I. So Many Beautiful Thoughts Inside Of My Mind 7-24-2005 to Natalia Sala there are only so many things you can do on a computer or with a trumpet for that matter no. no one cares, no one cares, no one fucking cares life without social awareness is NO life at all I cannot find the courage to argue with the telephone however great the static: "what is democracy? what is democracy? Its got something to do with young men killing one another. When it comes my time to go would you want me to go? For democracy, any man would give his only begotten son" -Metallica's "One" feel the land rise unto the people hear the sighs of mother earth complain oh how vague the truth really is we are all dying anyway: I want to do all these things with my life however it seems as if life lacks motivation emptiness and futile gestures of success are so easier to achieve than doing something worthwhile while the little Mexican children dance around the empty mobile homes the air smells like fresh cut grass but my grass is still yards long almost shoulder high I could jump from the deck into the prosperity that is America 30 minutes late at least I listen for a the sound of a bike a speed bike, skinny bringer of justice something to go right up my nose: And how it hurts to know I am wrong that if God wants to give; he gives NOTHING at all you have to find it whether it be that cute blond at your job how she ignores you when everything is over focus one must, my focus is dim focus on the future without any regrets and again the clock strides past 12 pm without anything productive to show for my time outside and inside even it smells of air the paper plant in Sylva gives the entire area a stench why can't man with all the technology we have devise a new way and create a form of paper without the pollution? II. The Merits Of Living Cheap 7-25-2005 the cats in the mobile home park are all I have left they bring peace with reflection at night of beady yellow eyes and fleas, goddamn those blood sucking bastards somehow they survive in temperatures that seem far above normal one glance if you could call it that across the uneven pavement road the trailer across from my own is a double wide outside the caucasians bitch and moan so much more than the Mexicans late at night (even after brother Jose' was caught at the border and returned without saying goodbye) doing something irrational would seem to be the only way to have fun tomorrow morning I must go to University administration trying once again to bring structure into a structureless life how I wished that my AIM list would flash with the arrival of Autumn one glance at the formica table that dominates the kitchen could it be called a kitchen? (6x6) the box of pasta lies forlornly waiting facing towards the phone those dried noodles are (waiting for Natalia to call) my face in black and my nose in a bag yellow riverlets perfumed with gaseous odor sink into the bottom for me to snort back into space into a cavernous bulge that is my brain still they look at me as if I were a joke someone to tease and point and laugh at how the tears of fall are never enough to indicate what emotion I have gone through III. Unwanted 7-25-2005 I spray the walls of my home clean with the paint of relief how expensive it will be to replace the cabinets and the woodworking around the sink the door to the back room askew on the floor the telephone ringing while the ashtray smokes I won't seem to listen even though I am aware of the eccentricies that create who I am discarded like so much trash in the can outside always falling over whenever the wind gets high in the way however pointless the trashcan must die before the dust settles in the bottom of my heart: I won't see her again I can already feel that how she entraced me with simplicity in all of her ways how her beauty radiated outward illuminating darkness (days) I find I wished I could have stolen her fervor but the wind blows harder the dust in my eyes stings more painfully I ride away into the distance with no plan for avenging my failures I ride away. I ride away. (with my heart as the sole company and my Savior) IV. Seven Minutes with change brewing in the air like a pot of coffee in an unwashed pot I seem the same things that have happened before along with the shadow that temporarily blinds my fear I will get into something again that I cannot control the factors in which far outweigh any possible desire to be strong faithless as I claim to be, I know I am wrong for there must exist a much stronger God