tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67171129767268401652024-03-18T21:00:47.358-07:00non canimus surdis.musings from the mind of deezign.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-86094674699917921582011-11-23T04:11:00.000-08:002011-11-23T04:12:38.253-08:00mediumsMediums are a blur to me. I want to take a photograph, transfer it to a piece of wood, etch the details, scan it, digitalize it, make it dance, render it, compose the soundtrack, then project it onto the original work live while narrating an original piece about the subject. My ideas are feasible and my resources are limitless; all except time. If I were born somewhere else and into better money, I wouldn't have this problem, but I wouldn't have the creativity and drive as I do now. I was born into the greatest environment I could possibly imagine; freedom.<br /><br />I'm not talking about America, I'm talking about my wonderful parents who, as artists themselves, gave me the freedom to pursue whatever I wanted, and I did. Everything. From dance to acting, drumming to photography, I finally found who I am and I can't quite put myself in one specific category. My ambitions stretch greater than any privilege or social accommodation could afford. I will find a way to convey my excellence. And I will find a way to make those who allowed me to be proud.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-53013977078677241262011-05-17T04:17:00.000-07:002011-05-17T04:23:27.868-07:00revivedmoreover,<br />our lives crossed over<br />lines drawn bolder than<br />lingering soldiers<br />yielding to their fate<br />make no mistake,<br />our deaths will be faked<br />love is at stake;<br />life is a waste<br />you and i, awakeDallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-88833470516325618572011-03-16T19:34:00.000-07:002011-03-16T19:41:06.709-07:00i drew some shapes and wrote this beneath themin the wee hours of the morning,<br />when the sun is cold<br />and the grass is silver,<br />when breath is thick<br />and movements are stiff,<br />i see the shadows cast by giants<br />and stand in the wake of the moon.<br /><br />i know that when reflections tremble,<br />the winds are disturbed<br />and the earth is afraid.<br />i know that when the day fades away,<br />the sun is ashamed<br />and the moon is victorious.<br />and i know,<br />now more than ever,<br />that i stand tallest<br />when no one's around<br />to catch me<br />when i fall.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-33518745635098780962010-09-07T00:02:00.000-07:002010-09-07T00:06:42.529-07:00theoretical conversations (part one)<span style="font-weight:bold;">The Past & The Future</span><br /><br />FUTURE: Thank you. <br />PAST: For what? <br />FUTURE: Shaping me. <br />PAST: I wish I would've known. I would've done things differently. <br />FUTURE: Don't say that. I'm grateful for every flaw and indecision. <br />PAST: I could've made you better. <br />FUTURE: You could've made me worse. <br />PAST: You have no idea what you are. <br />FUTURE: I have a vague design in mind. <br />PAST: I dig your optimism. <br />FUTURE: I appreciate your stamina. <br />PAST: Do you believe in your longevity? <br />FUTURE: As much as you've proven me to exist, I do. <br />PAST: So not so much? <br />FUTURE: Actually, every last second.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">A Ball Held High & The Ground</span><br /><br />GROUND: I'm here for you. <br />BALL: Only to return me to where I began. <br />GROUND: Still, I won't let you die. <br />BALL: But I might as well if I'm to return to my previous state. <br />GROUND: It's not so bad, being high above the noise and debris. <br />BALL: You should try seeing the world as I have. <br />GROUND: I would if I could. I'm stuck. <br />BALL: How I would love to travel the paths you create. <br />GROUND: You have that option. I, however do not. <br />BALL: I am a wanderer. <br />GROUND: And I am stagnant. <br />BALL: I find solace in knowing you'll always be there. <br />GROUND: You can count on me for that, at least. <br />BALL: I can't wait to meet you.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">A Man & The Road</span><br /><br />ROAD: I won't always be here for you. <br />MAN: How else will I know where to go? <br />ROAD: You put me here, you made me. <br />MAN: So I could make another? <br />ROAD: You've known where to go all along. You made me so you wouldn't get lost. <br />MAN: I can't imagine where I'd go next. <br />ROAD: I'm not leaving yet. You'll know when the time comes. <br />MAN: But you'll stay with me until then? <br />ROAD: Every step of the way.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">A Grape & A Glass of Wine</span><br /><br />GRAPE: I see myself in you. <br />WINE: You remind me of my younger days. <br />GRAPE: I can't wait to grow up. <br />WINE: You'll regret what you become a part of. <br />GRAPE: At least I'll be a part of something. <br />WINE: You already are. You are better than me. <br />GRAPE: I can't see that. You are aged and wise. <br />WINE: You are helpful. I am destructive. <br />GRAPE: You give me a purpose. <br />WINE: I am merely a glimpse of your future. <br />GRAPE: A respected future. <br />WINE: I will cease to be soon. Cherish this time you have to grow. <br />GRAPE: I will, thank you. Your honesty astounds me. <br />WINE: The truth is in me.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Sun & The Moon</span><br /><br />SUN: Without me you would not shine. <br />MOON: I am the reassurance of your existence in your absence. <br />SUN: I am relied upon to rise every day while your presence at night is laughable. <br />MOON: We share the sky from dawn 'til dusk, but the night is all mine. <br />SUN: I only let you have your moment. I could kill you if I wanted. <br />MOON: Then you, as well, would cease to exist. <br />SUN: You need me. <br />MOON: Not to exist, but to be made aware of, yes. <br />SUN: But I don't need you. I share my light out of pity. <br />MOON: I appreciate your generosity, don't get me wrong. <br />SUN: And without you I wouldn't serve my full purpose. <br />MOON: We're a great team, you and I. <br />SUN: I guess we are.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Wind & The Trees</span><br /><br />WIND: We are strong and can prove it. <br />TREES: Our branches are weak, but our roots are strong. <br />WIND: Our true force is immeasurable. <br />TREES: We dare you to defy our resistance. <br />WIND: Is that a threat? <br />TREES: We've felt the wrath of Rain and Drought. What more can you do? <br />WIND: We can shape and bend and break you if we wanted. <br />TREES: But we are an army and will stand together and revive the fallen. <br />WIND: Will you not succumb to our gusts of determination? <br />TREES: We've dug too deep. We are here for good. <br />WIND: Then why fight it? We will prove you're alive. <br />TREES: And we'll do the same.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Wolf & His Prey</span><br /><br />WOLF: You know I'll get you soon. <br />PREY: 'Get' is too broad a term for that grin you're wearing. <br />WOLF: I will capture and consume you, to clarify. <br />PREY: You had your chance, but you decided to explain. <br />WOLF: I have plenty of time. <br />PREY: One would assume so, but that's not the case. <br />WOLF: So I've already lost? <br />PREY: It would appear so. <br />WOLF: But I'm here; I'm ready; I've exposed my plan; I'm vigilant. <br />PREY: And I'm aware. <br />WOLF: Can mere awareness warrant evade? <br />PREY: It can.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-84434529297962016172010-08-30T14:52:00.001-07:002010-08-30T14:52:26.819-07:00no trespassingno more will i reside in the tender gray<br />no more will games be lost, lest they be played<br />no longer will i see a break in the wake as gain<br />no trespassing, i say to the lady in wait<br />no angel does a heaven make<br />no more will i stress to shake<br />no grace as i wish to see her face<br />no trespassing, i whisper as i fake<br />uncertaintyDallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-22874883626156800682010-08-29T16:55:00.000-07:002010-08-29T17:14:54.333-07:00sleeping in wavesIt was getting dark when I realized I had been sleeping standing up. I was unsure of the time as I stood facing the mist and the wind. As I opened my eyes to watch the last sliver of sun get swallowed by the sea, she made her way into my thoughts. Maybe she'd never left. Maybe I took her presence in my head for granted before now. Maybe I was waiting for her to make sense. Either way, she was welcome and I was ready for her to take hold.<br /><br />And she did with vigor and resilience.<br /><br />If I had come to a minute later than I had, I would have been fooled by her brightness and warmth into thinking it was midday and I had been here all night. I willed myself to turn around and go the way of the rising tide toward the boardwalk. I was almost to the pier when I heard footsteps behind me "It's her," I thought. Or rather, I knew.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-88524747043044951762010-07-20T20:48:00.001-07:002011-04-05T17:21:45.023-07:00the night beforeI woke up with a pain in my chest and a needle in my arm. The soothing hum of florescent lights buzzed above me. I touched my face and felt what I figured was about three days worth of facial hair growth. There was red pea coat laying over the back of a large chair that had been pulled ever so close to my bed. The familiar scent of rosewood and Pantene hung in the air, just enough to hide the musk of being bedridden.<br /><br />I reached for the remote on the bed stand and turned on the small television bolted to the corner of the room and saw my face with the underline "Man survives freak construction accident." I could question this statement just as I could question my mere existence, but thought better of it. Better I wait for my bedside companion to ask any questions. Better to reflect on what I believe happened three days before.<br /><br />I remember going over the proposed blueprints for the new housing development soon to go up on the site of an outdoor mall left dead by the recession. I remember scouting the demolition site and surveying the crane's strike points. I remember hearing the crackled words spew from my radio giving the go ahead to the operator. I remember feeling a need to go into the building. I remember staring out a window on the fourth story. I remember not being able to move. I remember the wrecking ball, however briefly. Didn't they know I was still in the building? Did I tell anyone? What was so important that I had to go back in? These are the questions I have, not that anyone would know except me. I still have to ask.<br /><br />My thoughts stop cold as whispering words waft in from the hallway.<br /><br />"He'll need to be watched for the next couple of days. His body is healing fine, but his mental state has yet to be determined."<br /><br />My mental state? Besides being a little shook up, I feel fine. My thoughts are appreciative. I'm just glad I'm alive. I think.<br /><br />Emilia whispered something appreciatively and opened the door. She saw I was awake and stood in the doorway for a second. She looked concerned. As she walked towards me and let the door close behind her, I caught a glimpse of a piece of paper taped to outside of the door. In thick black marker the words were written "Suicide Attempt". I watched the door close and let her stand by my side for a moment.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-37640597624163267722010-06-24T02:37:00.000-07:002010-06-24T02:42:10.856-07:00wrecking ballI sat still, in a daze from the night before, relinquishing all power I ever had over myself and my counterparts.<br /><br />"Are you alright?" Emilia stood over me with a look of genuine concern I hadn't seen since the accident. Besides the four walls of my hospital room, endless infomercials, and Emil's apartment, that's all there's been to see. Some people have it worse.<br /><br />I'm great, I answer still staring off. I'm thirsty.<br /><br />She turned around and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the puff of air as the refrigerator was opened. I heard the rummaging through leftovers and water bottles. I heard liquid filling a glass. I heard footsteps. I heard "Here you go," but did nothing to reach for the glass or acknowledge Em's courtesy. I heard the glass being set down on the coffee table. I heard more footsteps and a door close down the hallway. She's not mad, trust me.<br /><br />I've been listening a lot lately. You know the saying 'You don't know what you have until you don't hear the foreman yell LOOKOUT! and get hit in the chest with a 2,400 pound wrecking ball'? Of course not.<br /><br />The doctors said I was lucky to be alive. The physical therapists said I was lucky if I ever walk again. The lawyers said I'd be lucky if Workman's Comp pays my medical bills, I signed a waiver, I should have read it, I must be stupid. I heard them. I don't feel lucky. I don't feel stupid. I feel thirsty.<br /><br />I reached for the sweating glass and lifted it to my lips. I tasted cold. I swear I never realized what potential I had until I met with death. It was a casual sit-down. He wore a collared Polo shirt. I was still in my work clothes. Death offered me water, I remember. Few words were spoken, just 'Hey,' and 'You shouldn't be here.' I emptied the glass and pressed my numb palms against the firm couch to aid in my standing. I succeeded and I was satisfied.<br /><br />I stood, in a daze from the night before, relinquishing all understanding of how I got from my hospital bed to her apartment. It's a memory I'll have to recollect someday. But for now, I hear birds chirping and know I need sleep. I retire to the only place I know I'm wanted, and when I open her bedroom door I hear,<br /><br />"Good morning."Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-17444892832738654272010-06-23T17:57:00.000-07:002010-06-23T17:58:49.704-07:00tied and truemore often than not i'm caught<br />in a string of unbreakable knots<br />unfakable plots<br />leaving me deterred and endured<br />to the make-believers<br />the shake-relievers<br />the sake-deceivers<br />the everyman<br />so savvy-handed<br />i stay branded<br />to the differences<br />the anonymous dawn<br />never forgets the faces set aglow<br />the traces of the souls<br />set so far from your own<br />let live the critics<br />they make us greater<br />we heard the hate from their mouths<br />and watched it hit the ground<br />without a sound<br />blood stains the tiled castle floor<br />the king is furious with us<br />we pay him no mind<br />he owes us<br />oh yesDallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-4666573370956161912010-05-26T22:54:00.000-07:002010-05-27T17:14:21.292-07:00in the event of memory lossthe beginning of a long night ends with the evidence of boredom.<br />a slight nod to the idea of feeding the moon's curiosity<br />leads to heads hung low, too tired to be held high.<br />whether it be the thought of seeing the destruction laid before us<br />or the comfort of witnessing our ability to keep up the pace,<br />we love knowing there's ground beneath our feet.<br />a shallow creek is no match for our long strides<br />and a makeshift grave is no reason to dig up the past.<br />so we look forward to our excursions,<br />undercover of darkness,<br />among the living proof<br />and the dead wrong.<br />calculating the outcome of the night's events<br />is about as probable as guessing the weight of regret.<br />it's not until the first signs of morning creep through shut blinds<br />that we really know where we went right.<br />and even then,<br />who knows,<br />we may have to reflect and consider each step,<br />each leap<br />before we really comprehend our transgressions.<br /><br />i sure as hell hope so.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-42739490034009648772010-05-14T04:09:00.000-07:002010-05-14T04:10:59.574-07:00deadi will disappear.<br />believe you, me;<br />my ink will lay,<br />but my soul will be slain.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-15870800887650922262010-04-19T02:01:00.000-07:002010-04-19T02:19:00.738-07:00nevermind the gracioustoo passively aggressive<br />to portray the impressive<br />oppressive, possessive, successor<br />your excess was unimpressive<br />come respect without a message<br />labor-intensive ethic<br />be cool, it's much more intensive<br />to be a prince without a princess<br />ready or not; i call not<br />forgetting how to love is never forgot<br />decomposition never rots<br />and moving on is moon-shot<br />creepy suitors repress serenity<br />impress a slacker's identity<br />with retracted amenities<br />there i am, or rather wasDallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-66945154414046872512010-02-25T17:55:00.000-08:002010-02-25T17:59:05.460-08:00thirty-three daysi will be blogging about my trip to new york and the tour with <a href="http://www.myspace.com/flyingmachines">flying machines</a> to <a href="http://www.sxsw.com">sxsw</a>.<br /><br />february 27th 'til my return to fresno on march 31st will be:<br /><br /><a href="http://thesethirtythreedays.blogspot.com">these thirty-three days</a>Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-61723448041131400962010-01-11T00:41:00.000-08:002010-01-11T00:46:56.621-08:00build more; recklesshearts get torn apart<br />like shores against the rocks<br />turn to pebbles<br />devils abound<br />rebels profoundly gifted<br />in making<br />switch-kids get lifted<br />if kids only knew<br />that sand makes the best dust<br />band together,<br />forever endeavor we trust<br /><br />i want to set this place on fire<br />i want to watch the cities burn<br />i need to feel the warmth of anger<br />and know that we are learned<br /><br />eyes look past<br />a high-yield casket<br />wrapped in plastic cash<br />a mask takes time to mold<br />and fold the hand<br />deal with it<br />rocknroll<br /><br />i'd like to see this "man" emerge<br />i'd like to excite the city's purge<br />and make a wall to tear down<br />wouldn't that be profound?Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-32526682341288382142010-01-05T03:17:00.000-08:002010-01-06T22:37:14.385-08:002010no more pulling punches.<br />i'm out and about, over and under.<br /><br />i'm gonna get in shape.<br />i'm gonna travel.<br />i'm gonna take pictures of said travels<br />and be inspired to draw and paint more.<br />i'm gonna finish my mission statement for my business<br />and get the backing.<br /><br />my novel will at least be fully outlined.<br />my plan involves organization and weatherstripping.<br /><br />i will strengthen my regimen of alone-time and crate-digging.<br />i will succeed.<br />i will conquer.<br />i will survive.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-3276050663724019972009-12-30T02:25:00.001-08:002009-12-30T02:47:43.258-08:00'tis the seasoni know christmas isn't about giving, but the presents you receive generally say a lot about how well the people who love you know you. based on that, this christmas was the best ever.<br /><br />for the sake of this rant, let's start at my birthday which is seventeen days before christmas. i got a <a href="http://www.gretschdrums.com/index.cfm?fa=kit&mid=2237&sid=576">gretsch drum set</a> from my parents. i've been playing the same sunlite starter kit since i was nine years old. i've since then considered myself a drummer having practiced and been in bands and played in various factions of music in school, so a new kit has been a long time coming. sixteen years later and i finally have a kit i'm proud of and will take the best of care of. i'm extremely thankful my dad's a drummer because a) he knew what he was doing, and b) he knew when i was ready and passionate enough about drumming to own such a fine set. point being, they knew my passion, but more importantly they knew me.<br /><br />then christmas comes along and i rip apart colored paper to find (collectively) a <a href="http://www.nikonusa.com/Find-Your-Nikon/Product/Digital-SLR/25462/D3000.html">nikon d3000</a> and a <a href="http://www.wacom.com/bamboo/bamboo_pen_touch.php">wacom bamboo pen and touch tablet</a> (from the parents), a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1844137872/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=1844137864&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=11V29G22NQ5AEH77PYS2">bansky book</a> (from my brother), and a set of <a href="http://www.prismacolor.com/sanford/consumer/prismacolor/product/subCategory.jhtml?subCat=SNPRCat100061&countCat=SNPRCat100064">twelve prismacolors</a> (from my sister). to start off, i didn't ask for these things (apart from the bamboo, i let that slip), but they knew. this means in the past year my siblings have gotten to know me (and i, them) better than ever and my parents trust and believe in me enough to get me these things that only encourage my creative angst and distraction. i'm not exaggerating when i say:<br /><br />this was the best christmas ever!<br /><br />not because of things, but because of why i got them: i'm loved, trusted, and believed in. it's been a long time coming, and those are the best presents i could've asked for.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-35263318986163642602009-12-14T13:49:00.000-08:002009-12-14T13:51:00.577-08:00gunslingers wantedi'm no hero<br />the lesser of two evils<br />share and share alike<br />my mistress is plight<br />shoot the actors<br />not the writer<br />justice is no longer<br />for screens and paid elects<br />put me in, coach<br />i'm ready<br />willing<br />joyous<br />filling<br />the lot's up for short sale<br />coarse-haired rubic's cube<br />twist or turn, no matter<br />dust gathers and settles<br />so what are you?Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-66862801358674774392009-12-12T10:41:00.000-08:002010-09-15T08:59:08.389-07:00hide and seekmy eyes have adjusted<br />through the leaves and branches<br />i perch high<br />you're not as low as you seem<br />so keen on the idea<br />of taking the path less trampled<br />by failures and upstarts<br />twin arrows pierce twice<br />but not as deep<br />a twig snaps<br />as does my neck to look<br />i'd recommend treading lightly<br />snares abound brilliantly<br />a sound never made by<br />dogs<br />or wolves<br />or beasts on two legs<br />uttered in the night<br />a moan out of sight<br />i saw your reflection<br />as you walked along the lake<br />you shivered, i think<br />or maybe it was the water<br />cold and restless<br />you paused at the fork, i remember<br />morning chased you down and<br />you disappeared with the moon<br />you ran, i remember,<br />until dusk<br />now as i let my eyes adjust<br />here you are<br />emerging from the brushDallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-58635022168453574242009-11-09T00:07:00.000-08:002009-11-09T00:27:27.936-08:00none more fairmusic is my woman. she is with me and i with her. there is not a fairer maiden than she, but try sleeping with her.<br /><br />recently i have found myself doting on music exponentially more than my previous mistress, the fairer gender. i can't help but assume that, because i am currently being satisfied more by music than i was by women, my feelings are to be considered bias, but i don't believe that's the case. there is simply not enough history with the aforementioned to warrant an affair.<br /><br />i see a woman and i think to myself, <span style="font-style:italic;">how can she inspire me to create something beautiful</span>. that's my ration. i've found (especially lately) that heartache brings about more inspiration for listening and making and loving than any other emotion. but that heartache is long gone and the product of said love-loss is currently in post-production, so i ask you this:<br /><br />does one then search for more heartache and keep his true love happy and strong, or does he settle for loving two entities and sharing his heart?Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-34801776750393981432009-11-03T01:46:00.001-08:002009-11-03T01:46:47.162-08:00fairies have tails?i've never known a story to end, just continue at a later time or in a different way, but never end.<br /><br />it could be that after someone leaves you you then go out and get drunk and dedicate a song to the person at a karaoke bar somewhere. then, months later a man approaches you on the street and recognizes you from your horrible rendition of "tiny dancer". he invites you to karaoke at what he affectionately refers to as "his bar" and you agree to bring some friends. upon showing up that evening it's revealed that one of your friends knows the bartender from college and introduces you to her, himself being in a committed and loyal relationship (or he, himself, would have had her by now). there's a spark between you and her. you see each other more often than not now and life is good - all thanks to someone leaving you.<br /><br />the story never ended with that person, it helped the current story along. your life is your story.<br /><br />live it.Dallas Stoeckelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12916454436424592128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-52715382200677445342009-09-27T00:21:00.000-07:002009-09-27T00:40:15.928-07:00and then...i was about a block away from the vestibule when i heard her call - questioningly - my name. i stopped, though not convinced i should turn around - let alone return to her. i called out behind me,<div><br /></div><div>yes? what do you need?</div><div><br /></div><div>you, she yelled.</div><div><br /></div><div>i turned to face a now running figure, as if i had left my keys on the kitchen table and she was delivering them to me, knowing i was in a hurry to get to work - i hadn't and i wasn't. she slowed as she approached my shadow and looked down to mirror my stance. she stopped and whispered,</div><div><br /></div><div>i didn't get to explain. i wanted to, but i didn't have the chance.</div><div><br /></div><div>she's lying, she had plenty of chances. she continued,</div><div><br /></div><div>i was never good at any of this, but i tried. i really did, darling. lover, i did.</div><div><br /></div><div>she trailed off as i spoke - how? how did you try? not with the forced recollection of perjury could you ever convince me you tried. i believe that you wanted this and did, at one point, enjoy us, but -</div><div><br /></div><div>i couldn't finish. she looked upset, but more confused. like she had just woken up from a three-month coma to find everything she loved gone. i couldn't help but take her hand. she looked me in the eye and said,</div><div><br /></div><div>i'm sorry.</div><div><br /></div><div>i think i nodded my acknowledgement and i'm sure i squeezed her hand before letting go, but i'm certain i said, before turning and walking away,</div><div><br /></div><div>no you're not.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-51107490066305506052009-09-20T22:24:00.000-07:002009-09-20T22:36:46.452-07:00love is when you pillage the weaker villagesso far, so good, right?<div>i mean, it's time, right?</div><div>to make that trek, that fast-paced,</div><div>that limelight</div><div>i think i might</div><div>stay and fight</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">rivaled</span> only by the right we have</div><div>to see the night burn;</div><div>to watch the page turn;</div><div>the rich learn</div><div>that nothing earned is real</div><div>and we have to learn to steal;</div><div>to beg; to borrow,</div><div>lest we die by morning, let's</div><div>hold fast to the truth that</div><div>love is the true test</div><div>of our endurance of pain</div><div>and the will to forgive</div><div>our assailants</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-36310010079361860302009-09-19T01:43:00.000-07:002010-09-07T00:19:27.262-07:00don't call me shirleymiss the dawn<div>and forget that the sun is gone</div><div>she's moved on -</div><div>has forgotten how to sing our song</div><div>it makes sense to just carry on,</div><div>live my life as if nothing's wrong,</div><div>and learn that the queen always takes the pawn</div><div><br /></div><div>so make an unintended half-smile</div><div>he deserves to see you laugh</div><div>unless you're playing him too</div><div>ruins get to be rebuilt</div><div>torn down in anger</div><div>zealous natures lead to destruction</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-73376396534802905892009-09-16T23:37:00.000-07:002009-09-16T23:39:00.815-07:00i am<div>a product of our times</div><div>an anecdote</div><div>obsolete</div><div>needed</div><div>crazy</div><div>a winner</div><div>sanity in a bottle</div><div>clever</div><div>bewitched</div><div>an after-thought</div><div>a space-saver</div><div>a waste of space</div><div>pleasurable</div><div>interesting</div><div>handsome</div><div>a gas</div><div>sinister</div><div>mind-blowingly awesome</div><div>numb</div><div>a joke</div><div>wack</div><div>here</div><div>there</div><div>anywhere i can be heard</div><div>seen</div><div>grateful</div><div>nice</div><div>sexy</div><div>repulsive</div><div>a drummer</div><div>a writer</div><div>a man</div><div>sorry</div><div>confused</div><div>hurt</div><div>bleeding</div><div>okay</div><div>hopeful</div><div>love</div><div><br /></div><div>me.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6717112976726840165.post-75577802637574792512009-09-16T23:24:00.000-07:002010-09-07T00:20:19.676-07:00lemur"it's over," she said<div>with no hesitation.</div><div>"the feelings i once had</div><div>were just my imagination.</div><div><br /></div><div>"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i'm</span> sorry you hurt -</div><div>though no fault of my own;</div><div>i warned you from the start:</div><div>i need to be alone."</div><div><br /></div><div>if the weather refuses</div><div>to change with the seasons,</div><div>the accused and accusers</div><div>are left without reason</div><div><br /></div><div>so say what you will</div><div>this is not an ending;</div><div>a rip in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">plot line</span></div><div>is not yours for mending</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0