Writes..."What I Want...In 36 Bars"

"tired of fuckin' around on some other shit…
sick of the same b.s. where the things that i get…
i've deemed just as crappy as the things that i shit…
dropping kids at the pool, er, a bathroom toilet…
i've already referenced shit three times; aww, fuck it…
my mood is shitty; thus, words an asshole would spit…
if it dumped on paper; an explosion of shit…
sprayed on a page, it's lasting; so one not forget…
my heart scripted in brown's nasty, so let me quit…
this thought's on what i want; i'm off the point of it…
a guide on what i need to do for getting it…
like i said before, i've been on some other shit…

let me start with the "cliff notes" version of my side…
i feel i must vent, so through writing i'll confide…
i've never asked for shit and i've not been denied…
'cause i've tended to get what i've sought when i've tried…
but the thing i wanted the most i never tried…
the release of my seed when her legs were spread wide…
a mixture of the two of us growing inside…
see, i want kids but i've found tunes already tied…
thus, my only wish for this life has been denied…
me as a father, a couple kids at my side… 
ones that i've fathered; lacking's proves i'm justified…
having no offspring reason enough to decide…

i can no longer let those chicks slide anymore…

ones with kids, still deciding if they want any more…
"fixed" 'til i've broken them at their maternal core…
and they realize 'cause of me they want to have more…
through mine she'd birth a fifth, she's already got four…
all girls: a set of twins ten, one seven, one four…
even if her words ring true, my heart does implore…
for me to move on 'cause i've heard that shit before…
why take a chance on a chick who's already bore…
more fruit than the local corner grocery store…
thirty-three means i can't compromise anymore…
thirty-three means i can't waste my time anymore…"

Writes..."The Pursuit Of Happ-"B"-ness"

"...life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness..." - thomas jefferson

"those are our unalienable rights, right?

so my most recent ex texts me asking if i'm happier now that we're no longer together. i guess that's a fair question; i mean it's definitely one i can easily answer. "no, not really", i tell her; responding as fast as it takes me to type out the words. but then my text goes unanswered. i don't know what she was expecting me to say; perhaps that i found our breakup to be a cause of great celebration for me or that i derived some sort of pleasure in ending our relationship. it wasn't…and i didn't…but my feelings on there no longer being an "us" don't matter because the truth is neither sentiment is particularly relevant towards my response. she asked if i am happier now and i answered honestly: i'm not happy at all, haven't been in a long time and while we were together she hadn't changed that…but i hadn't really expected her to.

not that any of that was her fault; my point is i used to believe differently: that i would meet a woman who would change my outlook on life or at least make me want to fake it better. and maybe, just maybe, i don't know, turn my perpetual frown upside down. but i've learned through living that one's happiness comes from within. so whether or not i end up happy will be due to my own actions. i guess what i'm saying is the determination of my "happiness" will come from me and not from other people. 

my "unhappiness", however, remains a different story."

Writes..."An Od"E""

“it’s in the dark of night, whilst laying in my bed,

the most insightful notions swirl ‘round in my head…

profound; i reflect at times i should be asleep,

i’ve found in thinking of her, thoughts are always deep…

and i'll admit to thinking about her a lot;

perhaps more than i should, considering she’s not…

mine, yet i’d never view her as a possession,

‘though i wish she were is my averse confession…

i'm hesitant to profess the feelings i own…

they remain hidden from her; a secret unknown…

thus i'm forced to contemplate while under cover;

how she’ll know my heart without knowing i love her?

'cept she knows, just views my words in another sense…

merely a phrase from a friend, she sees no difference…

my "i love you" isn’t one really meaning love,

at least not from the one i have loving thoughts of…

am i wrong to believe what i say should mean more,

especially when she’s heard “i love you” before?

from those who whispered it sweetly into her ears;

and as both proved empty, they’d reduced her to tears…

but never mine, i understand before i speak,

when they come from me, they’re three words truly unique…

‘though the “more” may be more difficult to explain,

it means when others fade away, that we'll still remain…

having been a constant since the day we first met,

i’ll always be by her side so she not forget;

that even when she can’t see it, in someone’s eyes,

she’s more beautiful than even she does realize…

i’ve observed the striking face and the gorgeous smile;

seen she’s flawless with her clothes, her make-up, her hairstyle…

and i appreciate every part as a whole,

but find her best feature to be her caring soul…

sometimes i wonder exactly how she sees me…

just as her friend? well, our friendship happens to be,

a most valuable gift to be able to claim…

ask her and i’m sure that she will tell you the same…

yet we're destined for more, at least i’ve always felt,

even if the chances of an “us” have seemed svelte…

but that idea concealed means i'm not understood;

so, like i said, i think ‘bout her more than i should…

times when i imagine she’s prone under a sheet…

dead to the world, for two or three hours complete…

and dreaming lovely dreams of the most wondrous kind;

ones that prove the day's stresses have been left behind…

like the one where she's wearing a white dress that flows,   

her hands rest on her arms as the wind gently blows…

brown eyes; a witness to the most amazing view:

a beach of white sand leading to the ocean blue…

and maybe, just maybe, she’s placed me in a scene…

where we, together, share a moment that’s serene;

peaceful; calm; a setting we deem intimate bliss…

concluding nothing before's been better than this…

no one, with whom she or i had spent any time,

had produced an ambience for us as sublime…

in my vision, ardor’s finally by my side;

proof that when true love is real, it won’t be denied…

but i know that's just wishful thinking on my part…

the results of evicting what lives in one's heart…

this ode penned is emotion settled on a page;

and all sentiment: payment of a lover’s wage…

these are the thoughts in a moonlit room i conceive;

praying when morning comes what she reads she'll believe… 

i hope that i won't discover my words betray,

a man who knows love through what his mouth wouldn't say…”

Presents..."From This Moment On" by Shania Twain

"i have a long history with this song; i'll just state that when i first heard it i recognized it as exactly what i would want to say to my bride at the altar."

"(i do swear that i'll always be there. i'd give anything
and everything and i will always care. through weakness
and strength, happiness and sorrow, for better, for worse,
i will love you with every beat of my heart.)

from this moment life has begun
from this moment you are the one
right beside you is where i belong
from this moment on

from this moment i have been blessed
i live only for your happiness
and for your love i'd give my last breath
from this moment on

i give my hand to you with all my heart
can't wait to live my life with you, can't wait to start
you and i will never be apart
my dreams came true because of you

from this moment as long as i live
i will love you, i promise you this
there is nothing i wouldn't give
from this moment on

you're the reason i believe in love
and you're the answer to my prayers from up above
all we need is just the two of us
my dreams came true because of you

from this moment as long as i live
i will love you, i promise you this
there is nothing i wouldn't give
from this moment
i will love you as long as i live
from this moment on"

Writes..."Frozen"

"an image of she and i cannot be erased,
yet i've tried to forget every intimate scene...
like times she begged hands of mine be gently placed...
on her neck, then her shoulders, then the space between...

her heaving chest held a heart once broken-hearted...
that required a delicate pass o'er each breast...
i sensed pain in her when my fingers had departed...
at least that's what the sounds she made did suggest...

so i ensured to keep my touch on her until…
the fear of a separation of us was done…
thus, a hand stayed behind her so she’s closer still,
though we'd stood so close, we'd almost been one…

as an picture of love, a still frozen in time,
a sight labeled as desire personified…
right now i close my eyes only to find that i’m…
unable to overlook tender feelings inside…”

Presents..."Juggernauts" by Slaughterhouse

"this is my song. i'd call it a new anthem or a cut on the soundtrack of my life but i won't. all i'll say is i can't stop listening to it. plus, for all those bulls fans in the 90's, you recognize the sample from jump. "6'6'' from north carolina...michael...you know the rest.""

"[verse 1: royce da 5'9"]
hey, we ain’t really gotta keep going through this
if anybody wanna rap circles 'round you, my nigga, we 'bout to do it
you about that bitch, dough, and that swag, that’s it
let me talk about us, we about that bitch, dough and that swag
we about that sitting on that ave
and because we sitting on that ave
we about that pistol in that bag
we about that fist fight, only after we grab a fist full of that cash
we about that get right, what you have perceived the least but not last
we are the sickest scribbling with that pen, that pencil and that pad
and y'all talking this and that, so what
my click can wrap my dough up
now picture that, i write the sloppiest verses down you seen
i hand it in for green
so i can buy all of my bitches bags with the stacks
and call the cash chicken scratch
slaughter baby we just getting warm
y'all ain't fucking nothing we can't fuck
y'all ain't driving nothing we can't drive
if we can't afford it we just take yours
see ya'll little niggas just misinformed
shady blew up, took the game, turn around
and ten years later he gave it to the

[hook x2: eminem]
juggernauts of this rap shit (7x)
like it or not

[verse 2: crooked i]
some of you niggas is bitches too, you rocking panties, huh
sit down when you pissing too, you niggas trannies, huh
what you stand for is beneath me, you understand me, huh
niggas get x'd like the professor and juggernauts running our family, huh
homie i was making checks before that martin margiela
and niggas was rocking avirex, now hot rappers date my ex-s
and i'm still rated x, stick my dick so far in a bitch's throat
it'll come out the other side and turn a blowjob into anal sex
ain’t no next, cause i got now until i decide to to bow, avow your style
it ain’t gonna mean a thang cause i came to bring the pain like tical
nigga, now, we're the juggernauts to this rap shit
bust a shot with ya ratchet
when suckas dropping that whack shit

[verse 3: joell ortiz]

ask them hood niggas if i hug the block
ask these broads if i slide on that glove and uppercut that box
man i come from the roughest so if i come up in the spot
and you bugging i’m tellin you suckas watch, i’m a take off that fucking watch
and scratch a, bitch, i'll be on a nigga ear, scream juggernaut
he hot, that don’t mean that he nice, y'all get that confused a lot
2pac, i don’t sacrifice what i write for the newest drop
big pop, us big boys still clean down to the socks
then sprinkle a little big l on top
i’m what the fuck you got, put porter rock
with a pen and eminem as a friend i’m touching this entenmanns
that’s cake, you little boys don’t get it so listen let’s make amends
we don’t wanna be bullies, y’all wanna get beat up
so lift your knees up and start running
or put your knees down on the ground and bow cause we the

[hook x2]

[verse 4: joe budden]
look, it's house gang on that shady street
chill, y'all already know the address
where the eulogy's said, so they assuming he's dead
before that body hit that bag yet
be face to face with them slugs
sad cause my goons ain’t load that mag yet
in the bottom of the ocean floating
they hoping they gon find your ass with that drag net (nah)
(blat, blat, blat) you're listening to a juggernaut
she just gon' sit by the pool 'til one nigga decide if i’m ready to fuck or not
rap is contingent on everything other than rap, so no we ain’t discussed a lot
it's sad when they wasting your passion
not do it for cash when they tell me they up the pot
nigga you would too, if you knew, what this game would do to you
been in this since 2002, look at all the bullshit i've been through
so-called beef with nobody's, i mention them and they nobody's
they say they killers, got no bodies, i’m sober talkin on no molly's
it’s joe probably won’t throw not one bottle in the club
honestly, it's worthless killing the purpose of these hollows in these gloves
and really i’m having a much better time on the couch with these models on my nuts
the minute we raid is the minute you’ll see us show these cock-a-roaches love (waddup)

[outro: joe budden]
what on earth will the fuck boys do next?"

Presents...30 Months

"with it looking like the new blogger interface sticking this time, i'm going to make this the first new post 'cause, oh yeah, i hit 2 and a half years of blogging yesterday. wow!"

Finally Finished..."Shhh...True Love's Speaking"

“true love suffers, and is silent.” – oscar wilde

“silent, huh? if you know me you know i love to quote oscar wilde, but…well, fuck being silent…

dear love,

what…the…fuck?! are you for real with this shit?! seriously?! ‘cause i must say it’s your fault i spend my days as a fuckin’ rodin statue. it’s all i can do to keep from massaging friction burns into my temples when my mind’s contemplating in philosopher-like thought exactly what the fuck is going on in my life. and it’s your fault i spend my nights sniveling like a bitch, crying rivers into my pillow because i don’t understand why the fuck you’re doing this to me.

i mean, is this usually how you treat a faithful disciple; someone who has spent his entire life dedicated to the belief in you? is this how you tend to regard someone who’s said, “i don’t believe in anything but love”? ‘cause that was me; those were my words; and this is what one of your followers gets for having uttered them. this is my prize for years of loyal service. not a bump in salary, not a promotion or title change; not even a corner office; you shit on a humble servant by allowing the only woman i’ve ever loved, to love somebody else more than she loves me. that’s my fucking reward?! that’s my fucking comeuppance?! thank you for that, thank you very much. you know what? fuck you love! fuck you!

(3o minutes later…)

i think i should apologize to you love; i’ve never really been a person who’s outwardly emotional and i think i allowed my feelings to dictate that prior message. i’m sorry for that, but you have to understand the position i’ve been put in. look at this situation from my perspective…

let me start like this… hello, my name is brian wilson, but you already knew that. anyway, once upon a time i loved a woman who actually loved me back. and in doing so, we’d used the word “always” to describe the love that we shared: as in despite any time that may elapse or any distance that may come between us, we’d “always” have that love connecting she and i. we’d felt what we had was transcendent and even today i don’t think either of us would dispute that thinking.

so you’ll have to forgive me for the beginning of this letter. because in believing that those things to still be true, it remains a bit difficult to accept that she chose another person over me to spend her life with. and that’s as genuine a statement as any made previously, or any feeling felt by me towards her. we’re supposed to be more…more than…i don’t know….more; we’ve both professed an undying love for the other, and even that love wasn’t enough to place her next to my side. surely you’ll agree having to hold on to that knowledge is a sufficient excuse, err, reason for the first two paragraphs. i needed to vent and while i don’t really feel any better about my situation even though i did, the language i used was inexcusable. again, i’m sorry. but now that you’ve seen things from my eyes, i hope what i did is at least understandable. i’m hurting because of this…still.

anyway, what else can i say? it is what it is right?

regards,

brian a. wilson

p.s. still a believer despite what i wrote. it’s who i am…but you knew that too.”

sometime around the beginning of '12. just finished today. i think.

Writes..."The Lost Art Of The Backhand"

“it appears to me that the kids of this generation were born with a gene that instills a kind of “boldness” in them previous ones didn’t seem to possess; something that makes them feel the last word in a conversation belongs to them and they’ll have it regardless of who they’re talking to. ok, that kind of thinking probably isn’t as fresh as i’ve made it out to be; i’m just saying i don’t remember kids ever being as audacious as they are now in saying the things to their parents that i’d probably merely thought…for fear of getting backhanded after the words had left my lips. is there no concern over catching a “reverse palm” in the mouth from your mother anymore? or whatever it is dads do when you sass them? (a karate chop to the throat i guess, i wouldn’t know…) because honestly, i don’t see any trepidation in kids about how they respond to their parents nowadays.

i saw this scene play out yesterday…

mom: “turn that game off before we…”

her daughter: (interrupting) “i am turning it off, i heard you. i have to…”

something, something… she said more words but i had tuned out everything but her tone by then. it was aggressive, bordering on violent, and i half-expected for the girl to get into her mother’s face if the woman had responded to what she’d said. look, i’ll be honest. in the past i would’ve just chalked this exchange up to how white parents allow their kids to talk to them, impertinent like that, because they want to be their kid’s friend rather than their parent. not that i don’t understand wanting to form a strong relationship with your kids; just form the right one. but i’m going off on another tangent…my point is i was wrong; having witnessed it with my own eyes, i’ve found this kind of insolence from children transcends race these days. black, white, red, blue, green…kids of every color are doing the same thing because for some reason they all think someone telling them to do something requires their feedback. and apparently there aren’t many people teaching them it usually doesn’t.

i wrote before that it was the fear of getting backhanded forced me to be cautious in how i responded to my mother giving me instructions, but i think that it had to do more with an awareness of not wanting to be blatantly disrespectful to her. so i did what i was told without interjecting my opinion on the subject. not that i was a perfect kid (because i wasn’t); or that i agreed with everything that she said (because i didn’t); but i recognized even at a young age, as a single mother she had enough stress to deal with raising three kids by herself; she didn’t need me adding more by talking back every time she was being a mom to me. maybe that was just me though.

i must be naïve to think yesterday’s situation should’ve played out like this…

mom: “turn that game off before we…”

her daughter: (turns off game without speaking)

imagine that… “parent tells kid to do something… kid does it immediately…and without opening their mouth…” hmmm…when did that become the exception and not the rule?

but i don’t have any kids so what do i know right?”

Writes..."Fate"

"i can only conclude that based on my interactions with other people that my definition of "fate" varies significantly from those i've heard use the phrase before. i believe in fate, i do, and nothing will convince me that i shouldn't; but i've seen that my "fate" and others' aren't really the same thing. example…me happening upon an old classmate i haven't seen in 20 years at a grocery store in a foreign city; i'd probably classify that as “fate”: the stars aligning or a pre-destined moment or whatever you want to label it. and i think that a lot of people would agree with me, but that's where i believe the "fate" part ends. i mean, i wouldn't call that chick giving me head in the supermarket parking lot twenty minutes later an equally unavoidable occurrence, and i certainly don't think she'd consider swallowing my load her "destiny". no, i feel that "fate" consists of a single instant, where certain elements conspire towards a life-altering event, but everything after that moment is an opportunity. it may have been "fate" that crossed our paths, but it probably wasn't the same phenomenon that uncrossed her legs in the backseat; we're still speaking hypothetically of course.

"why are you writing this brian?" good question, nosy person randomly asking poignant inquiries aloud. this is simply the real-life application of a theory…on the differences between what i believe: of what things are versus what they have been in the past. basically my thinking is, having written "loving her was fate" in a past piece, i was wrong when i penned that. and perhaps what i believed to be "fate" shouldn't have been deemed the conclusion of what we could be. instead, it should be thought of as merely the starting point of the future i’ve determined i want for myself. one day i had been lonely…and she had been lonely…and “fate” decided to put us in each other’s lives at that grocery store, through a social-networking site, or a chance encounter on the street…however; i’ll accept that as truth. “fate” provided the opportunity, but taking advantage of that opportunity is up to each individual person. if i hadn’t said anything to her in that moment, could i really say it wasn’t our “fate” to be together? ‘cause that kind of sounds like a bit of a cop out. if i had let the moment slip away then i wouldn't really know what she and i could have been "destined" for, would i?

but i hadn’t. when our moment came, i had done everything i could to take advantage of the opportunity “fate” had provided us. that was all i could do. so if my future didn’t include her, i wouldn’t be able to blame “destiny” for that…unless “destiny” had been the one that had swallowed her “destiny”. umm…nevermind.

no, loving her wasn’t “fate”; meeting her was. loving her was more like…inevitable.”

Presents..."The Destruction Of Sennacherib" by Lord Byron

"the assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
and his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
and the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
when the blue wave rolls nightly on deep galilee.

like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
that host with their banners at sunset were seen:
like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
that host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

for the angel of death spread his wings on the blast,
and breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
and the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
and their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

and there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
but through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
and the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
and cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

and there lay the rider distorted and pale,
with the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
and the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
the lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

and the widows of ashur are loud in their wail,
and the idols are broke in the temple of baal;
and the might of the gentile, unsmote by the sword,
hath melted like snow in the glance of the lord!"

Re-Writes..."The Goal"

“so this concept i’ve created is based on me being able to capture a woman’s heart now, before i have anything. to gain their love without power, status or money. to form a successful relationship with nothing to offer but the person that i am would be the single greatest accomplishment of my life…”

sometime in '00 or '01, was writing on loose sheets of paper and wasn't dating them. just finished today.

Presents...Me...In 2007 And Today

"i thought i'd offer a little insight into who i am...or at least who i was...through an old myspace survey.

about me...
name:	brian wilson
nickname:	poe, tensai, encyclopedia brian
birthday:	09-28-79
age:	32
height:	6'0"
hair color:	black
eye color:	reddish-brown
have you ever...
fallen for your best friend:	yes
kissed someone who was just your friend:	yes
been rejected:	it may be hard to believe but yes
been in love:	yes
used someone:	no
cheated on someone:	no...i'm all about the 1-on-1
been cheated on:	i don't think so
done something you regret:	yes…if you live long enough you'll do something you regret
do you...
color your hair:	i have
have tattoos:	no
if so how many:	---
have any piercings:	no
if so how many:	---
have a bf/gf:	yes
like thunderstorms:	yes
ever get off the damn computer:	to sleep
have you/do you have...
considered a life of crime:	white collar only...forget being the labor
considered being a hooker:	i'm too pretty
considered being a pimp:	i'm working on my backhand as we speak
split personalities:	yes...and they're all evil
obsessions:	"guitar hero": all of them, hockey, women
panic:	no...yes...no...i don't know...i'm so scared
anxiety:	that question just made me wet myself
depression/considered suicide:	my split personalities have conflicting opinions on that one
right now...
current clothes:	xxl black family guy t-shirt (stewie of course), levi’s silvertab blue jeans, black jordan 16.5's
current mood:	laid-back; always am...
current hair:	short, tapered, curly waves
current music:	the new slaughterhouse album
current annoyance:	people
current perfume/cologne:	cool water by davidoff
current thing you should be doing:	sleeping
current crush:	i don't crush...
favorite...
drink:	peach faygo
color:	black
candy:	mr. goodbar
tv show:	family guy
movie:	face/off or desperado
place:	anywhere i feel comfortable, places like home
person to talk to:	i'm not huge on talking
do you prefer...
mcdonald's or burger king:	depends on what i'm trying to eat
marry the perfect lover or the perfect friend:	perfect friend...you can teach someone to be a better lover, you can't teach the qualities of a good friend
root beer or dr. pepper:	neither
sunshine or rain:	rain
spring or fall:	fall
winter or summer:	winter
vanilla or chocolate:	chocolate
snowboarding or skiing:	i've never tried either
lights on or off:	lights on...if i don't want to look at you i probably won't be having sex with you...
are you...
understanding:	i think so
open-minded:	i think so
bad-tempered:	a little
happy:	relatively
attractive:	yes
bored easily:	yeah, yet i'm still doing this survey. go figure.
sad:	not really
unique:	yeah
what do you like in a girl/boy:	the 5 b's...brains...beauty...body...bible...beethoven equal a sixth b...brian
eyes:	doesn't matter
hair color:	doesn't matter
long or short hair:	doesn't matter
height:	average to tall
body type:	average
personality:	must have one
random...
how would you describe yourself?	sincerely, hopelessly romantic...ridiculously smart
do you have any pets?	no
have any siblings?	a brother and a sister
what do you want to be when you grow up?	a parent
do you wanna get married and have kids?	yes
what is your best physical trait?	my eyes...they penetrate
what is the best thing about your personality?	i am a very charming fellow
what words do you overuse	"fuck", that's pretty much the one
what's the most annoying thing about you?	people don't like that i'm prompt and very time-specific...to me 5 minutes means 5 minutes. but that doesn't make me annoying. they're annoying for not having a fucking watch.
end this survey with a quote	"pain or damage don't end the world, or despair or fucking beatings. the world ends when you're dead. until then, you got more punishment in store. stand it like a man and give some back."

Finally Finished..."One In The Temple"

“hell is empty and all the devils are here.” - william shakespeare

“the day i held a gun pressed against my head and contemplated using it to turn the wall behind me into a “jackson pollock” painting, was the day i realized that not even death would alleviate the suffering and that had haunted me in life. the truth is, i’d always deemed hell an inevitability for me; though i never believed i’d ever done anything sinister enough to think that the nameplate for the mailbox to my eventual residence there had already been etched in stone…or steel…or whatever material the devil’s minions were crafting hell’s street signs out of. in my head i imagined them hammering out ones with some sort of polycarbonate sheeting rather than the aluminum kind i had been accustomed to. umm, anyway…i wasn’t a bad person; fact is, there were people way more deserving of a fiery fate than i, and that’s not my biased opinion. i mean if i were basing my “goodness” on the do’s and don’ts of the “ten commandments”, i knew i wouldn’t have set the curve in class but i think i’d receive a passing mark. probably around sixty percent because the first few aren’t as clear as others. i'd get a “d-”, but at least i wouldn’t be repeating the same grade.

no, i wasn’t a bad person. it’s just things that tended to turn to shit around me; or because of me; i didn’t know. maybe it was because i had been prone to making poor decisions, or because i was always placing myself in even worse situations; all i could be sure of was that everything in my life was falling apart at once. and with so many questions overwhelming me, i was at the point where the muzzle of a gun in contact with the side of my skull seemed the answer to all of them. i remember the tears running down my face, as i thought of everyone i’d leave behind if i went through with it. people who’d professed their love for me yet hadn’t loved me enough to prevent the position i was in. but i couldn’t be mad at them; hell, i hadn’t loved myself enough to prevent it either. and i recall how they continued to stream, even as i realized i wasn’t crying for those people. the tears i shed weren’t for what the loss of the relationship we’d shared would mean to individuals who’d claimed to be close to me. no, i was crying because i’d realized the truth was nothing mattered to me: not people’s feelings or their opinions; not even them. i cared about nothing…while everyone else cared about themselves. and there’s an eternal torment in knowing you suffered, having given to others what they wouldn’t return to you.

“hell is other people” - jean-paul sartre

but like i said, my death wouldn’t have caused this pain to cease; no bullet was going to change that. i was already in hell and anything coming to me after i passed would just be a continuation of the existence i was living. and with the certainty of that realized, i switched the safety back on and placed the gun down on a counter in front of me. there'd be no new artwork that day.”

sometime around the beginning of '12. just finished today. i think.

Re-Writes..."I'll Accept Being Understood"

i needed to see this as a full piece.

“i'm not trying to be accepted for who i am anymore; right now i'm more focused on being understood for what i am.” – me

“it took me a long time to change my thinking on the way i felt about how people receive me; probably too long to be totally honest. but i did; and i think it was because i finally got tired of feeling like i was being tolerated by others, like i was somebody they put up with…until they eventually came to the realization that i wasn’t going to change who i was and were forced to submit to acceptance. ‘cause apparently i’ve “triangle choked” a lot of those i’ve had relationships with in my day; and i possess a repertoire of various “armbars” and “leg locks” waiting for anyone who’s willing to spend enough time with me.

but maybe it wasn’t the feeling someone had to stomach me that caused the shift in my opinion. maybe it was the fact that people actually had the audacity to tell me, repeatedly i might add, they had “tapped out” to their acquiescence of who i was. ‘cause nothing says “i love you for you” like hearing something to the effect of “i can’t change you so i’ll just try not to let any of your quirks bother me too much” over and over.

her: “brian, i…i don’t get you; but you are who you are and i can live with that.”
me: “umm…ok.”

now i see in using diplomacy then, i’d responded improperly. and that if i had used a suitable comeback when she’d said what she did, the exchange of dialogue between us probably would have been…

her: “brian, i…i don’t get you; but you are who you are and i can live with that.”
me: “umm…fuck you.”

haha! i’m laughing, but only because i can see myself delivering both lines in the same manner: in a deadpan tone without raising my voice or losing my calm. and i think it’s funny she would’ve gotten identical reactions from me; despite the huge difference in what was said. but i digress…i realize now that the latter response seems much more appropriate, considering my current mindset; especially since i don’t remember ever asking for anyone’s permission to be myself, much less begging for anyone’s approval of me. i am who i am; you either like me or you don’t, but “acceptance” is no longer an option.

i’ll only accept being understood these days and blah blah, more blah…what the fuck am i doing? no seriously, what am i doing with this piece? ‘cause from reading the first part of this again, i’ve deduced that apparently i have just been going off on a tangent about how i’ve been treated by people in the past and that wasn’t my intention at all. well, you know, laying the foundation for the crux of an thought i had was, but not in coming off like a whiny bitch in the preparation of the groundwork on that thought. this isn’t about me; see the idea behind this rant, er, piece is me trying to discover what happens after you’ve determined that you’ve found someone who also believes personal relationships are sustained, not by the tolerance of another’s flaws, but through one’s appreciation of them? what happens if you’ve come across a person in your life who’s never claimed to have accepted you for what you are…because you know they’ve never desired to “accept” you for what are? what do you do when you’ve known from your first encounter with someone that they truly “got” you; and from your first conversation you’ve felt they had a genuine understanding of who you really are? i don’t know, maybe i should talk to someone who has experienced this.

and let’s say i did find someone i could ask in an effort to gain a few answers to my questions. let’s say i, hypothetically, found a woman who holds a man in such a regard; that she believes him to be that “someone” my previous inquires have alluded to. hell, let’s even pretend in this supposed scenario, that the “someone” this woman has placed in such high esteem is a man a lot like me; i mean, a lot like me. and when asked to describe the connection she possessed with that man, she used the following statements the same way she had when she’d been talking to that man…

“you're the only person that's understood me completely.”

and…

“you are the only one that will ever understand me completely.”

reiterating what she had said earlier; this time with emphasis on the word “only”…

i imagine that i would probably thank her for her candor; but walk away with the feeling our discussion hadn’t produced any new answers to the questions i’d come to her with.

so i’m left to ponder this…especially because i know i wasn’t referring to myself in the first paragraph of this part. if that person and i are both looking for the same thing in life: a connection based on understanding and not acceptance; and she’d said similar things the fictitious woman had said to me and meant every word when she said them, why the fuck are “we”, or what "we" could be, merely a thought of a little less than 900 words?”

8-7-12

Presents..."One Good Woman" by Peter Cetera

"one of my favorite songs as a kid, though i never could make out the chorus. thus, i never knew the title. funny that i happened to be shuffling through my plethora of mp3's and recognized it immediately. i think i've listened to it about 30 times since the first time it played yesterday. powerful, powerful stuff."

"i am so in love with you
i just can't deny it
everybody knows i can't deny it
everybody knows
you can read me like a book
just like a fortune teller
everybody needs a fortune tller
telling you the very truth

you bring me feelin'
you bring me fire
you give me love that's taking me higher
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do

you bring out the best in me
with love and understanding
anytime i need some understanding
you are always there

and if i ever lose my way
you're always there to guide me
anyone can see you're here inside me
anyone can see it

you bring me feelin'
you bring me fire
you give me love that's taking me higher
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do

you fill me with hope
love and devotion
you taught me how to show my emotion
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do

this is our time, we have it all
we have a way of knowing if we're heading for a fall
we'll work it out and get it right
and when i get home to you
you're such a sight for my poor eyes

this is our time, we have it all
when i come home at night
you're such a sight for my poor eyes

you bring me feelin'
you bring me fire
you give me love that's taking me higher
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do

you fill me with hope
love and devotion
you taught me how to show my emotion
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do

you bring me feelin'
you bring me fire
you give me love that's taking me higher
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do

you fill me with hope
love and devotion
you taught me how to show my emotion
just goes to prove
what one good woman can do"

Finally Finished..."Despair"

“my money’s gone, so far past broke…
contemplating the words i've spoke…
worried about these troubling times,
problems have destroyed greater minds…
my town is small, my world is black…
holding on? but it’s strength i lack,
and courage too. i don’t have much;
heroic qualities and such…
i walk these streets in despair…
october winds have chilled the air…
my path, lighted by the cars…
and yet, uncertain, like the stars…
but still, i press on through the night…
i walk alone, no one’s in sight;
i walk alone, a single man…
trying to formulate a plan…"

sometime in '00 or '01, was writing on loose sheets of paper and wasn't dating them. just finished today.

Re-Writes..."Past Sentiment"

“i sit here and i ask myself what i could possibly give you or do for you that even remotely express the feelings i have for you; something of myself i could share with you that would explain what you mean to me. but i can’t. i sit at this table and stare at a blank sheet of paper in front of me. there are no romantic ideas that i have or thoughtful gifts that i can give; no beautiful poems to recite, no pretty songs to sing. my words seem lacking; my actions too. nothing seems adequate, i feel too much. i’m overwhelmed with emotions that are difficult to convey. so i continue to sit, just me, my pen and a clean piece of paper. a single clean sheet of paper. sitting here thinking of you as i stare at the paper, i see your face. i see your smile and i hear your laugh. memories of our experiences together flood my mind and i’m happy. i have to let you know the joy you bring to my life. but i don’t have the words. i can’t truly express myself in a way deserving of you. then i remember things you have said to me: heartfelt, loving things that have touched my soul. and i realize how i tell you isn’t as important as actually letting you know. so i write this… you always ask me why i stare at you and don’t say anything; you want to know what i’m thinking in those moments. first, let me apologize. i really don’t mean to stare; it’s just that “us” seemed so unlikely that you and i coupled is still kind of a shock to me. i look at you to make sure you being next to me is really true; that we actually are together and have feelings for one another and want a future with each other. i look at you because when i do i see all those things. and when our eyes meet i feel you see what i see. i feel it with everything that i am, everything that i will be. you told me before that you wanted to spend your life with me. you said it wasn’t wrong to say it because it was how you felt despite it being kind of fast. so why would it be wrong for me to do the same. you say you want someone to love you for you and all that entails? i love you! i love you because you are you! no pretense, i love you. you have the biggest heart of anyone i’ve ever met; your compassion for people knows no limits and i love that about you. i think about you and us all the time. when i’m not with you i feel like i’m missing a piece of myself. i long to be with you when we’re apart and i wish time stood still when we’re together. my life has been blessed because of your presence in it. i’m better just by knowing you. never forget that i need you, or that i want you. always. but maybe it is too soon to say it, maybe i should’ve held what i feel inside. and i’m sorry if i made the wrong decision, but i can’t keep my feelings to myself. you deserve to know it even if i don’t have the words. maybe this will do. maybe this clumsy attempt at expressing myself is sufficient to let you know what i feel for you. maybe saying i love you is enough. even if it is too fast, it’s what i feel.”

sometime in the past, i don't remember the exact date.

Writes..."The Letter"

“to write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written." - jean-jacques rousseau

““her heart dropped when she saw the number come up on her cell phone screen. she recognized it immediately; it was a number i’d used to reach her in the past when i had been desperate to hear her voice. but having received a text from me only a couple of weeks earlier that included the words “save this number”, and seeing that that number wasn’t the one calling her now, she knew that despite my name being displayed, in all likelihood i wasn’t on the other end of the line. the phone once, then twice, and was about to ring a third time before she answered it. “b?”, she said softly, almost afraid from not knowing what to expect. “hello”, a female replied, “is this (insert name here)?” “yes, this is her”; and though their interaction had been limited in the past, it took very little effort to identify the voice she was hearing as my mom’s. “(insert name here), um, forgive me for skipping any pleasantries but…well, brian made me swear i’d call you in anything bad ever happened to him…and well, it’s not good”. and with those words she paused; only for a moment, but for in moment there was silence on both ends. neither one of them knew what to say, and all (insert name here) could do was flashback to the conversation where she and i had actually had made that commitment to one another. one day, during a phone call, i made the comment that if something happened to her i wouldn’t even know about it; that the only news i would ever get on her would have to come from her own mouth. especially after the way our relationship as a couple ended, well, faded into nonexistence; i knew that nobody around her thought highly enough of me to inform me if she ever got sick or injured, or worse. despite the close bond that we’d developed over the years since our courtship concluded; the truth is we’d only dated for a few months and i seriously doubted that the time we had been together had been deemed significant by anyone other than us. in spite of there being an “us” for only a brief period of time, even while we were together, we both would’ve adamantly professed the connection between us to have been the most intimate either of us had ever experienced. but that was a secret that for years only we shared; thus, it wasn’t very hard to imagine myself an afterthought in the minds of the people she held dear; a chapter from her life considered like many others: unimportant, and definitely one of the more forgettable parts of the book.

me: “if something ever happens to you, how will i know? we don’t live in the same city anymore, so it’s not like i can just swing by your house in order to check on you. and we don’t really have any mutual friends; so who would give me that kind of news? i’ll need to know if…well, i don’t want to assume that something bad has occurred due to not haven’t heard anything from you in months.”

her: “i understand brian. believe me, if something ever happens to me you’ll definitely be one of the first to know about it.”

me: “so who’s gonna let me know? your mom? does she even remember me?”

her: “yeah, to her you’re the guy i dated that was always wearing black. hahaha. but seriously, i’ll have someone call you; even if it’s (her oldest daughter). in fact, i’ll just have (her oldest daughter) do it.”

me: “promise me that and i’ll promise you the same.”

her: “i promise you brian. and you better.”

me: “you know i will.”

her mind was still focused on that exchange when my mother started speaking again. “he’s gone (insert name here); brian passed away in his sleep this morning.” and there was another moment of silence; this one seemingly lasting a little longer than the previous one. she wanted to say something; anything; but the shock of what she had just heard had left her paralyzed. but even if she could’ve forced herself to mouth a few words, she knew there weren’t any she could extend that would bring peace to either of them. i was dead; and nothing spoken would change that. so, after a few more moments where neither of them said anything, she managed to compose herself long enough to offer her deepest sympathies, along with her thoughts and prayers; pledging any support needed by my family in their time of grief. my mother accepted her condolences, thanking her one final time before hanging up; leaving her to contemplate what she had just been told. i was gone; the relationship we shared was done; and with both of them having become her reality, all she could do was reflect on our history…while wiping away tears formed from the memories of we’d once been.

the second time my mother’s phone number appeared on the screen of her “i-phone” came exactly a week after my body had been placed in the ground, yet it produced the same reaction in her the first one did. i mean, the last time she’d talked to my mom the conversation hadn’t actually inspired much confidence in her and she had very little reason, well, no reason, to believe another one would’ve gone any differently. “hello”, she answered; hesitantly, almost afraid of the exchange that was coming. “hello (insert name here). i’m sorry to bother you; i know you’re probably very busy but there’s something i feel you need to know. well, while we, (my sister) and i, were going through brian’s stuff, we opened the safe where he kept his important documents locked away and found a letter that he’d written but hadn’t mailed addressed to you. so i figured i’d give you a call in order to see if it might be something you wish to have in your possession.” a moment of silence… “(insert name here), you still there?” there were tears falling from her eyes and running down her cheeks; and she realized it had become difficult to speak. but she managed to force herself into a “yes ma’am”; and more importantly, “i want it”.

she wasn’t surprised that i had left behind a letter for her; nor was she shocked in thinking such a letter might have consisted of my spilled guts in expressing the feelings i had for her. nobody knew me better than she did and she knew nobody was better than me when it came to the commitment of meaningful words.

a couple of days later, a thick envelope arrived at her home; and when she collected the mail, she recognized the handwriting on it immediately. she’d used to say that i had beautiful penmanship, but at that moment she was smearing my script with her tears. the initial ones were wiped away with a shirt sleeve but when more continued to fall from her face, she thought to herself, “i’m crying and i haven’t even opened the envelope yet. this isn’t going to be good.” she wanted to open it right there standing beside her mailbox but she was hesitant; this letter was the final link between us in life and she knew it represented a closure that we’d never, ever imagined for our relationship. i mean, ten days after we first met, we were using the term “always” to describe the bond between us; but we’d never asked ourselves how long our “always” would last. and if the ending of our “always” had been realized, evidenced by the letter i’d written her, then she was going to need a sufficient amount of time to absorb every word penned in it. no, standing at her mailbox wouldn't do at all; it couldn't provide the proper environment for an act of this magnitude. she would be reading the final words addressed to her, from the person she had held the deepest connection to in life. she needed a private place; where she could cry, or yell, or curse; do whatever she felt appropriate. but mostly, she required solitude for the breakdown she knew was coming while she went through it; her thinking being you can't go through a letter like this and not breakdown at some point.

once inside, she went into her bedroom and plopped down on her bed. then she opened the envelope and began to read the first page.

“dear (insert nickname here),

i always figure i will send this letter to you one day, probably the day i can convince myself that you’ll be equally receptive to what i’ve already come to realize as truth: that every day we’re not together is another day that we’ve wasted by being apart. there, i said it. if you’ve ever wondered how i feel about a reconciliation, i think i just summed my feelings up on our relationship in a way i never have in anything previously written or said…‘cause there simply isn’t any other way to put it. we both know the reality of life is you only get so much of it before it’s gone, yet neither one of us seems to appreciate just how much we’re squandering ours. i remember you saying that we have to live our lives as they are until the day the moon and the planets align perfectly and we find ourselves together again; but i wonder, not if we could do more to set those celestial bodies on that course, but why we haven’t done more to carry out their synchronization? i know there had been a time in the past where we’d both tried to figure out things for ourselves; having been in situations that required a measure of division between us. and i recall you writing “i’m not saying that it will be always be like this but unfortunately for right now it is what it is”; and while we each had showed consideration for the other’s own circumstances, there’s never been a time i’ve felt anything that might, has threatened what we could be at a time we both get what we truly want. and from what i’ve read, through your own words, it isn’t hard for me to accept that you feel the same way. we’ve always said what we have is transcendent and i still believe that.

do you remember when i wrote this: "when we were together i told her i loved her all the time. now, we're not together and i still tell her i love her. sure, much time has passed and the distance separating she and i has increased; but nothing's changed between us. what i feel for her hasn't changed; and what i want from her hasn't changed. she once asked how do you tell the person that you've always loved you still have love in your heart for them and i’ll answer that question with a question. why was i surprised that she does? i do. we'll never lose what we had because we'll never lose what we have. what we have is transcendent; always and forever. but mostly, what we have is ours."? do you remember when i used those words to show you my heart? ‘cause i do; and nothing said then rings any less true now. but i won’t employ a past thought to help define a future “us”. you know how i feel about you; surely you don’t need to look back over aged notes that i’ve already sent you to determine what you mean to me. nah, i don’t think that you would need to; not when you take in account what we are to one another.

so i write you this letter: my awkward, yet humble attempt at the disclosure of what i’m presently thinking. i love you…and i’m pretty, fairly sure; well i have it on good authority, that you love me. hahaha, i know, i know; you tell me. “more than i know” in fact. and that’s a phrase not easily dismissed because frankly, your “more than you know” has meant even more to me than the preceding three have. there’s something extraordinary in telling someone you love them, and then adding “more than you know”, that means to signify even though you’ve already used the most effective words that people have in expressing strong sentiment for another person, even “i love you” lacks the ability to convey exactly what you feel for them. and though you know you could exhaust every other term for affection known to man to try to perfectly communicate your heart, you realize how futile the effort would be and that it would be best to simply submit to “more than you know”. ‘cause you’ll never be able to verbally explain the feelings you hold for them successfully; and the reality is even if your words somehow penetrated through to someone’s heart, the person they were directed at still wouldn’t understand fully their true meaning. believe me, i know. i started the “more than you know’s” between us and you still don’t really know how i feel about you.

thus, i have to conclude that not really comprehending what the other holds in their heart is the reason that we are fucking around; letting our own individual bullshit continue to keep us apart; both of us seemingly content to let precious time pass. but the truth is, despite what my actions or inaction may indicate, i find no pleasure in knowing that we’re not just losing time we could be spending together; we’re wasting time we’ll never be able to get back. no enjoyment, and definitely, no happiness. let me ask you this question… “are you happy?” i know i’ve asked you this many times before, probably to the point of annoyance, but experience has taught me that nothing in life is as important as the discovery of someone or something that truly brings you joy; especially when that someone or something has to do with being loved or loved back. it’s funny, in writing that i remembered reading a quote that expanded on my thinking: “we search all our lives to find someone to love and the true extreme thing is that person actually loves you back. it’s the most genuine feeling ever.” you’re right, er, sorry i stole one of your lines. hahaha. well, i spent my entire life searching for you. i love you and you love me back. and the truth is i don’t want to squander another moment of my life not being with you.

i hope you receive this letter while we both can do something about being together again.

- brian

remember we’re not just “always”, we’re “forever” too.”

and with the final words read, she carefully placed the letter on a nightstand before burying her face into a pillow she would saturate with tears. everything she’d pored over had touched her heart, but she just couldn’t get the last line out of her head: “i hope you receive this letter while we both can do something about being together again.” her mind raced as the questions began to take form. “why didn’t he ever send me this? he knew how i felt about him. he knew what i wanted. why hadn’t he…”, when suddenly she stopped herself. she could speculate or assume any number of possibilities as solutions for her inquiries but she realized she would only be rewarded with speculation and assumptions; and the only person she could go to for the answers to her questions was no longer around to give them. i was dead and the opportunity for any discussion on the subject had passed when i did. i had left her in life…with a letter.”

except there’ll be no letter to find expressing any heartfelt sentiment i had for her when i die; as i sit here writing this now, i ponder what the purpose would be of that. well, not really pondering, because my thoughts on this are biased and i can’t even force myself to develop an argument for the act of a penned note. i mean, i just don’t get it; there certainly can’t any satisfaction to be had in having someone discover, through hidden correspondence, you were holding on to loving thoughts that you never conveyed to them before you passed. so i won’t do that. i can’t. when i die, there won’t be any guessing about how i felt for the woman that i loved in life; especially not by the woman that i loved in life. when i die, she’ll know my heart…presumably better than i had.”