kiss the curb all over and over again

you ride home and i'll try not to vomit out of a cab like the guy i passed on my bike on the way home.
i don't know you
that well
i don't me much better.

i dance alone when the drinks are strong enough, no one can stop me till the night closes in... till the night closes in.

summer no love

If i was a Wrestler my name would be The Cuddler,
and my signature would be holding you while you tried to slap me off because it was summer and much too hot for that kinda thing.

i can pretend what the constellations are.

whaaaaoh here i am heroes and pharoes. i'm officially out and looking for some good money, cash. they changed the locks those fuckers, never back again for me. shoulda ssiped more vip card, but hell. found myself in the shit pit and the only way is up, don't wory bout me, i Am the liquor. the bowling ball left and all iahve are the good jokes, your pretty feet on the pavement be3fore ifucked off.

ten things i hate about she's all that breakfest club bringing it on

there's really only two things you can do at the end of a night when there's only two combatants walking out of bar stumbling.

one's gonna want you to walk them home, the other is going to want to go home.
sometimes you're the one wanted to be walked home and it feels shitty, now granted i'm a gentleman. i'll walk you home at the end of the night if you don't feel secure in that walk. it's no sweat. but if you wanna ramble on about your feelings i'd rather be at home making patterns out of the stuco on my ceiling as i lie in bed imagining a life that doesn't remotely involve any of your issues.

now, i love, will love, have loved everyone who wants to take the chance to get closer to me.
but, i'm not a plaything, i will hit you back if you hit me.
i'm not gonna chase you down at an airport begging you to not get on that plane, i won't show up at prom at butt in to ask for a dance, i won't crash your wedding. don't rely on me for any dramatic gestures. i'm just the guy telling you about the weather, djing the dance, playing the organ. good for you, i mean good FOR you.

still i feel pulled in different directions, i must save face and that means holding my punches and that's just too much effort.
the city keeps getting brighter, people complain more and more, and i just like being able to wear my sunglasses at night.

well kids, wether you're stalled at an alter of false hope or lost in the fields grasping at every new flower you see and christening them "love" you're still eventually gonna have to dust off the dirt stains on your knees and realize you gotta call bullshit more often.

they fell from heaven and carried me away

I don't have much to say. Honestly. But I have the urge to write, and since nothing that I write will be useful or productive, i have found myself here.

I've been listening to the playlist I made for my best friend. She's having trouble getting over an awful boy. Yes, I said boy and not man for a reason. A maturity reason. I titled the playlist: "Music+Science=Sexy: A 27-step, guaranteed, get over him, playlist" It's not helping her the way I thought it would.
Now I am listening to it on a loop. Beginning to end. Straight through with no shuffle. And it's not helping the way I thought it would.
I miss being desired, I miss being loved, and I didn't realize how much I missed it until now.

My body and mind are caught in a conflict right now: am i searching for some kind of meaning ful relationship, or do I just really want to get laid? My jhope is that both thoughts can coincide happily.... but things like that are never so simple in my world. Both items are a dragged out process which usually leaves me battered and bruised in the end,. it doesn't stop me from wanting them though. im a little bit of a masochist if you didnt realize. an emotional masochist but still a masochist. am i even spelling that right? who give a fuck im, drunk and i will spellhorribly if i want! I just hope the grammar nazi never sees this. i dopnt want to have to satrt writing secret anne frank-esque blogs.

i was talking to a friend tonight that i am sad i don't spend more time with and he made me realize a few thing about my life. mostly that if he had never come into the picture i would not be in a good place, and i would still be clinging on to the only thing i thought i had left wihich is a faulty friendship where i have been guilted into owing my very soul to someone has abusued me in more ways that i wish were reakl. my life has been a series of far overdramatic events thus far, and im done with that. ive been done with that before i even met the wonderful people i know now.
And I don't know how i can deal with out them now. i feel pathetic saying it, but they are everything to me. and i feel compleytely and utterly alone when im not with them, or when they dont call, or when the shy away from all those social messaging sites.

So this is me. No fancy analogies. No spell check. Heart on the line. Ready and willing. Cliches a blazin.
And I can't apologize for it, because, for once in my life, I want everyone to see me as I am and love me for it.

Still Here

You're still here. you brought me perogies and orange juice. But you're still here
why is that? Why did I let you back into my home. just remember I'm letting you nowher near my heart. But yes, you can have some rum. ive tried very hard to keep this friendship alive because i feel like i owe you something. Maybe it's my life, maybe it's my sanity, but I owe you for saving iot. And because of that we are still here. but I don't know if I can keep doing this. It's a onesided friendship,
well that is until you factor in the abuse.
wether verbal or mental or physical, I know what you are capable of and what you do. So really it's hgard to let you in on a more permenant basis. the first time you yelled at me i remember i was so shocked I laid face down in my pillow-cum-tissue and cried for 3 hours straight. one of the hardest cries in my life. The first time I figured out you were manipulating me I cried and cursed you on and off for a whole day. the first time you hit me I shut down almost completely, locking myself away from the world for several days. Not eating, or sleeping, or socializing, or going to class. Least of all talking to you.
And now you are on my couch., watching a wrestling dvd. I'm watching wrestling too, ya know. I'm watching my thoughts wrestle it out before me; fingers vs keys, thoughts vs screen.
you vs me.

Amazing Stories

No, I don't rea;;y have any for you, its the name of my box. not that name perv. i have a box that i keep my mementos in, from my girlfriends, or the ones that matter, all two of you. not surew if that will change, if ever. it's got a picture of a sea beast ripping apart a boat. ha, make of that what you will. i keep all your things you left me with in there, all two of you. an old patch i never was able to put on, too much. your drawings, always make me smile. a newspaper clipping from long before everything went to hell. love you both in so different and difficult ways. got to keep that nostalgia close, a new years that i'll never forget and that one drunken time i told you i loved you the first time. for you my first my dear i burned the pages of my first diary but kept the ones that pertained to you, ah love you matter so much. this blog should not only be written drunk but read that way aswell, you'll like it better. 4 pints 2 shots later and i type and am too coherent. why does everything happen at once? sex, moulting, new avenues, you can all go to hell. i get pictures in m yhead of blowing way too many and hating the next morning. not any more. everything has been put to rest now so tell me why i cant sleep. who doesn't hate being satisfied and then dis. satisfied. over and over and over..............amazing stories. i haaaaaaad a stroke. ah christ, gotta love how booze kills the short term and then way later everything else. don't have that kind of time. atleast, not outside the box.
frisch wert der wind
der heimat zu
mein deutch kind
wo weilest du?

Waterworld Snouts

you were the high water mark
there's been close calls since but i've watched them try hit the wall and then quietly recede.
i watched you go on until my eyes couldn't focus on you

now i play a thousand different games in a thousand separate seconds and wait for my number to be called. to be given the ok to walk down any given street i desire.

on the way home i saw a slapping fight between two hipster ladies, while a hipster boy watched on bashfully. the absurdity at redlights can be baffling.

i bike on as i do in my way and think of how there's too many young folk with bikes.
i wear a uniform even though i craved my own individuality i followed the high water mark. watched all the other waves push on into the horizon and try my best to follow suit.

maybe in the hopes to clash with you again, or maybe because i'm sick of holding this measuring stick.

either way, work is coming on way too soon. and the sun isn't bashful and doesn't mind stopping silly fights.
goodnight tigresses and anteaters, here's to a completely new divide

that man is a bad influence on me. a sexy bad influence.

so i fucked up. a little. i'm fucked up now. and im not supposed to be.

$10 wasted, $20wasted, now im wasted. and fucked up. come on. so fucked up. shouldnt have but did. i really shouldnt have. i really can't. im so incoherent now.
i didnt want it to be like this. i wanted to come here and talk about the rise and fall. about how i thought you were teaching me but i was really the baby sitter. one won't hurt. no, i was your mother. Why is it that I always have to play the mother, but not just to you, to everyone? just a bit. Don't you remember what I told you? I've already played mommy to the frail and innocent, when is it my turn to be the child. sure, another is okay. i need to put it out of sight out of mind. out of my mind, thats what i am now.
i'm floating.

i've missed him so very much. I missed him when I hated him. I missed him when I walked away. I missed him when he was so awful to me that I felt nothing could save me. but not anymore. i don't have to miss him anymore. it's right where we left off. Right where we started. Where we were supposed to be right now. And it's perfect. And we are the same. The horoscope told us we are the same.
And everything is right now. Except for the spiders and peanut butter and all those itches we need to scratch but we just can't reach because our hands can't get through the skin and flesh. We'll keep the 3's on the back burners and dream of the 8's tonight. We'll pretend our picnick won't get rained on. We'll sit on the deck until our lungs ache from the smoke and mouths ache from the words.
And I will move the floating aside so that he can feel his worth in my glass.

Hey, I can light my own cigarette!

And i chain smoked my way home.
Because i don't understand when they all stopped loving me. When I became an enemy. When i needed a scapegoat. probably around the time i needed them and they abandoned me. I love how friendship works.
I met you on the bus. which i hate. it was awkward because you are awkward. When did you become so fucking awkward? maybe it was after our last/the worlds worst send off kiss. The memory of that moment is where kisses go to die. Youve gotten hotter since we ended. more defined, you've kept the chest hair, but you still wear those goddamn glasses. Me? i'd like to saythat i've changed to whether better or worse but really i dont care. because your girlfriend is a horse face. she has a horse for a face. There it's said. We all thought it but no one said it.
Then Mr.Comfort walks in and I know I'm screwed. this used to be a good thing. But I don't want it. i don't want to fall back into our old patterns. Though its like a blanket... its also on fire. you are my blanket on fire. And people always get burned by fire-blankets. We both just sat there with our beers, me wanting out, you wanting whatever it is you long for lately (which is comfort. because you are lonely. and you miss our friendship. and you miss the girl who didnt hold on.)
so when your lips touched my ear every moment rushed back. arms pinned brick walls waking up roommates up until all hours turning nouns to verbs and verbing until ouur bodies couldnt move the broken bed and subsequently the floor. so you ask to be my scapegoat. Although I do have the urge to ram my cellphone stroight through my head to get away from these people and their over negativity I just... laugh. And I let you go on your own. And I'm oddly proud of it.
Because i need to let you go.

Now i'm here and I realize i donthave anything from before and im so different and they havent changed with me. i feel more lost than I ever should. im lost on in my own maze and i think the maze is on an island because I can't seem to find anyone around here. let alone someone who knows the way.

next summer it will rain frogs

that place, is a carnival soaked in 'kermit the frog' green.
it servers the weak, the wicked, and the lost.
i join in on the fun from now and then,
but by the witching hour they are devouring one another.
these kids eat one another alive when push comes to shove.

i've walked away from enough moments that would only lead to a conclusion that would emotionally feel quite similar to a pretty bad case of blue balls or playing a whole circuit in Mario Kart to find out you finished fourth.

tonight there were moments.
moments to hold my tongue, some to bite it hard, some to twist at, some to stuck out to.
but i'll still mix them up in my chrome bowl. take the good with the worst and forget the bad competely.

it's still that frog green that it all gets doused in.
it puts me off,
keeps me staring away from the smile that sits patiently beside me.
it has me unfocusing my eyes from the freak show
losing myself in the blur to how its been the past few weeks.

my bed is full and then its empty. and i know i comprimised alot, and i know i dont feel any wrong by it.

but she reminds me of the devil on my coattails how it's all coming down on our heads one day or another and i embrace the void our destination presents. i guess.

the words are weighing down. i'm tired now.
green light stained, once again Grimmed yet content of being capable to carry out whatever dingy place i've made myself.

Cheers to the freak show, that little carnival that spins wildly in most of us.
Cheers to next summer, because quite frankly this one feels fixed

Fey Grim

regardless of Michael and Farrah's fates we tread on, boats against the current....

i continue to broaden the distance between me and things oh so complicated.
i still dance with the moon beams, and the sun beams. only now it's harder and with such violence.

so this little number walks into the bar tonight and i know her and she cocks her head to the side and gives me a curious look. and i know she recognizes me but she can't place it. but she wants to place it.. and for good reason.

See, one night i was more gentlemanly than one ought to be and i took care of her while she was going off the deep end on a weekend stupor. She could only make out offensive 5 word sentences before she had to bow her head to the pavement again.
As best as i could i kept her head afloat, she only said nice things to me. Every passerby got the lash of her inebriated tongue.
I finally carry her into the party that she insists we must go to and things are going well...
hmm, as well as they could given the circumstances.
we talk a bit, we dance, we bring our bodies closer. we hug more. we kiss some, we're heating things up. she's leveling out and recognizing me as an ally, as a friend.
i tell her i'll be back with some drinks,
head to the bar and buy her a gin and tonic and a rye and ginger for myself.
i walk back through the zoo and find her pressed up against someone else.
and in that moment i did what any sensible person would do.
i look at the guy and make notes in my head of all the amazing things he is. how he is the opposite of me, how he demolishes all my short comings. and in their corner of ravagement a tap the little number on her shoulder, she turns quick and i hand her the drink.
then i continue my night on the other side of the room. drinking off the coldness of the winter weather outside and to beige out the corner these two are occupying.

tonight, in much better weather, she sits across from me and is cocking her head to the side. and i grin back.
someone tries to introduce us but she stops him and says "no, i know you from somewhere"
and i say "you do, we've met before"
"really? where?"
i just smile and turn back to my conversation. Throughout the night i catch her giving me that same look. cocking to the side. she's trying to remember something, a recognition she had on some far gone colder night.

i'm too busy dancing the moon and the soon beams.
while the rest of the world lives in a state of caution, i push for a state of uncomplication.
while this is one boring place to push for, it gets me by. The car is moving too fast to jump into the road so i'll just turn up the radio and let the smooth sounds of MJ singing "rock wit you" take me away.

Wrong House

So the other week i was on a big drunk (not like now, which is a little one, drinkin a six and watching 300; so many men, so many tight, bodied men) where i decided to go out a walkin. i had drank a bottle of wine first thing that morning, and, unable to stay at home with my parents, who were understandably worried i left the house figuring i could go see my old friend kyle, who just might be at home. i showed to his house after hitting the liquor store but as it turns out he had recnently moceved out and i stumbled upon a friendly looking dude and 2 chicks drinking a bottle of wine. i asked if this was still my frends house and they had no idea, having just started there habitaion. but, upon seeing i had booze with me they invited me in, where i talked at length to the guy about modern elcotro/house becuase he was a dj. i asked what his name was and he said frank. i asked waht his dj name was and he said the same. frank the dj? dj frank. i played soem soulwax for him and he played me his own shit, which was good. we smoked and drank down there in my former friends bedroom, now a sound studio. as it happens i was too drunk and upon going upstairs and finishing my own booz i just took a big swig of the wine bottle, at which both women were horrified, i believe one saying she no longer wanted to drink her booze. i looked to dj frank for supposrt but he was all like nah man, that wasnt cool. so i left promptly after that, think i may have fell down and hit the curve, not sure, my hip is bruised. or was, it was a while ago.

fixed, forked, and fortified

my phone keeps rubbing my leg. its vibrating the whole night.
i read the text. my company is request northward. but i don't mind it where i am.
but i, being the gentleman that i am, oblige and head to Sneaky Dees. a bar that i thought i could wash off my skin completely but the stench of it lingers. It smells of new flesh. younger flesh. and too many green coloured bottles downed much too quickly.
I'm half in the bag a sit down with a green bottle waiting and willing on table sitting across from young flesh that's grasping on to young flesh.
we start talking about film and i get it right away.
I'm the elder here. i have the right of way. these bodies shiver in my presence but they have balls, unlike i did when i was them. they want to impress but they can't. i have know more, i call their bluffs i see through their bullshit.
this new requesting flesh rubbing on newer flesh keeps making eyes with me and i should feel alone. i should feel ashamed or at least some what embarrassed. but i ain't. I'm half gone and all i really need is to finish this bottle and get out of here.
i down it quick and tell the kiddies to fuck off about star trek.
i go to unlock my bike, drunk and riding is never a good idea but fuck it, i wear a helmet.
this desperate youth hugs me, kisses me gently asks me how i've been. i laugh and nod along, i tell her that it was nice to meet her new boyfriend. and she laughs, longer than she ought to.
she says "no, god no. he isn't my boyfriend. he's asleep. this is just some guy. oh i'm so bad" she says laughing. repeating it over and over whilst giggling "i'm so bad"
then she looks me square in the eyes and says "sorry"
i bite down on the cigarette i'm lighting up and say "its ok"
but what im really thinking is "im glad im not your boyfriend"
on my ride home i see the two young bodies in a fury on the street. unashamed, unworried, letting go. giving it their all cause really, fuck it. right? just fuck it.
i should feel old. my bones should wiggle with tension but i dont care anymore.
im too old to mind and too young to care.
its all big joke.

i get home and a group of men are yelling "GANG BANG GANG BANG!" and a giggling girl on their walk home. some nights you realize that no matter where you could be in the world, whether it be hitting on Swiss women in the alps, necking on a canoe in the Yukon, or just making love to your computer in a Brooklyn loft. that no matter where we are we are all too silly. too quick at the draw. too willing, yet too withholding.
the women want husbands, the men want concubines. and the meek shall inherit the Earth.

today was the first day i rode my bike without holding the bars. i pedaled and dance down every street i could. i did it drunk on the way home too. i think it comes from an overwhelming feeling of just letting go. not fearing the biting of the curb and embracing sun and moon beams alike.
The city is mating, the people are fucking in disgusting ways, and some of us are drinking too much. we are the people of the streets under pressure.
pressure pushing down on me, its pushing down on you

learning the curves

when the green is cleared away and your ball is set up on the tee, please take the shot.
just take it, you might as well.
even tho Bill Murray is watching you from the bushes
if you just take the shot and send it into the woods then fuck it. at least you gave the voyeurs watching some damn entertainment.
you got the club, take the shot, fuck what everyone else thinks.
just you, some grass, and balls. hit it!
but do, however, take into account the wind factor.
cause Toronto blows mighty hard,
it comes from the east in the early afternoon and the west in the night... be warned