remind me again why i'm still posting, since no one will ever read this blog?

Heaven

Moments are like water. They slip away without the slightest inclination that they are ever there. Time, it governs us all. We have to race it, push it, pull it, use it, only to be outsmarted by its endless death. I wish I could re-live some moments, and forget others. I want to stay sitting on the back porch of a cabin forever, watching the sun rise over the high cliffs as the thick morning fog rolls over me once again. I want to sit there reading, rereading the notes from my friends and family has written me, telling me how much they love me. I want to forget all the times my Mother and I fought over petty things like chores and allowance. I want to forget all the times I have disappointed someone. All the times I’ve forgotten things, or laughed at someone else. But I cannot. I must wait, and remember each. All I ever ask is, will what I do on this earth ever matter after this life? What will happen? When I was little, I created a world that I thought was heaven. It was made of candy and stuffed animals and bright colored farm houses, and all kinds of magical ponies. Now, I imagine, instead of ponies, a huge wrought iron gate, towering up as high as I could see, it creaking open to reveal something unknown, but beautiful all the same. For me, moments still slip away, and I wait for what will come in death. I am not afraid of it. I never will be. Why? Because for me all death is another adventure, another world to discover. Maybe it is another place like earth, plagued by disease, poverty, but also a place where love means more than money. Maybe, it’s a perfect place with nothing, but joy, and happiness. As long as I live here, I will not know. Do not worry, I will never kill myself, for I am not afraid of death itself, I am afraid of the pain that it takes to get there. The suffering, the broken hearts I would have to leave in my wake. My world here may not be perfect or without fault, but it is still my home. I appreciate its beauty and reverence as it is. So many though, will never recognize it. Never recognize the beauty that surrounds them. They will destroy it, burn it. I will always hate destruction. As I work, pushing through all the difficulties and obstacles that confront me in life these precious moments slip by me. I will remember each. Each moment has changed an infinitely large amount. I want to trap myself in these moments curl up there and stay there forever. That is my heaven. Going back, and reliving the best moments of my life.

from my fathers perpective

Pictures

A short time ago it seems, I smiled down on that little newborn face of yours and snapped a picture of you and you mother. Then, what seemed like a couple months later, I watched you say bye dad, and leave for your first day of first grad, and snapped a picture. Then one day later, you sang on a stage, looking at me so you wouldn’t as you said, puke up you guts, while you sang that cute little Indian song in the fifth grade. You sat through my fathers funeral, seen me cry. Sorry honey, I’m not as perfect as you thought. So I took a picture, as you at there in that long black dress that covered all your sad and depressed. You look at me quietly with those dark brown eyes staring out at me from under that beautiful cap and gown, and so to capture you in happiness and snap a picture. Now you send me pictures of your littlegirl, who has her mothers eyes,a nd she reminds me of you smiling at me from old pictures. Through all these years, my hairs gone gray and so has my mind, but honey I still have all my pictures of you growing up. Even if I forget your name or your face, I still have my pictures, capturing all your grace. Love is one thing that never goes away, and me, I was caught up in it the moment I saw you crying for your mother.

my only cool memory from childhood

Starlight

Shaking, someone is shaking me. It was early in the wee hours of the morning, and someone was shaking me out of a deep dreamless sleep. I cracked the thin film of tired that covered my eyelids, and sat up, only to realize the sun was far from rising, and the stars still twinkled solemnly from my window. I collapsed back down on my pillow, but my mother wrapped my small body in all the quilts and blankets one my bed. In my ear she whispered “You don’t want to miss the show hon.” and I smiled, just because I knew she would protect me. I peeked out from my cocoon of blankets only to feel icicles of frigid air strike my face, and to see the stars, standing like sentinels, lining the sky in a menagerie of milky wonder. My father waited for us with another huge blanket, lain out on the stiff concrete, my brother a wad of sheets in his lap. As we sat down, I glimpsed something, a streak of star across the barren midnight blue of the night sky. Then, another streak of light flew across the sky, and then another, and then another, until the entire sky was covered in meteors making their fiery path to earth. So many, I thought. So many stars and so few wishes to make. And yet, all these years later, I can only remember one. My last wish, as the last star left its path across a moonless sky was that I would always remember the falling star. As my mother carried me back to bed, I was already falling back to sleep, falling back in dreams of imaginary things. Now, it all feels like a dream. Something that never really happened, something that is hidden in the deepest recesses of my waking daydreams. Yet every once in a while, it comes back, creeps into my thought, as though it had always been there. Now, I write it down, so that I will never forget the night when I saw the starlight.

A horrible short story. Wish it was summer already.

Summer Rain

Sweat. Dripping off my face as the sun scorches my body. Lying there, it’s hard to think in all the heat. The gross, humid, heat, covering me in a suffocating blanket. It’s like the whole world has started to move at the speed of molasses. Even the cars, their wheels seeming to stick to the hot asphalt, move slower. Or is it me? Still, I lie there, my bare back against the burning concrete, eyes closed, staring up at the oh-so-hot sun. Maybe, I think, if I stay this way long enough, some of the sun will tan my pasty legs. It’s 116 degrees, and yet it feels like 130. So hot, I can’t move. I feel like I’m stuck to the concrete, until someone comes along and peels up my sunburned body. I love this feeling. This feeling of total peace, surrounded by heat, radiating in waves around me. Spinning my mind into a sticky mess of long forgotten cobwebs. What seems like hours later, though probably only a minute, I waken to find myself staring in to a face. The face of something I can’t quite place, drifting in the form of a cloud. Then, I hear it. Way off in the distance. A rumble. Then, I see it. The air is starting to cool off, and just behind the trees of the cul-de-sac, hangs a grayish blot of rain. Creeping closer, ever closer. So humid, it stifles everything, making it so you can only feel it and it alone. You only smell the rain, hanging in the air. Then, the drops start to pat along the concrete, making it steam from the water. Me, I feel the rain soaking my body, relieving all the heat that still resides in my very pores. So I stand, for the first time in hours and smile, watching the rain fall all around me. I dance, flinging my arms and legs in reckless abandon just so that I can feel the wetness being soaked up into my thirsty skin. I can see the print of my body being covered by the rain. Then, just like it started, it stops. The clouds drifted off, having decided to pour their tears out somewhere else. Me, I’m back laying out on the concrete, waiting for something else to happen.

sometimes, I wonder why the hell i do things

Life force

Little girl, little girl

Just beyond your reach

A world hangs.

And yet every time you reach for it,

It sifts through fingers like sand.

You must add your spit to that sand,

Pack it together in a large wet clump.

To create that spit, you must learn.

You must learn you alphabet,

You must learn spelling, you must learn

Grammar, phonics, math, algebra, geometry,

Calculus, complex conjugate equation, biology,

Chemistry, polyatomic ions, history for every

Country in the world before you can ever

Begin comprehends what is in that spit.

Slowly, surely, though,you will learn,

You will learn, and think, and see,

And when you can feel

the life force humming all around you.

Flowing, ebbing, crashing, rushing, singing, you will feel it.

When you do, it will be time.

Time for you to face what lies beyond this

utterly insignificant little blue green planet

Hanging like an electron in this vast universe of space

It will be time for you to enter a new world, per say.

You will wake up and feel as if you have just had

a very long, satisfying rest, only to find me

staring you in the face once again. Leading you

to some unknown place. For I am Death,

and I have come to guide you into the next adventure