You, Creatures of Diars

(Monument, 2009)

A tree will stand where my body once laid. The grass will die and grow and die again where the mount protrudes. The worms will eat, and I will watch the endless changing of the seasons. The ground will freeze and become the harshest wall there ever was, with dirt sharp teeth, cold and icy stings. I can hear the earthdwellers sing, I can hear the marching of feet. They are going somewhere far, and my eyes can't reach. Someone bring me flowers, someone say my name before I forget. Where are those boys, tricksters and thieves, luring girls to kiss upon a field of stones and twisted oak. I want to be robbed, I want to be disturbed. I want those teenagers to jam those rocks songs that curse their world. Saying hell, hell, hell, and bitches be slayed. All this quiet is rotting me tired, all this peace is making me restless. Where are my arms, where are my feet, I want to kick, I want to scream, let me in or let me out! Take me far, burn me good. Spread me dry and send me deep. Say a few words, and spit me out. Burn me memories, and haunt the house I call home. Tell stories of me, twist them with time. Call me nasty, call me dirty. Summon my bones, and tickle my feet. I am disappearing, I am floating to others, within the walls, in transparency, you can't yet see me, but you can't quite forget. When there is chilly, think of me, when there are bumps, call to me and say to fuck off. Just please, just don't forget me dying here under the trees.

I'm With Stupid

(The Van, from The Road to Montreal, 2010)

Fuck what you've heard. When all of this shit clears out, when all of our troubles are done (if they could ever be undone), then what? This world, this us, these moments, all will fail, all will fall, and where we stand will longer be the point where two points meet to form a bridge, to form an arch, to form a gateway to lands of unforgivable, beautiful, ridiculous moments. Our skin is peeling back, our eyes are red, and our fingernails are black. Don't smell my feet, don't look at me too close, because I won't smell your breath, and I won't taste your hair. You, your disguise is my lust, for ugly is the new beauty, and where perfection comes short, or is never at all, you stand in all your inglory. I hold these fragments high, so that the sun can bath them, and over time they will fade to the bleaching radiation. All of our memories are being forgotten, and the only thing that remains are feelings; detached and faceless. Waking up next to a stranger, who are you. All I know is that I want to be stupid with you ->.

Something I'm Used Ta

We used to call times together infinite moments, nowadays we're lucky to spend any time together. The joy, the thrill, what made it so isolating is now gone, and we're casuals to each other, I know the hide of your back you know the pride of my neck, and that's that. I can dig a hole to China, but what do I do once I get there (don't even know chinese)? I can bike for days and days but eventually I'm going to need a destination. This place makes me feel old, I'm young for God's sake, but I feel old like time. And these times are telling me, it's time for new. The nomad in me says go, the people I see say go, my feet, well, they're gone, so what is left (my heart). I don't know anymore, an apartment full of stuff I leave for months on end and forget about. It is fear, a fear like no other, it is the fear all adults have, it is the settling down, it is the regulation of life, and creating an everyday. There are some folks that are doing what they've been doing their whole life: adventuring (those Joyce's, those Kerouac bums). And what's the real difference between those folks and you and I (unless you're living adventure all the time, but where do you find the time to read obscure blogs) and those go-getters-fo-realzies? Back again to this fear that is faceless, a fear that is undefined and yet we know what it is, a fear that has worked its way into the fabric of our lives, and is the reason why we are planning out our weeks, keeping a regular job, and working full-time to buy things that we can easily forget once we are separated from it.

I'm going to put my foot down, I'm going to say I can embrace change, and I will, and I will take on this fear, alone, naked, confused, and blindly walking forward with no thought and no concern, for the future. And perhaps that is what the fear is, our future, for what ever the hell it is going to be, it is uncertain whether you stay or you go, lose it all, or gain a winning lotto, it's all the same, the difference is nothing, between sitting and standing, moving and chilling out. We all gotta go, we all gotta live, we all have our stories, so why not add some more spice to our next dish of getthefuckoutofhere (and live the rest of your life).

(Don't Make This Any Harder Than It Has To Be, 2010)

(documentation of new mask, 2010)

These days my ideas are getting stranger and wilder and wilder the more I seem to get away with. I think it is exciting.

(Untitled Occult image, from Barking Wall, 2010)

My words have been absent, for how long, I am uncertain. For now, there are images.

(Mystic Mountain, 2010)