Thoughts are loud. So loud they demand to be heard. But what if those thoughts don't articulate into real words? When you can't even seem to find the right abstract expression? They mass together in your center and you can feel them turning. They are building with each moment they are unspoken and they are prepared to be announced. As you try to speak, a dam holds them back. they can't be let free, because they cannot be understood.

Most of my nightmares terrify me. Usually from the inability to fight. I become completely incapacitated. If for some reason I can fight, it's against shady characters who are trying to convince me to trust them. I usually do.

Sometimes I think I might be living that nightmare now. Only now I can't just wake up to something different. 

But life is fine, ya know? Nightmares end eventually. Just not usually the way we want them to. 

Where it Belongs

Love is the visit you pay
When you walk in unannounced
Because you hoped
I would still be in town.

The moment when I see
That familiar navy blue hoodie
Come through the door-
Your silhouette
Illuminated by the dimly lit window
In that basement bedroom.

When my desire to hold you
Becomes audible,
Because only seconds before
Your presence
Was only an often dreamt dream.
And as I woke,
I unabashedly made my wishes known
Through a most genuine and relieved whimper.

As I lay in your warmth,
I know I am safe.
Mind at ease.
Comfort over comes me.
It becomes me.
Because I know you placed the spare key back
Where it belongs.

No One's Fault

I carry in me a darkness. It hides away. It lines every thought. Some thinly, and other with a coat of insulation from any light. Most often it covers my dreams.

The blackness in me doubts- a veil to hide me from myself. To protect me if ever those dreams should shatter. In this darkness, I won't see the pieces. But I can feel the cutting edges of the hopes I have lost. At least I don't have to see how broken they are.

The wounds of a broken dream might be hidden behind that velvet mask of cynicism. But seen or not, they will bleed. Darkness is no bandage. They have bleed before, from slashes to pin pricks. Scars are there too. Between them it's difficult to find a place of perfect flesh. I want them to be found, to be discovered on purpose and tended too with gentleness and understanding. Some suture to help them heal properly, and treatment to lessen the scars. Until then, I will pretend that I have not been wounded. 

Because it's no one's fault.

Merely the product of a hopeful mind full of doubt and an dreaming heart aching for authenticity. 

New Looks and Adventures in Far Away Lands

The blog got a make over today. As you can see.

If anyone actually reads this, I would love to hear what you think.

In case you DO read this regularly,you will notice I haven't posted much lately. Like, in the past year. I don't know why I had a sudden urge to start posting again, but I did. Maybe I just have a lot on my mind and no where to put it but on the internet where literally anyone could see it.

That, and I realized I really miss it. I miss writing for fun. Like, I actually enjoy this. That's a really big deal right now. I actually enjoy an activity! Even if it is laying in my bed typing, at least I am having fun. I want to start feeling like that about everything. I looked back on some older posts from 2010 and I realize how go lucky and happy I was then. The world was my oyster (I have never ever understood that saying....) and I was ready to take it on. So let's get back to that. I'm up for an adventure.

Speaking of adventure, I will be in the wondrous lands of Europe in the near future, so you can look forward to awesome pictures after I return. I have a new camera and everything. It's an exciting time of year, and I get to spend it outside of my own country! I can't wait to explore a completely new culture!

Signing off for now,
Tom

{in}Human{e}

So I'm a girl.

I know, big shock coming from a blog that so clearly states that IN THE TITLE. However, that is not what this is about (in fact, I don't think anyone has questioned the fact that this is narrated by a female). What it's about is the fact that as a woman [HUMAN] I have a lot of weird feelings. And for the past year and a little more, most of them have been wildly out of control.

I became {in}human{e}.

For the first time in my recollection, I felt truly powerless. I became bitter, afraid, pessimistic. Cruel. I experienced the lowest I have ever felt in my life. And it seemed that nothing helped. As an aid in understanding this feeling, I suggest you take the time to read this post on a wonderful blog (some language). It sums it up pretty well (And the fish part just makes me laugh, so if anything, skip to that and have a good hardy chuckle).

On top of feeling sad and mean, I just started hating myself. I felt like I had potential, and I was just screwing it up. All those things that people told me I was talented at suddenly seemed like they weren't as progressed as others my age who knew what hard work was and how to keep at it without giving up. Everyone seemed to know how to get out of bed in the morning, put on a pair of "I-woke-up-on-the-right-side-of-the-bed" pants, some "#I'mfabulous make-up and go about their day further developing already incredible talents to further put my work to shame. Looking good and being kind while doing it. Everyone turned into someone I wanted to be, and it made me furious. Because I had nothing to offer but a deep furrow hidden someone in a mess of greasy hair and sweatpants that smelled like day-old pizza and salad. And that was on the few days when I actually got up. GREASY HAIR WAS AN EFFORT.

"How dare the world keep spinning while I am miserable."

Everything turned into that. It was about me. Making myself a victim to everything became a horror story that haunted my reality. I became exactly what I loathed. Days melded together and nothing felt right. It seemed I had no purpose other than watching the Big Bang Theory on the DVR and to keep the bed warm. I didn't want to try, because I felt to far behind.

And quite honestly, things have been on and off like that even up to now. I still have days like that. And I definitely don't feel like me all the way again yet. But I have friends who have helped me remember that there's that me still in there. They bring her out to play and smile. Some cuddle her. Some take her on walks. Some go out to eat and just talk about the future as if nothing could go wrong. And two even give kisses on the forehead just to say "I care for you", "We will always stay close", or "You are mine".  In these moments, I remember I have purpose. And I remember I can be something. Maybe even whatever I want. And maybe I wasn't becoming inhuman, but experiencing something to make me more human. More compassionate  I'm not there yet, but it's what I want to become. It's what I am becoming. With a great effort.

But effort feels good.

-Tom

Micro Fiction

So you can decide if this is any good. Have fun kids. It's for a project. 

Movement ceased. Reverently, his dogtags removed.

“Son, I was young once too.”

The wedding ceremony began. A young couple sat in the back, the woman filled with emotion. She watched as the past ended and an undesirable future was sealed with empty promises.

Regret weighed heavily on his chest as his friends celebrated their first drink. He could never warn them against the sorrows that could swallow them whole.

Laughter gently warmed the melancholy hotel stairway and the young man reveled in her brief moment of light hearted youth. He caressed the curves of her smile to remove her tears and for a moment the world was warm again. Love was renewed.

The cold vacant room was still filled with the young man’s belongings. Pictures of his grin plastered the walls. His mother sat beside her memories and wept.

“I said get out! O-U-T, out!’

“I wanna stay in! O-U-T, in!”

She may not have been able to spell, but she understood the importance of tone.

The old town drunkard proudly walked a straight line out of the parlor completely sober. A new man emerged without the stench of whiskey and gin.

No Sleep tonight. The taranchula escaped.   

Have you ever taught a cat to swim? I tried once, but the ocean was probably a bad place to start.

“When a promise to eternity is broken, a guarantee to uncertainty is made.” “I paid 25 dollars for this? What a rip off.” The cheating man walked away, then shamefully placed his wedding band back on his hand.

Honor. That was the promise he made himself as the observed the velvet pastel petals cascade from the familiar, elderly cherry blossoms. He polished his katana with pride and solemnity, then left. Never to return.

Anna adjusted Charles’s bowtie innocently. “This is for ol’ papa Charlie! Mama says we won’t see him for a long while. But she said you could come if you dressed nice!” She squeezed her bear and looked out to see the rain pouring down on the black herse outside.

And so with a bottle of india ink, a soft bristle brush, 3 sketchbooks and 43 dollars in his pocket, he stepped into the boiling New Delhi street alone for the first time.

Over 400 handwritten notes to be remembered by carefully placed at the bottom of each page. None of them were ever seen by him.

Her stubborn silence and private suffering lead to the tarnished ring in it’s new home- collecting debris at on the filthy ocean floor for the rest of eternity.

Wet beach hair- a beauty trademark- and salty skin in the summer sun. Sand sticks to her slender legs and a warm smile completes her.  

Wiping noses and calming nerves- the thankless mother deserves her nap. But the cries of an infant demand more love.

“I bought this awesome music box! The lady who sold it to me said it was cursed or haunted or something, but I think it’s got charm” “What were you thinking? And where’s your car?” “Oh, I totaled it on the way home. But the music box was fine.”

Thousands gathered as the concert began. A young man in a tuxedo spotted an elderly woman who seemed in need of company. “Incredible, isn’t it? So many people are here!” he enthused. “I only wish his father was here to enjoy it with me.” she said as she held back tears.

At 24, Mark looked under the coffee table he grew up with. His awful handwriting and uncoordinated drawings brought back memories of childhood rebellion.

The lure of vacancy called to her. She left alone and let her mind escape in the ecstasy of absence.

In the attic, a letter explaining betrayal grew crisp and dusty with age.

His body ached for her affection, but neglect and rage ran through her veins. Her lifeblood was sustained by the thought of his suffering. He would never love her again.

“Access to nearly limitless knowledge has been achieved sir, and connection has reached a new potential. We will commence the download to your device immediately” “Hold on, let me finish this game of Angry Birds.”

The phone rang at 3:17 am. Disoriented, she rose from the warm sheets to find her phone on her dresser. Sluggishly she answered. “Mrs. Broadshaw?” “Yes? This is her” “We found your husband.”

Vacations are great! Except when you wake up in your brother’s vomit. Then not so much.

An angsty teenage girl was enveloped in her self pity on a lonely Valentine’s day, until a knock at the door ended with a plate of cupcakes and a thank you note from the 4 year old up the street.

Feelings.

I have a lot of them. More than I'm used to. So here's a list of a lot of them. Not all at any one person.

I'm sorry.
I love you.
Why?
I'm lost.
I hate you.
Who have I become?
Woah Woah Woah! Slooow the fetch down.
Worthless.
Bleerrggg...
Screw you!
Hurt.
I admire you.
I can't do this.
I can do this.
Yeeeasss!
Nope.
Sleep.
Try.
Sleep.
Sleep.
Don't try.
Give up.
Sleep.
Forget it.
Sleep.
...
...
...
Wake up. Times already gone. This year is over. Never have one like it again. Wake. Up.

If I've learned anything this year I've learned life doesn't get easier. It gets harder and harder until you have the weight of everything crushing you and leaving you breathless. Not in that tender cheesy loving breathlessness, but the kind you get when its cold outside and your airways constrict. Or when you fall off a kiddie slide and have the wind violently knocked out of you. It's not fun. And it hurts. And sometimes everyone makes it sound like if your airways cconstrict for long enough, you'll be able to breath better later. If you keep getting the wind knocked out of you, it will strengthen your lungs. Now I don't know if physiologically it would be te. But it doesn't seem right to me. You need to relax everything and to just be able to breath again. That's all I want. But it doesn't seem like I will be catching a breath any time soon.

if

Sometimes the feet you are left standing on are kicked out from underneath you. If it weren't for school obligations, honestly, I would be somewhere else now. Anywhere else now. But I have friends I can't let down. Teachers I can't fail. People who might need me. Maybe. If I can stand up and accept responsibility. If.

Reality of Dreams

As I shifted between consciousness and slumber, the thought occurred to me that dreamers are given terrible reputations.

The dreamers who admire the softness of the foxgloves and snapdragons that float across a hollow humid twilight drenched in the Moon's finest sand. Or perhaps the dreamers who observe everything in shades of lilac. Those who touch the stone as it morphs to water which ripples across the vacant space of mind, becoming a chain reaction causing tides to swell. Who see reflections of shadows and shadows of thought. That taste first hand the words that drip from the pages of The Great Gatsby and crave the depth of lightheaded description. From the pseudo-omnipotent perspective, they lift and drift into their predisposed adventure or lack there of.

These dreamers have become a artists of something beyond comprehension, and dive head first into the realm of control. The true masters of reality.

-H.J. Thomas

Russian Techno (русский!)

Once upon a time my brother was in Russia for a couple of years. When he came back, he brought some really catchy music with him that I listened to. I had no idea what it was saying, but it sounded awesome. This one was one of my favorites.



Yeah, I at least know what the chorus means. Sort of. Essentially-- "Robot! I love you!" Yeah, that's as far as I've gotten.

And I love pretty much everything he brought back, because we'd blast it in the car and he'd sing along while I just kinda sang the melody on a generic "lalaladadalala" kind of thing. I had the biggest craving to listen to it because I was listening to new "dubstep" music, and I just wanted some good, clean beats that I could rock to. Russian Techno is just the best.

You're on to something Agnes...

"It has been wisely said that we cannot really love anybody at whom we never laugh"

- Agnes Repplier

When it's because they're awkward with mustaches....

Or when we make silly faces...

Or when we just can't seem to get a decent photo...

Intentionally or not....

When we wrestle and pretend we don't want to....

Or when we do things that are just absolutely wrong...

When I want to punch them....

When I miss them...

When I am so beyond disgusted with them....

And when I'm decaying---

and screaming with them....

I'm so glad they make me laugh. I love my friends and family. 

So don't forget to giggle.

Cupcakes Ruin My Moping Moments.

Well this is a pleasant surprise. For some random reason my blog has been exposed to an awful lot of countries around the world. It's super nifty! I've had occasional visits from other nations in the past, but it seems like a bunch of cool people around the world have somehow managed to get here, almost as if on purpose. I'm excited about that! I hope the views continue. Not that I have anything important to say, but it's still fun to feel important. High five to all you awesome people!

In other news, surgery went well, I recovered just fine and today I got my stitches taken out!! I can type normal again! No more one handed silliness. Now I have a "7" shaped scar forming and a few holes on the sides of my middle left finger, but it's semi-usable. The biggest plus? I don't have a gross lump on the side of my finger! I can move it without feeling like it's going to pop.

Now on to another highlight of the day.

I was feeling a little down because of how some events of the day unraveled. Long story short, I was upset because I feel like I've been letting down someone who I used to consider a role model and they seem to be unhappy with me. So I moped around having no motivation to do anything. Out of my window I can hear some little kids talking to each other. I assumed it was for the neighbors, but hoped they were people I knew who randomly showed up at my house to give me food. Next thing I know, there's a knock on the door. I go upstairs to find three little kids from my neighborhood holding a plate with four big homemade cupcakes. Just for me. I had helped them a while back with something which I don't recall now, but it wasn't anything big. But they thought of me and gave me something to smile about. I love little kids.

Hope you find something to smile about too. Happy Valentines Day :)

Love,
Tom

I love this man.

Thank you for giving me some things to smile about :)

I have a thing for big bulgy eyes

Yes. I just posted. But with that kinkajou on my mind I had to post more adorable animals. Here are some of my favorites.

Fox Bats & Fruit Bats

Creepy? Maybe. But look at the eyes!! :D

Pugs & Boston Terriers

Awww, they look so ignorant and cute! The pug is sticking out his tongue!!

Teacup Pigs & Ryan Gosling 

Don't even tell me you can say no to those faces. See here for proof of teacup pigs. And Ryan Gosling... no woman, nay, no man could deny that smolder.

Foxes & Frogs

O hai, just dooin mai fing. Kan I halp yoo? 

Geckos & the Ugly Baby Shark

Even ugly baby shark is cute. Look at his gross bulging eyes! It's like he's just shouting "LOVE ME..." and the gecko is just awesome. And he knows it. 

Cownose Ray & The Blowfish

Water animals are so weird. And just funny. Cownose rays look like they smile from underneath and feel like velvet covered in slime! Aww!! Slime! :D :D

Sea Turtles &Tootless

Well since the sea turtle is one of the few rare animals I have seen in it's habitat, it now holds a place in my heart. And toothless is awkward :)

Anger Management Turtles

No more caption needed.

I Love the Idea of Open Flesh and Synovial Fluid.

Grody grody grody grody grody....

Oh sorry, I'm back from looking at google images of ganglion cysts. I don't recommend it.

And on that happy note, I get surgery tomorrow!! Is it a big deal? Probably not. Sounds like a simple procedure in which they will open my flesh on purpose and remove something my body has naturally produced. 

But grody grody grody....

I don't like open wounds! I don't know how functional my hand will be. Sure, it's not my dominant hand, but still!  I haven't every had my body opened on purpose!! I don't like the sound of it... Sad face :(

Well enough with the complaining. Let's find something positive! 

Like guitar! I like that thing. It's good to me. And honey filled plastic bears. They are good too. 

And this adorable animal I studied in third grade!

THE KINKAJOU!!

The image came up when I searched for the honey bear picture... and I put this picture up instead of said honey bear. It's cuter and a little more unique. Say it with me... "Awww...." :)


Click it. I dare you to deny the cuteness up close as he stares into your soul. 

Songs Without Words

There is something powerful in a song without words. Today I rediscovered that treasure that I set aside for too long.













You can tell that I like the mournful songs and the deeply involved.... if at least one of these didn't capture you...

Why I Hate Henry David Thoreau

Some might ask why anyone would ever hate such a prestigious man. His writings are brilliant, they are bold and uncaring of what society thinks. And of course, he preaches nonconformism. He wants you to follow your conscience. How could I possibly hate this man?
Because I think he's nuts. So here is my letter to you, Mr. Thoreau.

Dear Mr. Thoreau,

Yeah, sure. Go live in the woods for a few years. Then tell me how awesome it was and how enlightened you now are because of it in your writing. It's cool. I wish I could ditch all responsibility too, but I would rather accomplish something that benefits other people than achieve some weird personal equilibrium. (Let's be real here, I won't ever be at an equilibrium.# Thanks though. You get an A for effort. But it's pretty selfish, so I'm gonna have to also give you an F for being a pansie and running away from your problems instead of facing them head on, like most people do. Not to be insensitive to your tough life, but come on. No offense. I'm just acknowledging the truth as I see it and going off of my conscience here. Like you say I should.

Oh, and you know that whole spiel on finding truth and accepting eternal realities and all that? That'd be great. Except you kinda refused to accept the reality that society isn't a demon set on ruining your life as an individual. Yes, society is stupid sometimes and they make retarded rules too, but they are good for some things. Like making murder illegal. That's a good one. And taxes #you know, the ones you never paid?), while they can be ridiculous, are often put to good use! Like making roads and schools and things like that. Society can be awesome!

I know you have the best intentions when you are telling us about nonconformism and that following society is bad, which is why I regret to inform you that preaching to me about nonconformism is really telling us to conform.... Just throwing that out there. Saying that you should be able to follow your conscience? Good! Even saying that you should stand up for your beliefs? Also good! Telling me that the rails ride upon me and that my life is too busy when you don't even know me or what I wish to accomplish? Twinges one of my nerves. And making me feel like you hate America because it has a form of government at all? Also upsets me. I'm a little patriotic okay? Sue me.

And to conclude, one of the biggest reasons I hold a high distaste for you? You sound like a way more sophisticated younger version of me. A version that still comes out every once in a while. One that I'm not as fond of as the me I am now. When expressing things, I think I might get a little preachy... So I like to think I understand you a little bit. Am I saying I am as great as you have been claimed to be? Not by a long shot. But I get you.You are passionate about how you feel. And for that, I give you the most respect. Just don't make me feel obligated to follow you. I respect you. But I hate you a little bit. Or a lot, but that's mostly because I am forced to read you because you're writings are... famous. And "good".

Sincerely,
Tom

Bitter, breaking, bland and brash-
A censored thought is outward cast,
Time so senseless and time deprived
has often passed with one surprised,
Tick tock... tick tock... the moments never to be regained.

Brilliant, bold, beastly, broad,
Now eyes cast downward as they trod,
Once so youthful with more to give,
Struggle now for breath to live,
Back and forth... Back and forth... the motions seem the same.

Love,
Tom