" sing a song "

---

erratic movements, loud clanks and reverb in the darkness. green laser-beams and red pinhole lights sway and jerk in moments along the walls of a certain spastic geometry.

we are raucous chaotic vibration. snacks and alcohol strewn about the table. tomes of songs with the remote wrapped in plastic. tambourines & jodeci/mariah dreams. the microphone has a safety health cover on it "just in case," but just in case of what?

it's 7pm, 8pm, midnight, 1am. the night becomes a beautiful blur. this is cheaper than therapy; it is my therapy. this is my release; i am free. elvis looks on from a static portrait. he blesses us with his immortal crooked smile. the night goes from young to endless, and we ride the tunes raw until we are asked to leave.

this is poetry in motion.

---

" green grass & postcards "

---

setting some time aside for myself, on my time frame, and for all indulgent and positively selfish reasons.

making sure everything else is squared away. all responsibilities to others, rent is paid, groceries purchased or fully consumed, emails read and responded to, laundry cleared up or in the wash, and calls made.

while i love being helpful to anyone who needs help no matter how insignificant or how small a task, there is absolutely nothing like the freedom of going about your own route, making your own way, and meandering along a path of your choosing.

please only miss me for a day before contacting me with concerns. and if you haven't missed me at all, the return to worry will happen soon i promise. if you need of me, i will be following my curiosity to destinations unknown.

---

---

after the initial song begins, it's all just beauty entered and enveloped. just a unified sonic tide ebbing and receding throughout, permeating the nervous system.

allowing yourself entrance into all of those feelings, and experiencing the sensations of being able to let go. i never leave a great concert unaffected.

blinding lights and buzzing lusciousness. all the senses piqued and stretched. all the sound and depth entering my body through the skin and traveling down past the bones and into the marrow.

---

—- 
 each day in sweet contemplation on all facets, all ideas flourishing, all ideas brewing, all the loves, all the deaths, all the future travels from here to there to here to there. a meditation, a consultation with the Self, a conversation. 
 we spend so much of our time in states of doubt and confusion, of course it will affect us, but perhaps with more practice and active awareness, we begin to transcend the default of those reactions. 
 when you can notice your fear and anger rising, you can begin to measure your response. as in most things both mental & physical, the thought is known, forms, and makes itself present. 
 the thoughts and feelings may alter, but the body still reels and swells with emotion. the body remains most honest and echoes long after. and we may also alter and temper our reactions with active practice. 
 whether in fury or in affection, the sensations wash throughout from the top of the head to the bottoms of the soles of the feet, and each sensation sublime. 
 —-

—-

each day in sweet contemplation on all facets, all ideas flourishing, all ideas brewing, all the loves, all the deaths, all the future travels from here to there to here to there. a meditation, a consultation with the Self, a conversation.

we spend so much of our time in states of doubt and confusion, of course it will affect us, but perhaps with more practice and active awareness, we begin to transcend the default of those reactions.

when you can notice your fear and anger rising, you can begin to measure your response. as in most things both mental & physical, the thought is known, forms, and makes itself present.

the thoughts and feelings may alter, but the body still reels and swells with emotion. the body remains most honest and echoes long after. and we may also alter and temper our reactions with active practice.

whether in fury or in affection, the sensations wash throughout from the top of the head to the bottoms of the soles of the feet, and each sensation sublime.

—-

—- 
 you have to want it so bad, more than anything else, and will it into existence. from the heart up through the brain-stem to the senses to the skin to the meat & musculature to the bones. 
 if it’s anything i’ve learned from the entirety of my life thus far, it’s that there is not the sort of magic that you believed in as a child. the whole of growing up and through to early adolescence leads up to the eventual realization that there are no easy answers. 
 everything is amazingly complex and multifaceted, filled with nuances and intimate delicacy. how i’ve been so confident in my youth, and at present feel very strong that i alone am the one that must put the effort into it all, or nothing will come of all those desires and dreams. 
 you are owed nothing, and there are no absolutes. it’s all the gray area in between, thick like a fog of your own device. how it lifts and clears in entirely up to you. 
 and if you have a belief in me and mines, i will have a belief in you and yours. 
 —-

—-

you have to want it so bad, more than anything else, and will it into existence. from the heart up through the brain-stem to the senses to the skin to the meat & musculature to the bones.

if it’s anything i’ve learned from the entirety of my life thus far, it’s that there is not the sort of magic that you believed in as a child. the whole of growing up and through to early adolescence leads up to the eventual realization that there are no easy answers.

everything is amazingly complex and multifaceted, filled with nuances and intimate delicacy. how i’ve been so confident in my youth, and at present feel very strong that i alone am the one that must put the effort into it all, or nothing will come of all those desires and dreams.

you are owed nothing, and there are no absolutes. it’s all the gray area in between, thick like a fog of your own device. how it lifts and clears in entirely up to you.

and if you have a belief in me and mines, i will have a belief in you and yours.

—-

—-

slipped through my fingers and the winds kicked up. disappeared behind the rush of a passing train. i turned around, and you vanished. out of my presence, out of view, out of reach.

in all of these places i’ve loved you. i’ve despised you. i’ve missed you, pined for you, lost you.

but i do see you there in the details. the echoes and the memories which manifest like phantoms of the past. and just like those blessed and beautifully delicate memories, they continue to haunt me, both good and bad ones. hopes among the despair, glimmers of gladness in the shuffle.

and they shape who i have become and continue to be. things happened like they happened, and of course it’s fine. this is the grasp of a linear life.

what a lovely tragedy, this melancholic existence. we are destined to feel from the first to the last, and in all that exquisite sustained lifetime in between.

—-

—-

we keep our heads above the waters, bobbing and treading as waves lull and roil about in this ocean of unknowns.

we’re doing the best we can, and non one will ever know how it feels. the most we can do is empathize and promise to take care of the business at hand at the time, in the moment, on the day, in due time.

we are meeting each other in the existing spaces, and can only find the words if the words come. sometimes we talk for hours and have meaningful exchanges.

sometimes we sit in the silence of each others company, need no words, and have meaningful exchanges.

—-

—- 
 some nights you have to embrace the close-quarter chaotic rumbling mouth-hot chatterbox echo overlapping grit gold neon flashing subterranean hollows of new york. 
 its embrace is a slightly uncomfortable alluring and confusing one, but what variety. what distinction and electricity. 
 the successful navigation through the multitudes of long faces and loud contortions both invigorates and restores. it becomes a rite and method of passage. 
 and at times you find yourself flush with a wide beam of spreading elation, traveling like the tributaries of lightning throughout your entirety. 
 —-

—-

some nights you have to embrace the close-quarter chaotic rumbling mouth-hot chatterbox echo overlapping grit gold neon flashing subterranean hollows of new york.

its embrace is a slightly uncomfortable alluring and confusing one, but what variety. what distinction and electricity.

the successful navigation through the multitudes of long faces and loud contortions both invigorates and restores. it becomes a rite and method of passage.

and at times you find yourself flush with a wide beam of spreading elation, traveling like the tributaries of lightning throughout your entirety.

—-

—- 
 joyful raucous screaming and shrieks and laughter and cooing are heard with crystalline clarity as they travel the invisible line of brain-reaction-throat-mouth-tongue-teeth-lips-air-ear-brain-body-soul-ether. 
 brilliant lights gleam through pinholes in a rainbow of motorized beams, flickering and flitting past our closed eyelids. 
 there is nothing like this. there are many things like this. 
 each moment is pure trajectory from weighted to anti-gravitational. our songs are heard, our spirits soar, and each one of us has a private delight made public. 
 —-

—-

joyful raucous screaming and shrieks and laughter and cooing are heard with crystalline clarity as they travel the invisible line of brain-reaction-throat-mouth-tongue-teeth-lips-air-ear-brain-body-soul-ether.

brilliant lights gleam through pinholes in a rainbow of motorized beams, flickering and flitting past our closed eyelids.

there is nothing like this. there are many things like this.

each moment is pure trajectory from weighted to anti-gravitational. our songs are heard, our spirits soar, and each one of us has a private delight made public.

—-

—- 
 we glory in our cinematic revelry. electric lights flickering in dark rooms, a screen prompt with highlighted words flashing and receding. 
 this is the ether. this is the ultimate, and we are ageless despite the linear existence of these musical pieces. 
 spilling drinks on the floor, do you want more? finding snacks on the low table, how much are we able? dancing like everyone is watching, with ceaseless abandon and laughter. 
 after we leave our singsong ram-shackled den, grab handfuls of free sweets at the payout counter, and take the smallest elevator down, out, and into the street, we are flying. 
 each moment an endless journey into a beautiful landscape, traipsing by other strangers & feeling the most alive. the most alive. 
 —-

—-

we glory in our cinematic revelry. electric lights flickering in dark rooms, a screen prompt with highlighted words flashing and receding.

this is the ether. this is the ultimate, and we are ageless despite the linear existence of these musical pieces.

spilling drinks on the floor, do you want more? finding snacks on the low table, how much are we able? dancing like everyone is watching, with ceaseless abandon and laughter.

after we leave our singsong ram-shackled den, grab handfuls of free sweets at the payout counter, and take the smallest elevator down, out, and into the street, we are flying.

each moment an endless journey into a beautiful landscape, traipsing by other strangers & feeling the most alive. the most alive.

—-

—- 
 i wish that i didn’t have regrets. i wish that i took the photos i meant to take when i saw them, and now i’m haunted by their nonexistence. 
 i wish that i stepped forward more often, approached more of those interesting strangers more often, said something, said anything. 
 didn’t want to infringe, ruin the already anxious commute, put someone out, or make someone uncomfortable in a public space. 
 it’s such a strange fine line though. whether to engage or respect people so much that you forgo any and all interaction of any kind. but this at times may prove a mistake. 
 if not you then it’ll be some other person, and they may not be so kind, or interesting, creative, honest, or brave. they might be the reason you don’t do something about a feeling which stems from a place of appreciation. 
 by you not saying or doing anything, you’re showing yourself that there is no shared experience, save a feeling of alienation and forced bubble of privacy. you’re helping to extend the notion that we are not all in this together. 
 and we are in this together. (we are all sort of weird already, but isn’t it a comfort to know that we are all weird together? i think so, and there’s a certain poetry in that.) 
 i wish that i didn’t have regrets, and in the near future, you just might meet me out in the world being slightly bold or bashful to your face, so either way, don’t shirk, avoid, or walk on by. 
 please be in the least understanding. cause it will be a pleasure to meet you, and i can promise i’ve washed my hands. 
 —-

—-

i wish that i didn’t have regrets. i wish that i took the photos i meant to take when i saw them, and now i’m haunted by their nonexistence.

i wish that i stepped forward more often, approached more of those interesting strangers more often, said something, said anything.

didn’t want to infringe, ruin the already anxious commute, put someone out, or make someone uncomfortable in a public space.

it’s such a strange fine line though. whether to engage or respect people so much that you forgo any and all interaction of any kind. but this at times may prove a mistake.

if not you then it’ll be some other person, and they may not be so kind, or interesting, creative, honest, or brave. they might be the reason you don’t do something about a feeling which stems from a place of appreciation.

by you not saying or doing anything, you’re showing yourself that there is no shared experience, save a feeling of alienation and forced bubble of privacy. you’re helping to extend the notion that we are not all in this together.

and we are in this together. (we are all sort of weird already, but isn’t it a comfort to know that we are all weird together? i think so, and there’s a certain poetry in that.)

i wish that i didn’t have regrets, and in the near future, you just might meet me out in the world being slightly bold or bashful to your face, so either way, don’t shirk, avoid, or walk on by.

please be in the least understanding. cause it will be a pleasure to meet you, and i can promise i’ve washed my hands.

—-

—-

a very happy birthday to my good good peeps leola.

this year i believe shall prove a great year for broad strokes, creative adjustment, raucous laughter, delicious meals, dreams fulfilled, and a nigh ceaseless onslaught of lovely moments. very much glad to know you and that you were born’d.

ps - disco bowling still a top shelf idea for a bday party, thanks!

—-

—-

winterstorm hercules and the expected 10 inches of snowfall looming in the forefront of people’s minds. the trains are full and everyone looks a mixture of gloom and uncertainty.

i remain unworried and unfettered.

when i exit the station on the brooklyn side, i see the light coming out from the small tailor’s shop and just beeline towards it. a single man is cobbling a pair of shoes, and passersby quickly shuffle along the sidewalk.

looking up and into the night, sugary crystals float on invisible winds, swirling and lilting while the elation in my chest expands.

—-

—-

delights and revelry for the time being. allowing yourself the time however brief, to experience a slice of the infinite. all around are songs, public celebration, hope spreading, laughter and dancing, beauty in the cold night.

we find ourselves once again at the beginning of a cycle. this linear and ceaseless existence never fails to deliver the gift of memory, moments, opportunities, and random observations.

i wish to all the very best of luck this year, and hope that this new year’s day marks the beginning of you getting out there and facing fears, adversity, complacency, doubt, and the horrors of previously concrete self-definition.

it’s going to be an interesting time.

—-

—-

epic gathering happened last night after my work holiday shindig.

karaoke night AKA boner jams: XXXmas edition AKA supportive group therapy AKA lonely hearts burger club, AKA my 2 dads slow jams by the fireplace self help seminar

we went pretty hard, and by 2am, my eyes and motor skillz amplified and honed, fueled by the magic of delicious frosty korean beers, and a monster cylinder of asahi.

good times.

—-

—-

traveling by way of public transportation, i made my way over the east river to jersey city. it is my friend’s birthday party.

those moments after getting off the PATH train and into the cool night, you realize how much quieter and serene this part of new jersey is. almost too quiet, but never feeling menacing, the enclosing black shapes all sorts of beautiful angles and shapes.

you can see why people who can afford it, would move to such a place; lovely riverside walks, great view of manhattan from the side, picturesque, almost noble in its visual sumptuousness.

i left with a friend with a car, and as we went through the holland tunnel, i could still feel the alluring remnants of those caressing waters upon night shores.

—-