Now It's Complicated.

Walking to a macroeconomics

exam

at three-thirty

in the afternoon, sipping

slowly at an

Arizona

green tea

knowing that in

12 hours, i will still be

awake

in 16 hours i will still be writing

.

I arrive and sit in my desk

, like all the

other children, prepared

and excited for the

exam, i bravely

break out into

song about

money

money money

.

now i sit

12 hours in the future

trying to be a good student by 905 AM

. It might

not happen, but

at least, i'm giving it

a shot

in the pitch dark.

~Study all night. Study All Nighters.

Kisses and hugs and still forever yours,

Digress.

Evasively Inebriated

i'll spend most of my nights

doused in wine,

doused in the idea

of having more than i can chew.

i placed my teeth in the word

back when i was fifteen

ever since

the word has been attempting to hide

i found it again

under the last

night of the earth

and i found it again

hiding

in cold blood

behind the layers of Capote

it's there

in the hum of fluorescent lamps

behind the studs in the wall

in between the glass and the fortitude

it is the

zeros in your

phone bill

it's the lines on your

credit card bill

the word

is hiding behind everything

you just have to

be insane

enough

to read it.

~Classical Music.

Love,

Digress.

Life Gives Lemons.

i solicit sex scandals and wear no sandals

with years more on my love life, i've got something to share

bruised knuckles and broken hearts

bad haircuts and banging on the window

until the strangers are ready to drown

you wanna watch us all die

you wanna watch us all melt

and i just wanna watch us all laugh

cry and escape, because that's what becomes of us all

we're gonna meet our reflection in the mirror

and we should know that we reflect on every peer

sit still and keep yourself under the heart

i've got enough of the first part

bottle dreams and blurred night scenes

its an abattoir hidden under Capote

its the subtitle under the fine print of the brochure

the projects we continue to do after graduating high school

it's seven steps to the hell inside

and it's eighteen minutes to the death of laughter

enough of this, enough of that

art has died in my arms and

art has died in your own words.

~Painting in the back room, painting your face in the moon again.

I love you with every bone,

Digress.

A Flame Mesmerized

The room is getting smaller,
the walls are closing in
The world outside of ours is dying to get in.
Dying to interrupt our paradise
To make us feel small,
And unsure..

Baby, we’re getting smaller but we’re not gonna let them in
Hand in hand,
Mesmerized, we’re
Spinning…
Dancing.
To a beat matching that of our hearts
To the song no one else can hear
Nothing
No nothing…’s gonna tear this love apart.

Torches thrown,
in hopes of burning us down
But the only flame I see
is the glisten of fiery passion ablaze
in your gaze piercing my heart, my soul…
Menacing flames controlling the walls around us,
We are safe…
Upon our love
these flames cannot take hold.

Baby, we’re getting smaller but we’re not gonna let them in
Hand in hand,
Mesmerized, we’re
Spinning,
Dancing,
To a beat matching that of our hearts,
To the song no one else can hear
Nothing
No nothing…’s gonna tear this love apart.

The air around us is hazy
And clarity of direction is lacking
They say that the picture can only
Be black and white,
white and black.
There’s an in-between they fail to see
That’s as real as the air we breathe
Forever is how we want it
And that’s how it’s going to be.

Oh,
We’re getting smaller…
Not gonna let ‘em in.
Hand in hand,
Baby,
Mesmerized..
Hypnotized,
No one else can hear…

Low Gear.

Sitting in my room quietly

pondering the

future of nothing

and devising a new plan for excellence

.

I think about the black widows

late-night audible voices

how I cannot miss

this place

.

I fail to sleep anymore, the big

windows are cracked

with intimidation

the headboard is cemented in place

.

It is, though

common practice

to open up the mind and

listen to the dial tone slowly fade 

into the distance decay: just outside my mirror

.

~Eighteen minutes per day and i'm still ashamed.

Love,

Digress.

A Tragedy, Really.

Through my pitiful Myspace page

I have been eristically challenged

of my opinion on 

              existential matters

messages of dreary words

shooting back and forth in the vast-

impossible imagination of the internet

between my empty-headed

ideas portrayed stolidly

         and those

being broadcast through the

engaged stylus of

a broken 12"

        no mercy for the

        wicked    I suppose

and I find myself wondering

with each message

              , "how did I get into

                     this?"

I even initially  responded

to this pugnacious creep

with a letter

of (what i thought to be)

peaceful disregard

"I won't touch this topic because i find the

  argument to be

in vain and of vanity."

and now

         , knee-deep in her

horribly-crafted arguments

I submit the next chapter of my

            horribly-crafted retorts

~ This is what reading has taught me. this is what you taught me. this is what i won't do for you. this is what i haven't done for you.

Love,

Digress.

The Friendship Process

First, if you can get past my lewd
and unreasonable ideas
or if the timing is proper, you
get past my
sociopathic-taciturn nature
you'll find that i'm not the most
gracious of people
but, to you, it can be

categorized into

                 "personality"

. I'll become
a laugh-a-minute
        endeavor
                 for you

I alway seem to

         endeavor

next, you'll find that i have
some strange passive complex of despotism

, if you're lucky you won't ever
catch on to it
. then
, you'll see that my shrewdness and rancour
toward those
whom i deem the proprietors of intelligence
in a paucity
is probably the most ironic thing
you've ever seen
, if you're keen enough
on hoodwinking me

then, days

, weeks

, years later

i'll eventually become

frustrated with your inept
means of approach
and the lack of stolidity you
present or

, due to massive

embarrassment of my

strange despotism

, i'll either
slowly or abruptly
phase you from my ties of
communication
.

then i'll see you
weeks, years, months
later
and probably give you
a second chance
.
i don't think
               you, or i will
ever learn

~I'm in a bad way. still ill, but i love you all. all of you.

Love,

Digress.

meeting you

i lied when i said that
"im not scared of that mirror anymore!"
if only that statement were true at the moment.
i cant bare to look in that death trap anylonger.
its his fault i cant.
before it was his statements that made me believe.
he took the power of beauty away from me,
he stole my confidence and hid it from the world.
even if i muster up some confidence to get out of this room,
everyone will know what he has done.
you can see it in my eyes.
i feel it in my step.
it haunts me in my sleep.
i know you arent worth these tears,
and i wont remember you,
so help me God, i will never remember you.
this is truly my life regret,
ever meeting you.

Digress

I can't believe I'm still reading those insane rhymes. I just got a little nostalgic...

Take My Hand...We'll Make It

For once in my life I don’t have to try to be happy – now that I’m with you – I just am – all the time – even when I’m missing you – because I remind myself how fortunate I am to have you to miss. How fortunate I am to have such an amazing someone to love and have that love returned. I’ve got what most people spend their entire lives searching for – it found me…when I stopped searching it found me – it brought you to me…at the perfect moment…the moment when I needed you most…the moment when I couldn’t last any longer without you in my life…without you by my side. You came into my life at a time so perfect that it might as well have been written into a fairy tale – the day that the princess gets her prince. If my life was this written fairy tale – you are my prince. Not only are you my prince, but you’re my angel too. Now I know that sounds crazy, but hear me out. You’re my angel…that I have no doubt. You were the one prepared for me; the one who is meant to guard my heart…and guard it is what you have been doing. You’re the one who is to take my heart and put all the pieces back together…so you’re like the glue gun that is carefully gluing the pieces of my heart back together…and you are bedazzling it with your own special touch with each piece that you fix…you’re giving it your own flair…a flair that shows how unconditionally you’re going to love me…a flair that won’t be quick to lose it’s sparkle. I want that sparkling flair to not only remain but to grow into a radiant aflame wildfire that cannot be tamed. I’m counting on you to look after my heart because I can’t… I don’t have it anymore… you do. You’re the one who stole my heart and I’m glad it was you and no one else. Because in anyone else’s hands my heart would not be where it belongs…it belongs with you…my true love. The love between us is a love so true that truth itself seems to be false. A love that is like the world’s rarest priceless jewel…the rarest of them all for it only exists between us. A love that could be represented by a blue rose – if only it existed in natural form…for a blue rose would symbolize attaining the impossible…or the rarity of the one you’ve found. We have attained what many believe doesn’t exist…what many believe to be impossible to find… we have attained the impossible. Our love could be expressed through a red rose just as well. Everyone knows that the red rose is the rose of love. But what is commonly overlooked is that it also shows passion and undeniable romance…a desire that cannot be fulfilled loving anyone other than you… a love that is a rare red ruby in the darkest of hues. But nothing could ever come close to describe exactly how much I love you. The path that lies before us is long and winding and full of bumps and turns…but we can get through anything and everything…just take my hand – we’ll make it…I swear.

Blame Edgar.

I suppose you can blame Edgar
Purnell Hooley
for the fact that I
can't purchase a TVR in the
United States
and if i put Eco-Fuel
into a Koenigsegg CCX i'll be able
to access 900 break horse
power
. You can't drive a Porsche 911 GT1
in America because it
hasn't been crash
tested
nor does it have a
catalytic converter
but it was test driven in
germany for
27 hours with out
rest
and it
has participated
in thousands of miles of
racetrack
. Lotus puts two catalytic
converters on their
cars
for breathing
, they also make a Vauxhall
that
performs better in
turns
at a lower price
. American General
Motors cars
have automatic
gearboxes that know
nothing about shifting
and I can't mount slick tires
on my car
because that would be an
illegal
advantage over police
. Despite this, we still kiss under moonlit
skies and
huddled inside
of blankets
while the world
rotates
, while the dirt feeds plants
, while water reflects light
, and Edgar
quietly laughs in
his grave


I Blame Edgar
Purnell Hooley

Inventor of



~Sign here please. i must improve my passport status.

Love,
Digress.

World

It's like toweling off
after a long-hot
shower
with a cold-
damp towel

It's absolutely
like passing out before
dinner
or even, during

and

It's sad, just like poor
grammar
and typos in final
works

It's sad, exactly like holes
in umbrellas
or overgrown
lawns

but It is happening
in your own
overgrown back
yard

nobody cares to
nobody wants to
improve their grey-
matter
nobody thinks it
matters
anymore. and really
It doesn't now that we have
such
newfangled abattoirs

It
has grown
Into the ungainly old man down
the block
who walks in languid steps

taking each ascetic step

on time at
noon

each day,

just to make sure the world is
still
where he wanted it to be

pervading outside.



~Berceuse. By Chopin

Love,
Digress.

I gave up

Hey guys, i'm sorry, i gave up on writing for a while, and i don't really know why, but i think i'm gonna try again soon

We Wander Into Exams Without Knowing.

the sun screams
while the buildings watch
the concrete accuses
and the chairs forbid
the door closes
as though life were
being extinguished

the classroom feels like
1974 architecture
and
the floor-
tiles don't match
i can't muster
up the strength
or the will to
just put them in envelopes
and let somebody read
them
but Mussolini could

the voices of my peers
smell like candy
before it gets packaged

some look
for the before
some look for the
future
some look for the now
i keep looking for
reason

the books open impertinently
and my ears are shoved
full of forty-
million kilos
of cotton swabs


~Come watch me go broke. i am becoming a sick man.

Love,
Digress.

Don't Be Me.

i want to be the ground under feet and the voice over beats
doing good deeds and carrying out orders without cease
i want to own fast cars and move in style on the streets
heads turned for the flash of a headlamp and look of elite
i want to travel from here to there and experience every corner
giving out the information as though i was a donor
i want to be on the inside, and know every detail
to keep the wrongs from the rights and wind in the sail
i want to be sturdy like the truss under the train rail
creaking under weight but not relenting to the pressure
i want to be the point to your daily lecture
the ongoing commitment to speak for hours
i want to travel from the corners of east and west
so that i can search for a place to finally rest
i want to be the notebook that you study for the test
keeping you in check with the truth and the boundaries
I want to be the creator the movies with brand new scenes
challenging your eyes and producing pictures of dreams
i want to be a trillionaire with more money i can spend
but poor in the soul so i could never bring myself to ascend
i want to be poor on the streets rich only in my heartbeats
with millions of ideas and thousands of ways to achieve feats
i want to be the bass and the movement inside the club
so much poor grammar you don't know who or what i love
i want to be deployed over seas on humanitarian missions
helping out the people i will never be or greet with derision
i want to watch the earth melt as the sun explodes in an instant
the noise so loud humans will never hear the wounds of division
i want to know the truths of the universe
deciding whether or not the human race is truly cursed
i want to find my place in royalty
inheriting tracks of land and wealth dated ages back
i want to reach out to the poverty
experience the views of helping all those in the sewer
i want to watch the extinction of the dinosaur
cataclysmic events that unfold to the future inspector
i want to be the mouse on your computer
taking you to any place you travel virtually
i want you to become every part of me
and i want me to become every part of synergy
i want to blow a kiss from here to another galaxy
collisions so strong that the world breaks in tragedy
i want to go on break for the rest of my life
never have to deal with any of the hard s**t that bites
i want to speak every language and know all my rights
so that i could understand my place in every light
i want to escape prison without a hint of remorse
in the future i could get a job guiding tours
i want to paper your walls with money
diamonds and gems with pound sterling summary
i want to raise a child and put food in his tummy
so that he can become something better than his father
i want to have a room where nobody can bother
just me, music, whiskey, and the internal organ slaughter
i want to fly helicopters through bullets
delivering payload to those tough as drill bits
i want to be the suspension as the road twists
the calm road turns rowdy with the fist
i want to be you, and i want you to be me
so that we can exchange glances without the guesswork
then maybe we can turn this world into an exhaustion of torque.

~Considering dual citizenships. would you like to come with?

Love,
Digress.

come back to me.

how do i know if its time to move on?
i can never be too sure.
all i ever needed was you.
and and
whenever i am lonely,
whenever i am sad,
whenever i need,
whenever i want;
i need to see you,
i need to feel you,
i need to know you are here,
i need to know you watching;
and and
every night in my dreams,
i feel you,
i hear you,
i see you.
and and
every morning when i wake up;
you aren't there,
i can't feel you,
i can't hear you.
and and
every night i;
pray for help,
a sign to know the truth,
to hear those words one last time,
just whisper them into my ears,
draw them on my back,
make me guess what you are saying,
write it in the stars.
tell the world you still do, and always will.
and and
tell me its okay to have someone else.
tell me to stop crying,
stop worrying,
stop pushing people away.
and and
just come back to me.

second round of this

here we go again,
writers block,
i have so much to say, but
clearly i dont have the right words.
so much on this mind of mine,
i need to rhyme.
let it out, spit it out.
its right here...on the tip of this tongue.
i need these creative finger tips to tell you my story.
it goes like this;
this and that,
her and him,
me and them,
why me oh why me?
insted of girls, girls, girls,
boys, boys, boys.
smoking in the boys room,
smoking in the quad to forgetting he even was alive.
all i know, i cant fight this way.
dont know what we are fighting for.
i could tell a million lies, but it would be no inch closer to the truth.
there is a time, and a place, all i know is i gotta make it right this time.
time to move on.
get me out of here.
its like im here, but with out me.
cant stop the hurt inside.
----not creative enough.
how can i spin these words to make it pretty, and make you want to read it,
make you want to write about something.
write about something that you so deeply care about, or have to get off that chest.
write, i say write.

me-town 101

i want to stand around and look and have the choice to choose the shoes i wear to this college thing more accurately referred to as a booze...fest. where you lose all sense of whose clothes are whose and on those half drunken sundays lay on hammocks and muse about nights before (the ones you lose) and when PROfessionals get the news of your booze...fest they sit and they tell you you abuse. this substance called alcohol. and you say i don't abuse, i aMuse and it's my source of power and freedom and i refuse to believe that this amber liquid i use for my metaphysic speeches may bemuse those who look to me for less falses and more trues. and occasionally, only simultaneously, will i excuse myself from my shoes-choosing and my booze...fest to contemplate what the PROfessionals tell me that what i'm really doing is lose...ing myself and i've got to stop reusing the same jokes at different times. and this perusing usually almost always imbues me with an idea that i need to choose better shoes. to wear.

Elevator Shafts

The end of the world slowly
drags it's desperate body
along the turns of Nüburgring
which so aptly have caused
more concerns of safety
than anything else

The end of the world
slowly watches as
the date changes from
one facially of a day
to another lie of a day

The end of the world
approaches keenly and
without prejudice
he watches as the Earth
spins in it's obliviousness

The end of the world
slowly scrapes the surface
of the earth
with overgrown fingernails
and non-empathetic virtue
he sheds tears for the act

The end of the world
pumps the accelerator
in the corkscrew of Laguna
, no empathy
just dissatisfaction

The end of the world
feels no remorse for
what it is about to do

The end of the world is
slowly creeping up
just like the sunrise
just like the springtime
just like tomorrow



~American Le Mans Series. investigate it. maybe, just maybe it is the key to the universe.

Love,
Digress and his ever-lasting obsession of Le Mans.

What Is This?

What is this? When a jolt in my soul is felt every time a kiss is shared, a whisper is spoken, a touch is felt? It’s something that is indescribable, yet completely self-explanatory. It’s something that not only fills my heart, but overflows into my entire body and soul. It’s about the chills that hit every part of my spine when I think about him. It’s a color that can never fade. It’s something that can lead us to the place called forever. It’s the magnificence seen by sincerity revealed through his eyes. It is the feeling that still lingers long after our kiss is over. It’s something that can weather any storm and it’s a teardrop in a rainstorm. Though our relationship contains distance between us, it’s like the wind to a fire. It puts out the small ones, but enflames the big ones. And even though he is some distance away he can still make me smile. He’s not one of the reasons why I’m happy all day long or why I’ll never feel alone again. He’ll never be one of the reasons…because he’s the ONLY reason. I can’t get him out of my head. Every little thing that he does just strengthens everything that I feel. It’s the way he makes the setting sky more beautiful to gaze upon. It’s the way our hands match perfectly – the spaces between our fingers were created so that our other half could fill them perfectly. It’s the way he catches all of my attention with out ever saying a word. It’s the way I get weak at the knees when I get lost in his captivating eyes and it’s the way I can’t breathe when I’m around him. It’s the way my heart skips a beat when I see him and the way my heart can feel him there even when he’s miles away. It’s the way he makes me fall all over again like I did the first time. My knees went weak and I couldn’t catch my breath the first time we really kissed. And now every time he really kisses me, even if it’s as simple as a kiss on the nose, I feel that way over and over again. He is the piece to my life puzzle that I have been waiting to find…and he fits perfectly. So what is this that I have been describing? I’ll leave that up to you to figure out…