A Love Story: Part One

loved ones lost to the tuna-fisher's net,
home polluted by wasteful creatures of no regret
alone and doubting, i could do nothing but fret
until, kind eyes and patches, we met.

i understand, my savannah's been burned
my livelihood spurned
despair and spite often adjourned
but with you here, my luck's been incredibly turned!

Earth D'eh / Death of Beauty

It's Earth Day. I should be excited. Excited that I can make a difference, that there's as much beauty left on this planet as there is, that I'm alive.

I'm not. I'm too lost in the collective labyrinth of apathy, comfortability, and selfishness. I say I want to do something but I don't. I say all I want for my life is to make a difference, and sometimes I make little mini-efforts and succeed in very small and finite moments, but I don't do anything lasting.

Tomorrow's two weeks since the end of my relationship with the most uniquely amazing girl I've ever met. It was a deep, beautiful, and incredible one, and its death was not close to being my choice. Her reasons were understandable and perhaps I'll come to see that it was for the best, but that doesn't quell the immense disconnect in my broken heart. Thoughts of her fill nearly every moment of thought that I have. I can't stop remembering all the dreams and touches and words. Who knows how long until I'm able to let go...

Joy and Sorrow

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain." -Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

I hope its true, because sorrow is carving into my being.

Blood

The more you've given, the harder the end hurts.

I drew these bars.

I am caged by my own assumptions. I fail to act on my dreams because i believe the very things i profess to throw away. I accept the the things that hold me back. Entertain them, even. And it's so subconscious, it's so sneaky, it's such a worm. Why do I do the things I do?

THE VOICES. THEY TELL ME. And I listen, but why? Fuck.

I need to be alright with my brokenness. I need to find oneness with something better and rise on its wings, because mine don't work.

The flood, the voices, they halt the unity. Soul flying is all I want, but how can I fly with this fog of everything that's been told me, everything around me, everything in me. I hate how so much of who I am is formed by things not under my control. Control. Why do I need control? Why am I always struggling to be right, to look good, to feel superlative?

I must find the way to be at peace with myself, to feel oneness truly, to wear the sunset instead of just look at it. There's so many things that I want that I'm not willing to put in the effort to find. Or I'm being held back by invisible forces on my subconscious, or maybe I'm really OK and this is all just a painful process...