See? It's not all bad.

Baby's Got The Blues

I've been down and out for the last month or so.
That new life smell has worn off and now things aren't feeling
quite as fuzzy.

I have lacked direction for so long that
I forget where I even came from.

I've been getting depressed over Alice again.
Although late last night I was reading the last missive I ever sent to her -
so long ago and so truly dramatic -
and it was as if I were writing for a stranger.
Someone who I can't honestly even picture anymore.
Someone who was, and remains, so far away and forgettable.

I can't even muster the moxie to go the Heming way
and just drink until there's art, song, or tragedy.
It just won't leave me alone:
one still, small, persistent voice telling me
"Don't give up."

Sometimes I wish it would just shut up.

Platitudes:
It's always darkest before the dawn.
Time heals all wounds.
Tomorrow is another day.

Tomorrow may be another day
but it's always seems so far
away.

Maybe I'm just being:

From Roses Come Thorns.

This particular evening finds our hero
housesitting.
There is a cat to care for and I told my folks
I would.
So here I am warm in their quiet corner of the universe
with just about everything I could ever need.

Truth be told it almost makes me weep.

Every object has its own place
to belong and be.
Everything is together and lovingly placed just
so.
Everything is normal and free of madness.
Everything is whole and untarnished,
everything is right, calm, and free of regret.

They do not drink.
They do not smoke.
They have never been awake at dawn
riddled with substance.
They have never been arrested.
They have never moved hundreds of miles
for lies.

They found one another and made it stick.
They created the flesh and did the best they could-
probably better than the flesh will ever do itself.
Staying stalwart through every blemish
they never stopped
showing love.
They had a family-
They had each other-
They had a normal life.

Sitting here with cat in lap I
realize that I will probably never have these things
and I honestly don't know
what to say about that.

Days

Oh and also:



How about that world?



Honestly, these about sum up everything I could ever write here.

Love,
Artemis.

Spasm

I wonder if it is possible to have both achievement and art.
Does drive take from us our wonder?
If we form an uneasy alliance with monotony
does that take away our fire?

Last night I reconnected with Stephanie,
B-R-O-O-K-L-Y-N,
I wanted to crawl through the wire.
It was so good to hear that voice.
A voice from that time when
I felt like more.
I let every word she said wash over me.
We spoke of love, death, destiny, and regret.
We spoke like wild things but completely devoid
of judgment.


This song has been on my mind for days:

(I was introduced by a child fair-haired and
she politely corrected me when
I said, "Annie.")

I used to find meaning in bourbon and beer.
Today I sat on a park bench eating roasted beets in the sunshine
and I thought about how long it has been since I lived this way
and I was truly missing
out.

After The Last Shot Is Fired.

Exhaustion.

I had to clean up my technohistory today.
It is amazing how many people I do not know anymore.
We all exchanged "I love yous" and words which I am sure that
we meant
at the time.

But no one stays.

Our story is fluid and
things wash in and wash out with
the tide.

I saw a picture at four in the morning
that reminded me of a face I've sworn to
forget.

There it was again.
Lips on mine, skin on skin.
How strong we think we've become but
time doesn't care
and heals wounds on its own schedule
if at all.

I've covered my tracks.
I've removed myself from the web.

Starting with seclusion
I seek those who won't
disappear.

Why Now?

I've often said
that this is the last time.
Well
this time
I mean it.

You are my center
When I spin away.
Out of control
on videotape.