everyone bounding around. dancing. feeling the vibrations of the earth in their bodies. one with the universe. dance. dance. can't stop dancing. at one with the universe. feel the emotion. feel the love. the hate. all the way from toes to the fingertips. let us all rub together and feel the dance.

the thing about vampires is they are hilarious. they don't get they are cosmic jokes. no soul. no reason. oooh you drink blood? wow. i drink water and can go onto hallowed grounds. immortality. you turned the two lamest dudes in high school and your whiny girlfriend, enjoy that for the rest of eternity. i like sun light because i can see girl in bikini's at the beach and play a pick up game of basketball. shriveled unused organs and pastey white skin is for dying grandpas and chemo patients. stake yourself.

everyone is stupid. every form of communication is stupid. pop music is the excellent source of mind numbing drivel to cap any creativity, introspection, and happiness. living life. fuck your life. your veil of happiness is crumbling. more. we demand more. it is a simple fact. when push comes to shove. there is no one there to bring the shovel. there is no one there to catch you during a trust fall. we're all selfish. impetuous. looking out for numero uno. even in a solid partnership. you know your fiance would leave you in the dust if there was a gun involved. it takes an average of seven times meeting someone to know if they are worth dying for. the underlying systematic triggering of selfishness. tense up fully. relax. take it all in or shut it out?

mechanical inclination was never my thing. my forte if you will. i needed money bad. for my wife. for my two babies. for my house. my priorities were set and with that meant some bending of my personal rules. my code of ethics. my morals. i knew how to use tools and owned them. it was a friend of a friend of a friend. getting vouched for at a poker game goes a long ways in this crew. i needed to crack a safe.

brought my tools. three boxes of them. and some extra shit from home depot just in case. keyed in, it's great when you have someone on the inside. walked in. and they left me to my devices. it took three diamond drill bits to even breach the first panel and i only had 5 total. but once i got in, it was like reading green eggs and ham. pretty soon we were loading up the money, the jewelry, and whatever else looked of value.

somehow i was king. it should have never worked, but it did. i ended up leaving with one less tool box of shit. the guy in charge took all my broken shit to get disposed of properly. he handed me back my empty toolbox and thanked me. they all patted me on the back and thanked me. we had saved each other. by crime. and for some reason none of them wanted the bearer bonds. a toolbox full of those and my cut. we'll be fine for a long, long time.

rooster

The days passed slowly. Father's face was nothing. There was no emotion. The iron, cutting glance I once knew was long dead, replaced by a shield and a plowshare. The mask was evident with a giat to match. It wasn't as much upright as downward facing. What used to demand respect and attention now was average or even less than. My brother and I knew it. We had to rise to the challenge. Fix our family's legacy and bring back the greatness of our name. Even sitting in the darkened corner of our house, one lesson still shined on and would never burn out: honor.

16 in the clip and 1 in the hold

shiny objects may appear closer in mirror than they actually are.

stomach ache

bank etiquette went out the window literally and figuratively with drive thru tellers. the customer no longer gets a face to face interaction. no longer gets to ogle the teller. it is now just a top half of a body. a top half as a person. a half person from the top. a person cut in half from the top. and now the progression has been to a machine. an automatic teller. where the best of the best get to be drive thru tellers. and the old, depreciated remain behind the counter. til death. robots after one's true heart.

pears

you know when you hear about something and you're like 'oh this is bad. who likes this shit? this will never catch on." then to prove your (most insightful) point, you hop on the old interweb only to discover this "shit" is huge!

yeah... yeah. what's the deal with that? you know?

i was rousted on a sunday morning. too early. super early. there are no vivid memories. colors. schemes from that morning. it was just too damn early. put on my church clothes. they were getting too small for me, but we were too poor to care about an inch or so in the arms and a few in the pants. the nice argyle socks i got for xmas last year will have to suffice. it was spring so my clip on went on last and no overcoat was needed. the little secret between you and i is that i didn't change my underwear for church ever. i always wished the ceiling would collapse onto the congregation, and the ambulance driver would see my bacon strips. i always looked up at the murals on the ceilings. the stained glass windows. sometimes i'd get reprimanded by family members, but hell, isn't that what that shit is there for? i fell asleep during the homily. it was about some kid who went to war. that's bullshit anyways. oh is that kathy? that girl is cute. shit i can't wait for the cookies after the mass. i hope father al doesn't touch me or try to give me a back massage again. i'm freaked to be an altar boy next year. we believe in one god the father almighty....

here it is in writing. the greatest acquisition. Rachel's candle making business started small. xmas gifts for friends, scented candles for grandma's hospital room, custom forms for the smell guys apartments. but now, it appeared she let money win over her art. selling the business for innumerable figures to a national chain. her name being bastardized outside of her original scope. her original idea. her soul isn't black as much as it is tinted a solid shade of gray. she sold part of her whole and will never be able to get it back. her soul is rich as shit.

bbc

Bill. Devin. Andrew. Ronald. Mike. Mark. John. Brett. Eugene. Jake. James. Martin. Robert. Justin. Ken. Ben. Evan. Jon. Eric. Matt. Ian. Larry. Matthew. Peter. Javier. George. Patrick. Joe. Tyler. Matt. Tim. Josh. Russ. Anthony. Ed.Joseph.

you were too slow for me. had to update.

around 11:45 am someone opened the door and the smell that blew in reminding me of the distant fall day when my mom took me to Tippecanoe.

fucking hippies

i keep forgetting no matter how much i think you've changed, your past comes back to haunt you. you can't keep it together. you can't stop the stench. it latches on with hooks of solidification. digging deeper and deeper into your already torn consciousness. you. have. failed. apologies on top of apologies can't erase the present tense reality you've cornered yourself in. and as much as i'd like to blame you for this. i projected it onto you. and i'm sorry for that. sorry for your success.

Serra

A fucking C? Are you kidding me? A C in gym class? and what's this? 2 B's and a B-? Your mother and I did NOT spend our money for your private schooling for you to give hand jobs to that Lawery punk. I know. Calm down honey. Relax Jeff. Well you and your whore daughter over here need to get some hearing lessons. No. FUCK YOU. Your mother was right. Not her, your grandma. She said if I married into this family I would demand death. Well fuck you you old hag. Burn in hell. I'm going to the fucking bar. That honor student bumper sticker better be off the car before I get home. I can't wait to go through this with your sisters.

OMG BOB YES!! I would love a diet coke right now.

Deep in the woods, the forest is immense. Dense layers of trees block out the sun and create an ecosystem of plants, animals and the tiniest of creatures. Algae creeps up the north facade of giant trees. The cycle of life is visible at all angles. From the largest predator stalking the tiny omnivore to the seedlings falling gently from high above. Creatures call out for mates and in times of danger.

greenery

On the one hand it’s understandable and understated that a person should appreciate his or her own life. On quite another the wish and pull toward death is natural, albeit unnerving. Honestly, what kind of lives are we enjoying in the post-post modern era? We seem like mindless fools being pushed toward and through different systems of bureaucracy. Although he was criticized for it then, what Baudelaire said about idleness – that we might spend more time reveling in beauty and basking in the solitude of knowledge – no longer has a place whatsoever.

None of Yours

the temptation was infinite plus one. each arc barely intersected with reality. rationality. vivid rainbows crested through out. over and under. smiles abounded. each one bigger than the last. a black and white nation stood upon the crest of the next great era. but it already was history. one for the record books. remembrance. recalling mob mentality moments just don't seem that appealing because tomorrow means another walk home alone. and the next. social. theatrical. smiles. cries. telling the story over and over again. remember when?

She was rarely seen with her husband but never without her dogs. He lived in the house with her body for two days.

Oracle

The single greatest day of my life. The birth of my daughter Emily. Second only to the day I married my best friend and soulmate. She's passed on. I've been walking this lonely path without her, going on thirty years. I hear our song when I walk through the woods. I remember holding her hand through the last great journey. I'll never forget the day she died. Emily and her husband, Vince, sat holding my hands. We watched God take her that night. The next day we went and ate at the Purple Steer, her favorite restaurant. We celebrated her life. I cried when Emily took out her sea salt from her purse, just like her mother would have.

first

Upon beginning Junior High School in 1993 I still looked like a little kid, and I really wanted to be a cheerleader. Even though I loved Radiohead and flannels, I thought the Taft Tigers were the Shit. “A double u E s.o.m.e, awesome awesome, totally!” I honestly believed. My mom helped me work on my jumps and cheers, and I had a really good tryout for the squad. Round-off into a split? High ponytail? I had it all and mega fucking spirit to boot. I found out on the day of Richard Nixon’s funeral that I didn’t make it. I wished to be an outcast, a martyr with an STP shirt and a marijuana cigarette, but I never had a cause. The day Richard Nixon got buried in the ground was the day I discovered mediocrity. For some, mediocrity signals a will to prove, but for me, it was a beacon. They say Nixon was the president that caused an entire generation to lose hope in government. It was raining so hard that day. I was clinically depressed for the next ten years.