Like Sand

J:“Cupcake sammich” is totally on the track list now.

Z: Yeah but toward the bottom…
because eh, cupcakes.

J: It’s basically just humming “Big Rock Candy Mountain” forgetting the words and then yelling “cupcake sammich” until you no longer can.

Z: And like that, it is saved.
Well done.

J: Do I know how to run a band or what?

Z: Apparently so

J: Damn right.
You writing this down boy?
I’m an idea man not a ‘memorable…

Z: Wait, I’m supposed to be remembering stuff?
hoo boy

J: Pffft.
Wat I pay you for?

Z: To look pretty and take your abuse, Sir.

J: Damnit it boy, don’t you sass me.


Words Defined: Blloportepikh

1. The traditional method of turnip-stunning, involving using the turnip’s own offspring.

2. Also used as a greeting upon meeting someone you haven’t seen in so long that you cannot recall if you hate them or not.

The Fear of Tears

I’ve been doing some thinking lately.
I’ve had the time and it’s nice to know that my brain still works for me even if it now takes longer to coalesce and articulate things in the way that I would like.

Long story short, I’m been trying to cut out my hate.
I’ve cradled it for years like an ember and then it became a flame.
But this fire offers no warmth. It merely burns.

So why build it? Because salt water is cold and worth mocking.

Tears are ingrained cultural mark of weakness that must be cut out and shunned. Because tears are my honest reaction to livid anger. Which to many, looks like they’ve won whatever point they were on about, because now I’ve become too ‘blubbery’ to retort.

Why is this my reaction?
There are a number of theories but these two stand out.
-I’m an emotional lighting rod, when stuck everything goes to ground.
-I have a fear of hurting people. Mentally or physically. I’ve done both before and know that I could again.

But if I can fan anger to hate, the tears don’t come and the ‘tough guy’ veneer will remain.
Emotions are weaknesses.
Emotions are for girls.
Girls are weak.
“Girl” is an insult.
Don’t be a girl.

Therein lies the first brick of misogyny, self-loathing and why so many of us are too broken to cry.
Our first bullies, are the adults in our lives who use these sentiments and others like them.  Sometimes without thinking, but all too often as a way to motivate or correct through society sanctioned ‘abuse’. So we cut off parts of ourselves to conform, until we’re too calloused to realize that everyone still bleeds & it becomes accepted and internalized and there’s hardly a second thought to the fact that once we’re grown we have the power to break this cycle.
Because hate is just what adults do.
This is why it’s so especially rampant among those eager to prove that they’re grown.

Flaunting hate doesn’t prove anything other then your inclination to take the easy way out. It’s the equivalent of trying to win an argument by shouting “Na-uh” as loud as you can instead using that time to think and to listen.
I knew this when I was younger and it’s taken me 15 years to find this truth again.
I hope I won’t forget and that your journey doesn’t take as long.

Impulse #3458349

I want to counter protest abortion clinics.
I don’t know if I’d make a sign or anything but just to stand among the yelling anger and acknowledge the strength of personality it takes to even walk head held high through that kind of clouded mess.

Maybe give them five dollars or something…

Any better ideas?


Find me.
There’s this animal staring at me, my mouth.
I don’t think it’s dangerous. More like, annoying.
I want to run and create a hard impact into a permanent fixture.
It’s gotten into my head this way.
Leave my mark on something dark, and wet, and glistening, and maybe red?
I speak for me, “I fell down some stairs” I . . .

Sorry, it just sneezed and I couldn’t speak when it blinked.
I don’t want to hurt it. Who does it belong to?
Even flies and moths can fly away until they’re SMASHED thoughtlessly.
Who owns you?
Come find it.

What Do You Want?

People don’t get into children’s culture enough. You know, cartoons, children’s books, learning channels and so forth…

Remember that wide eyed enjoyment of art or animation, how the lines and characters looked off but so colorful and right? Encouraging you to just start staring at people. Real people trying to figure it, figure them out. Do you remember?

I do.
There was nothing wrong with a purely innocent curiosity in people in general. There still isn’t.
Or how people would come up to you and tell you how cute you were? People you didn’t even know. Does anyone do this any more? If you started now, the person in question would most likely tell you to “fuck off.” Or avoid confrontation altogether. If someone did respond by telling you how cute you were, most people would assume that this person wanted something from them(most likely sexual in nature).

Connect with strangers, even if it’s just a moment of eye contact.
Especially the ones wearing sunglasses, refuse to let them shut us out!
No contempt, no self righteousness.
Just a look of happy curiosity in them as a person, not an object, or a subject.
Just as a person, a simple look one that says, “Hi, have you looked up lately? There’s a sky there. Neat, huh?”