Lousy Musings of a Star-Studded Cowboy

 Love never felt as good as when you said it. Everything new is something different, the biggest, the most I’ve ever experienced. So raw, so intense. But with you, it’s true. I never felt this way. Love is made new each time, by you cans me. It’s not the same because we’re not the same. It’s a sentiment that might be made from my naiveté. And I’m fine with that.

 Dreams for the dreamer. Hold on to the light and dream all your dreams.

 I am no longer ruthless. I shall be a kinder and gentler man. Even when things are so unbelievably stupid and undeserving of my perfection. Which is a lot of the time. Most of the time even. 

 Invited in much too unlikely, but slided through the half-open door. Half brained but quick wit it, and dug a hole with clawed hands. A dog backed against the corner. Opened the sliver of a smile, dancing tenderly in the shadows of the room. The nest of crows was shaken down by the aging and hot tempered neighbor. It was a murderous laugh that slipped through painful, charred gasps. Fear replaced by Courage replaced by Fear and unturned again. Constantly changing but never unmade. At times hiding in the light while stretching within the darkness. Much too timid to remember yesterday tomorrow. No more. No more hiding. Today, I take the stage.

Call on me and I’ll be there. That’s just who we are. Sometimes, most times I guess, you don’t call. But I’m there. It’s simple, and maybe that’s why things are the way they are. Somehow, the elephant in the room looks so small when you learn to ignore it.

It’s difficult to confront all of it but there are times when you’re forced to. You can’t just roll with the punches but you gotta rock with them too. Not everything boils down to Efficiency, however, disregarding efficiency tends to make things more efficient. The world is funny like that.  Last night I opened the pages of my high school yearbook instead of getting my much needed rest in preparation for my early morning college classes. I cried. There wasn’t any sobbing, but I couldn’t stop the tears that seemed to eagerly escape. Even through my laughter from reminders of sweet but mostly stupid memories, the tears leapt. Maybe there was an underlying feeling of sadness even in the happiest of my recollection, maybe it was all just catharsis. I don’t know which I should want to choose to believe. Life is funny like that.  All that I faced, all that I left unsaid, and I made it to my classes okay. Perhaps not as good as I could have been, but I was okay. When you’re in the fa...

 Do whatever you want at this point. I’m the lone wolf. I’m dangerous. Out on a hunt looking big, rough, and dangerous. The big bad wolf never needed nobody. He likes being by himself. That’s all he knows. It’s what he, it’s what he wants. 

 Show me that you love me or care or any sign of movement in my life. But I’ll be there anyway. That’s the fault of myself. No matter what you do I try to get closer to you. I’m the one hurting and I’m the one hurting myself. It’s always easier to say that it is all my fault. 

 Each day the mission clearer and clearer. Still. Steps at a time. Walking again and again. Everything in its right place.

 A giant step or a thousand on all fours.

 I tried every night. I realized it all started with I. Well, it’s mostly just I. “I detest all notions of I!” That lyric plays in my head a lot recently. No doubt why. 

I came to form as the jagged edges of a jack-knife. I was the first born prick of a porcupine’s quill. I am the unwritten words left printed in his will. My danger now hides within itself, the repetitive growth of Russian nesting dolls. I can’t remember what I said about perseverance. 

 Terrorized and fear in your eyes, take me down to paralyze the feelings that started to bloom from your heart tear that down swallow that frown and crown the realizations that make you start

 I’m struggling against myself each and every day. These are trying times but I don’t feel as if I’m truly trying. My greatest battle is between me and my want to lay on my bed and do everything but anything. “Greatest.” That sounds anything but. Nothingness is something I feel a lot of these days.

 Eyes of steel take me down again. There was something special about the way in which they completely dismissed me and utterly broke me apart. It’s hard to collect the lost pieces of a puzzle, but you try to make it work, even when you know it doesn’t fit the same.

 And the first and the first and the first and the first and the first kept ringing in my mind. I knew in my heart the second I felt it that it was passed down to me, and I will have to make it mine. No freedom will come for the rotations of the ends of the ends of the ends of the ends to the ends of the ends of the ends of the ends of the ends.

 Watering my seeds.

I tried to reject the world outside of me. To this day, I’m still learning that I’m a part of it, which makes it a part of me. Even if it’s just a little. So much rejecting and repressing, but there’s joy in holding on and running towards. I’m still running. There’s a good chance I’ll always run. But I’m changing my direction now. 

 I’ve been waiting on the Big Bloom but it’s inside of me. I’m the catalyst to make it all happen. The only one who can make me see the beauty of it all is me.

There is no loss so paralyzing, no ending so final. All of my life has felt like an exercise in perseverance and endurance. And so I keep going. 

I loved my hair. I still do. It’s one of my physical features I feel the least insecure about and there’s some measure of pride there. Sure it was difficult to maintain it, and to keep it in a state that I liked, but I think that was part of it. I let it grew long and wild, and for as much as I interfered, it danced wildly with freedom. I love my hair. I had to cut it all off. Something I said in the past but need to be reminded of: “This is the beginning of the building of the new self.” Even what I love about myself can be destroyed and rebuilt.  I am more than the things that make up me. My hair will grow again, and so will I.

 I’ve put my brain in a jar and shivered off the chills from my bones. I’ve made the big decision, and this time I’m gonna stick with it. No mirrors, no egos. Time to find out what’s left.

 Loved you for everything you were and all the things you weren’t. That’s what you meant to me.

I wasn’t the greatest. I was never Mr. Top of The World or Mr. Five for Five. I wasn't even anything special or unique. But I was real. I’m still real. I’m real.

 I don’t know how drunk I am but there are two important facts that I need to get off my chest. Love is real. Love is important. Everything else is just everything Else. These two statements are what the world revolves around.

 I'm looking and looking at you, but you're not really seeing me. Sometimes life is so sad that you laugh a little. It's a bitter, shame-filled laugh, but it's a laugh nonetheless. In your gaze, you try to make me so small that I turn invisible, but I'm really here. I've BEEN here. One day, we'll both go our separate ways, maybe then, even if just for a second, you'll turn your head and *almost* see me.

 It both scares and scars me. I wear it proudly. The pain feels so sweet, so familiar that it’s hard not to take comfort from it. But it’s not me. I can’t let it define me. 

You count the stars, I count the freckles on your smiling face.   I didn’t want to stop until both of us ran out of nice things to say. 

 Loving something requires the strength to hold onto it when it’s not even. But I’ve been learning that you also need the wisdom to know when to let go. When my grip was so tight that I bled, I had my realization. It’s my blood. My sacrifice was to grow later, but I only lost and lost. You didn’t care. It wasn’t yours. It was my blood. I had to let go.

 I was gonna lie but I felt too bad. I’m still just as pathetic.  (I’m still seeking for the meaning of goodness and what it takes to be alive.)