Yesterday (Thoughts)

Yesterday. Yesterday I was feeling somber. Today, today I am also feeling somber. Someone I knew, you could call a long-past friend, was facing a great pain and I was torn. They would feel that great pain tomorrow, today, I don’t know for how long. Yesterday I said hello to an old friend -current acquaintance- funny how things turn out. She was doing so well, happy with her life and how it was moving. Hearing of her life, though it was condensed in just a handful of words, wrought me a moment of joy.  The previously mentioned person, my long-past friend, had caused her great pain not to long ago. It feels as if it was a long time but it wasn’t. What is a long time?
   
On the surface yesterday could be perceived as a textbook example of our westernized and bastardized ideal of “Karma.” Things come back to you, it is only fair. The ones who cause pain should be forced to feel pain, isn’t that how it should be? Yet I felt hollow inside. Yesterday wasn’t a victory against human evil, it was a victory for human pain. On some level I know the pain he is going through, and on another level I don’t. Sure, the similarities are there, but the context is different, the people are different, the histories are different. All I know is that pain is the universal equalizer. What he is feeling yesterday, today, tomorrow, isn’t fair, it isn’t fucking retribution, it is the antithesis of retribution. We often forget, when living in out social microcosms, that pain permeates throughout social connections. To find cosmic justification within a painful event through the past actions of one person, the only one you know to be directly affected, is monstrous, dimwitted and self serving. As such, to a long-past friend, I am sorry for your loss. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone, not a soul. Pain, it nullifies us all, if for one heart wrenching moment; that body laying in the ICU.
   
So how do we find retribution? Remember that old friend, current acquaintance? She is happy now, enjoying her life and the path she has taken. Her happiness, not her ill will, is the proper retribution. I doubt she has forgotten the pain she felt under his influence, my long-past friend, nor do I know or care if she has forgiven him, but she has let the pain slip from her life, it no longer controls her as it once did. It may not taste as sweet as the revenge we often see in movies, and it very much doesn’t feel “fair” as when pain begets pain, but the world isn’t fair, it isn’t ruled by cosmic balances and cyclical patterns. The only balance we can create (find?) is within ourselves, to search for such balance within the external world would be foolhardy, to ask for comfort in something beyond our control. As a side note let me ask, which one of us truly want such control? To mould the world around us to fit our preconceived notions of balance? I for one believe that to have such control would pollute and corrupt not only my mind and soul but the black beauty which makes the world so appealing (appalling?).

So, to my old friend -current acquaintance - thank you for showing me in a short period of time, the balance found within yourself. I am sure you have shown it before, but I failed to see, and for that I am sorry. I am proud of you, what you have accomplished, and what you will accomplish. To my long-past friend thank you for showing me the humanity that exists within us all. Perhaps because I didn’t give you the chance -perhaps you didn’t deserve that chance- I didn’t get to witness such humanity under more ideal circumstances and for that I am sorry, but know that your pain, as harsh and un-wielding it is, will not beget pleasure from me, nor pain. It begets sympathy, and has taught me a little a-bit about myself.

A Conversation (Part 3)

You’re a little faggot sometimes you know that” he said with a smirk, “You even smile like a faggot too! Stop smiling faggot!!” A knowing twinkle reflected in his eyes.
    “Shut the fuck up you Oedipus!”
    “Oh hi-yo smart - educated fucker, using mighty big words and really old references. What does that remind me of … ? Oh yeah! That you are a little faggot!” the smile widened, the master teaser knows when he is playing the game right, laying down the foundation.
    “I’m a proud faggot. The most wonderfully faggoty faggot you will ever meet, the queen of faggots you could say!”
    “A natural rebuttal my dear queen faggot, a natural rebuttal.” He was letting my off easy today, how sweet. “Anyways ma-, opps, I mean queen faggot, how is life treating you? Gotten laid recently? Get the wick wet?! Feed some ducks?”
    “Oh of course not my Oedipus-like friend, I’ve been busy with this and that. You know how it goes.”
    “I do, I do. Sucking a lot of cock eh?”
    “You could say that” I responded with a chuckle, “You could say that.”
    “I’m not surprised, not one bit.”
    “I know you’re not. So how is the miss’s?”
    “The miss’s is missed but that is to be expected. When they leave the kitchen the natural habitat of the home is thrown into disarray as could be expected” We both chucked yet only one of us laughed.
    “I hear you man, a huge void is felt . So what brought you to my part of the world? It is a long ways away from your quiet life back home.”
    “I needed some help I guess man, queen faggot, and I need some advice.”
    “Advice from me!? Now that is something to behold, you, the great dragon slayer is asking for MY advice, why, I must put this down on tape or no soul will believe me!”
    “hohahahaha” he laughed without mirth “Oh how funny. You know why, I think you’re smart, you give good advice, it ain’t your fault people are so bad at taking or following advice. be forgiving you faggot.” He loved the word, he spit it out with a venom so grotesque it felt endearing. Perhaps it was.
    “Okay, so what do you need advice on?” He kept smiling.
    “Well let me at least wine and dine you before I take part in your services.”
    “Fine fine, where do you want to go eat?”
    “I thought you would make me something to eat, you where already cooking from what I can see.” The smile creeped deep into his eyes, his very soul.
    “Very well my dear friend.”
    “So what are you making by the way?”
    “I am making a mediterranean salad with orzo, and I believe I will also be making risotto, so a lot of carbs, you’ll like it.”
    “Sounds kinda faggoty to me, but it also sounds really good. How long till it is done?”
    “However long it’ll take for you to bring me up to speed and to dispense my advice.”
    “Perfect.” 

A Good Joke (A Poem)

A Good Joke

It didn’t take long to get the card
It had Santa giving head to his reindeer
I laughed, it was so meaningless

I didn’t know the name on the front
You always like to live as someone else
The mail only cares that I am here

Sure there is a sad story to be told
We’ve been through pain, we’ve broke
Yet today I am happy to enjoy a good joke

A good joke, that was what I am today
I am everything, a good joke to you
And laugh we will, laugh till tomorrow

It didn’t take long to get the card
The letter inside was sweet and sad
We don’t need to talk about that though

We just need a good joke.

Girl With Two Syllable Name (A Poem)

Girl With Two Syllable Name

I smoke when I'm sad

Fall into a nicotine sleep

My mouth so dry

Laying down, I'm dizzy

Life, it won't always find a way

A way free from the path 

I think I may love you

But I won't know till you let me in

Fighting for a path inside

You will always be sad

L3ogical double bind, can't crack

Don't change how I feel

Your two syllable name

Kind eyes behind sad design

I can't always save

I can't always save

Two syllables to her name

I won't always save

Two Syllables to her name

I want to save 

Two syllables to her name 

I try to save 

Two syllables to her name

Girl With Two Syllable Name

A Conversation (Part 2)

He sat quietly as he sipped on his cup of coffee staring past the figure in the booth across from him. "ever listened to Simple Twist of Fate?" The way he spoke was a tad harsh but he said fate with a gentleness, the "F" being but hinted at. 

"By who?"

"Bob Dylan"

"No, I can't say I have." 

"People tell me it's a sin…" He paused for a moment " … to know and feel too much within." 

"What's that?" 

"It's a lyric to the song."

"What Song?" 

"Simple Twist of Fate." he didn't mind repeating himself. 

"Oh, yeah. That song you just talked about. I feel stupid."

"Don't. My my mind is meandering. Just focused on that."

"Why?"

"I can't say."

"Okay."

He raised the coffee once again, it was a little cooler, easier to drink. The harsh sips which often annoyed his company had become more gentle, very much like his "F" in his rendition of "fate." 

"Do you believe in fate?"

"Well that is a tough question."

"No it's not, you either believe in fate or you don't. I'm not asking on your opinion of it, just wether or not it exists." 

"I don't know." 

"How can you not know what you believe in? You either do or you don't. Which is it?"

"I guess I don't." 

"Why?" 

"Can I say that that is a tough question?"

"Yeah, you can. Will you still try to answer?" 

"I think I will." 

Okay. so?"

"I just don't think we are important enough for a concept like fate. That something is controlling all of us."

"I see. Do you want it to exist?"

"Want what to exist?"

"Fate."

"Oh. I don't know. Probably not."

"Why not?"

"I guess I just don't think we are important enough for a concept like fate." 

"I like fate, it makes me feel a little better." 

"Why?" 

"I guess because I believe we aren't important enough for fate, but I sure like the idea that we are, I like it a lot." 

 

It Don't Mean Much (A Poem)

It Don't Mean Much

I know it don't mean much but I'm sorry

I'm sorry for the mistakes I've made 

and the words I threw

I know it don't mean, 

It don't mean much.

I know it won't mean much but I care 

I care even though I fail to show 

With my actions in lieu

I know it don't mean, 

It don't mean much 

What I'm saying is that I think I know 

I know even through I fail to say

To say what's on my mind 

I know it don't mean, 

It don't mean much 

It don't mean much when you have nothing to say

it don't mean much when you have nothing to show 

It don't mean much when you have nothing to prove 

It don't mean much, as such

A Conversation (Part 1)

"Two pints please," was followed by a two fingered tap unto the hard mahogany table, each fingertip on his left hand was calloused while the knuckles where dry, crusted and worn. . "So man, how is life?"

"I can't complain, even if I did no one would listen right?" A small chuckle followed from tight lips. The upper lip was a little tighter on the left side of his mouth. 

"I guess your right. Anyways, tell me about work, was it good?" 

"You know. It is decent enough. I don't really get to do much but that is okay. I sometimes get to do other stuff, personal stuff you know? It is pretty decent I suppose."

"I hear you man, I hear you. It is one of those things, you just gotta put in the hours, get the things they want done and just move on. I'm finding it works okay. Can't complain with the pay check right!?" light laughter followed from a hard face broken by a mirthful grin. 

"No I guess you can't. Tell me, how long have you worked at your current job?" As he spoke his well worn but expensive shoes lightly tapped the ground in a rhythmic pattern, steady as a bass drum. 

"Oh man, its been a while now. 10 months I guess? Wow almost a year. Yeah almost a year I guess. Time sure flies don't it?" 

"Yeah it sure does." Brown hair flicked from covered grey eyes. The skin just beneath his eyes where a shade darker while the wrinkles just above his eyes where deeper, losing nuance a short time ago.

"How is the new job? I heard about it on Facebook or something. Congrats by the way, you deserve the position." That mirthful smile broke free, the lines around the mouth feeling well worn and deserved, lines only created through constant repetitiveness. 

"It is the job I deserved." The lines around his mouth existed just above the surface. His leg stopped moving for a moment. It started up again but was slower, not as precious. 

"Well that is all we can ask for eh? The things we deserve. Maybe not even that I would think. It has been too long since we've seen each other last. We have so much catching up to do, so much so I don't know what to say next. How Weird is that? One day we are talking up a storm and not long after we are sitting silently unsure on what to say when there is so much to say." Brown eyes retracted slowly, eyebrows climbed down the hillside of his forehead and his shoulders lowered ever so slightly. "You know what I mean?" 

"I do. I guess it says a lot about how we've changed and not changed." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I don't know. I'm just filling in space I suppose." His grey eyes focused quickly on some object in the far off distance, closing ever so slightly to block out the excess light. 

"Always the overly honest type" words better understood with a wink, "I've always liked that about you, straight to the point." 

"I know." 

"What do you like most about me?" 

"You're a mound type person." He stopped, his grey eyes floating while his leg stopped. He nodded.