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may 25, 2001
these thoughts stack one on top of the other, bricks and iron bars to build a prison that nobody can see. it's a tightness in my throat, a rope grating uncertainty far different from ambition or excitement. i've found a new place, a glistening stretch of colors and light. inside sometimes i'm afraid i'll lose the way, get turned around on the road, and never again be able to soak up the deep blue of its skies. maybe i'm not the type of person suited to walk along this path, but i'll keep going as long as nobody chases me away. and maybe the light that shines here is not meant for eyes like mine, but i'll keep on looking anyway.
because nothing lasts. all that we are and all that we see is like sands on the ocean, a changing shoreline, a study of dynamics. so i'll cup my hands together and fill them full with each moment. i'll look at it, run through it, roll in it, drink it down while it's still here, thinking about the times to come but never counting on their existence.
because nothing has to last..not you, not me, not even the cold chains around this mind.

may 21, 2001
yesterday i found myself in a familiar place, somewhere i've gone to think many times in the past couple of years. i've been there alone wishing someone were there and with another wishing i were alone, but every time it has been cold and windy and dark. i'd walk across the weathered planks of the dock, out above the angry black ocean and under stark lights that blot out all the stars, and at the end of the pier, i'd stand and think of what it would be like to take one step further. watching the waves crash into the support beams of the pier, i would always find myself wondering...what's under the water, or how far down does it go, or what lies just over the horizon...and losing myself under cover of darkness.
standing, watching you watching the was almost forever ago in our history book, maybe something in chapter two..
last view i remember was wet, drifting fog. many pages and paragraphs later though, i return to see the sun has broken through.
salt and your hands in my hair, soft skies and your face in my life.
let's go on, keep walking, and make a new way out to the water,
our steps a song to all the surfers, our smiles fish to our friends on the pier.

may 18, 2001
under these cloudy skies we learn to become people other than ourselves, find ways to bring new personalities and experiences out of the same minds we think with each day. how wonderful it is that people can build worlds from simple imagination! and that we can make any story feel like our own, even if it's only for a short while.

may 12, 2001
aggression by three, swearing at a brown steel door .
proving beyond a doubt your lack of respect for all unlike
the almighty
and fearless
crouched down and hidden behind stupid black plastic frames.

may 11, 2001
sometimes i wonder where the sadness comes from. though much of my life has been painted in the pastels of happiness, those colors rest upon a somber layer of gray. the gray of faded memories, now surfaced in pen and ink and thought, deepens into cold blackness. and my world, a moment ago so beautiful and full, now closes tight around my shoulders, shrinks down until the only visible image is that of a ten-year-old with gerbil cheeks. only a few years into life but already marked a failure, arms grasp hard together, eyes fall downward, spirit takes flight into the shelter of silence.
people have power they do not realize they possess...
i could pump poison into my body and make jokes about it after a few years' time. but the careless words from a teacher to a child have remained much longer, although the child has grown and changed. at the beginning of this night i thought i was strong, but just a few printed pages were enough to bring me to my knees.
but i'm still walking tall, despite people's efforts to push me down. and the grayness inside this mind makes each experience blare forth in brilliant technicolor. yet still i'm praying.. someone make it possible for kids to see more color and less darkness. let them love to learn and live each day, and give their teachers the strength to build rather than the carelessness to destroy. i pray that no memories wrench open a tender spot for another kid the way they did in this house tonight. and i pray that we big people will have the caring and patience to change every little person's life only for the better.

may 1, 2001
4:45pm, and all the jazz cats are waking up and starting to mill around, their eyes intently searching, their ears wide open as they always seem to be. outside these heavy glass doors, the trees stretch out in the warm air of a new-found season, the sun sinking golden rays into all it can touch. as on summer days to come, the only sound is the silence brought only by heavy, heated air. in all the calm our ears perk up more, hoping some chord might pass them by.

"cattin' late at night
i think back to my window
when the day seems long."