For the Individual, Ruined by the Ignorant Masses

On a bus ride into town
I wondered out loud “Why am I going to town?”
And as I looked around at the billboards and the stores
I thought “Why do I look around?”
And I kissed the filthy ground
And in the first dry spot I found
And I didn’t have to wonder why I was laying down.

Before long I was too cold
Took a bus back to the station
I found a letter left by a pay phone
With no return contact
And it read like a horn blown by some sad angel
“Funny, it was me… it was me who let you down”
It was the shyest attempt I’d ever seen at conversation

If I didn’t have You as my guide I’d still wander lost in Sinai,
Counting the plates of cars from out-of-state,
How I could jump in their path as they hurry along!
You surround me, you’re pretty but you’re all I can see,
like a thick fog - if there was no way into God,
I would never have laid in this grave of a body for so long.

And Bonner fair always came through the first week of September
But it’s already the 19th
And there’s no sign of it.
Yet I have a hard time
Remembering all the things that I should remember
And a hard time
Forgetting the all things that I am supposed forget.

Oh Christ when You’re ready to come back
I think I’m ready for You to come back
But if You want to stay wherever exactly it is You are,
That’s okay too - it’s really none of my business.

If I didn’t have You as my guide I’d still be wandering lost in Sinai
Or down by the tracks watching trains go by to remind me:
There are places that aren’t here.
I had a well but all the water left
So I’ll ask Your forgiveness with every breath,
If there was no way into God,
I would never have laid in this grave of a body for so long, dear.

I saw a sunset today
In between the rain
The clouds made out like shadows
And the sun streaked out like veins

I looked at it for minutes
Then looked around to see
If anybody was looking
Anyone but me

The people around
Just looked at the ground
And talked just back and forth
I thought that this was nonsense
They’re missing what life’s worth

This view’s what made religion
Something we can’t conceive
Shadows from the outside
There’s something to believe

I looked and looked without a thought
My mind blank as can be
The clouds and sun were painted
Drawn complimentary

We need more perfect writers
The bible’s lost it’s touch
Millenniums are over
We need an epic crutch

Believe, believe, and say it’s true
But the story now is ancient
But it’s natural then and natural now
To create an explanation

There’s so much beauty, here to see
And everywhere you go
But school, science, and reason
Are just the only things you know

Daydream on, and daydream far
It needs not to be true
No one cares what science says
On why the sky is blue
That reason is, and always was
Only up to you

And happy

I awoke to a line to a door that stood grand
But the door had no hallway, it just rose from the sand
The waves crashed so quiet, but powerful still
The wind whistled softly but gave off no chill

I asked the man near me if he knew of this place
He was mumbling with eyes closed, his hands on his face
With no answer in sight I looked down the line
I looked for a clue or maybe a sign
With nothing but sand and majestic tall doors
I figured I’d wait just a little bit more

Hours passed by, but I did not mind the wait
The line grew much shorter towards the man at the gate
The doors let some in and kept others out
But I still didn’t know what this line was about
As my spot drew quite near I heard what was said
The man at the doors assured us all we were dead

“What did you do with the world I created?”
The man at the door would ask us who waited
The answers came out not far from the last
They would answer the man with accomplishments past
“I spoke of your name and prayed to you highly”
“I never lost faith so I never walked blindly”
“I had a family and job with wealth I would spread”
“I gave to the needy and your book’s what I read”
The man would say “Glory!” and welcome him in
“You lived a great life without moral sin”

When I came up to speak, he shot me a look
He glanced at my face then referred to his book
“What have you done that welcomes you here”
“Tell me the life that these other men feared”

With a lump in my throat my voice slightly squeaked
But with my nervousness I still began to speak
“I spoke not of your name and never would pray”
“I lived a poor life and lived day by day”
“I traveled the world and gasped at the beauty”
“I never thought of you in the sunsets I would see”
“I moved to the desert from the ocean you drowned me”
“I drank to depression and never thought to be merry”
“I saw all the cultures and the poles North to South”
“I lived off the land and kept it all for myself”
“My darkest hours were alone for it never got better”
“I figured if anything you gave me the bad weather”
“I was never a leader but I refused to follow”
“Instead I lived lonely and kept my heart hollow”

The man at the door got up to his feet
He pointed the sun and said “follow the heat”
“Your paradise is warm but behind me it’s cold”
“You’ll freeze with the ignorance of doing what your told”
“You lived in my world and never stopped searching”
“You kept your own word even when you were hurting”
“I was not just an object, which is why you didn’t believe”
“You kept me a sight, one you could not conceive”
“That’s the real heaven, go on and delve”
“It’s made here for you and my other close twelve”

So I turned and I walked, with love in my heart
I thanked the strange man who was there from the start
I’ll wander forever, that’s my real life
I need not religion, wealth or a wife

Everyone knows time travel is real. It’s around us at all times. We know a walk down the street can feel longer than a plane ride out of country. Time travel is our notation of time, not the clock that gives us a number. Unless you can feel the earth turning, you can’t throw away your interpretation of time just because things are moving at a different speed. If time was not objective, we wouldn’t have car ride movies and games. These tools, among others, are our time machines. To think that you can make time go by faster contradicts the thought that the pendulum swing is anything more than a pattern.

So tomorrow morning, when the best part of your dream comes to an end in the ringing of an alarm, hit snooze. Feel the speed of 2 more minutes. And when you’re in class, watch the second hand of the clock move. Try telling me that both of those scenarios feel exactly the same. You’ve just done some crazy everyday time travel without a flux capacitor.

The theme of time is very important. You can live fast and die old and live slow to die young. No extreme is ever good. Like everything else in life, there needs to be a balance. Life is long, live like there’s a bunch of tomorrows. Live to make stories to tell. Live as a Jack of all trades and master of something. Live outside and live indoors. Live in love and live in sadness. Live in life, and live in death. You have one shot at this whole “living” thing. Let the hourglass fuck itself and make your own agenda.

Everybody has a vice. Some vices heal a pain while some act as a nervous twitch. Some hide a memory and some make things bearable. Whether it be the stress ball in the office, the cigarettes in the glove box, the bottle in the freezer, or the dysfunctional relationship that you can only use cliches to justify, we are all guilty of objective sanity. Some vices have led to death, and some have led to greatness. On the other hand, they can always prevent either of these things.Regardless of the effect, we can only embrace the vices we have. We must realize that our vices make us human, and being human makes us different. As everyone knows, difference makes progression in the world. My vice follows these lines. Though I smoke, drink, and shake like I’m on the verge of insanity, I simply need constant change.

“If anybody wants to keep creating, they have to be about change” - Miles Davis

The three greatest fears shared by humans are as follows: Heights, Spiders, Public speaking. With all the dangers and uncertainty that lurks in the current world, we fear tall places, miniscule arachnids, and socializing. For me, I fear falling short of the daydreams I have about my future. A dangerous goal, I’m aware, but if disappointment is inevitable, I might as well soften the blow as much as I can. I know money can’t buy happiness, but it does buy piece of mind which can certainly be a down payment at the happiness dealer. I am not one to forget about outside factors in a happy life. I focus my realism before I consider my dreams, and thinking of the options to take in life only shrinks the stationary life I am trapped in. It is only when I begin some sort of incentive that my life begins to look up.

It is said that to be happy, you can’t take anything for granted. It is also said, however, that if you stay in one place, you’ll take everything around you for granted. Now if you add Maslow’s hierarchy of needs into the mix, things begin to get a bit more complicated. The first two steps (Psychological and safety) are meant to work in the background, being taken for granted as long as we can feed ourselves and maintain a job. It isn’t until you reach the abstract that you realize it’s more than just “having friends” that can bring you closer to self-actualization. It’s being able to appreciate your friends and loved ones as much as day one throughout your life. This puts a new twist on a socially accepted theory. We have all self actualized before solidly implanting the middle of our pyramids. This jumping of the theoretical gun may be what has given birth to immense divorces, ten fold suicide rates, and depressing drug addictions. With all of the world a Google Image search away, we can pretend to see the world by unlocking our smartphones. I know this is a lie not worth living, though. I know that a greyscale picture of Oregon’s landscape won’t let me feel the humidity levels on my skin. I know that a picture of auroras in Alaska won’t show me how long a day feels when the sun won’t shine for 6 months at a time. We are skipping the sensory imagery that makes comforting memories and replacing them with a portrait on the wall of the office that’s 12 miles from the house you were born in.

I can not imagine calling a place like this my home. I can’t even say what I want to experience in the world, because it’ll be the inexplicable things that will comfort me in my final days. I can’t imagine a tour of the Alamo will stick in my head as much as a slight wiff of someone’s perfume I could walk by in a nearby gas station. These things surround us. We are ignorant to think that the random thoughts we experience on a daily basis don’t spark from some unnoticed sensory image we catch subconsciously without realizing it. It is this reason that I will not allow myself to commit to something or someone without knowing what else is in the world.

Maybe I’ll never find myself, and maybe I’ll marry the wrong girl one day. Maybe I’ll wait too long to act and miss out on a life changing opportunity. Maybe I’ll die tomorrow, and maybe I’ll live until next century. I don’t know these things, and I don’t know where I’ll wind up. But I can tell you I’ll have a hell of a lot to make me smile about when the going gets rough.

She didn’t want to hear me say it
But I had no other choice
So I cleared the liquid in my lungs
With fake emotion in my voice
We’d  walked around the ocean shore
Been blinded by the stars
We’d kissed beneath the setting sun
And made love in both our cars
But she had something I did not
And it was not a thing to steal
For what she had beneath it all
Was the ability to feel
“I’m sure you’re someone’s everything”
“But that person isn’t here”
As tears poured from the bluest eyes
It was exactly what I feared

I’ve got to pick my mother up”
The excuse poured out so quick
I knew it wasn’t believable
But I guess it did the trick
I strolled outside, content for now
I heard her from behind
“I love you” sang across the street
“I need you to be mine”
I turned around to face the girl
To tell her I don’t feel
But saw her there with hope in hand
Thinking it was real
“I’m sure you’re someone’s everything”
“But that never will be me”
As anger filled her deep, brown eyes
I thought it time to flee

“I’ll order you another one”
“Just please don’t leave just yet”
“I rarely see your pretty face”
“This is the only chance I get”
Her lips so bright just sealed the night
As she simply said “good-bye”
She walked away with no dismay
Like she left me there to die
But I followed close, to try my ropes
At the final fleeting stand
“I love you more than jewelry stores
Hold couples hand in hand”
She turned around and looked at me
My hopes began to sink
She sighed a bit and scratched her hair
Finding words she didn’t think
“I’m sure you’re someone’s everything”
“But it just isn’t right”
I saw pity in her bright, green eyes
Then she drove off in the night

What’ll it be today?
The man at the bar asked
I said “I need a shot of whiskey”
“And a place to flick my ash”
So he poured a glass of medicine
And reached down for a tray
He knew my tab was good for it
For he saw me every day

He walked down the line, made up of drunks
Asking them about life
The car in the shop, plumbing that leaks
Trouble at home with the wife
Every man talks, as if he’s a friend
Complaining about paradise
The problems they share, the ones they can’t bear
Do not require this vice

But every time he, comes questioning me
I wave him away like a dog
He tries to get in, find out who I am
But I fill all my mirrors with fog
Like he needs my tip, I need this sip
Talking would make the world worse
When the business crowd’s out, I order my stout
The barman asks to call me a hearse
An innocent joke, I chuckle through smoke
Enough to fly beneath
I don’t want his laughs, I just need a glass
That’s what will settle my grief

When I finally go home, greeted by my wife Alone
And our children Empty and Lie
I regret my delay, say goodnight to the day
And hang up my favorite rope tie

Hashtag: beautiful
A modern day princess
Makes everyone look pitiful
She is nobody’s mistress
She falls for figments
And lets nobody know
Her cheeks reveal the pigments
Like she climbed out of the snow

Innocent, you’d think
But evil to the touch
But watch her as she’ll blink
And see her as she’ll blush
You’ll fall to your knees
Like a shot in the back
And beg her “darling please”
As she brings you back the stack

She knows you want to use her
Even if you don’t
She won’t let you fool her
Whether genuine of hoax

So watch her dangerous prudence
She’ll never take the chance
She’ll think of you as heartless
Even with her black-heart glance

I tried building up my karma
So I’d get a chance to love
I gave up all my vices
But couldn’t shake who I was
I deleted all the numbers
Of the girls who weren’t you
I boarded up my home
From anybody new
But you smile as a friend
With no chance to evolve
And I told you how  feel
God just isn’t ready to absolve

And every night I pray that I can have a dream of you
I’d live my life a fantasy, just don’t tell me it’s not true
And every night I’d pray for something that’s not real
But it’s the closest to a love that I’ll ever feel

Your eyes reflect the forest
Like a postcard from perfection
But I know the lakes that live there
Would never show me my reflection
I have a heart of gold
Hidden underneath the dust
But it only works for you
And at this rate it’ll rust

And every night I pray that I can have a dream of you
I’d live my life a fantasy, just don’t tell me it’s not true
And every night I’d pray for something that’s not real
But it’s the closest to a love that I’ll ever feel

But one day I’ll let go
One day I’ll be so brave
Though you still might read “I love you”
It’ll just be on my grave

Yes, I was looking. It did not just show up unwanted one day. It was brought in response to one of the many ads I had placed numerous locations. It showed up on a Tuesday right around noon. The man carrying it wore a suspicious salesman-like smile and a cigarette that looked as though it was smoking itself due to the lack of attention it got from his lungs. It was a look, not a stress reliever. He was the type of man who would stand out on a New York City sidewalk on a Monday morning. He began speaking to me as though we were already mid-conversation.

“This whatchya been lookin’ for?” He asked, dramatically chewing the filter on his cigarette as though it was a piece of gum.

I looked a bit more intently before swan diving into the hole he was digging for me. It was a beautiful wheel. The wood looked freshly stained, even though it wore a thirty year patina. The numbers were raised with an undeniable 1920’s font that read perfectly over every color. The silver handle shined as though nobody had  ever laid a hand on it. It was the best I had seen in all my years, and I knew it would cost me.

As I nodded at his question, we began the haggle. After 4 minutes and 29 seconds, the end result was a price just above an eighth of what I would have payed. Ignorantly, I counted him his cash with a smile of accomplishment. Sometimes I suppose it’s natural to not question something too good. I gave myself credit as an expert haggler when I should have had suspicion. I had no reason to check my pockets with it, though. It was beautiful and I knew it was real. It was not the wheel itself, but her attitude that would haunt me later.

The next day, I had the usuals over to test it out. They all gawked at the master craftsmanship and scorned me for buying something so expensive. I dismissed these comments, but I was never the type to share my economic activities with anybody. I wouldn’t even let my wife know if I had one. As the scorning calmed down, we set up for the first spin.

“I’m putting five bucks on green for the occasion!” One of them said, fully expecting to lose the money.

As I spun the handle, I let him drop the ball himself. While it swirled around like a horizontal ferris wheel, we watched, waiting to see the first number it would pay out to. As the wheel stopped, we looked around at each other in awe. As I cleared my voice, I said the only thing I could think to say.

“Green Zero, one hundred and seventy- five dollar payout.”

We all laughed and joked about how lucky he had gotten, reserving it in our memories as a story to tell in the future. For the rest of the day, gambling went very smoothly. Everybody’s blacks and reds payed out at a normal house-to-gambler ratio.

The next day, a drunk came in with the change he got from pretending to be homeless. As he threw his change down on the table, he stumbled and caused it to fly everywhere. With a drunken slur, he muttered out the words “All on zero!”

When the ball stopped, I stared and pondered at the location of the ball…green zero. I gave no announcement, but rather payed the man his seventy bucks in chips. With the tallest posture I had ever seen on an intoxicated man, he threw it right back on the table again, muttering “green zero” with a condescending look.

As the roulette wheel payed the drunk man again, he laughed hysterically, thinking that luck was on his side today. Now for a reason I never could wrap my head around, he threw all of his earnings on twenty two. Maybe it was the thought that green couldn’t strike again, or maybe even an accident. Whatever the case, the ball landed on 15.

After 3 days of anybody willing to place a bet on green robbing me blind, I stopped running that roulette wheel. I looked at my numbers and saw I was losing more than I could afford. I could have sold it for the difference, but I had too much anger to be sensible. I drove to the desert and left it in the baking sun.I couldn’t bear the risk of seeing it in somebody else’s casino.

She was a beautiful wheel, but she was too fair. Anybody willing to take the risk would strike lucky. I just couldn’t claim ownership to something that would treat me as if I were just another guy willing to take a risk. She did it in front of my face without thinking anything wrong of it. There are some things that you can’t share with the town, and she was one of them.

The street was filled with neon. The buildings were so bright you would swear that the sun would never show its face again. There was dancing side to side and stumbling front to back. Either way they moved, their faces gleamed with smiles richer than the proud proprietors who claimed ownership of the nightlife. The credit unions could retire with the liquid liquidation that flowed through the people who made up the river that occupied the avenue.

As the black sheep beauty queen exited the watering hole alone, she was joined quickly by more loneliness at the portrait of companionship. Though she was clearly the fairest of the land, she got no attention from the rapid current of belonging. Her gorgeous hazel eyes watched the happy lucky guys as they held the doors for their dime-a-dozen whores. Her hair blew so gently as she concluded that ignorance avenue was no place to call home.

On the side of the road that mailboxes counted by twos, a man finished his glass of happiness. With a battery freshly charged, he tipped the liquid therapist and opened the front door to no man’s land. His brown eyes looked, but couldn’t find, a place he could rest his arm in his bedroom that night. The options were endless for girls who would leave in the morning, but his mind was done with the temporary companions. As his gel hair disheveled, his happiness leveled. He realized his home was just a box in a building.

Like lasers in a museum, four eyes became two as the black sheep and bottle crossed paths in their visionary crosshairs. Immediately then, they knew that the only place happier than a parkway of belligerence was a dimly lit coffeeshop. He crossed the potent river to where the lot numbers were odds and laid down his jacket for the lonely beauty queen.

They sat and they talked until the sun came up with a hangover, talking and laughing and enjoying the stories. When the morning arrived, they said their good-byes, dispersing into their homes alone as they arrived. No numbers exchanged, no love interchanged, they left to never speak or laugh together again.

Love’s just a human, a trait that’s possessed. But tonight of all nights it forgot to remember that the star crossed lovers had met. So the story ends sad, and the feelings lived on. But that’s just the scheme that brings everyone back to the street that they met. So they lived sadly ever after, Not pursuing but not forgetting. But every now and again, the man finds the fountain that presidents drown and throws his metal valuables in with a wish that he can one day meet her again.