The Ones Who Never Yawn

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" -Jack Kerouac

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

What were we hoping for?

The Pioneers:


If it can be broke then it can be fixed, if it can be fused then it can be split
hope with desperation. failure with success. good with bad. dichotomy is our lives. and there are two sides to everything.
It's all under control
it's how life is designed, and there is nothing we can do about it but to realize that it might be this way for a reason.
If it can be lost then it can be won, if it can be touched then it can be turned
everything can be had, yet nothing attained. everything changed, yet it will always be the same.
All you need is time
time will heal all. life is short, and yet we have all the time in the world.

We promised the world we'd tame it, what were we hoping for?
tasks such as these require a loss of expectations.

A sense of purpose and a sense of skill, a sense of function but a disregard
meaning is everything. significance is desire. but how can we?
We will not be the first, we won't
if we think we're alone in this two faced existence we're kidding ourselves. we aren't the first to forge this life.
You said you were going to conquer new frontiers,
Go stick your bloody head in the jaws of the beast
certain death lies in this pathway. evolution won't come without a price.

We promised the world, we'd tame it, what were we hoping for?

Breath in, breath out
it's possible. none of it's possible.

So here we are reinventing the wheel
nothing is new under the sun, son
I'm shaking hands with a hurricane
pleasantries with a disaster. certainly an inappropriate interaction
It's a colour that I can't describe,
It's a language I can't understand
this life is beyond what i know, what i understand. all modes of analysis are lost on this.
Ambition, tearing out the heart of you
Carving lines into you
Dripping down the sides of you
ambition is a bitch. it will beat you into submission and then grant you the world.
We will not be the last.
the world will be ours, and because of that, it will be everyones.

-Bloc Party

Friday, December 26, 2008

And it is good.

I just saw Synecdoche, New York. It's Charlie Kaufman's new movie. It was... It's the day after Christmas, and that's a relief more than I thought it would be. But Steph is playing and writing next to me which is more pleasant than I thought. It's warming up in here finally, my dashboard says its 48 degrees here in LA. Not that that's unbearably cold, but it's chilly, there's no denying. 

"The more we know someone, the more we disappoint them, and they us." And I guess if you don't want to disappoint anyone, you kind of have to lower your expectations of others so as to never be disappointed by them either. That doesn't leave much room for doing anything. Cause I guess once your expectations are low enough, your life begins to mirror what you expect from it. It is awful funny being in a city so big, and feeling alone. Alone because everyone is still at home for Christmas. Well, nearly everyone. It feels like everyone. I can't believe I've never been in love. And how ironic now that I'm not even sure it exists. Romantic love, not love of mankind or anything. That I can jump on board with for sure. 

Have you ever had the experience where you feel as if you are a part of the music your are playing or listening to. As if it moves through you and you move as a part of it. All of you moving in the direction of truth, beauty, good things. I guess it's been happening more and more, and I think it's beginning to save me. Why there is hope in music I couldn't even begin to explain. But, it is community. And it is good. And it is rectifying, and redeeming. It's a struggle, therefore makes you grow. Makes you see what it is that really matters. 

Everything can just get so contrived and convoluted sometimes that you loose yourself in something that was never meant to be so complex. 

Friday, December 19, 2008

quid pro quo

Life is such a funny thing. I am hopeful about life, and believe that you should be hopeful in life. But I definitely have a certain desperation in my attitude toward life. A hopeful desperation if you will. An idea that good is capable of being achieved, that love will eventually win out. But that none of this will be done with ease, with out a fight, a messy fight. Because there is a dichotomy at work. An un-actualized paradise we look toward with outstretched arm. And a realized brokenness in which we move in and out of as we wake, and as we lay down at night. It is the give and take, the quid pro quo, of creation. So though I am hopeful, I must fight to be hopeful, in the honest reality that all is not right; and all will not be right if not for the unification of people in the name of something good. So I find myself as two when thinking about what I will be doing in the future; where I will be, what I will be doing. One side, hopeful, seeing the ideal as a viable option. The other side seeing certain failure, and having the ability to accept that and move on. I don’t know if this a depressing, or fatalistic way of looking at the world, or just an honest one, but it’s just the way I see it for now. I’m grateful life is able to teach us and help us grow and evolve though. 

Thursday, December 18, 2008

what? i was outside. it was cold. so i wrote

The cold
the rain.
They match my pain
my depression 
hitting with each rain drop
in attempts to prop
my heart open 
to truth and despair
the brotherhood of the fates
staring me down like a motherfucker
standing still
the chills not quite penetrating me
the burning timber of my soul
eats at the tobacco in my hands
cold cold cold
its winter
and I am seasonal

Thursday, November 20, 2008


Blog via explodingdog photos:

This is about where it started. I'd like to think at some point, everyone has a life crisis and begins wondering where they are going and what the hell they are doing. And after traveling the country and talking to people in dozens of different states, it looks as if I'm not the only one. Though I don't see this picture ceasing to represent my life anytime soon, I take comfort knowing that it doesn't just represent my life. I have companions in this debacle: life. Knowing that I am not alone in not knowing makes me feel stronger, more capable of victory one day. I think that is important. 

I have spent most of my life trying not to fail. Even if that meant failing on purpose, to ensure the fact that I wouldn't actually fail. If I didn't try and I failed, then I would know it was because I didn't try, thus making it impossible for me to actually fail. Or succeed. Fear of failure kept me from success my whole life. And now that I have been provided a wealth of experience and knowledge through my recent travel, I know that failure is nothing to be afraid of. That failure is the only road to success; without it there is no progress, no evolution, no achievement. This I have learned. Now all that scares me is success, and what I would do if and when I find it. But better that then the converse.

Success, however, is an allusive thing. Something that even when confident of it, seems like it might never be reached. That it might, at all times, lie just outside our ability to achieve. Something too far away, or something that will take too long to get to. Even though this feels like the case; that this thing, this success, is all the way over there...I know it is there, and even which general direction it is in. And, somehow, that is enough to satiate all that there is within me that thinks it must know where I am going in order to move forward. It's almost some sort of faith I have acquired. A faith that things will be okay, that if I continue to try things, to put myself out there, that opportunities will continue to present themselves. A faith, in that I haven't the slightest clue what my life will look like in three months; if I'll have a job or not, if I'll be in California, and if so, where in California will I be. Orange
 County? LA? But I'm not worried. Success (whatever that means) will come. It has to come. It must.

just jump:

After returning from my travels, I find myself in a position to choose. On the edge looking down, seeing what life could be. The life of possibility; of potential. From this point, you can also look backward, seeing how life has been, and how it could continue to be. The life of comfort; of dependability. Now, I expend a lot of energy trying to avoid situations that require me to make decisions. Because I've learned that if anything scares me, it's responsibility and commitment. Just terrifies me. So do I jump? Having tasted what could be. Do I jump? If it's true that the core of man's soul is in new experiences, then why would we not bend our lives to be one full of experience. And maybe it's that we can do that anywhere we are. Maybe it's not a decision such as jumping or not, but of whether we jump or stay put, how do we live? 

I realize that it is a luxury to have the problem of wondering what I should do with my life. The fact that not being sure of what I want to commit my life to is my greatest debacle in life, is a phenomenon that is only explainable by seeing how untouched my life is by real hardship, or pain thus far. I say this not to cheapen my life as it is, but to explain how fortunate I think I am to be in a position that allows me such ability to self explore. And there are times when I think it doesn't just allow me to explore myself, but demands it. So I am free, and I enjoy being so. It is a luxury I must take advantage of, or I will resent myself forever. It's funny that my current freedom of responsibility and commitment is actually a call to take responsibility and commit to something in and of itself. My freedom is challenging me to find what it is my life can be most effectively spent. Sometimes luxury is the greatest of impetus. 


And remember: 

if you get tired, dancing helps.

Monday, November 10, 2008


Well the trip is coming to an end. I'm in San Francisco right now writing from the most comfortable couch I've ever sat on. Scott and I are watching the Hills. It's amazing what you resort to when you haven't had TV in over a month. It is literally the best waste of time show I've ever seen or imagined. I can't stop watching it, and yet with every episode, I hate myself a little more.

Our trip is officially done on Wednesday. Just like that, six weeks of traveling the country, is over. I ran out of money about a week ago; needless to say, I've gone on a special diet. Luckily I have some cigarettes left. And I'm willing to go into debt to get a cup of coffee where I can. Just hoping everywhere I go, that someone will want to feed me. I feel like I have a better chance of finding an untouched freshly cooked meal sitting on the streets of San Francisco than I do of having the guys we're staying with here feed us. I'll be fine, and hungry, until we get back home and I get paid. Probably won't last very long, so I'm trying to see where I can make a few bucks when I get back. Maybe in LA.

It will be good to be back in Southern Cali though. I'll probably spend some time in Orange County, then hike up to LA and spend the rest of the time before Thanksgiving with good friends and my family. Leaving having to decide about what to do with my life until after Thanksgiving. Prolonging. That's what we'll do. Prolong.

Friday, October 31, 2008


Halloween '08

It is October 31st here in the Green RV. I have nothing orange to wear. So to offset my physical celebration of this glorious day, I'm saying thank to Satan for being born today 2000 years ago ever hour on the hour. 

Okay, that's not true, but seriously, today is Satan's birthday. I'm just saying, it tells me a lot about you if tonight you are doing any of the selective things people who love Satan do on this day:

I. Wearing either orange or black. And yes, suburban mothers, this even includes your cutie jack-o-lantern earrings, and your festive candy corn broaches. 

II. Eating candy. Look out especially for Smarties, Tootsie Pops, and any mini chocolate bar that upon eying, your mom would instantly ask for, i.e. mini Snickers, mini Almond Joy, mini 100 Grand , etc. saying "Oh, you don't like those right?"

III. Trick or Treating (this is a big one). In making up a pros and cons list for Trick or Treating, I discovered there are thousands of cons, and only one pro. 
Cons including: the myriads of razor blades thousands of people across the country place inside their Halloween candy. Poison should be addressed as well; a very likely scenario. Not to mention, that Trick or Treating is practically a front-door- delivered-all-you-can-offend buffet for sexual offenders everywhere. And if pillow cases aren't an innuendo, I don't know what is. 

Pro: walking is good exercise for our nation of increasingly obese children. (however, this is often offset by the amount of trash consumed this night)

III. clause A) It should be noted that any and all Fall Festivals, Harvest Parties, and/or Autumn Celebrations, taking place at churches all across the country, are a perfectly suitable substitute for the otherwise pagan ritual of Trick or Treating. 

IV. Halloween Parties. Now this is two fold, because it not only includes your usual debaucherous party activities, but the fact that costumes are often required creates a whole new segue for evil to participate. I can think of few more scenarios pleasing to the Prince of the World than a roomful of young men and women pretending to be someone else in hopes that they can forget how pathetic they themselves are. Girls, using the event to dress like a whore without the consequences of actually being one, including often a form of captivity, or financial crisis. I think this began when the female species realized that putting "dirty" in front of anything while choosing a costume is a winner. Men, taking the chance to come up with the most clever, politically sensitive, ironic, or socially relevant costume possible in order to woo said whores also attending the party. Ugh!

I hope my words have been convicting and sufficiently condescending, as my only hopes for you are that you being such a sinner, and celebrating such a horrid holiday that stands for everything liberal and socialist about our country. 

On Another Note:
I voted today, from a freaking RV on the road from Nebraska to Colorado. But seriously, you should vote too.