M is for Miles...

I stood on the roof of a venue last night. My pupils were big, my eyes were wider. I looked up at a building where friends and friends of friends do drugs different then the ones I was on right then. If it wasn't the breeze on my skin, or the cigarette smoke filling my lungs, then the chills had to be from some combination of her eyes, voice and hands. Sweet words were whispered into my ears about manifest destiny or the secret spots in our hearts that you need more than one map to find. Our hands were locked in a death grip, sweaty from the beating of hearts full of possible love and drugs, fingers rubbing together to keep the sense of security alive. The brown of her eyes was being over taken by the black of her pupil, and they said everything I knew. Past, present, and future laid end to end counting the steps to a heart.

I rub my hands sometimes to remind me of how it felt to be so close.

13/26

Missing The War

This is for Zane's Birthday, it is late, like pretty much everything I do in my life. I keep listening to three songs over and over, let's see if they put themselves into this.

I've been coming to this blog a lot lately, to see if I have talked about something already, to see how I used to feel about people, places and things, and to help me figure out what is going on in my head. Isn't that what detectives do? Go through someones past life to figure out what frame of mind they were in or whatever? Well, I am detecting myself lately. Anyways. I've been coming to this blog a lot lately, and the pictures on the right side bar continue to be from Dan and Marliegh's wedding on Fourth of July. None of the scenes in the pictures are familiar. They make sense; I can tell when people are drinking, dancing, crying, fighting, whatever. But I didn't see any of this happen. I was standing behind a table playing the soundtrack for most of the night. I enjoy doing this, but it got me thinking.

More days and nights lately my mind is somewhere else. It is in kitchens of houses on streets with numbers for names. It is in car rides, bus depots, airport terminals and standing on docks. Its at weddings, funerals, hospitals, gravesides, baseball games, and graduations. It is at the beach, in a lake, at a waterfall, beside a cliff, on a peak, in the desert and lost. It is holding hands, kissing, fucking, punching, crying, hugging, celebrating, singing and dancing with girls, women, men, boys, family, friends, coworkers, bosses and alone.

But I can't prove it. There are pictures somewhere, in some box or some landfill or sitting in a drawer undeveloped. There is video, maybe, in a format that no one could possibly still play. No one took minutes though. No one wrote a description in journal to be cataloged and referred to by someone someday to prove/disprove my existence. But I was there.

And fuck them if they don't believe me.

I meant everything. Even when I lied, or stole, or cheated, or whatever thing didn't seem right; I meant it. Every kiss, every tear, every thrust, every hug, every joke, every curse, every compliment, every erection, every stare filled with anger/passion/pain, every song, every mistake, every regret (no regrets, no looking back at sinking ships). All of it. I did it, I felt it, and I meant it.

You can't find it in photographs. You cant find it a video. You can't find it in a third hand story. It is all in my heart and my head.

There are nouns I have forgotten. They come back into my head every once in a while. I still care about them. There are things here I have forgotten to say. But if I said everything I had to say, I would have nothing left for tomorrow, nothing left for this.

But there is one thing.

Happy Birthday Zane.

Don't stand there, participate. I am sure you already are.

This day could someday be an anniversary

The hills are burning. It might be an omen, for the right or wrong decision. I don't really know. The thing is, about this, about all of this, was that when it first started to fall apart, last October, I thought my heart was broken then. I thought I had healed it, that things were getting better. But now that I look back on the last ten months I know that wasn't true. It broke big that day, in the bathroom, but it didn't heal. I just sort of added stuff into the crack, and it fell out. It broke a little more everyday. I did it to myself, which is the part that I don't like to admit. I thought I would be able to fix it, I couldn't. I thought I could look past it, I wouldn't. I thought I could forget it, I can't. To borrow from a friend of mine, to take something from him about something much more important and tragic than this, and try to attach it to something less, "in like a lion, out like a lamb gone astray". I was excited to plan a wedding, I was excited to wear a suit, I was excited to dance to my favorite songs, with my mom and dad and all my friends. I was excited for beer koozies and burritos, bachelor parties, cans on the back of a car, a honeymoon, all of it. And I miss it all right now. A lot.

I know it is right, that I am not getting married today. It isn't her fault. It isn't my fault. It is how the cards were dealt and how they were played. It would have been an epic party, the hills burning, it snowing ash on the bride and groom. It sounds too good to be true. And it is.

I've been running this in my head for months. It isn't a final draft, but I need to get them out of my head, for me.

I remember the first time I saw your smile. I remember the first time I heard your whit. I remember the first time we sat on the couch and shared all those surface level things that make us more of who we are then we care to admit. I remember the first time we got drunk together. I remember the first time we fought. I remember the first time we made up. I remember saying goodbye to you at the airport, and it being one of the saddest days of my life. I remember opening the door to you the day I got back, and how happy I was. I remember waking up in my tent, in my old room, with you, and it feeling perfect. I remember asking you to marry me on the beach that night, and puking afterward. I remember all the downs, and all the ups, all the hot days and the cold ones. I never wanted to spend them with anyone else, and I am glad that starting today, I never have to spend them with anyone else. I love you.

I wanted this to be the song we danced to. I'm sorry no one will ever see it.

About that picture

We went walking from her parents house down to the beach. We drank some beer and some brandy. We accidentally interrupted another couple enjoying the moonlit night. We stood a few hundred feet from the spot on the beach where the picture on the top of this blog was taken.

I didn't have a plan. I didn't have a ring. I didn't have an idea what the reaction would be. But I did it anyway. I got on both knees and asked her to marry me. If one is good, then two should be better, yeah? And she said yes. It was 1:16 in the morning. And only us, the moon, and the oceans knew.

I woke up in the morning, and we were both curious if we were still going to do it. We were. And we are. Phone calls were made to parents and the closest friends. Text messages and emails about the news were sent out. And now you know too.

If you read this, you are invited. We seem to be aiming for May of next year. When the official date comes, you will know. And you will get to see Whit marry people, in person!

So I'm going to start planning a wedding, you should start planning your next visit to California.

nervous energy and the music that doesn't help

And in a new northside home / I can spend a night alone / Not thinking of who I would leave / If the bottle got the best of me. - I Am Not Who I Used to Be by The Gunshy

I am a ball of energy. I work in less than 2 hours. I already rode my bike to lunch and back. I already played guitar for about an hour. So much energy.

Long drive home / Shoes on the staircase / You play new songs / Come recommended from / A guy you know / But you don't mention his name. - Channeling th Boss by Deepshit, Arkansas

I am having anxiety today, a little at least. I am nervous. Not a worried nervous, just nervous. I guess that makes it anxious.

Could we be saved by inventions and hopes? / Cause I'm not all right. / The night seems to swallow me whole and spits out / second guessing. - Young Loud and Scotty by Lifetime

I haven't been feeling 25 lately. More like 15. 10 years off the mind, body and heart. I don't dread waking up. I don't hate going to work. I don't have never ending thoughts of impending doom. I am enjoying every second spent with my roommates and my friends. Every song I listen to or sing along to feels better than the song before. I'm feeling things and saying things I haven't in years. I had no idea being back in California would work out so well for me.

I always wanted / Your affections / Now I don't know what to do with them / You say you crave / My attention / But I'm Tired and I won't be dragged back in. - Dragged Back In by The Weight

I'm going to take a bath.

you ain't done nothing with your life

This gentleman, I don't know him. But what he stands for, what he represents, with his suit, and his crew cut, and his model rocket; no thank you.

I stood outside of Pepper's yesterday with two men who should have been wearing suits. Their briefcase bags were heavy with reports and findings on consumption and waste. They ran numbers in their heads of where they were succeeding and where I was failing. And it wasn't just the ability to raise money for charity. Or the ability to get other people who should have been wearing suits to drink at our restaurant. The areas where I wasn't failing counted for nothing. Any amount of commitment I had so far displayed to the company had no further bearing. He didn't say it, but he didn't have to.

I am no company man.

I may have shown flashes in the past. But not lately, not anymore. I have holes in my shoes. I don't wash my shirts as much as I should. I don't shave. I don't care. I am Robin Hood of the drunks, giving from the rich to anyone who will take it. Salads, Chips, Steaks, Guacamole, Beer and Shots.

When mediocrity is being embraced and hard work is being ignored. When the men and women who should be wearing suits are screaming in ears every 2 minutes about charity so they can have a larger bonus. When minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years of work go unaccounted for to save on benefits and vacation pay. When your place of employment ruins your ability to enjoy yourself while you make them money. When these things happen, I am holding the back door open and profits are running out the back door.

It will end soon. I won't come back for a break, or won't show up for a shift, or they will ask me to never come back. There will be tears of joy and high-fives at my employment's demise. Drinks will be shared, stories of the good times passed around. I will continue to exist. Pepper's will continue to exist. Those men will get their suits, and they will have them taken away. And there will be more tears with less joy and high-fives of a stronger sort but by many more people.

And that day will be glorious.