Summer in Pictures

I'm tired of words. Of making them. I've been doing a lot of reading. And that is enough.

Besides, a picture is always sufficient. Whatever it is, even if the photographer was intending something specific, it can be interpreted a different way and mean just as much to someone else.
I suppose the same is the case with words. But maybe sometimes my words become too internal and abstract and too self-involved and I look at them the next day and want to take them down.

But it is hard to take down a photo. Because it is there. And I am not imposing my bias upon it.

So thus this summer will be in pictures. Because this summer I don't have much of a bias. My voice has quieted to a whisper because I've lost things that once made it steady. But it always comes back. The destruction and construction of life continues in cycles.

And in the meantime I am just here and taking it in. And secretly nursing a hollow that's giving way to a sinkhole.

But it is ok for now.

And I ended up saying more than I intended anyway.

Salvia Divinorum

Your faces split into an unfolding kaleidoscope of colored layers that mixed with a Persian design and multiplied further and it became all I could see. And then a dark feeling of leaving everything overcame me and I imagine it was a little bit like dying. And then I came back.

Ok.

Hey Guy, Lantern Light

I'm sitting on the couch with my shirt off. I'm staring into the midnight blue wall, thinking about nothing at all.

There's a dog on my left growling his attention to the darkened street outside.

There's a dog to my right, his eyes rolling up into his head and his head rolling back on his neck and his tongue slack over his mouth that is a big smile as he's getting scratched.

There's a rhythm in my head that only I can hear and so these words form a song that you won't hear when you read this.

I'm thinking I made a fool of myself again, and I'm thinking the regret and the guilt is a better feeling than that dark misty lapping that I used to feel. That infinite doubt seemingly incurable built into the strongest wall you've ever felt with your fingers.

That I thought I'd never get past, and I didn't even know why. And I have gotten past something, but there's still a ways to go. You can almost see it like a long desert road curving into a heat blur.

It is quiet now. This rhythm is dying but I heard it for a long time and it is a rhythm that the hot liquid puts into you, and it is cheaper than a bottle of Prozac.

What is happening to us?

But don't worry. Questions lead to more questions but some of them do get answered with the help of time.

I watched the gnats hovering in a cloud over the golden-green grass and I realized something fundamental...that life buzzes dense and thick and this head won't matter and you'll all be alright.

Hunger is Not Funny

The boy, coming in from an afternoon swim, found himself famished and weak. He spotted a white plastic bag on the table and he opened it up, revealing a tupperware full of some sort of leftover.

Alright! Fettuccine! So good! He warmed it up in the microwave and sat down and prepared to eat it. He added crushed red pepper and ate it with pieces of bread. It was absolutely delicious.

The pasta completely hit the spot. His spirits were rejuvenated. There was still some left so he proceeded to finish it up.

At that moment, the father came in through the front door, heaved a great sigh, and said to the boy, "Ah hey son, I'm just here to pick up my..." He was stopped mid-sentence when he saw that his son was eating the lunch he forgotten to take to work.

The father fell down onto the couch, his legs failing him, and stared off at something that the boy would never see. The boy watched him, perplexed. His father hadn't finished his sentence, he had no idea what was wrong.

Finally, the father turned to him, his eyes now full of tears. With a look of shattered dignity (he was openly weeping in front of his son; this was supposed to never happen, he was supposed to be a strong figure for his son to believe in), he said to his son, barely able to form the words, "You have no idea how much I was looking forward to that Fettuccine...

I love Fettuccine."

The End of Total Shit, For Now

Yeah done. Done. Done.

And now it is summer, which means not many posts.

Though it's not like there were very many this past week anyway. Nothing meaningful anyway.

Yeah.

On The Verge of The End of Total Shit, For Now

Haaaahaaaaa! Only one more stinkin' final!

Stinkin'...wait...I meant fuckin'.

Theme, Colon, Sentence, Repeat

Soon: The end of this terrible, terrible quarter. The end of the bad slow, and the beginning of the good slow. The heat-shimmering sprawl that is summer.

The Bad Slow: Depression, sluggishness, in the depths of a sinkhole that is physically and mentally impossible to climb out of. An oceanic weight pressing down on one's head who is too tired and too filled with the Truth to fight it.

The Good Slow: Lazy heat dream. A continuous stream of shapeless days of sweet boredom that washes down the acrid taste of college commuter life. Maybe a job. Maybe trips up the PCH. Maybe anything, yet all maybes with the freedom to do or not do. (Sort of)

Queens of the Stone Age: It will be a summer of Queens, no doubt about it brother. And other things.

Drugs and Alcohol: Check yes, rockstar. Maybe first secure job though. Then the checking of the yes.

Farting: I'm sorry. It had to be mentioned at a time like this.

Lingering Melancholy: Yes, always. But it is easier to fight under the sun. Vitamin D, man.

Question: Where are ya, kid?

Ripe Knowledge (For the Picking)

Today I learned that if you build a big goddamn tower that can be seen from miles away wherever you want people to come, they will come there.

Just make sure there's actually something there. Or they wont stay very long. And word will spread.

I mean, people will still probably come to check out your big goddamn tower, but the area won't exactly become a booming cosmopolitan economic beehive, or anthill, or whatever similar construct in nature that connotes business and bustle.

Well, not overnight anyway.

Only More Varied and Complicated

Sometimes when I am very hungry, and very low, and I am sitting in class, and all of my senses are dulled from the waning energy, all of the voices come to me as if they were drifting from a place far away and blurred, or reaching me through a thick plate of glass, and they become shapeless and indistinct, and I realize what they are: animal sounds just like any other.

Just more varied and complicated.

Burning Soft

The sky is trying to reflect itself on the surface of the water but it is night and the water is backlit. The pool is light blue and sits neon under the plum purple sky, which is glowing from the failing light reflecting off of the clouds above.

I sit in the jacuzzi which is glowing an orange of its own, and steaming in the night air. The orange makes it onto the steam and a fading color rises up to reach the purple sky.

It feels like a lot of things in here, near the warmth jets. It feels like a heated crystal cave if I close my eyes and the light gets through the lids. Orange crystal everywhere. Shimmering dark.

I find myself almost asleep and jump with a start back to the buzzing electric purple sky.

In my mind someone is talking to me, no one in particular, a voice with no face, maybe myself:


"Look, the sky is in the jacuzzi."

"No, that's just a reflection."

"But it is there, don't you see it?"

"Come off it. That is just light reflecting the image of the sky back at you."

"I want to climb into it and see if I fall."

"Yeah, be my guest, we'll see what happens."

"I'll fall slowly. Like in a dream."

"Yeah, it'll be like a dream alright. What's the matter with you anyways?"

"I wish you could see the sky."

It doesn't make any sense yet. There's no use pursuing it. Let it flutter off into the distance a while, but keep the end of the rope around the wrist.

After I come to under that sky again, I decide I'd better go in before I drown myself.

There's something about the night and its shadows and the interplay of moonlight and artificial light that completely changes the experience of everything.