Shocking my body into thought

I am only taking cold showers. I don't want any steam covering the glass of the doors. I want to see the reflection of my body shivering and shaking in the mirror. Old scars raise out of my flesh, purple and now no longer forgotten; a road map of accidents to counter the road map of life I had drawn on my skin. The soap sticks to my skin longer than it should, my hands wipe then scrub. I let the freezing water attack my face, opening my eyes to it as an anonymous punishment for some sin I'll commit in someones eyes. Some people pray, some repent. I sit in cold showers while the saddest songs play on repeat and are occasionally drowned out by the world spinning past me outside of the window. Tears, sweat, blood, mucous, and other things blend with the water and slip down the drain. I count the beats of my heart while I hold my breath. Each day it is a little longer. Each day there is another beat or two. Each day I have to remind myself to let it go; the breath and the day.

Y is for Yesterday...

Yesterday I spent my time in someone's bed. It wasn't mine. It was for sure not yours. And the day before, or maybe the day before, someone, who obviously wasn't you, spent time in my bed. It is supposed to make me feel better, supposed to keep my mind off of you; off of everything. But it doesn't.

Yesterdays pile up. They have names, and titles, and mixes, and fucking blog entries. They all have the same base, the same motivation, the same reason. We all know. We all saw it at the beginning. And that is ok.

I don't worry about yesterday. Not anymore. I've had a ton, a shit-ton if you will. And some of them have been fantastic. But most of them were shit. Don't believe me? Here's some thoughts.

Yesterday I dropped out of school.
Yesterday I got fired.
Yesterday my mom moved out.
Yesterday my dad moved away.
Yesterday my mom moved away.
Yesterday I was left.
Yesterday I left _____.
Yesterday I overdrew my bank account.
Yesterday I couldn't make rent.
Yesterday I ran out of paint.
Yesterday I couldn't write.
Yesterday I lost my voice.
Yesterday I lost a friend.
Yesterday you moved away.
Yesterday you didn't talk to me.
Yesterday I missed you.
Yesterday I loved you.

But then they change.

I write.
I paint.
I love.
I sing.
I dance.
I cry.
I feel.
I miss.
I hope.
I try again.

A very specific part of my life is coming to a close soon. Or at least how I documented it.

I won't ever be able to make sense of it.

I may be seventy years old, cuddling on a couch, reminiscing with you on the piece of furniture some of my friends, and some of your friends, and strangers and day laborers helped us move from place to place, about this letter, or that other letter. There will be memories that got pushed out the back of our minds by pictures of family, vacations, funerals, weddings, births and the type of things that people ask "where were you when..."

Or maybe we ebb and flow over the next few years, never quite lining up, always in the wrong place at the wrong time. A decade later there is a familiar, but strained, if not entirely forced, evening with a cocktail and some small talk. And that night we finally walk out of eachother's lives. Better off, but definitely worse for the wear.

Or maybe in a couple nights you show up again. Breeze into my life. And we see it is wrong. That we lost whatever we had. Or there was never anything at all.

Yesterday everyone was right.
Yesterday I was wrong.
Yesterday, you, you knew all along.

I guess that is the problems with yesterdays. You never really know.

25/26

did someone say hiatus?

Sounds like a great fucking idea to me! I've got things to deal with, yards to sit in, songs to write, places to put of visiting, vigils to keep, and, oh yeah, money, pills and girls.


"Watching simpsons, afraid to call you..."


It'll only be a couple of weeks, I promise!

Dear Football...

Today is the beginning of football season. I don't count the Thursday game. I don't like the Giants, and I don't like football on Thursdays. I have a few wishes I want football to grant for me this year.

• Keep the Madden Curse ALIVE!
• Let Hester Break the all time returns for TD's record. Against the Colts.
• Let ESPN's Mr Fantasy Guy not convince me to start someone who will ruin my fantasy team that week.
• Have this be the last 16 game season.
• Don't let my cable go out during any games.
• And last and not least, bless Neckbeard.

Go Bears!