and it will be because I have finally and completely
fallen in love with myself.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

When I was in 4th grade I had really short hair ("the penis hair cut") and this kid asked me if I was a boy or a girl. I had football player shoulders and rocked some purple shorteralls over my spice girls shirt. I had like 1 friend and played handball by myself at recess. In 5th grade I had a unibrow and hadn't "grown into" my nose. Boys ran away when I said I liked them. In 6th grade I always wore a hat because I was really insecure about showing my face. In 7th grade I went on my first date (Charlie's Angels movie ohh yeah) and was so nervous I had to bring my friend and I laughed the entire movie cuz I couldn't keep it together. He tried to hold my hand but I balled it up into a sweaty fist which he tried to awkwardly "paper my rock" with aka hold my fist rather than hand. Up until only a couple years ago or so I was embarrassingly shy around new people and would frustrate some because I couldn't keep eye contact. It's been a long road to feeling pretty and secure, but nothing is more beautiful to me than the people who have loved me along the way...sooo thanks, have a beautiful day! end speech.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

2/6

Growing up with a big brother has made me who I am. Thanks for introducing me to your sweet super nintendo and N64 so I could be a videogame nerd later on. Thanks for letting me play with you and letting my Barbies play with your legos so they could look like giant prostitutes next to them. Thanks for driving me to high school when I was a freshman and you were a senior so I didn't look like a loser waiting for the bus. Thanks for being protective and loving and showing me silly videos and making me laugh. Thanks for putting up with my horrible communication skills and telling me you love me even when I've been a dick. Thank you for always asking how I'm doing. Thank you for staying the strong and kicking that brain tumor's ass, all the while making sure everyone ELSE was okay. You are a loyal, selfless,caring, bright, silly, wonderful example of a 28 year old man. Happy birthday big brother! I love you.

Monday, February 4, 2013

I have some questions poking at me.
Sweet thoughts can quickly be deflated by them.
Poke poke.
Well what are you going to do?
I've got some answers in my pockets,
but I don't want to let them out yet.
Solutions are safe when they're hidden.
They can't solve in the dark, but they're still there.
and I know to relieve this poking
I just have to reach inside,
(are we still talking about pockets?)
and reveal those answers.
I have to feel them for myself
and make them real.
Here they are.
Here I am, with them.
I've got nothing to hide.


The first time we met was at a mutual friend's party. Actually, it was to celebrate both of your birthdays that happened to be in the same month. I mostly met your friends and not you. There were hot dogs and red cups floating everywhere. There was loud music and weed smoke and hula hoops, people spinning fire, and smores. Blaine was in Kansas and we broke up shortly before this. Well fuck that, I was going to enjoy a party. And I did. I went home, alone, but content with the thought of new friends. The next time I met you, I saw you standing outside of Ryan's house on the 4th of July and you were crying. Me and a group of friends (you know which ones) were packed into a car and ready to get drunk and watch things blow up just as the founding fathers dreamed of. We were ready to get into party mode, but I saw tears and thought "uh-oh." You had a sweet face but I guess I imagined you to be like one of those drunk bitches who ends up getting upset and then her angry words turn into salty streams down her face and the whole vibe goes down the drain. I couldn't remember your name, it was just "crying girl." So we stayed for about 5 minutes and then packed ourselves into a car again and I took a drug I had never taken and the night became blurred with brilliant colors and strange conversations and memories.

After that I went on facebook and you sent me a chat message saying hi. I was hesitant at first; I didn't know what you were about. As loving and affectionate as I can be, it takes awhile for me to open up, to feel comfortable to reach out and touch. You explained what an awful night that was and then we just started talking about random things. I love when people say hi to me and seem genuinely interested in starting a conversation, but the awkward side of me sort of delays this or avoids this in some way. The harsher side of me just sees this as a one time thing and even though people say they wanna hang out, the effort of making this happen often falls short. But I said "hi" back, because why not? No harm in small chat. I started to see you more though, and although, I still felt somewhat distant from you because we hadn't gotten to know each other very well, I felt a connection.

 My first impressions of you and the image of "the crying girl" began to dissolve. I liked you because you were upfront and honest, you weren't afraid to express yourself even if it meant showing vulnerability. We liked the same music, we liked to drink. We liked to be loud and dance. Now these are all the makings of a fun friendship but over time I learned how thoughtful you could be. I was sad for awhile and I think I clouded my thoughts with parties and dumb stories, and yeah, I know I threw up on your couch and I've been a mess for you to take care of sometimes, but through this haze I saw that you weren't just someone to drink with, you were someone to talk to. I know I've climbed into my cave and shut you out before, but you were always one of the few people who understood me for doing this. You know I don't like it when you don't want to talk to anyone either, but I know we'll always meet up again. I began to tell you more about myself, and slowly let myself spill out. I was like this as a child, I like this now, I want this, I hate this, oh let's do this, have you heard this? would you like to?  I told you more because I began to know you more and this meant, to love you more. I wanted to make you laugh. I mean I always want to make people laugh, but I genuinely enjoy it more if I love someone. It's almost been five years now and I just wanted to thank you. I know you'll read this (that's another reason I love you), I feel like you really hear me. You aren't just waiting to speak again, you're listening. You know me (not the easiest thing to do) and you love me too. Here's to you dear friend, and many years to come.