I feel so Indulgent. Self congratulating my every crawl-step, out-of-step with life as we know it. Every pretty phrase becomes a novel, every pretty face a muse. When will I hang this ego at the door and start the work? I will never be a slave to anyone but myself. I need only become my own master.


This is the year of Slow. Where I heal and grow. Slow. Life moves too fast sometimes for one to truly grasp what’s it’s on about. So let’s ease up on the pedal a bit. Breathe, relax. Brake. I want to unwind this mortal coil and examine the fiber. Am I made of steel or string?

Liquid Ablutions

Caffeine drip, main line momentum
Shake off this California rust
Either my eyes are blurry
Or this is an acid flashback

Unequivocal absurdity
Play with my prepositions honey
You know I like that rhyme and meter
Never caring, never bending
I always rip off the safety tags

A beer for the road
My toll for the highway
Turns into another stumbling barcrawl staccato
Try this sixer, new seasonal
Spiced with overcome inhibitions

And sometimes violent
Like a grenade, area incendiary
Hat wearing hopscotcher
Pogoed in just for some tea

If drugs weren’t drinkable
My thirst would pack its bags
And leave me shaking
Alone and lost
I would dry up and turn to dust

Loveliness of The Dark


High on my own chemicals

Blood rush the ventricals

I can’t unfeel this feeling

Sun warm red sweet


Spilling light onto my face

Face melts into shoulders

Leaving nothing but a frame

Empty frame, shadows shame

Ripping your way through this cloth nothingness


Yet this cloth bleeds and bends

Barriers shifting

I can’t unfeel this feeling

Red silk runs cold


Through my hands like ribbons…


And my hands feel like stones

I cast them from me

But this isn’t skipping stones

You’re breaking bones


Didn’t your mother teach you better?

Didn’t your father teach you better?

No no they did not, but that’s not the point


Why do you hurt the ones you love?

Why do you love to hurt?


I call you up on the phone

And you say you’re not good people

You say your darkness isn’t like others

It’s permanent


Yet what could change more than a person?

This flesh moves and it breathes

 to a beat all its own

dragging my two-tone skin all over this earth


I’ve been playing hide and seek

And what I seek I’ve found

And all I want to do is hide now


But there’s more to this feeling

There’s the upswing, a new spring

A new dawn, breaking?


I’ve been walking in the shadows

Catching embers from your fire


The embers don’t catch on my skin

But I still try


I hope the fire that I make will keep us both warm

Until then, don’t forget to keep throwing sparks

My Loveliness of The Dark




Growing Storms: An Essay

“The following tone is a reference tone recorded at our operating level.” –Captain Beefheart


At various times throughout one’s life, we experience sudden powerful change in our understanding of the world around us.  Our universe may be sent topsy-turvy in a moment’s instance and us along with it. We sometimes call these moments epiphany.


“Eureka!” screams a naked and soggy Archimedes as he runs through the streets of Syracuse. Such a burst of clarity might elicit euphoria, such as Archimedes experienced, or a more invective filled and dismayed response. Personally, I have experienced both.


Powers, Oregon. 2001.  Coordinates 42°53′0″N 124°4′23″W. Subject Age: 11.


Seldom have I ever felt so free as when I had free reign of the Mountain. My father had an arrangement with Cold Iron Ranch to keep trespassers out and lock the gate at night. In return: a house to stay in. When we arrived it was filled to the rafters with garbage, dirty as an earthworm, and as frigid as the name of the ranch. It had no insulation.


By the end of our stay at Cold Iron’s, the house was hospitable, clean, and warm as long as you huddled next to the wood store. The junk that had littered the house, the yard, and dotted the rest of the 20,000-acre reserve around us, became my personal toy chest. I was envied. Railroad irons, old appliances, junked cars, rusty curtain rods, springs, coils, just about every thing you could imagine. My friends and I were in heaven. We build forts. We chased the cow herds through the valleys. We conquered the rolling hills around us. It was glorious.


There is a singular memory of my stay at the house on the ranch that sticks out in my mind. I’m alone. I walk down from my vista on top of the low rise behind me and approach the small pool of water next to a copse of young fir trees. My thick puffy blue jacket wards me from the cold wind that whips across the grass. I lie down into the pool backwards and feel the water’s pull on me. Tugging insistently. I let go of the shore.


…and I float. Lazily spinning on my back, the two sizes too big jacket buoying my 11 year old body.


When you’re surrounded by nothing, with not a care on one’s mind, one can’t help but let the knowledge of a vast cosmos rush into you. I could go anywhere. Attempt anything. I could explore the world for many lifetimes and never know the fullness of it.


I suppose that was an epiphany of my young life. It’s fitting it seems that both Archimedes and I ended up soggy. Saturated with a newfound perception and knowledge.

The funny thing about that is that knowledge IS like water; fluid, changing, powerful, sustaining, and able to shape the terrain around us. It can also evaporate, dry up, and leave us thirsting for it.


I lost that moment on the Mountain for a time.  My cup was broken and hole ridden. That which it should have held safe was spilt. I forgot there was a wide world with infinite possibilities and I focused on the inconsequential trivia and trivial consequence, a shoegazer with worries aplenty. I let myself be distracted from my goals and dreams to pursue whim and fancy.


I realize that the good in life is not all earned on the turn on the moment, pulled down like fire from heavens. I would like to think that I know and own the mistakes I’ve made.

I have gained a much more slowly won understanding of the work that must be put in, as well as of the rewards that are inherent in such efforts. I can be both storm-watcher, waiting on the tornado that will change the landscape, as well as the patient gardener.


Perhaps I am onlying watching for the opportunity to till the soil. Whether one can grow a storm is yet to be seen.

Suckerpunch Love

Someone came out of the darkness

They cast their knucklebones

Like they were telling my fortune

Hard and fast, I was surprised


But as you’ve now surmised

I don’t fall easily

I’m still standing… slightly irritated


My eyes focus on you.


Lovely as the day is new

Is the face of my enemy to me


No more unpaid bills,

Unspoken words to unsung songs of passion

This is my enemy.

Here is the solution to all my problems

So I point at you and I tell you

“Come here.”

You waver, faltering.

You fear a martial response, I can tell


You don’t know that I need to embrace you.

Brother! Art Thou!

O but Where is the sense in doing that?

My love would be lost on you


So I soldier on

(After all) Custom doth dictate

That I render you pulpy and crimson

Like pomegranate, but less sweet


Then you cracked the fragile shell of my satisfaction

Running off into the night

Your Shock and Awe campaign

Now more of an Aw Shucks situation


Brother, (art thou?), may your feet be swift and sure

You showed me of the humanity that can be found in the dirt

And introduced Love to a Suckerpunch



(Fragment) Sewage

I’ve been spewing sewage…

Like you wanted it

The other day…

You said you wanted it


On that medieval shit

Spreading carnage like a dragon

Fire it up, I’ve got months to live

Better try those sugars that I still haven’t tasted


I’ve sick of houses

They’re all haunted

And apartments

Where the ghosts of our friends live


I could live in a shack by the sea

And count the Sallies by the seashore

One, two, three four, down my throat

I’m hanging with Sass and Molly tonight


they’re fun gals

but so are you

except that I’m not quite sure if you are…


I’m a broken compass

Looking for an mint single-print record

What sounds do you make when you’re kissing the sheets?

And do you only wear your hair that same way every day?


I do

I hate it

I should be liquid

I feel like mercury


Poisonous and quick

Driving men mad,  


A Tale of South Padre (Alternately titled “White Russians”)


White Russians, black morning…

What time is it again?

I hear the tick tock tick tock

The inevitable inevitably cascading down around

This carnage scene


Maybe it’s sin

But sin is in

At least it is if you believe the advertising

Marketing isn’t my major

But it is what I do

Selling myself, selling you

To yourself… isn’t that cool?


They say that a true salesman could sell ice to an Eskimo

Well kid, I sold your confidence to your insecurity

Or was it the other way round?


I run circles around this ballgame

But then we’re just playing in the sand

Dizzy bat major leagues, sorority girl- laser in

On that, like on One.

Don’t fuck my sister mister.


Excuse me?

Throwing ice at Pauly D.

The police were overly concerned

With the state of his blowout

So we jumped out into the car

Behind bars for a very short while

Criminal memories still make me smile

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Velvet Sweet

There’s something about sitting in a dark room, listening to bleeding heart, cut-my-veins music. Slightly inebriated and extremely nostalgic. All the softness of life comes to you and you can’t help but feel at peace, wrapped up in all of life’s velvety sweetness.



Vanilla Extract

(Names edited for privacy)
My friends from back home seem to think my life is full of excitement… but to be honest it’s long boring periods punctuated by very short periods of ridiculousness. I end up with plenty of entertaining stories to tell, but my life is 99% plain vanilla. I’m jealous of people who live fast all the time. I’ve never been able to do it.
Here is one said instance of ridiculous behavior. My friend Stephanie threw a party for a few close friends. I personally ended up naked on a couch outside the room’s window… on the open balcony of the dorm.

Aditya told me about your dad visiting your room. He didn’t finish his story though. What happened?”Stephanie
May 19 at 3:35pm
Oh man… it was a nightmare, Mason.Picture the remnants of the room the night before completely without any type of cleaning whatsoever. All the liquor was still on the “bar” area and the carpet all around was full of blotchy beer/liquor spills. In the bathroom someone had dropped the box full of long neck glass beer bottles, which had shattered all over and the beer and the ice that had filled the box and the bags surrounding the beer formed a 2 inch coating of the floor.The whole suite smelled like booze.

Then there were clothes that people had left…

…. the broken futon …

… MORE liquor bottles….

… the smell of several people vomiting…

…. open bottles of lotion…

After you passed out I realized that everyone else had all popped some ecstasy and so were stripping their clothes and they were taking off our clothes and they raided my lotion stores and everyone was grinding (by this time Aditya and I were the only others remaining besides you passed out…. but we were SO DRUNK) and massaging lotion everywhere and the next thing I remember is arguing with Aditya and looking at the time at finding that it was 5am or some ridiculous time like that…

And everyone was in and out of the room and I just crawled on the bed saying everyone could stay but I was going to sleep and Aditya wanted to shoo everyone out but I told him to leave the door open (I guess I wanted them to retrieve forgotten posessions?? who knows…) and we argued with each other until passing out…

… until 10:30AM when I hear a knock on the door, which I answer… scantily clad and WEARING it HARD from last night, only to find my FATHER…

I rush Aditya out and throw ALL the liquor bottles into ANOTHER box and put it in the bathroom stall on the other side of the suite (where it remains)…

but dad figured it out. All of it. I refused to lie and I was in such deep shit. He had a 30 minute “man to man” talk with dAditya and several talks with me and it wasn’t pretty but he understood that it was pretty much just juvenile irresponsibility and us getting totally carried away… not the blatant disrespect that he thought it was.


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