that's all she wrote, folks.

an ode

in my last post i pondered the absence of feelings.

the weather now matches my mood.

cold, grey, unsettlingly lonesome.

now that i am alone, all i have are my feelings.

productivity has come to a halt, motivation abruptly cut off.

a familiar face, this place of depression.

like an old friend at a new reunion.

i ponder now the fear and guilt.

i wonder how to chase them off.

the vices are gone for to lean on no more.

the days have gone down between sheets underground.

withering, withering away.

for the longest while these past few weeks, i have found that i do not seem to have the ability to feel. i dont really know what it is. i just haven't been able to react to upsetting events with any feeling. it is as if i am too calloused to react. what does that mean?

when one door closes, another door opens

the falcon may have been destroyed, but im not upset.

i have seen perfection, leastways as close to perfection as is possible.

i have seen majesty unparalleled, been mystified by forces unseen.

i have felt all that is real, and reveled in its glory.

i have felt what it is to be alive, to rise above the world and call out far beyond.

i have heard the words of gods, echoes on the breeze.

i have heard the tales of conquest, of exploration and discovery.

the falcon may have been destroyed, but she blossoms like a flower.

what'dyou mean the falcon needs a new hyperdrive?!

sometimes you’ve gotta take the good with the bad, and in the last few days, there’s been more good than bad. things aren’t great in life right now, by any means; financially shit is rough, academically, shit is rough too. the upside to all of this is that for the first time in a long time, i can say i feel happy about life. jaspers just released our first cd last thursday. it was fucking magical. lee came down from atlanta and opened the show at cdu, i played with robby in sticks and twine for the second act, and jaspers’ set was bar-none one of the best we have ever played. like i said, fucking magical. this past weekend we toured to jacksonville and gainesville with the stillmen, and, i must say, for the weekend at the beginning of spring break, the turn outs and receptions were pretty choice. enter the bad. on the way to titusville from gainesville, taking the turnpike, fifty miles out of orlando, the falcon (read; my car) broke down. i think the hyperdrive is fucked (read; i think it’s the timing belt), and that isn’t too savory a thing to happen. but hey, it aint a tour unless something goes awry, right? anyway, after that setback, i find myself sitting in st. cloud with jerms waiting on some dinner before heading down to the keys for the next few days. i couldn’t be more stoked for this, and ill be damned if i let my transportation problems get me down now. things should be on the up and up, im hoping for the other parts of life, you know, the ladies.

i dont know what im doing anymore. i mean, i know what im doing, but i dont know what to do. d'you know what i mean? it's like my life has got writer's block or something, and it's eating at me like carrion fowl picks apart the dead. in some aspects, everything is wonderful, but then, there's this hole that just keeps getting bigger, deeper, darker. what do you do to fix that? where do you turn? i know what i want. i want the notes on the page to come alive, but i need someone to help me play the chords, the harmonies. how'd i let the cigarettes pile up? when did the empty bottles fill up the room? and when did the coffee start putting me to sleep?

i saw you out there in the sunshine on saturday, grandpa.