Sorry guys, I need to get back to this.

Winter has full on hit us. We haven't gotten a break in snow in 6 days. I've only left my house twice in the past week, both times for a job interview. It's not bothering me though. I think I like the idea of this quiet winter to get myself figured out. I've had so much me-time. I'm not completely hating it. I get bored but it's forcing me to find new things to do. I've been reading more, re-playing old video games, music searching/discovering, blogging, article reading, celeb stalking (baha), and chatting with old friends. I am okay with it too because I remember last year in Chicago, I was freezing. Our apartment was so cold and drafty, amazing, but arctic. I just remember staying in bed a whole lot more and being a whole lot worse off. Last winter was kind of the brutal truth that told me I needed to go home and stop pissing away the money i didn't have. I'm here now, and things are good to me. I had a very promising 2nd interview. I don't want to jinx it but I'm ready to take this seriously. I've been thinking about this a lot and I finally feel like I can come to a conclusion. They say how you spend your new years is how you'll spend your year, so let's look at last year. I was super happy on new years, but super indulgent and fucked up. I still love that day but it was probably a good indication of how i spent 2009. Indulgent and fucked up. This new years I had two beers early in the night and then stopped. Mike had a good time and I drove us back to his house, sober. 2010 is about better decisions and I'm excited about it. More bike rides, more chicago, more responsibility.

Causing infliction, and a piece of identification
Tie up your sutures because tomorrow will not be enough
look around, see them, want what they don't,
breathe how they breathe and eat your last meal.

There is a blank canvas above your head and I usually
don't feel this in the back of my throat.
Settle up with your patriarch and stop asking so many questions.
Papers with scriptures get lost in the wind,
kicking out car doors and falling into dusk.

I remember when I was somewhere around sixteen

a man who was significantly older than myself told me he had given up on love.

When I asked him why, he told me it had to do with a road block.

I don't have a garage door or a rifle, I am nothing more than unqualified.

I am a large apartment window with shreds of paper throughout it's panes.

What a silly idea, of course, to fall in love.

The shreds flood downwards and your blood pressure rises.

She always felt one thing and him, the other, and

you work late to fight off your pulse.

this is exactly what you needed

sixteen months of rehab

or what could be known as any type of recovery

this wasn’t different than most others

I picked you up and drowned silently as you slept.

The tremble can be cured but the heartbeat takes so much.

Flip to exhaust and exhale slowly,

Ration your breaths and swallow your sadness.

Only one more thing, to remind you that you’re dead.

Nostalgia; take the weight each time.
Your contraband came through my bedroom window
I could have sworn it was just the air.
Tonight was one of those nights that you can't decide you love or hate.
When you drive you don't look to your left or right, straight on.
It was a long drive for someone with so much to think about.
Keeping the window cracked to allow the whistle of the air,
anything to remind you that you're alive.

I felt your stare but it hurts too much to return the glance.
I gathered my jacket, allowing my emotions to make their exit.
Heavy Water/I'd rather be sleeping.

just c'mere

I wanted so badly just to lie down next to him on the couch, to wrap my arms around him and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and I was gawky and he is gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and he was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to where I was and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking if people were rain, I was drizzle and he was a hurricane.

This past weekend was a good one.
I worked from 1-close saturday, drove to cleveland. Got drunk with mike, saw Brendan, Catherine, George, and Kait. Made me real happy.
Sunday, got breakfast with Landon and Mike, went to Spin, Mike bought me a new cog (thanks baby!) afterwards Landon, mike and I went on a ride. New gear ratio felt real different, it's going to take some getting used to. Rode about 25 miles probably. Met up with suzy and her friend which was real good too. It was good to see her, again. Hopefully we'll run into each other more often as she does this Cleveland project she's working on. We rode back, hung out at Brendans with him and Catherine. It was a real good time, until I got really drunk and nervous about driving home and whatnot so we left.. i was sort of paranoid. dumb me.

blatant.

It landed somewhere in between "Come back home" and your way of saying you missed me.
The strange way that you would laugh at what I'd say. You always played it cool.
They would all giggle about how much we look alike and it was worse for me.
I'd have too much coffee and my body would tremble and you'd never finish your tea.
We'd talked through everything, that night of rainbow wind. Your teeth, they chattered so loud.
I'm looking through a snow globe.

I'm pinching what's left
holding it together with the only
strength I can conjure.
Your lack of effort here feels cold like
wires in my bed.

I am cleaner now but emptier.
I want this clock to keep the hours rolling.
Maybe trade 60, for something more like 25?
I can see the terminal in my head I can feel the
anxiety in my veins.

I have always wanted to be this brave.