Kiss Me

Last night I was flipping through channels looking for something to entertain me while I became sleepy.  She's All That was playing.  I hadn't see it since 1999 when it was released and I went to the theater with Lanny to see it.  I forgot that one of the lead character's was also named Laney.  The jeep.  The California coast.  The two different worlds trying to connect; crashing, crying & combining.  Then there's that moment when the Sixpence None The Richer song comes creeping and I remember how innocent we were back then.

Interpretations

Something like a year passes and the message that gets emphasized is how unimportant you are and how much more important are the other things of life. 

Or...how absolutely unable one is to comprehend, or how unable they are to do anything about it. 

In end ...  I guess it's all about interpretations.

Brown Hazel Green

My eyes have been green all weekend.  I think it started on Thursday night when I was at Brandon's graduation from sheriff cadet training.  It was the second time I had the opportunity to spend with "Granny," his grandmother.  She is such a riot to me.  The words that come out of her mouth I could hear them coming out of my own later in life. It is very touching to me that I was asked to attend the graduation.  While the ceremony was much like any commencement --not able to move along fast enough--there was one point when the Sheriff was speaking about the responsibilities that come along with becoming deputies.  Integrity.  Honor.  The keys to positions of authority and why we as a society do or don't trust them. 

I noticed my green eyes yesterday while Joseph and I were in one of our uniquely calibrated wavelengths together.  We were listening to music, singing, dancing, acting out.  At one point the girls came out and joined us to dance.  I looked in the mirror and was surprised to see my eyes this color because usually I only notice the color change in the mirror after I cry but I hadn't cried.  I made a remark to Joseph and carried on with our fun.

The color is the same... but I had my cry tonight so no real surprise. 

"If you keep building these walls
Brick by brick towers so tall
Soon I won't see you at all
Until the concrete angel falls"
-Gareth Emery ft. Christina Novelli

The Ties That Bind

Simultaneous beauty & tragedy; being an emotionally unencumbered observer to one's relationship that has all the obvious signs of being past its expiration date, but also the genuine glimpses of true tenderness which is the love that won't let them let go.

Random Truths

While it certainly feels painful and doesn't look pretty, I find that crying myself to sleep is often the most restful sleep I get.

This LV Thing

The trek to Sin City has usually been one that is made with friends.   It feels somewhat stark without the bellowing laughter conjured from Cardwell's companionship. 

Once here... The time spent out with Nate brings out a natural spontaneous part of me.   It is the part of me I seem not able to reach on my own. Tonight I'm riding a wave of endorphins I have not tapped into much lately.

Dark Lightnesses

The shadow of a pup projected on the wall appears to be a lion encroaching. Only by looking into the shadowy things do we see the truth we so often tip toe around.

EXTRA credit assignments

I see the picture on my language textbook and I realize now--a month later--what a fellow students remarked to me. Today, my head is not in the game. My three dearest friends in the whole world are all not themselves. I am not thinking about---let alone studying for this oral presentation I have to do in 40min. I am typing this rather than cramming.

Priorities.
People first.

Decidedly

Somewhere along "the line," I decided that to understand certain lives I would have to live them. At some point my ensuing decisions will be to continue living them and my own, go back to the life was I was living or incorporate them into one moving forward. Always forward, regardless of vision.

Breathtaking Brushstrokes

Of all the random, chance meetings over the years with men, boys, men who were boys and boys who thought they were men, this canvass that is my soul searching to share love, continues as a collaborative art endeavor. Some have added single, strident brushstrokes. Some strokes were structurally sustained over time. Some have passed so sensuously silent that their brush barely seemed to leave any tangible contact. Then I blink, or step back; maybe tilt my head a slightly different angle and glimpse how indelible that brush becomes in the collective combination of chaotic creativity. Varied perspectives shine and shade to provide different punctuations to this art piece. It has become a mosaic mural. Mine. I see bright smiles; haphazard, splattered gushes of pain; a labyrinth of langour, laudable lessons from lies; lunar landscapes where leaps of faith leveled the daily daunting mediocrity. As this art strives to become a masterpiece, I see so much love searching for sovereignty over sadistic silliness. I see a boy who has become a man...and the man whose soul will always cherish the boy who longs to love.