I Miss the Old Internet

Informal Poll

2026-01-18T07:51:00.000-08:00

When cuddling with ur LOML are you actively working to see how many different parts of your bodies can touch each other or is that just ne

Untitled

2025-08-10T08:17:00.000-07:00

Smaller voids, never skip-able

As flat smooth rocks

Across casually running creeks

Since water never checks the calendar,

But sets clocks by its measure

And finds its way to a 100 year ago place

To a place been before

To a place never forgot

That One Time I Got the Flue

2013-04-03T17:52:00.002-07:00

At the World's Edge
Where weather is born
She reached through the dense fabric
Left a fingernail in my spine

A relentless cold sweat
As the nail melts slowly
She scries the Arctic tundra
A Russian folk song on her lips

I Remember When

2012-11-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

I couldn't write a song.

And now the music is everywhere and in everything.

If I stop and listen to the world long enough a new tune is born.

I have more work ahead of me than I could possibly imagine.

And it doesn't feel like work. Ever.

It feels like being alive.

Finally.

2012-10-17T18:36:00.005-07:00

I swear, man.

People, my people specifically are much more interested in talking about the fact that I make music rather than checking it out.

Well any of my work really but mainly the music.

I mean, I don't care what other people think, trust that ain't it.

It's the lack of sincerity.

Like "Oooh you're a musician? What style? Link me to your shit!"

Why, so you can not listen to it like everyone else and their Mom is doing?

This is what I mean about blowing smoke, man.

You ain't gotta spew nothing at me. Cause I ride around all day bumping my shit with a big smile on my face.

What did you think this is?

Loser-Ship

2012-10-10T17:14:00.001-07:00

Loser-ship is like a stink that doesn’t wash off.

You can hide behind fancy clothes, a nice hat, tattoos and sunglasses but wherever you go and whatever you do that big old monster is always poking its head.

As obvious as a turned out pocket.

2012-09-24T18:50:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I am low.

But I never stop.

Even if the mere movement is infinitesimal.

It is there.

I remember when

2012-09-14T19:52:00.001-07:00

I didn't know what I needed to know.

And it ain't even that.

It's the "What is it that I need to know to UNDERSTAND what I need to know!'

Feel me?

Do you remember that?

Because I never stop feeling that way.

Regret

2012-09-09T07:44:00.002-07:00

My only life regret is not discovering the things that I love sooner.

2012-08-30T20:28:00.004-07:00

You couldn't argue the girl.
(You wouldn't swallow hot coals either)

But you grabbed,
Plunged, mouth first

An errant stunt-moron
A one person tunnel boring machine

Cutting holes of the 6 ft deep vintage

Singe the flesh from your lips,
Burn through your esophagus

They'll cheer you in the ICU
She'll celebrate your recovery

Maybe concede a draw
(With caveats and conditions)

Soulmates

2012-08-29T06:50:00.000-07:00

An agreed inclination
Towards the guiltiest of the guilty pleasures
Like the flip side of each others favorite coin
Dipped in the same essence
Half-formed in separate wombs
With a shared secret handshake

OMFG YOU GUYS!

2012-08-20T09:07:00.002-07:00

2 Followers on my pr0n blog!!!

You have no idea how much this means to me.

2012-08-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

Stepping into the cipher uninvited
Offering unsolicited opinions
In trade for a social proof

"I thought you knew them?"
Heads shaking "No" in unison
When blessed with your absence

Still lingering like smoky tendrils of stolen essence
Replaced with a cheap whiskey hangover
An aftertaste of stale entitlement

2012-08-09T17:27:00.001-07:00

An Old Poem

My grip is tighter
My vice, more painful
I squeeze her in joy
Hold close to my heart

An earful of pain
Persist against her wishes
If I squeeze harder
She'll know I'm for real!

I can't hear protests
Her pleas or anger
I feel her heart beating
This is love, I must know

When she bursts in joy
The finalization upon me
Leaves nothing, confusion.
So empty, alone.

You People

2012-08-09T17:22:00.001-07:00

Don't even slow down to throw tomatoes much less wave.

But I adore you, my silent audience.

Rest assured if you're reading these words and coming back for more you have my gratitude.

:)

How it Feels

2012-08-07T12:58:00.001-07:00

Like running headfirst into an apparition
Desperate to recreate an embrace that never existed
With a person known only through the secondhand memory of a rival
When losing the argument with your reflection in a pocket mirror
Becomes the setup for the kind of revelation
That sees you waking underneath the crushing onslaught
Of neverending tidal shifts that you've no choice but to swim against
For the amusement of the masses that can't even fake interest
At the tiny, struggling image of you, tucked away
in the corner of their mind's eye.

Wow.

2012-07-03T17:20:00.001-07:00

Shit happens and you start to feel less and less like a person, just something hurling through the cosmos like a piece of debris.

The fact is, you can fly like this forever or eventually you smack into something or maybe burn up entering the atmosphere of another planet.

Welp.

Maybe the people that actually like me are enough to count on a single hand.

If that's the case I hope the ones that do not stop pretending otherwise.

And y'all think I'm just being a deliberate dickhead

2012-06-09T07:05:00.001-07:00

Last night my oldest sister asked me if I liked reggae.

Slightly Unique

2011-11-17T12:53:00.001-08:00

Never rushing to the stage to turn themselves inside out
Most keep their secrets
Hoarding their uniqueness
Priding themselves on things that separate

Ask the kid why he smokes
He'll spin yarns about his Father, the coolest cat he ever knew
He leans on the bar and orders a drink
Like how he saw some guy do it in a movie

Ask the kid his favorite color
He'll tell you of a girl, love unrequited
She'd never remember his name
Or spot him in a crowd

But she remembers, just like she remembers her Aunt
Would wear her hair a certain way
When she misses her most, she combs her hair the same
A faded memory her only model

Because the pictures, unbearable to look at
Are tucked away in a box along with the love letters
The old words always fresh
To eyes that never stop changing

People rush to the stage to find that they're other people
There are always other people on the stage
All clamoring with one voice
Saying the same thing to each other

Saying the things people have always said to each other
Seeking individual rewards
For the uniqueness that we all possess

Sirens

2011-11-10T17:36:00.000-08:00

They know the type:
Eyes aglow, honey coated words flow
From lips intimate with many a neck's quiver
Promise givers and breakers
Shining like the sun,
Spotted from miles away

What Do You Call

2011-11-10T17:31:00.001-08:00

That moment in life when you wake up and realize that you're Dmitri Karamazov?

Sentiment

2011-08-03T14:10:00.000-07:00

It is a curious thing to deal with the emotional burden of a piece I haven't written but one that I know I must write, one that will challenge the essence of my being.

Yes friends, I have banged out many words while tears have streamed down my cheeks and I'm not embarrassed to admit that.

I'm a sentimental motherfucker after all all... but I'll elaborate at one of my other internet-hidey holes later.

You know where I be, right?

Probably One of the Bigger Problems in Life Is That

2011-07-19T12:45:00.000-07:00

Exes never really stop being hot do they? Most of the time when the wheels come off a relationship, looks have little to do with it, right? Conversely how many relationships begin with simple physical attraction?

I'm gonna throw out a number here and say: Lots.

Yes, I am happily in love, married and living with the girl of my dreams but Facebook ain't doing me any favors when certain ladies update their profile pics.

Did I say that all out loud?

Oops....

For the Frauds

2011-07-06T15:24:00.001-07:00

The thing that bothers me most about sometimey folks who find friendship a matter of proximity is the nagging feeling that these same folks who smile in my face are the same people who think that I'd associate myself with a wack project. The same folks who snicker behind my back and assume I'm not serious about creating even though they have no idea what I'm on about these days.

Well, you don't have to pay lip service to my ideas. Ever. I'd prefer if you didn't really. I don't need phony ass smoke blown at me or one person's approval to justify doing what I do. I'm not interested in having the conversation where I talk about what I'm up to just to watch someone's disinterested eyes glaze over either.

Fuck all that.

Support my work or don't but don't speak out of one side of your mouth if you feel a different way about it especially if you've never experienced it. We're better off not talking at all if that's the case.

Don't pretend to care if it means nothing to you and we'll get along just fine. I catch you blowing smoke at me, there's gonna be problems.

Piranhas

2011-05-24T12:22:00.000-07:00

Hiding behind a gaze of steel, a charm throwing spotlight and a shark fin, I swim with them.

Barely elevating myself above piranha bait. How could I know? A well disguised nibble might feel like something different even as the blood flows into the water and sparks the feeding frenzy.

The blood is the proof.

Sharks smell blood which would help me, were I one.

I'm not a shark

Just a guy with a detachable shark fin who thinks he can swim with the piranhas and come out unscathed.