I really don't have much to say

It is because of a non-singular "you" that I will never love again.

I keep living the same day

Groundhog day. It's sort of like that. Couple that with Geoff Rickly's mantra in the United Nations song, "I keep living the same day" and you might be able to come up with a pretty clear picture of what the past few weeks have been for me. I suppose this is playing off just like the aforementioned Bill Murray film, making a royal ass of myself as I wake following 30 minutes of sleep. Over and over again. Time management has always been a long standing issue but I think this would sort of take the cake as to setting a new zenith for non-productivity.

I don't like this. No. I don't like this at all. It's making me feel like crap to be perfectly honest, knowing that the bills aren't getting any cheaper and I'm still not to the point of frantically trying to pull myself across the board for a swift and uneventful graduation. If I'm going to make something of this, I'll have to get to work and I believe the only way I'm getting this into my thick skull is by way of writing.

What do I want to happen, exactly? I want to get all of my paperwork done and I want to stop pushing things aside to slack off. I have enough free time anyway, so I don't get why I have to put so much stuff off for later. Besides, if I get that down, I ought to have enough time to sleep as well. Management. Seriously, I need me some of that. First off, I'm switching all of my documents to Donna, the other laptop. Turning it into a dedicated workstation for writing music, recording, live performances and more than anything, a machine for generating papers. It's only one year and whereas I'm still in sort of a slump, I ought to be able to pull it together this week.

The world never stops passing by and for a self-proclaimed transient, I have to be there in its passing. I have to move with it. It's that same dynamism I have to practice if I want to get to where I want to be.

I'm not starting over, I'm moving forward. Wouldn't want to place any more burdens on anyone.

Uneventful

For the most part, the past few days have been rather uneventful. Things have been looking up as far as the gear acquisition department is concerned but for all intents and purposes, the rest of the world seems to lie stagnant in a dry swell. This could just be due to my growing desire to move out of this city but yeah. I think I'll fight this one out as long as I can.

The first semester's shaping up quite well, not to jinx myself or anything but I think I could see this going somewhere. Somewhere good, I hope. My thesis has been coming together well. Ma'am Gail's been supporting me since the inception of this whole endeavor and by Wednesday, I ought to have the paperwork done so I could get cleared for fieldwork. I'm looking forward to data collection and a whole host of other things filed under ulterior motives.

Caitlyn Bailey, on the other hand is slowly working itself back into shape as well after a short hiatus over the summer. We're looking to release a remastered discography of sorts by mid-July. It'll be self-released under the name Anthology. The cover is done, finishing some parts of the layout then I'll start with the packaging as soon as I get a new paper cutter. I intend to make the whole thing a very personal experience from the band to whoever has it in his or her hands.

I guess that's as much as I could pull together for now. I might chime in later to satiate the need to secure a stable train of thought.

I'll be back real soon.

Distant terminals

Distant Terminals

When the sleepless stray far from the bases of their shadows, the morning shall blossom for us. Hanging from the cradles of daylight, we're so quiet and uncertain. "Will I ever see you again?", I asked and "I'll see you soon" was all you said but I never did see you again. In the currency of time and distance, our fragile words never last; in every fleeting instance, we're all too quick to pass. "I never saw you again.", I said. When "I'll see you soon" was all you said, I never did see you again. I never did see you again.

For every bit of permanence, we never lasted long and as our paths converged on open roads, this meeting was one to mean the most. The beautiful never last long, they say.

From here on in, every untransmitted signal has this to say: "We will always float in dead trajectory; to drift in the spaces where our fragile hands once met."

It is because of a non-singular you that I will never love again.

Mine are the saddest of sullen eyes

The Saddest of Sullen Eyes
Summer, 2010

The beautiful never last long. This is the only relevant truth left for us to believe in; at the very least, it’s the only relevant truth I’m left to subscribe to. Transience only takes us as far as the stories we tell and the histories we share. In this, I hope to be a part of you somehow; situated in my quiet passing, open arms and heart laid bare. For the remaining days I have here, may my voice ring anonymously as the trail to love’s fleeting afterthought.

I only have until the fifteenth of May.

I hope you never find this and I hope you never find me. Never say my name, just remember what I had to say. This would be all. Mine are the saddest of sullen eyes.

I don't see you everyday

I chose to be alone for the sole reason of being near you. I never complained about how you were always in love with somebody else, neither did I bother to stake claim over what I felt was then unattainable. I stayed for you and no one else. I stayed close because I knew no better and sat myself closer for the part of you that I always felt would love me back.

Let’s never settle for short stops and near misses, you always knew what you meant to me.

Apartheid

It’s the colors of love that pull us apart; the vested interest keeps us hanging on and we’re best left with restraining orders.

Neutral coagulants

I will love you forever- if only for the sake of art.

Rest assured

It was wrong of me to ever doubt you. In anything and everything, it’ll always be you.

Only in this yearning

I hope you never find what you’re looking for.

Houses with secret gardens

My house’s silent hallways seem so much more peaceful when I’m alone. Every room and corner here breathes with that same serenity; knowing that everything in front of me is mine to spend an eternity with. From the view of my bedroom window, the world has never looked as haunting. You smiled to me and said, “we’re not the only ghosts here.”

Wilson

You have a name. Don’t say you don’t remember.

The social dances of socialist dancers

Your slow, arcing curvature lives on in the poetry of every lingering movement. In every inch of suspended motion, you speak without ever having said.

“Love…” and I quote, “will this be over soon?”

In the calmness of that moment, I stared at you and said: “I never knew limbs could bend that way. I never knew my will could bend like this and never break.”

Without a word, you let go of my trembling hands and continued dancing.

“By the time the sun sets over this amphitheater, we’d still be far from reaching the end. This dance, it never ends. Not for you, not for anyone.”

We have yet to end this awkward dance.

Our lady

Every martyred saint is a lover prior to death.

Commodity fetishes

We’ve made an artform of walking down opposite ends of the same street. The sidewalks here are conveyor belts and we’re the only people who’d prefer to walk backwards. Honestly, I’d like to think we walk backwards in hopes of meeting halfway.

For whatever it’s worth, you’re the best part of this production. I honestly believe you’re the prettiest part of this production line.

Autobahns

When all roads lead to the same place, the drive is always in circles. Close your windows, I know where you live.

On the verandas of empty houses

This place is haunting without you. I’ve been feeling this way since 1994.

Sailboats

Our bridges may burn as bright as the sun but they are sure to end as beautifully as the haziest of Atlantic sunsets.

At the end of November

For the life of me, I couldn’t just let this go.

Central states and peripheries

Have we become mothers to a brood of hungry fascist children? What then has become of our struggle against totality? This all amounts to nothing. If only for this, we all amount to nothing.

Mountainside empires

Ghost towns are peaceful, really. It’s the loneliness of the city that makes ghosts of us all. I can’t stand it. For a city of ghosts, we are by no means peaceful.

False starts

April and May, I’m always yours. This lifetime is ours to own.

...or so we thought

You weren’t who you said you were. That’s exactly who you are. I don’t know why I like you so much that way.

Open arms to clearer windows

Only when I wake to find you here do I realize that none of this is ever real.

Untitled

Untitled

These quiet mountains march in with a thousand peaks but bear no summit. Gazing upon the horizon with starry eyes and bewildered smiles, daylight hangs as a pendulum for us; meridian only to the space between where heaven and the sea meet.

It's sad for me to say I'll never see you again.

Untitled

Untitled

Two asterisks run swiftly across an open field in hopes of finding shelter from the morning shower of our half-formed ampersands. Stumbling as they move along, they help each other up that they may both still carry on.

In a house of hanging mirrors, one says to the other, "Stop, wait, listen to me. We could only go so far." We stop and listen, pausing for a second; "such fragile asterisks we are..."

Our hands are half-formed ampersands.