I should be keeping this to myself but...

I'm a little confused.
I don't know why I am.
I usually know what I want.
But this time...
For some reason it's complicated.
I'm stuck between my emotions and my obligations.
I really want to say something.
I really want to be the one.
But desire should never negate priorities.
Hence the predicament.

Fuck, I used to be good at this kind of situation.
An expert at weighing the pros and cons and making the right choice.
Now not so much.

Fuck it, I'll drive.

I'm with her because I'm afraid to be alone. It's the honest truth, I really am. My last relationship really messed me up. The kind that seriously makes you question your self-worth, but totally not in that emo "I fucking hate my life" way. Just the "What the fuck did i do wrong this time??" way. That's why I jumped head first into a string of drunken one night stands for instant, yet empty, gratification; chased after a girl with no end result except for the feeling of having just run in circles for a couple of months like I was dog chasing my own tail; and now being with someone who failed to mention a while back that she had gotten back with her boyfriend while we were still together.

I know I don't trust her anymore, and probably never will. And I know nothing good will come of this but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the attention and much needed affection I get from her, no matter if it's temporary. And it doesn't involve much trust. The point is that I'm having a great time, just being care-free and enjoying myself. And then when it ends, it ends. But until then, don't mind me when I disappear for days at a time. It's just me trying to find myself again, somewhere in between the sheets with her, lip-locked and all that jazz, and in between all the fine lines and fine cautionary print you find at the bottom of the contract you sign when you sell your soul to the devil. I'm figuring out who I am with my ex out of the big romantic abstract picture that is my jumbled up love life. It's like if Pablo Picasso tried to paint the notion of love during his cubism period (If you dont know what that means, then look it up, lol). And if all this soul searching ive been doing and plan to keep doing involves a lot of hot, premarital sex, then so be it. But it's not like we're into whips and chains or anything. That kind of S&M latex shit is reserved for couples and old married people. And THAT, involves a whole lot of trust. LMAO.

"Just because its important to be mentioned a second time."

HE BRO CODE

Rules and Codes of Conduct that EVERY Bro should KNOW and will adhere at ALL TIMES:

-- If a Bro is on a hot streak, another Bro will do everything possibly to ensure its longevity, even if that includes jeopardizing his own records, the missing of work, or temporarily immigrating to a foreign country.


-- Mom of a Bro is always off limits. Be it here resolved that at no point is it permissible for one Bro to engage in carnal delicacies with another Bro's mother. It is, however, allowed and encouraged for one Bro to graphically suggest to a Bro the athletic feats, animalia, and/or machinery utilized during a fictional encounter with his mom. [NOTE: It is customary for a Bro to avoid such Brocularity if his Bro's mom is a 9 or better, for fear of Oedipal inducement.] Should a Bro discover his Bro is in fact adopted, he is free to pursue his Bro's adoptive mother, but only after first corroborating non-biological parentage through notarized birth certificates, hospital records, or comparative dioxyribonucleic acid gel electrophoresis, whichever is easiest. Since the adopted Bro cannot legitimately claim to have shared a canal with his Bro, ARTICLE 89 expressly prohibits the adopted Bro from invoking the Sloppy Second clause in any related filings with the International Court of Bros. Though the mom of a Bro is always off limits, the step-mom of a Bro is allowed if she initiates it and/or is wearing at least one article of leopard print clothing. If she looks good in it.


-- Should a Bro pick up a guitar at a party and commence playing, another Bro shall point out that he is a tool.


-- If a Bro suffers pain from a permanent dissolution of a relationship with a lady friend, a Bro shall offer nothing more than a “that sucks, man” and copious quantities of beer. A Bro will also refrain from pejorative commentary – deserved or not – regarding said lady friend for a period of three months.

-- A Bro must always reciprocate a round of drink(s) among Bros with the proviso that no existing wager supersedes this purchase and exchange of spirits.


-- A Bro must provide his bro with a ticket to an event if said event involves the second Bro’s favorite sports team in a playoff scenario.


-- In a scenario in which two or more Bros are engaged in entertainment of the adult variety, one Bro is forbidden from intentionally or unintentionally touching another Bro in ANY capacity, including but not limited to; the high five, the first bump, or the congratulatory gluteal pat. Winking is also kind of a no-no.


-- A Bro will, in a timely manner, alert his Bro of an impending or ongoing girl fight in an effort to make possible and probable that another Bro or Bros can partake in observation. A timely manner is open to interpretation based on the initial Bro's viewing and processing of the potential feminine conflagration. Said Bro must use any and all methods of media distribution at his disposal, including but not limited to: telecommunications, elbow nudging, fiber optics, the Broney express, and postcards. If an informed Bro is unable to witness the girl fight firsthand, the spotter Bro is responsible for documenting and relating details of the girl fight via pictures, video, or barring any other reasonable method, interpretive dance and/or pantomime.


-- In the event that two Bros acquire the same target, the Bro with the longer dry spell has dibs. Should the dry spells be of equal length, a game of discreet roshambo shall determine the outcome.


-- A Bro shall honor his father and mother.


-- Should a Bro be near to closing with a girl, his Bro shall do anything within his means to ensure the desired outcome, up to and including the seduction of said girl’s wildly unattractive cousin / friend / mother. (NOTE: If said girl's wildly unattractive cousin / friend / mother has a NET weight equal to one and a half [1.5] times the combined weight of both Bros or exceeds 880 kgs / 400 lbs, then a Bro must be compensated with either monetary or non-monetray means that is equal to the amount of humilation that is to be shoulder by the supporting Bro. If no compensation is presented, then a Bro may relieve himself of his duties citing the violation of the "Bros before hoes" article under the pretext of gross neglegance. Unless of course an exchange of favors is owed between Bros, then which such favor must be accepted and maybe classified as a non-monetary form of compensation. )


-- One Bro makes a solo chick attack.
A second Bro provides a crutch.
A third Bro rounds out the pack.
But a fourth Bro is one too much.


-- If a Bro, for whatever reason, becomes aware of another Bro’s girlfriend’s birthday and / or anniversary date, he shall endeavor to make that information available to his Bro, regardless whether he thinks his Bro already knows.


-- A Bro may not speculate on the expected Bro / chick ratio of a party or venue without first disclosing the present-time observed ratio.


-- A Bro shall never reveal the score of a sporting event to another Bro until that Bro has thrice confirmed it’s cool.


-- A Bro shall, whenever possible, provide his Bro with protection. In the event that one Bro finds himself lacking the necessary prophylactic accoutrements needed to complete the act of coitus in a safe and effective manner, he is in the right to expect his Bro will use all measures within or without his means to provide the aforementioned prophylactic in a timely yet discreet fashion. When a Bro signals his need using previously agreed upon code words and/or body signage, it is understood that his Bro will discontinue all present activity [excepting the act of coitus itself whereby which Bro vows to "finish as quickly as possible"], in order to respond with a panoply of options at Bro-in-need's location. A Bro must patronize the most rapid method of transportation available while endeavoring to assist his Bro. In no instance may a two-wheeled bicycle be used as this is not only humiliating, but also potentially harmful to the perineum - a zone of tissue perilously adjacent to noted sexual organs. In the event that a state, federal, international, or galactic law is breached due to recklessness, unacceptable levels of speed, and/or the hijacking of an airborne vehicle(s), it is understood that the primary Bro will shoulder any associated legal fees or fines. However, any costs or damages incurred from the use of public transportation are the responsibility of the secondary Bro alone as this is an instance of Quid Pro Bro. Upon arrival at the primary Bro's location, the secondary Bro must exercise complete discretion so as not to disrupt the primary Bro's "flow." It is understood that a Bro will engage in all training necessary to achieve this objective, including, at minimum, a five month Ninjitsu curriculum mastering the twin arts of stealth and secrecy.


-- A Bro shalt at all times say yes.


-- A Bro shall never "cock block" another Bro intentionally. However, if a Bro did not call dibs on the girl in the presence of the accused Bro or the Bro was unaware, then the cock block shall be deemed as unintentional and the accusations will be dropped. It is the responsibility of a Bro to pass on the information of a pre-established dibs to a Bro that is currently unaware. so as to avoid/prevent a cock block.


-- Thou shalt not make make eye contact during a Devil’s Three-way.


-- Unless explicit permission is granted by a Bro, thou shalt not sleep with your Bro’s ex-girlfriend. And There are no exceptions or excuses a Bro can make to justify going behind a fellow Bro's back.


The Golden Rule

-- Bro's before hoes. Always.

That one thing, i think we call it "Love"

"I dont think people are meant to be by themselves. Thats why if you actually find someone you care about, its important to let go of the little things, even if you cant let go all the way. Because nothing sucks more then feeling all alone, no matter how many people are around."



And to take that further, a little bit of Plato:

Humans have never understood the power of Love, for if they had they would surely have built noble temples and altars and offered solemn sacrifices; but this is not done, and most certainly ought to be done, since Love is our best friend, our helper, and the healer of the ills which prevent us from being happy.

To understand the power of Love, we must understand that our original human nature was not like it is now, but different. Human beings each had two sets of arms, two sets of legs, and two faces looking in opposite directions. There were three sexes then: one comprised of two men called the children of the Sun, one made of two women called the children of the Earth, and a third made of a man and a woman, called the children of the Moon. Due to the power and might of these original humans, the Gods began to fear that their reign might be threatened. They sought for a way to end the humans' insolence without destroying them.

It was at this point that Zeus divided the humans in half. After the division the two parts of each desiring their other half, came together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one. So ancient is the desire of one another which is implanted in us, reuniting our original nature, making one of two, and healing the state of humankind.

Each of us when separated, having one side only, is but the indenture of a person, and we are always looking for our other half. Those whose original nature lies with the children of the Sun are men who are drawn to other men, those from the children of the Earth are women who love other women, and those from the children of the Moon are men and women drawn to one another. And when one of us meets our other half, we are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy, and would not be out of the other's sight even for a moment. We pass our whole lives together, desiring that we should be melted into one, to spend our lives as one person instead of two, and so that after our death there will be one departed soul instead of two; this is the very expression of our ancient need. And the reason is that human nature was originally one and we were a whole, and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called Love.

- Plato's Symposium on Love

its like doing your laundry

a brand new fresh start.
clean.



the details were in the fabric we left at the door..



we broke down and melted into the sheets..
just whispers and soft hands..
eyelash kisses.


then the next morning came,
and we rose back to the surface of the covers..
sheepish smiles..
akward goodbyes..
a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper..
sunken deep in my left jacket pocket..



good morning san francisco...

the fucking SFPD

so last night we were leaving haight because we had gone and picked up some coals for my hookah. were driving along and theres a cop car in front of us. my friend taylor says something along the lines of "oh no, five oh." and we all laugh and whatever. so we were behind the cop at an intersection. when the light turned green he made a left, and we proceeded to make a left also. as we made a left and crossed the intersection, my friend taylor says harmlessly "I SMELL BACON!". unbeknownst to us, there was another cop at the intersection to our right. and by pure coincidence, taylor happen to have his window down while he said the phrase just loud enough for the other cop to hear him say it who also, unluckily, had his window down also. and as were driving, the copper shines his light at us and then i proceeded to get pulled over by the police. and ironically, taylor says "dude, im so sorry if you got pulled over for my saying that." and of course, that WAS the reason why we were being pulled over. so the cop walks up to taylors side and starts grilling him about saying the word bacon. he asks if we were referring to them and truthfully taylor admits that he was referring to the cops ahead of us. (which really doesnt make a big fucking difference to these two cops). and the cops says "Are you sure??? Cause im pretty sure we made eye contact there and we had a moment" (LMAO) and taylor says no and apologizes. so they grab his ID and go back and run it. by this time im pissed of and laughing at the same time and so is everyone else in the car. so the cops walk back and hands taylor his ID. and then the cop proceeeds to say this: "Taylor, youve got a big mouth. and the mouth of yours is going to get you and your friends in trouble. so dont be a pin head." and then he lets us go.




WTF???????????????????????????
lol.
i was equally pissed and laughing my ass off at the same time.
definitely one of the highlights of my week.

the electric skyline keeps calling me...

who wouldve thought 2 weeks would be that significant
but im still here trying to wash her perfume off my skin.
and pack away and categorize these memories
as something to think about
when i start hitting the bottle
and get all nostalgic about past lovers.
but the sweet taste of her lips just wont leave me.
lingering… like i had just placed them on hers.

maybe we took it too far.
maybe we should have just left it at one night
and never looked back on it again.
but 14 days in and we still had no regrets.
well we had one.
that we would have to leave the shelter of our hotel bed sheets
and join the real world again.
to get back to reality.
to go back to work and the routine of things.

and we promised on our friendship
that we would never think about those 336 hours

but here i am, bearing my heart to strangers
and admitting that i wish whole heartedly
that we could some how exist outside
of the world that we built and called our own…

isnt that how its supposed to be?
or how its supposed to work.
when you find someone you want to spend
your lazy and long days with
just laying in bed
wrapped up in each others arms and legs
and never letting go.
seriously, being happy is not supposed to be this hard.

so why then did it get so complicated?
why are there conditions made and secrets kept???
when its all over, we dont even call each other afterwards.
as though the 1,209,600 seconds never took place.

sigh.
i can say we had a good time.
which of course is an understatement.
as if every night we spent lip-locked while
the world was on the brink of absolute destruction.
and we were trying to commit one last desperate sin
before the impending apocalypse...

im just a boy with bad ideas

sometimes doors are closed to keep secrets out, not to keep them in

ive been thinking lots about people i shouldnt be
lets move away from their whispers and looks
and look at the world in a new way

long live our car crash hearts...

im sore throat singing through the curtain at you down the hall in the dark
youre sleeping or just a good actor
in my head this is the way we've always been
you turn me on like a switch and off like a faucet
me walking out dripping wet
trailing my finger nails against the posters on the walls
slipping back into whatever and being careful to shut the door so i dont wake anyone(you)
but you do wake up
in the bedroom you grew up in
its the only place on this entire planet that is yours(that i was yours)
in your bare skin, bare soul - it was the only place i understood you
it was the only way i ever understood you
it was the only place i ever scared you into shyness
it was the only way i could ever argue you into believing you were a hypocrite
and to treat your flaws like old friends

its funny how i came away from this empty handed
and i winced when i realized that i saw this from the start
especially when you only wanted me for me body and never for my mind and heart
you were just a watered down version of everyone else
like reading stephen king rehashed over and over again
it scared me for a second that maybe what i thought was salvation
from writing songs about heartbreak girls for scene boys to slit their wrists to,
was actually me transfroming into a trohy boy and you into my secrets girl
what scared me more though was to let down your expectations
to have you think that "he's(theyre) better at doing what i did best"...

more then anything i hoped that being in between your arms(lips and legs),
would be enough to remind you of my sincerity when i said
"its a coincidence that you look like her from a far"

iamthedream - youarethedreamer

i wrote this down at 4 in the morning
it didnt make sense then and it doesnt make sense now
but it does make sense to write it down at 4 a.m.

ive never felt so violated before
fighting my way past prying eyes and trying times
im making left turns at red lights
and lurking the interweb more often then usual
this rainy city winter under a stolen hoodie always looks the same...

its obvious im as cliche as "catcher in the rye" (but its the best there is)
i look back sometimes at the things i write and i want to throw it all away
but there will always be those days when it gets bad
and the words just fall off my tongue and fingertips
but when its at its worst, the words are contrite and unavoidably cliche
not that it matters but when posts start disappearing
its just me realizing that im just being overdramatic

i'm looking in mirrors and laughing cause im in on it...

60 degree weather,
out of season strawberries,
spring is overdue it in its arrival,
the (oh)baby blue sky is lacking in luster

girls rule the message board while boys try to hold onto the mike
broken promises have lost their meaning
and so have the random postings of makeout queens and princes of scene

i sat at a bohemian cafe wondering if everyone there was truly an intellectual
or maybe the pair of glasses worn half way down the nose
is a sign that maybe everyone is just as cliche as me(im as cliche as everyone else)

this day is dragging with no help
tedious...
unflinching...

dont make any sudden moves or you(i) might wake them(her)
from their nostalgic conversations about places theyve never been to

lack luster sky
rain
coffee shops
me(you)
her(them)
rainy city winter
catcher in the rye
a personality reminiscent of cut-out seventeen magzine articles

theyre(shes) all the same...

home...
home is where you make it
mine is the five inch spot on the small of her back
the safest place in the world to be...

she always smelled of sex and cigerettes

she'd be a pornstar but the camera is only incidental.
i love her more then pen and paper ever could
but only in increments of phrases and paragraphs
i put her picture in a frame and put it face down
on my desk so she could never escape me again

she bases her selfesteem solely on whether
she can make anonymous internet postings or not
everything seemd like a good thing to say
right before she clicks "submit" buttons
everything seems like a mistake afterwards

there was a time before all this started
when we were normal as we could possibly be
will it exist again?

will she remember my oneliners written on napkins
and passed across the table in the most posh restaurant
a place so exclusive we have life time memberships

she'd be a pornstar but the camera is only incidental
i love her but only in one hour incremements
i stare at the clock in the corner of the screen
and take relief that she's still awake like me...