Heavy Weight

The weight carried for the both of us has buckled my knees. I wish I was able to explain openly, clinicly, what is on my mind and where my wip-lashes are coming from. I can't. Why should I have to? There are not listening ears out there. You know my every background reasons for sadness and lack of motivation. So now, I just turn into the problem; when I was (seconds ago, minutes ago, days ago, last week or month...) the solution to everything. I collapse. I break down only to appear to be back up. It probably isn't as clear in the open as it is in my own head. I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and answer impossible questions. I am out of time, money, solutions, and patience. Why is that so hard to see? I hope that the positive things I have done come back to me ten fold because if this is just a game to see how long I can last, what is the point of playing? Back to packing, cleaning, tearing up, and tearing down.. I just wish that I could cry non-stop, because only when its painfully clear does anyone know that I have a battlefield in my own mind.

Birthday 2010 iii

Finishing up last said box, I came across my second present (I think?). A tee shirt hidden beneath my freshly washed clothes. A gym tee shirt from Springwood High (the school that the victims of Freddy Krueger attend) at 3:30am. I almost shat.

Birthday 2010 ii

"I lie asleep in my bed and the loud sound of clear tape tearing from your room wakes me like a nightmare. I try to go back to bed, the whole time hearing you pack corrugated boxes while listening to music. The rhythms help coax me to sleep, but something about the packed boxes does not."

Birthday 2010

I stand outside on the morning of my birthday after spending incredible time at the Aver house. The bike ride home sent me to the Big Fish bar and proceeded to turn into talk about my prior 86 from the bar last Friday with the bar owner, JP. Talks were incredible. I informed the owner and Billy Dilly of my own 86, in that "I am moving to Chicago in three days.". This was another come and go from the bar and JP understood that he would indefinitely see me again in the future. We went on to talk about the NHL post season (JP is a Canadian, and therefore the Big Fish is a hockey bar), the two nights leading up to our 86'ing last week, and just overall happiness. JP is a fine bartender and does what a tender does best : converse. I leave the bar after drinking my house whiskey shot (the first birthday present of this, my 26th birthday), and now i write this. Only to go out and breath the smokey air and drink the polluted water (yes, take what you will from that sentence).