December 31: Flushed.

This week should be flushed, but things happen. Events have occurred that shouldn't be flushed, that are worth something. It isn't one person, one event, but more an event that was the trigger for something built up over time.

For some *thing*, for some emotion, for a bathtub of feelings, left running, and overflowing in its abundance. Flashes of brilliance amid the struggle, happiness amid the tears, warmth in the cold reality. Only Thursday, only 2/3 though, yet the week is full, my quota met. I can't handle much more, my breaking point passed at an earlier date.

The good though, has been great. Bonds strengthened, memories shared, ears cleaned, movies enjoyed, shots taken, the gamut run. The bad, overwhelming, tears shed, hearts broken, souls crushed, what more can one stand? A week, almost a summation of the year, ready to roll over into something new less than 24 hours forward.

----------

A year,
left as remains,
A foundation,
left solid,
A start,
left unfinished,
A new year,
left begun.

----------

friends, lovers,
questions, answers.
unknown, unscripted,
boundaries, walls.
broken, bruised,
wounds, scars unhealed.

December 28: Midnight Snack.

A spot o' dinner,
past the witching hour,
A bit o' activity,
past the holiday weekend,
A taste o' change,
past the normal tide,
A fall back,
past calls, future looms,
Who's answered?

----------

it isn't you,
it isn't me,
it isn't time,
it isn't right,
it isn't wrong,
it isn't, is it?

December 25: Presence.

It's more,
A presence,
Not just presents,
A gift,
Given on the most exalted day.
A heart, waning,
A heart, fumbling,
Lost, without passion,
Worried about pain.

----------

Every day,
Like Sunday,
Not normal,
Not gray.
The end, isn't here.
The beginning, not there.
The past yields
A beginning, an end,
A tale, untold,
A life, un-lived.

December 24: Twas the Night Before.

Twas the night before,
And I couldn't sleep,
I couldn't move, couldn't think.
My thoughts a tempest,
A place so foreign,
A process so unfamiliar.

----------

A definition,
A drink,
An explanation,
An answer.
A quick response,
A laugh, a smile,
Insecurities surface,
Strength drowns.

----------

A year of friendships, a night alone, not even a mouse stirring. A shift so drastic, a home made warm with memories. The faces, some similar, some new, passing through. A cup of cider, an ounce of whisky, a dose of reality. Prevention through caution, changes a cautious reach out, a hand smacked by reality as it nears the cookie jar. Happy, content, yet unsure, the path ahead dark, my feet unsure. Friends guide the way, provide strength, possess the light needed to ensure I don't get lost. Still I stray, still I turn, the bonds tested, the trust pushed, the breaking point passed.

December 22: Please Forgive Me.

What should I think?
I've had too much to drink,
As my mind and body collide.

----------

Platonic and accepting,
Unable to cross the boundary,
Passion without risk,
Pain without penalty,
A man, beaten,
The reason, unknown,
For his pain is without passion,
His hurt without hope.

----------

Platonic,
by default, accepted.
Sexual,
by nature, refused.
Logic,
as is,
a connection made,
a friendship defined.

December 17: High Tide.

A tide of emotions, a wave of feelings, a wall of protection. A moment, a chance, passed, left to dry. I've protected the heart, I hidden the love. I've mastered the platonic, I've extended the olive branch, I've learned to love again. The gates remain closed to more, high tide's strong currents kept at bay. I'm not the wounded crab, working through the wet sand, hoping high tide won't sweep me away. I've made that journey, keeping high tide at bay, willing myself to safety. I'm scared to go back out, to play on the beach, to build castles and dream. The threat of high tide, the worry of being set adrift, make my castle a friendly and warm haven.

December 17: Code Complete.

A random meet,
A random day,
A random chance,
It's randomly gray.
Perfectly aligned,
Perfectly pure,
It's perfectly sunny.

----------

Unknown,
in nature,
in definition.
Embraced,
encouraged,
entwined.

----------

A tide,
An ebb,
A flow.
A shift,
Wet, tear-dropped shores,
Dry, sun-kissed beaches.

----------

A milestone at work,
A day of infamy, a day etched in stone.
An error, a defect, a cascading mountain,
Things slipping, cutting, in flux,
A long afternoon, an endless week,
A night of sleep is never enough,
When work grinds away the free time,
Wears you down, spits you out,
Left complete, in ways you'll never be.

December 9: Cheated by the Net.

a tweet,
a status update,
a pop into my chat list,
a random packet of network data.
we've timed out,
the page doesn't load,
we've hit the 404-
unsure if we should refresh the page.

----------

Did I scare you?
Wasn't I honest?
Didn't I cut open a vein?
Let you watch me bleed,
Watch me squirm,
Didn't you see me at my most vulnerable?
Or did you not notice?
The thinly veiled wall,
The well-placed curtain,
The open nature, cleverly hidden,
Plainly seen, but overlooked.

----------

I'm not sorry for how I live my life, how I embrace passion and emotion, or how I ignore it and wall myself off. I'm only sorry for those caught as I transition, those pushed by my extremes, the ones whose faces I see behind a wall of tears and wonder where it went wrong. Those friends that chose a separate path, those with whom I only share tense moments, the deer caught in the headlights. The fear consuming, the inability to act, the inability to speak.

December 4: Darkness Descends.

A cloud of doubt,
A fog of weakness,
A tired mind,
left defenseless.
The hours tick by,
The charade continues,
The smile persists.

----------

A cold foot,
A warm smile,
A fond farewell.
A night snuggled,
With something small and stuffed,
A big bed,
room for rent.

December 3: Gruel.

a minute late,
a moment too soon,
a memory altered.

----------

Where's the line, what's the definition? Do we talk about it now, or let it ride, and just be coo'? The vast unknown ahead, the abyss of emotion, the flood of tears, the pit of emptiness. Do I fill it with tears? Do I fill it with memories? Do I fill it with empty experiences, faces without connections? Do I throw caution into the wind and just dance? Or do I take a careful step forward, my toes feeling the edge of the cliff, and decide to jump?

November 29: Solitude.

Some of the best nights are spent cuddled with Domo Kun on the couch watching a movie.

----------

Inclusion of another,
Their presence, their being,
An addition, an exception,
The solitude changed, the routine altered,
The cost analyzed, the worth questioned,
Stay, go, invite, exclude,
subtraction through addition.

November 29: Defined.

A random hi,
A chance meet,
A face,
No longer just part of the crowd.
A week,
A moment,
A blink,
Of an wary eye.

----------

friends,
family,
passersby.
time changes,
life moves,
feelings shift,
we remain.

----------

Whether a few moments, or the span of a decade,
the definition remains tumultuously friends.
Time can't rip those bonds,
life can't separate those brought together.
Like intricate clockwork, faces upon the gears,
each one vital, each one making something else go.
Our paths might separate, our memories might fade,
but our inner workings have assimilated the individual.

November 17: Fallen.

The tears cascaded,
From my face,
From my soul,
Off my cheeks,
They plunged,
Into the darkness,
Onto the rocks far below.
My soul bled out my eyes,
Off my cheeks,
It plunged,
Into the darkness,
The void, ever present,
On the rocks below.

----------

run away,
left behind,
a dark night,
cold, metal railings,
slippery concrete
a lone figure,
a chance, a future,
a difference,
chosen.

November 15: The More Things Change.

self aware,
self inflicted,
self betrayed,
self, abandoned.
by myself, alone,
inside myself, afraid,
away from myself, assured.

----------

The opening of a door,
the darkness of a room,
the fumbling footsteps,
the hand, reaching out,
feeling, grasping, yearning,
for what isn't there,
for what has left previously.

----------

A day forward,
A month backward,
A week of progress,
An hour of deprecation.
A minute of hope,
A year of change,
A second of life.

November 8: Exposed.

A night's walk through the neighborhood, around the block. Shared decisions, mutual choices, bags to carry. Warmth in a cup, piercing yet warm words rush forward. Concise, yet lengthy, their meaning condensed. Answers spew, like raindrops from an angry sky, falling upon kind ears, rushing forth as if afraid they'll be caught by a clamped jaw. Rushed out, the pain expelled before it can cut any further...

----------

cathartic
calming
cleansing.

----------

I sit exposed,
my clothes still on,
my heart ripped out,
what's inside expelled
through an open mouth.
an empty cup,
a loss of words,
an inner struggle,
trust, boundaries,
tested, questioned.
a morning, alone.

October 15: Offline.

**posted 11/6/09**

Waking up to the fresh snow on a crisp morning. New connections, familiar methods, discussions made and broken - over coffee, over the phone, over the Internet. Bags are packed, people disconnected, on the road, travels to be completed. A single car, two passengers, the towns grow smaller. The bars disappear from the screen of a tiny cell phone screen. Into the farmland, over the hills, into the woods. A dead end road, an unpaved, muddy driveway, a spinning wheel. The snow turns to rain, then turns back, indecisive. A new feeling emerges, then changes back, indecisive. A comfort within the simplicity, a warmth within the isolation, a peace in the middle of nowhere.

November 4: Chilly and Dark.

a week,
a month,
a year.
changes,
advances,
regression.
all within reason,
all within reach,
each one a little harder,
a little more painful.

----------

a jump,
a leap,
a step...
forward?
backward?
sideways?
blindly,
I act,
the best,
left to faith.

----------

a year is creeping up on me. a year of the single lifestyle. a year spent with many, not one. a year of change, of transition, of uncertainty. the security of one, gone. my life, changed, in so many ways... the path I'm on so unfamiliar, so strange. the nights are dark, the silence deafening, the emptiness eviscerating. familiar objects are foreign, each step blind, and my destination unknown.

November 1: Empty Nest.

a graveyard,
as a cake,
as a memory.
a friendship,
as a shoulder,
as a memory.
buried, yet fresh,
as a memory.

----------

an open door,
an open heart,
an open mind.
two-way streets,
two-ways, two sides.
one closes,
one remains.

October 29: Candles.

flickering flames,
light the night,
dance on the walls-
in shadow, they morph,
tiny reflections
my soul, my life,
dancing on the walls.

----------

the smile, the eyes,
the look, the vibe,
a touch, a glance,
emotion, racing
a chance, left untaken,
a night enjoyed.

----------

a cold evening,
an empty apartment,
a lonely tune,
a warmth from within.

October 27: Vacation Reflections.

years, experiences,
shared
places, lived.
distances, grow.
life expands,
time, stops,
reunited, reacquainted
ripped apart.
(10/21)

----------

the presence, the closeness,
the intimacy,
old friends new bonds,
new faces, uncertain steps.
a future unknown
a future embraced.
(10/24)

----------

thirteen days,
five states,
myriad people.
passing by,
riding along,
catching up.
(10/27)

----------

It's a bit surreal to be heading home. Almost two weeks ago, I struck out, determined to let things settle, looking forward at the people I was visiting. I never thought the trip one of clarity, but more an escape. Old bonds, family, friends revisited, me just hoping to stay sane. Just hoping it went well. Now? I don't think it could have gone better. Family: reunited. Friends: redefined. Transition is always hard, especially for those not dealing directly with it. Our friends, our families, they suffer since they don't get the whole story. They get pieces, and are often left sorting it out themselves. Rarely does the chance like mine arise, where I can go and explain in person, help explain, help reshape the relationships. This trip has been very grounding, laying and solidifying the foundations I have built with those in my life. Some legs of the journey weren't easy. Others unexpected, but I enjoyed every day of it. As we slowly descend into SeaTac,I'm content. I'm truly thankful for those in my life. As I move forward with life in Seattle, this content and grounded feeling will guide me, will assist me, will propel me.

October 22: Chicago.

a sea of faces,
an attractive smile.
social overload,
a dark room.
refreshed cleaning,
an early morning,
biking and brunch.
longing, lonely,
homesick.

----------

close friends,
distant family,
visited, seen, reunited.
new faces,
weak bonds,
low investments,
high returns,
valuable experiences.

October 10: One dollar.

I've cried myself to sleep two nights this week. Not sobbing, gut-wrenching events, but silent, lonely tears falling on the pillow as I snuggle with Domo. In fact, every night this week has been a influx of emotion, barely contained, and rarely silenced. It's been a departure from the more carefree month that ushered in my unemployment.

It's been a departure from my new norm in so many ways, and I'm still trying to right the ship and praying for a patch of smooth sailing. Vacation and a whole host of unknowns are ahead though. I'm really trying to concentrate on enjoying the vacation, on not letting every dollar spent seem like another piece of my potential livelihood being spent. Those thoughts breakdown like this:

That dollar? It could have been part of January's rent. That dinner out? Half of the power bill.

It's really difficult to break from that rather destructive thought pattern. I'm sure some financial types would applaud it, but fuck, one has to enjoy themselves at times. It's great I'm able to live and function without a job at the moment, and some of that is because I have been such a bitch to myself budget-wise, but it's making one cranky rat.

Aside from that, my heart decided to release it's self from whatever inner hell it had been imprisoned in and been more active than a bouncy rubber ball on a concrete floor. I laugh, I cry, I go from bubbly to blubbery. My care for people near me has gone from mild concern to deep, almost smothering worry.

I feel like the last man standing, a seemingly never-ending onslaught of zombies in front me. The movie is ending, the final battle is here, and all I have is a crowbar and sheer will. Wish me luck?

October 8: Mellow and Dry.

A beautiful disaster,
A tragic opportunity,
An epic failure
A communicative void.
An anxious reply,
A turn of the screw,
An undefined silence.

----------

Maybe we'll meet, maybe we'll chat, maybe we'll have tea. Or this time it'll be coffee, it'll be a text, it'll be unplanned. Again we attempt, again we see each other, again we drink. The cycle changes, the pieces morph, but the process remains. It's more a question of what's created than what we do as it all falls together.

October 7: A Lonely Walk.

Every step,
every tear,
is another you,
another person I remember,
another memory,
trickling down my cheek.
Experiences, life,
clear as day,
fading as is the moonlight.
I pause, for relief,
in shadow,
cleansing myself,
of not just you, but others,
of memories, of experiences,
I'm not ready for,
of life, I am not ready to live.

----------

good morning,
sleepy, gravely, welcoming.
a stray arm,
a random smile,
a warmth,
persisting into the day.

----------

Young, old,
A number
Random, immaterial.
Wise, foolish
Experiences form a web
That easily ensnares
That preys on those
Not concerned w/age
But life lived.

October 4: Six empty bottles.

An early morning,
A rushed process,
A prompt reshuffle.
Out of Seattle,
Out of the suburbs,
Up the mountain we traversed.
Tenuous bonds,
tested, pushed, affirmed.
Parting, too soon,
words, rushed, emotions, questioned.

----------

cheap beer, new face,
wandering topics, waning conversation.
another bottle, another topic.
expectations, met, boundaries, respected.
another bottle, deeper discussions.
reality, faced, respect gained,
bottles, recycled, time, fleeting.
admiration, attraction, in check.
brisk walk, sobered tones,
empty, but content.

October 1: A clean studio.

A chilly morning,
mellow tones,
hot oatmeal on a scratchy throat.
A simple spreadsheet,
a month of finances in plain view.
A random chat, a smile,
the day's plans set.
A clean studio,
steam from the shower,
flickering candle peppering the senses.

September 30: Random.

Being a great friend, being a great partner, it isn't about love. It isn't about sacrifice. It's about passion, and being passionate enough about someone and how you feel that you accept the risk involved. Being passionate means accepting that risk, and being great when thought of by others is about that realization. Pain is an acceptable risk for those blinded by passion. We live each day following the passions we have, well aware of the pain nipping at our heels.

September 29: A bottle of wine.

With passion comes pain,
with rewards come retribution.
We gamble, throwing the dice,
Accepting the highs,
wishing against the lows.
We are a society of rewards,
not retribution.

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The rush of something new,
The thrill of the unknown.
The taste of something different,
A new recipe, a new fav.
Time reveals its place,
Whether tucked on the shelf,
or well marked on top of the microwave.

September 27: Home.

you could call,
you could email,
you could text,
you could tweet.
you could knock,
you could...
I could wait,
I could anticipate,
I could be anxious,
yet I try
to reason, to understand, to let go.

----------

With the social high, comes the social low. That wave of emptiness, the decided lack of some *thing* to do, of some *one* to hang with. The ebb and flow of life, the struggle to keep feeling good, to keep feeling wanted. A platonic sense of belonging, a sense of community, a sense of connection. How quickly it fades, how quickly it sparks, how quickly we lose it.

September 25: Finally home.

we ate dinner,
he kissed me.
I had surgery,
he held me.
we took a walk,
he kissed me.
we watched a movie,
he held my hand.
we bought groceries,
he kissed me.
we parted, friends,
he glanced back.
we grew close,
I kissed him.
we listened to music,
he held me.
we woke in the morning,
and we both smiled.

----------

show me, tell me, share with me.
expand my horizon, narrow my opinion, prove me wrong.
challenge me, question me, defy me.
shake my foundations, smash my beliefs, raise the roof.
impress me, improve me, embarrass me.
make me question, make me bleed, make me grow.

September 23: iheartSAM (and Cherry Street).

3 words, or 30, what does it take to describe a yourself?
Simple, no, it's too complex.
Eclectic? Not I, the one who blends in easily at times.
Quirky, maybe. For beneath the surface, many quirks exist.
One down, how many to go?
Basic, hmm, define it and let me know.
I could be basic, I could be so easily defined.
Unique? Please, that watered down term
Everyone claims it, and rightfully so
It's not like we're clones.
Sweet, am I edible? Am I a product to be consumed?
Wait, we aren't we?
We are here to mingle, no man an isle.
No amount of effort can contain the ripple our existence creates.
So why not define ourselves as such?
New and Improved! Now with more spunk! The kids will love it!
We can include user manuals and a list of compatibles.
Product specs? Sure
One human.
Quirky, basic, available.

September 22: Home.

To love with fighting,
Yearn without giving,
To yield without reason,
Complacency, idiocy, irony.

----------

conditioned, controlled,
manipulated, used.
unshackled, deprogrammed,
unobserved, free.

----------

With passion comes pain, with risk comes reward, with one extreme comes the chance of its opposite. Living requires acceptance of the risk, of the reward, of the pain, of the passion. Are you living?

My Clone Sleeps Alone.

As I move forward with my life, the hardest time for me comes as the sun sets. Sure, I have been 'single' for almost a year now. It doesn't mean my bed has been empty or that I have been a saint. It doesn't mean the opposite extreme either.

As I look forward, and start to slowly open up and consider looking for a relationship, or at least for dates, it's the one thing questioned. Is my motive fear of being alone? Am I so used to having someone that I am opening up for that reason alone? Am I the conditioned lab rat, merely reacting as I have been trained?

I knew the time wasn't right in January, yet I tried to have the casual yet not relationship. It flaked, because of my inability to commit, and at the time, it was the right direction. March came, as did vacation, and my feelings for someone known but just met blossomed. Reality, and distance sobered me up and I moved forward.

Late May came and two entered my life. Two I 'casually dated' for a month(ish) before redefining one as friendship. One left in limbo, in that casual yet not relationship state I seem intent on perfecting. August rolled in and finally, some definition was discussed. Again, friendship prevailed.

I've been afraid. I've craved safety within the comforts of friendship. I've been conditioned through years of being in relationships that with expression comes retribution, and sadly, it's been negative reinforcement. I've been conditioned to compromise, to hide the full emotion, to calculate my moves and not take risks.

Without work, and it's stress, that's changing it seems. The layers are peeling back, and I'm reconditioning myself. Sticking my neck out, being honest. I've been more emotionally charged, and working on confronting my emotions and the risks attached. Piece by piece, I'm changing, learning, crying, growing.

September 20: Fuel in Wallingford.

Passion, slippery slopes,
Unknown paths diverge,
Steps in the darkness
Footsteps light the way
Direction is lost
Hope is found
Life is discovered.

----------

Days unknown,
Nights uncharted,
Actions unscripted,
Life undiscovered,
Truth is the future,
Honest the past,
Confidence is lost.

----------

Cowardice and complacency were ingrained into my life as I chose non-confrontational paths. I can handle these two on my own, but with others, it becomes a challenge. As my defense soften, the challenge increases, and I slowly lose the battle.