One Hundred Eighty-Five

I see you--the glow from your phone lighting the dark hollow space beneath the comforter. You look like a general plotting a brilliant campaign against a most formidable army, but do me a favor, hunh? When you plan your attack, count me in as an ally and not an adversary--I've already sworn allegiance to your love.

One Hundred Eighty-Four

this is this

One Hundred Eighty-Three

I'm worried about you.

One Hundred Eighty-Two

What happened to this day? How the Hell did it get to be thursday when wednesday was untended to? Did you take it, remove the day from my memory? I went to sleep tuesday night--I was sure of it, and I thought I saw you standing against the window on wednesday, but now its 3:47 on thursday afternoon and I've lost a whole day---fuck

One Hundred Eighty-One

Holding the place for what, another short blog about connection, or, lack of? It's always the same, it's okay, it's not okay. One day they're on, the next they're off. It's all about the trust really and I'll tell you, right about now I'm telling whatever powers that control love that I've learned my lesson. I get it. Without trust there is nothing.

One Hundred Eighty

I don't know where I've been or what I've done. Too much life is crammed inside my head, and without some sort of drain, I'll never be able to get to the memories that lie along the bottom of my experience.

One Hundred Seventy-Nine

I'm looking forward to seeing you. I won't cause any problems, or do you any harm--as if I ever would. I just want to hold your hand and walk near the shore of the bay. My goal, is to listen--asking questions where I don't understand, but mainly just listen. I want your voice Kate, I want the notes of your words so I can place them like bread crumbs along my daily path--pictures of sounds stashed along the road of my meditation. I know it seems crazy, but when you really love someone, you can do anything, and I do really love you.

One Hundred Seventy-Eight

Its 9:20 and I'm lying down to sleep. It's 9:21 and I have no idea where you are. You miss me when your alone, but when you're not, you don't. It's simple math and simple time, 9 twenty or twenty-one, either way you're not mine.

One Hundred Seventy-Seven

I don't know what you're doing. Am I in a holding pattern--waiting for you to either land or crash into the controlling tower, or am I wrapped like 30,000 ft sunshine in your wings? What the fuck is going on? I'm sad, and I'm confused, I'm crying and I'm scared to breathe, but the crazy thing about it is...I have the world perched on my fingertips and I've never been better.

One Hundred Seventy-Six

I remember this being a good day until I got a job. Don't get me wrong, I needed the money, and I had to get on a plane sometime, but this came out of a clear blue sky. I cried, and I searched for help, I had to go, but I was terrified, and luckily no help came--my girl was kind, as always when I'm with her, but she couldn't hold my hand when I went, so it was just me. I knew I had to suck it up and get onboard. I did.

One Hundred Seventy-Five

If I would've had a butterfly net last night, I could have done the work of a thousand lepidopterists just by sweeping the net across my stomach--the wings of all the butterflies in the world fluttered at once in me and took flight. You are beautiful Kate--stunning, outrageous, and without compare. You are the rarest of all creatures in the world, and I count myself among the most fortunate--not only by getting to witness your existence, but by being blessed with your love.

One Hundred Seventy-Four

My heart is a coward that refuses to walk down the street that you live on.

One Hundred Seventy-Three

I was awakened violently from sleep--I was running, crying, and begging for your safety. The dreams are back--great visionary sweeps of a world in which you and I don't exist--a world without hope for a future and without love for today. And, why wouldn't they return? You turn your back to me when we lay in bed and I wait "Come on sweetheart push back in to me--come on, come on." I run this through my mind over and over, but you don't retreat towards me. So I reach out--giving you gentle welcoming strokes on your back urging you to connect with me, but nothing. "I have a problem" you say, "and you gave it to me You're a walking petri dish of bacteria." "Okay sweetheart, I get it--I'm old, I'm festering, and I'm no longer attractive to you". I lay back beside you on the bed--they'll come again these dreams, and after this 5 am blog i'll understand them a bit better, and maybe welcome them instead.

One Hundred Seventy-Two

You said something the other day that made me wonder, you said, "You used to take pictures of me, and now you don't." Fuck, that cuts me darling, but not in the way you might think, and sometimes I wonder if you really understand what you mean to me. Yes I did, I used to take lots of pictures of you and I'd also sit and stare at you for hours as you slept. So what happened, when did it change, when did I go from spending hours staring at the form and image of a woman I was going to marry, to the painful process of trying not to look at the woman that isn't sure if I'm still in her plans?

One Hundred Seventy-One

How many of these fucking blogs start with ouch. joirfjoi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ewjfp9iquhgu fqnipuqnfpiubaiuyebfywiEBIUJ09N98YR98????????HUYFBWEUYVQTCRXSVYUBINMLPSWX??????????EWOYUCGG 8UHIUOH fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One Hundred Seventy

There are many times that I've lit up a dark winters room--a bright blast of unstopable energy bursting like afternoon sunshine through an open summer window. I've given talks that have made tears stop and reverse their way up a sad alcoholic's face--talks that pulled the edges of his lips up and into a smile as the pain retreated back into the brightening darkness of his eyes. I've brought hope to the helpless, and help to the hopeless. I've been strong and giving, but with you, all I've ever brought of late is a pain in the ass, a fucking wet jealous blanket that would rather smother your day with questions about who and why, then he would to just lay back and listen to the birds song of your voice. I'm tired of it. I'm sick of bringing you down--catering to the insecure boy that resides in my ego. I want to be your safe place, a light to you--a strong comforting lantern on a lost at sea evening. I want to, I really do, and if you want it bad enough, I hear anyone can do it. I know I can. I really know I can. All I ever want to be from now on, is a love to you...

One Hundred Sixty-Nine

Do you think I'm strange, how I fight to hold on to you, kicking and screaming against my hearts own will to survive? It must seem crazy--the endurance of such pain, for so few results. And I wonder if you're the one trying to shake me loose--secretly biting my knuckles as I hang on to the safety bar of our relationship? I love you. Is that so wrong? People do crazy shit for love all the time. But maybe one day you'll tell me the truth--help me with my madness, you'll sit me down and move close--knee to knee, and then, you'll either say "Baby, thank you for the fight. Thank you for believing I'm worth the struggle. I'm sorry it's been so hard on you, but it's okay now, and I'll repay you by honoring and loving you until the last of your days." or else, you'll take my hand, and over tear stained cheeks, you'll tell me "Jack, I'm sorry that I lied to you. This isn't for me, this love you seek. I need you to let me go, leave me be, and please just drift away."

One Hundred Sixty-Eight

Do you know what it is, the truth? You've accused me of not delivering it, but when I give it to you, it sits ignored on your doorstep like an orphaned child. And you, as far as I can tell, are still incapable of being honest with the one person that matters most--yourself.

One Hundred Sixty-Seven

It never was you, the problem, it was always me. I'm loved by people all over the world--a hundred different languages used to express their joy of my existence, and it means nothing. Sure, I can laugh and boldly boast that "I'm the man," but if you shake a stick at my words, the black crow of disbelief flies from my mouth--I used to tell you that as long as you hated yourself, you could never believe I loved you, for after all, who could love you, right? Well, let me tell you something little Katie; how could I ever believe that you loved me, and that you were mine, when I never thought I deserved you.

One Hundred Sixty-Six

Either way it was me. I fucked up. When you acted, I had neither the strength, or the knowledge, to deal with it properly, and it was much easier to blame someone else, than to look at myself and say, "I destroyed this."

One Hundred Sixty-Five

In the space of us together there is no lie, there is truth and beauty in our touch, however, in the echo of our existence there is only night and deceit--I can't be sure you're really mine, or, really you.

One Hundred Sixty-Four

So, it all comes down to this--"Hey did you?" "No, how could you think such a thing, I would never." "Well, what about this email?" "Oh, Yeah, I guess I did."

One Hundred Sixty-Three.Five

Okay, so maybe I spoke too soon, I'm not the man I thought I was. I hate having emotions--being afraid, jealous, and angry. Where the fuck is my resolve, my strength, my ability to be like marble--cold and distant? I'm a loner--an outsider sitting on the backyard fence of society. I don't want to be connected. I don't want to hurt anymore.

One Hundred Sixty-Three

Today I saw myself as someone that could really do it--a man whose strength didn't stand in the way of his ability to be weak. Today I saw myself as someone worthy of your love, and I'm no longer worried about you not being able to see it.

One Hundred Sixty-Two

While walking through a jungle I came upon a butterfly of unusual proportions. She was as tall as a young woman--wild in thought, sexual, sensationalistic, and with a fatal cool that dusted her wings like an eclipse at night.

One Hundred Sixty-One.Five

Wow,finally a relationship built on love, trust, and...oh no, wait a minute, you're sick? You're contagious? For how long? Okay, well, I guess I'll just grab my things and head to a party...ciao baby!

On a side note...Fuck You

One Hundred Sixty-One

I know you're not 'mine' even though we claim a committed relationship. You are only on loan to me and my loan agreement states that: I must be loving, kind, understanding, faithful, and unselfish, or else you will return to the shop. It also states that you have the right to terminate our agreement at any time, for any reason, according to your desires; and I will receive no refund for my troubles. Could you imagine launching into any other enterprise or agreement with such stipulations? Oh well, lover beware.

One Hundred Sixty

I can be your age--in both mind, and body--I know I can. The years between us are nothing really, just a concept of space painted in linear fashion on a blank map. All we are, and all we ever will, be are our thoughts. So, if I see myself as a young man in your arms, then that's what i'll be--forever. It's not hard really, I just have to suspend reality and repaint time. I'm sure it has been done before.

One Hundred Fifty-Nine

"I only want the best for you and if that means not having me..." This sounds crazy doesn't it? Yeah, you would think so, because you're a selfish prick and you don't know what it's like to love a girl so much that you'd walk away from her so she could have better.

One Hundred Fifty-Eight

You say you trust me--and at times you do act as such, but then, at other times you question the slightest of my actions. Do I look like someone you can't trust? Have I not been true to my word? I don't think it helps you, when you ask for confirmation of my loyalty but I am yours, and will continue to be so until you say when.

One Hundred Fifty-Seven

We lay entwined in the branches of our love as an easy quiet peace paints the open space in our bedroom--

One Hundred Fifty-Six

There are thoughts residing in my mind that control my ability to achieve pleasure from intimacy. It's strange, the mental roads that make up the free ways of your desire. Have you ever wondered why certain caresses feel good, and why others invoke the pain of embarrassment or even the shock of abuse? It's all flesh, what should it matter what she does, or where she touches.

One Hundred Fifty-Five

Main Entry: AR·MI·STICE
Pronunciation: \ˈär-mə-stəs\
Function: noun
Etymology: French or New Latin; French, from New Latin armistitium, from Latin arma + -stitium (as in solstitium solstice)
Date: circa 1707
: temporary suspension of hostilities by agreement between the opponents :
I know its basically plagiarism without an author credit but what the fuck--I'm just glad the fighting's over--at least for now.

One Hundred Fifty-Four

You sit across the room from me--fifteen folding metal chairs and two felons sit between us, you're smiling though, a great big fuck-you smile that does nothing short of making you look like a clown. "A clown? Did you just call me a clown?" "No, I didn't just call you a clown. I said you looked like one, what with that evil bullshit smile you've got painted on your face."

One Hundred Fifty-Three

How many times a day are these going to happen--the collision of souls--throwing sparks and shadows? You're wearing me down, depleting me--an unnatural resource thats about to be all used up.