compilation.

Here is some free writing I did a little while back. Hence, no capitals. Cassidi is probably going to have a heart attack over there.. miss grammar. But it felt like something that needed to capitals! =) Plus, you may enjoy the Latin at the end enough to make up for it.

there is something beautiful encompassing the sky today. the way the beads of sweat drip upon your neck and back. i keep waiting for this inspiration, but inspiration only comes ambiguously. is there any way to feel this way forever. because i don't want it to fade away. but like summer days, and winter clouds, we journey to the ends of the earth before we are put out. evaporated and condensed. who knows what happens then? in every minute of every hour there's a new idea to flow, like a river, like a melody. we used to hum, and sing and dance. but there's no room for that now. only cursive, only pages, typed on a type writer centuries ago. i'm losing this, i'm losing things. i was always so forgetful. but each syllable of every word fastens my head on my shoulders again. i find it amazing how the scars still remain more prominent than the pain. and i find it amazing that there's nothing left of souls until you take off a blindfold. these rainbows and these colors dancing all around don't make a sound, for i cannot hear your speech. is there really something bigger in this whole wide world for me? or are there seconds and moments i am taking for granted, that so suddenly can be taken away. drifting away. like the feathers of a bird lost on its dying day. maybe i'm just searching. maybe i need to let go. maybe i need to accept the fact that there will always be things i do not know. maybe i'm just dreaming. maybe i'm awake. maybe i'm dead to you. maybe i'm alive. maybe i'm free. but maybe there will always be a cage with a dead bolt at the end.


nihilo sanctum estne.


Next thing is just some crazy ramblings about metaphysical stuff. It's so ambiguous no one will probably know what I am talking about. But I am talking regarding what happens when we evolve beyond our bodies. I believe it will happen. Maybe not my generation, but my kid's generation. I also wonder what is beyond this life. There is so much more than this, I know it. I just can't believe in blind faith. I just can't.

Am I just one big cliche?

Are we all?


I wonder a lot of things.
But mostly, my brain won't stop repeating a question over and over again.

What is this?


It's like it's right outside my reach. It's like I can feel it, and I know it's there... I just can't see it. Can't hold it close like I long to. Can't hold you close like I long to.

I believe I will evolve the day that I die, but until then I would not comprehend even if your cosmic presence told me all the secrets.
But these secrets define me. It is not fair to remain in ignorance as long as there is air in my lungs. Figuratively, I am beyond this. Metaphorically, I am beyond this. Intangibly, I am beyond this. But yet I am still trapped in the confines of this skin. These bones. These organs.

The home of a spirit. The home of a mind. I long to break free into the light from whence I came.


Here's something I wrote on my mom's birthday last year (2007).

happy birthday...

...to the person who has meant the most to me in this world.


My mom would have been 51 today if she was still alive. so young to have life taken away from her.
This is my second Christmas without her.. and the second birthday of her's she has missed.


sometimes i even entertain the idea that she really never died, and that life is like some huge mystery, and the big twist at the end was that she was still alive, but just in hiding.


it's only when you lose something so close to you, that you believe such irrationalities. the most ridiculous thing could be true, so long as it means that they really aren't gone.


i still don't know how you're really gone....
i would like to believe you never left,
but in the corners of my heart are the only places that you inhabit.


and as always, there are still so many more things i could have done. so many more days we should have spent.


These were the last things I wrote creatively really before the E.A. Poe blog below. I always thought it was really strange how they were exactly six months apart, and both written on the 26th of the month. My birthday is also the 26th day of August. Creepy.

i have spent the past half hour laying in the grass of my grandma's backyard. a tree above me, a beautiful tree and i suddenly realize how much that tree must have seen. there are ghosts in those branches that reach so high above me. they encircle and entwine the leaves like the binding of a book. like the weaving of a blanket. like the intricacy of the tendons under my skin.

strangely, i am wearing a shirt that reminds me of the 70's. style, cut, color and pattern. simple jeans and flip flops complete the outfit. laying under that tree, i heard someone run by quickly, laughing. when i looked up, the fence and yard were deserted. the grass un-tread upon. the leaves decaying evermore into the ground from which we all are from.

that tree. there is something enchanting about the memories that tree has seen. they come to life before my very eyes. like a figure from an oil painting leaping from the canvas. my mother. same jeans, flip flops and red-flowered shirt. same brown hair. laying beneath the same tree. feeling the same grass upon her fingers.

and in that moment i became another memory for that old tree. a memory spinning and whirling on the wind that rustles the leaves and loosens the bark.

and there i joined my mother in those branches. in that tree. that wise sanctuary of nature. and i became a ghost. pale and wide eyed haunting the humid june.

--6/26/06

the smoke lingered. i think that's why i enjoyed smoking cloves so much. it wasn't like normal cigarettes where you blew out the smoke and in an instant it disappeared. no. each inhale was a ghost to haunt your lungs and each exhale a spirit to hang by your side.

when you're this lonely, smoke becomes your only companion. smoke slowly escaping our your car window. hood on, 85 mph, exit signs. the needle is creeping closer to empty and my phone always says no new messages. i don't know or care which direction this highway is going or what number it is. my eye lids grow heavy, but sleep will never be within my grasp it seems. the glow the orange lights cast on the pavememnt creates an atmosphere all its own. an atmosphere telling me i have no place to go.

i long for more enjoyable nights. as i lay my head down, i whisper to my pillow for them to please come soon. i hate the emptiness inside my sheets. i long for just about anyone to inhabit them. i can't really care their names anymore, because the cold wind always carries them away. with each passing day i feel farther away from the beauty i wish to possess.

all i wanted was a voice to speak with on these long nights. someone to share my day with. my dreams. everything simple, and everything complicated. i would be theirs, and they would be mine. and we would understand perfectly. and when the lights turned off, and the blankets went on, i'd put my hand in theirs and softly say, "goodnight."

but here in reality, the dreams and laughter and conversation is personified by the car and the dotted white line and the exit signs.

the only thing i say goodnight to is the highway. the only place i put my hand is upon the steering wheel. i am the road's, and the road... is mine.

--12/26/06