I will not doubt myself or my work or become discouraged in the mass of ideas and well-articulated phrases. Better to be here, curious, overwhelmed, wanting, than one who is convinced she's known and seen it all, or worse, a mindless apathetic clone. I will search through the madness for the word, the line, the way, and I will fight against being affected by myself or any other who looks down upon me for any naivete I may still retain.

I'm an old soul
In this young town
On a dark night
One of the last dark nights
here
I've left to see.
And although I've taken up
Plenty of space
With my distain for
The Smallness
(and I don't mean litterally)
Of this place,
I have found ways,
though few,
To suck water from
Under these streets.

Shutting the front door behind me,
I exit the familiar sleeping house
And acknowledge the bright stars
And my simple love
For the fountain that resides here
In one full beat of my heart.
She has kept me from
de-hydration
(Or worse)
Many-a-time.

And I think to myself
On these empty cool roads
And my silent humming room
I think there are mostly
two types:
Those who strive
for an image, a recognition,
an individuality
And
those who anti-strive
Who look down upon
And distance themselves
From those with a need,
Carrything their own
Unconfronted strife
all the while.

Time spent in the second category
Has added a few "years"
To my climbing count
But with clear eyes
I am left with a desire
To discard the idea of type-casting
And discover what makes
My neighbor's heart beat,
whoever he may be.

And if the pain of waiting
And the pain of hating
Had to be payed
Before I could grasp this knowledge
as my own,
I sleep easy tonight,
knowing they've been
WELL WORTH THE COST.

Aggravated by Apathy.

Etched on your skin in a flashy display of permanence is the exact opposite. Your flighty morals, your ever-shifting ideals, your lifestyle that will veer to encompass what ever is easiest at any given time... it's all there on the surface. And what's worse is it's not just you. It's an epidemic, sweeping the population and contaminating those far and near. Nothing means anything, anymore. In the frantic search for constant stimulation, anything goes--As long as it's watered-down. There is a no-holds-barred attack on anything of value; truth is painful because it forces you to examine the possibility of change. And when everyone's footloose and fancy free, who'd want to change anyway? Happiness has become the god you worship from front porches, never once considering stepping out into reality.

There may be a glorious solidity of knowledge "out there," but you'll never know. You're too encombred by the grey fog into which you've unknowingly chosen to dive headfirst. The scent of comfort has intoxicated your senses, and it's mark is tattooed on your flesh.

I like Andy Warhol and Jack Kerouac because they don't mince around the fact that there is an "IT." They are not blind or deaf to the knowledge of an alternate (but parallel) reality that is undiscovered to most. Not only do they know it, they address it, alerting the masses and inspiring those in the know.

'YOU HAVE TO DO THINGS AVERAGE PEOPLE DON'T UNDERSTAND BECAUSE THOSE ARE THE ONLY GOOD THINGS." -WARHOL

"Dean and I both swayed to the rythm and the IT of our final excited joy in talking and living to the blank tranced end of all innumerable riotous angelic particulars that had been lurking in our souls all our lives..."Sal, think of it, we'll dig Denver together and see what everyone's doing although that matters little to us, the point being that we know what IT is and we know TIME and we know that everything is really FINE."

-On The Road; pg. 209

I WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR SOMETHING THAT MATTERS. I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR SKINNY JEANS AND CONVERSE. I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR LEATHER BAGS AND PILES OF BRACELETS. I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR COFFEE AND CIGARETTES. I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR THE NUMBER OF CONCERT TICKET STUBS HANGING ON MY WALL. HELL, I DON'T EVEN WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR ALL THOSE CONCERTS. I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR BEING UNIQUE. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN A COUNTERCULTURE. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN SYMPTOMS OR THOSE WHO IMITATE THEM.

I WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR SOEMTHING THAT MATTERS.
I WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR TRUTH: the kind that hurts and purifies.
I WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR BEAUTY: the kind that provokes tears and a longing for
something not of this world.
BUT MOSTLY,
I WANT TO TAKE A STAND FOR LOVE: the kind that is a blazing reality that cannot be
imitated, duplicated, or IGNORED.

disarming.
you watching.
imitating.
blatently.
reflecting.

but i never wanted to be the sun.
i only wanted to watch as you squinted
and raised your face to feel the effects
of the burn.

THIS FIRE IS MORE THAN JUST YELLOW FLAME.
and those that are blue have yet to show in your eyes.

they say you'll know a real lion when you see it.
well,
how loud do i have to roar?

masterminds spin webs faster than any human eye can comprehend,

glistening, delicate, webs sticky with the same fluid that makes them shine.

so fascinating...alluring...you want to dive right in, and you do,

not anticipating the way the strands catch and hold.

while you flounder, we stand breathless on the outside, admiring our...masterpiece.