Case Study # 1 - The River
In contrast with its cousin, the lake, the river is vast and merciless. It sweeps the particles caught within its' hydrogen and oxygen atoms in a robust, commanding fashion. Swaying in a menacing partnership with the wind, it juts forth and makes no effort to look back. Black, cold and endless as the night is the current finally created. There is no mercy. Only pain.
Case Study #2 - The Lake
Salmon flesh and still, green eyes. The lake is a reminder of the attainable peace life has to offer. Open for contemplation and ever reflective, waiting for companions who've heartbeats. The son of Merriam-Webster, the lake births creative freedom and yields adequate room in which to add to its colors.
Case Study # 3 - The Pond
Innocence. This is where we begin. The pond is safety. The pond is away from all adulteration. The pond just is. The pond is where birds grow wings and snakes get scales.
Case Study # 4 - The Ocean
The culmination of all entities of water is the bluest of all blues -- the ocean. This is the ultimate test, the place where the day is so red. Synthetically lit vessels remain buoyant atop a civilization of wretched, torn down carcasses. Half of them go about, unaware of what is underneath, the other half dodge its' eminence out of the way and set forth into a false hope of industrialization; of creating something bigger than man and his two hands. The ocean is where birds fly to sustain life, where they manifest everything beneath their wings. Ocean is the God too colossal to be shaken by wind. Instead, the breeze passes over the deity and becomes a servant to it. Though, war is inevitable and ships are bound to break. Preoccupied with action rather than vanity, the ocean swallows the sun for its' hue. The ocean is the answer to the fire.
Thursday
The 21st of April, 2010
Another year, another heart was added to my being today.
What colors have been mixed with my flesh and what oh, what have I learned?
That I am strong.
A year ago today, the trees that are my bones began to rustle and shoot up into the moisture of our spring. God gave me my wings and I flew into the summer air and never looked back. But in the fall I had a heart attack. Drove winter into a fence and then everything turned black.
--
We are a fragile species, man. We are cold and naked even when we are clothed and warm. Why do we hurt people like this? When we are all simultaneously bleeding and breathing the same. Why do we forget that all we get is bones, cartilage and tissue? We are all of the same atoms, yet selective to when we use our protons, electrons and neutrons right. Where is the symbiosis?
At the nucleus of our kind is this beautifully beating but ever breaking heart. This is what differenciates us. This gives us strength. Why don't we see these things? I guess it is my job to help.
--
I have been haunted by familiar ghost long enough to find another host. You were the one I loved the most. Tell me why everything flumes into you. Why can my spark not burn high enough to escape your face. My prayer for you is grace. That you would see this broken thing and be humbled by the Creator of the Universe. There is something bigger than you. There is an ember that burns true.
--
I am undeniably lonely. I do not sing songs. I do not run. I do not jump. I just fight.
God, make me beautiful again. Build me new.
Please fucking build me new.
What colors have been mixed with my flesh and what oh, what have I learned?
That I am strong.
A year ago today, the trees that are my bones began to rustle and shoot up into the moisture of our spring. God gave me my wings and I flew into the summer air and never looked back. But in the fall I had a heart attack. Drove winter into a fence and then everything turned black.
--
We are a fragile species, man. We are cold and naked even when we are clothed and warm. Why do we hurt people like this? When we are all simultaneously bleeding and breathing the same. Why do we forget that all we get is bones, cartilage and tissue? We are all of the same atoms, yet selective to when we use our protons, electrons and neutrons right. Where is the symbiosis?
At the nucleus of our kind is this beautifully beating but ever breaking heart. This is what differenciates us. This gives us strength. Why don't we see these things? I guess it is my job to help.
--
I have been haunted by familiar ghost long enough to find another host. You were the one I loved the most. Tell me why everything flumes into you. Why can my spark not burn high enough to escape your face. My prayer for you is grace. That you would see this broken thing and be humbled by the Creator of the Universe. There is something bigger than you. There is an ember that burns true.
--
I am undeniably lonely. I do not sing songs. I do not run. I do not jump. I just fight.
God, make me beautiful again. Build me new.
Please fucking build me new.
Quatre. Vingt.
How dare you sing me those songs and give your blood to another bottle the next day. Thou shalt not wear your cross upon my spine.
Told me the lightning bolt came back in hopes you could birth my spark anew. Well I was summer and the spring it was you. You are The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot and I am out of ammunition. So pit fire to the wind and set this town ablaze. But know that I won't be waiting for another phase. Of tips n tricks and birthday hips. You split my insides in two yet forgot the scars I would chew. But I didn't bleed lesions, at least not for you. Always remember what my ligaments can do. But for now, I'm done running after you. Thank you number 747, for the colors in my tubes.
--
There is a Good Lord who is true. He made me all red and gave you blue.
Told me the lightning bolt came back in hopes you could birth my spark anew. Well I was summer and the spring it was you. You are The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot and I am out of ammunition. So pit fire to the wind and set this town ablaze. But know that I won't be waiting for another phase. Of tips n tricks and birthday hips. You split my insides in two yet forgot the scars I would chew. But I didn't bleed lesions, at least not for you. Always remember what my ligaments can do. But for now, I'm done running after you. Thank you number 747, for the colors in my tubes.
--
There is a Good Lord who is true. He made me all red and gave you blue.
April the 17th
These curtains have not been open for almost a year.
I need you sun, and blue and green and heat. Come back, Navarre. Glow.
I miss my healthy insides and the veins that show on my outsides. I don't have veins anymore. I am trying so hard to bleed. The feeling to slice my fruitful flesh still burns at my heart.
Run Alexander, run. I won't be far behind you. Just know that one day I will catch up and you will go up. Then we'll all come back down and be made new. And when we do I'll stain these pages so thick you have to think quick. Fight, fight, fight for I was the one born with flight. And you'll see my wings knock death to all your useless things. Yeah, I come from Colorado Springs where everyone sings. I made that and I birthed this. One day your ghost'll come back. I won't ever forget that you can't swim. So meet me in the river, honey and watch me bleed.
Red, she is so beautiful. Red she is so bright.
Oh how you fucked that cold, dark, night.
I need you sun, and blue and green and heat. Come back, Navarre. Glow.
I miss my healthy insides and the veins that show on my outsides. I don't have veins anymore. I am trying so hard to bleed. The feeling to slice my fruitful flesh still burns at my heart.
Run Alexander, run. I won't be far behind you. Just know that one day I will catch up and you will go up. Then we'll all come back down and be made new. And when we do I'll stain these pages so thick you have to think quick. Fight, fight, fight for I was the one born with flight. And you'll see my wings knock death to all your useless things. Yeah, I come from Colorado Springs where everyone sings. I made that and I birthed this. One day your ghost'll come back. I won't ever forget that you can't swim. So meet me in the river, honey and watch me bleed.
Red, she is so beautiful. Red she is so bright.
Oh how you fucked that cold, dark, night.
April the 14th
In six days I will have the option to be born again. In six days a seventeenth heart will be added to my blood. That happens, doesn't it?
WE GET ANOTHER HEART EACH YEAR WE AGE
Think about it.
Where do we start?
Fragile and innocent, but undeniably ignorant. We know not of man or God of Devil or nature or ocean or fire. But we were born with open eyes. So what do we do as we progress into fruition? WE BEGIN TO SEE! And with sight comes experience. With sight comes struggle, intolerance and opinionation. With that comes growth and the formation of self. In that we find love and fear. We find what makes us shake and quake and rumble. We begin to see the ocean for what it is worth. We learn to be kind to others and how to help the broken. We learn how to be the broken and need help. We learn what tastes, sounds glistens and shines just right.
Aren't all of these things inside of a heart? Don't these things drive a human being?
So what if that is why we age?
Not to mold and evolve with one heart, but to gain more.
My red of the day.
I have never feared the summer more. I need to stop being and become.
WE GET ANOTHER HEART EACH YEAR WE AGE
Think about it.
Where do we start?
Fragile and innocent, but undeniably ignorant. We know not of man or God of Devil or nature or ocean or fire. But we were born with open eyes. So what do we do as we progress into fruition? WE BEGIN TO SEE! And with sight comes experience. With sight comes struggle, intolerance and opinionation. With that comes growth and the formation of self. In that we find love and fear. We find what makes us shake and quake and rumble. We begin to see the ocean for what it is worth. We learn to be kind to others and how to help the broken. We learn how to be the broken and need help. We learn what tastes, sounds glistens and shines just right.
Aren't all of these things inside of a heart? Don't these things drive a human being?
So what if that is why we age?
Not to mold and evolve with one heart, but to gain more.
My red of the day.
I have never feared the summer more. I need to stop being and become.
Godamn You April 13th
Maybe I prefer a fire that starts with wind.
Maybe it just hurts.
I am not a number.
I am not a category.
I am not a percentile.
I am not a science experiment.
I am not a law.
I am not a genre.
I am not 'an' I am.
Dear Alexander, please don't ever speak of me again.
--
Maybe it hurts to have nothing wrong with you.
Maybe God wants us to play with the Devil to prove that there isn't really a Devil at all.
Maybe God doesn't punish.
Maybe he just reveals.
Maybe it just hurts.
I am not a number.
I am not a category.
I am not a percentile.
I am not a science experiment.
I am not a law.
I am not a genre.
I am not 'an' I am.
Dear Alexander, please don't ever speak of me again.
--
Maybe it hurts to have nothing wrong with you.
Maybe God wants us to play with the Devil to prove that there isn't really a Devil at all.
Maybe God doesn't punish.
Maybe he just reveals.
Saturday
The Morning is April the 10th
Oh, to be where I have been.
To feel the things I have felt
And to kneel where I have knelt
But Alexander, you continue to ignore my fragile pelt.
So I must accept the futility in everything but me. I tried so hard and fought so long. I wanted to be with you when you played that song. I wanted that summer. But instead you gave me fire.
These are the thoughts I will sing about.
You are so gone.
--
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
My eyes are still so green. But they are not free. Sun, you used to burn so bright. What happened to your light? You, these things, where have they gone? Did I burn so hot the ceiling melted and turned us red?
Where do my dreams go at night, wrapped in my fears so tight? Oh my God, oh my God, where do you take them to meet your face?
To feel the things I have felt
And to kneel where I have knelt
But Alexander, you continue to ignore my fragile pelt.
So I must accept the futility in everything but me. I tried so hard and fought so long. I wanted to be with you when you played that song. I wanted that summer. But instead you gave me fire.
These are the thoughts I will sing about.
You are so gone.
--
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
My eyes are still so green. But they are not free. Sun, you used to burn so bright. What happened to your light? You, these things, where have they gone? Did I burn so hot the ceiling melted and turned us red?
Where do my dreams go at night, wrapped in my fears so tight? Oh my God, oh my God, where do you take them to meet your face?
Some day you will die and somehow somethin's gonna steal your carbon
I am prosecuted. Daily.
They tell me that I am wrong to want to know what is stinging when it hurts and what feels right when I stand beside my plight. Where does my fire go when man stealeth my lamp?
Isabelle, oh, my Isabelle, what have they done to you? Your dress, it is leaking and your heart, I hear the weeping. When did he tell you to stop the seeking? Why have you done this to yourself? I made you so strong, I made you so tall. But the Whiskey mixed with the pills only to help you fall. When did you start praying for rain and fuck it all?
He broke you Isabelle, he broke you in six times twenty-two. He made you cold and left you do die alone. Claimed your hands had planted the seed and let your iron-lung breathe the weed.
But he loves you Isabelle, he loves you. Fight for that freedom and he will be there. He in this Spring. He is in this air. You are so beautiful, Isabelle, and this story is yours to tell.
They tell me that I am wrong to want to know what is stinging when it hurts and what feels right when I stand beside my plight. Where does my fire go when man stealeth my lamp?
Isabelle, oh, my Isabelle, what have they done to you? Your dress, it is leaking and your heart, I hear the weeping. When did he tell you to stop the seeking? Why have you done this to yourself? I made you so strong, I made you so tall. But the Whiskey mixed with the pills only to help you fall. When did you start praying for rain and fuck it all?
He broke you Isabelle, he broke you in six times twenty-two. He made you cold and left you do die alone. Claimed your hands had planted the seed and let your iron-lung breathe the weed.
But he loves you Isabelle, he loves you. Fight for that freedom and he will be there. He in this Spring. He is in this air. You are so beautiful, Isabelle, and this story is yours to tell.
Tuesday
I Am April the Sixth
The abyss of florescents and tile flooring sucks me in and I jab back with force, force, force.
Man shaketh and I join to sing along that same song. I am bigger than this. We are bigger than this. We must fight!
The very same call to action that doth wake us from our slumber is alive and we must learn to break the bones of the rich and giveth the marrow to the poor.
Good Lord, what is that you toldeth last Sunday? That you hath risen, you hath risen. Teach us that song, tune our hearts and let us go, let us go. Dawn may break but the sun she cometh.
We must throw stones and shout like the fire! We are alive. We are alive and Good One, you shine. These pages; I will fill by the 17th year of my time. Moses wrote his books and I will write mine.
Genesis is here for us all so that we may defeat the fall. So pick him up, the God that you call and breathe life into these grains of sand and after take my hand. This Alexander, is the life we had planned.
Man shaketh and I join to sing along that same song. I am bigger than this. We are bigger than this. We must fight!
The very same call to action that doth wake us from our slumber is alive and we must learn to break the bones of the rich and giveth the marrow to the poor.
Good Lord, what is that you toldeth last Sunday? That you hath risen, you hath risen. Teach us that song, tune our hearts and let us go, let us go. Dawn may break but the sun she cometh.
We must throw stones and shout like the fire! We are alive. We are alive and Good One, you shine. These pages; I will fill by the 17th year of my time. Moses wrote his books and I will write mine.
Genesis is here for us all so that we may defeat the fall. So pick him up, the God that you call and breathe life into these grains of sand and after take my hand. This Alexander, is the life we had planned.
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