"I could leave this agony behind which is just what I'd do....

Pints of black gold, pub filled to the brim, singing songs with arms over others' shoulders, the memories almost seem dim....

i clink glasses of Guinness with newfound friends
only to have the pint glass crack apart
like an Easter egg.

There was no malice involved, but staring at it in an inebriated state
it served to remind me that after all this time
my heart is still a broken light bulb,
the filament long gone out.....

someone just asked me tonight almost mockingly if i ever felt lonely, but the naked truth was that i feel as though i am surrounded by mediocre people
 that give life that shitty sour milk smell...

the kind that you wanna throw out but it still lingers
heavily in the air regardless of how many time zones
you can cross over.

so no, i am not aching for companionship from certain individuals...but rather feeling stretched rice-paper thin and time-worn from tap-dancing for these idiots with their eggshell personality conflicts and hyper-sensitive modus operandi....

whenever i hear these chords..my eyes close and my lips open softly and silently to form these words...so goes my heart into my mouth....

and it becomes something else until the end of the tune....

until the heart i am left holding
is a jagged arrowhead of a thing
with the veins spreading out in crystal spidery threads
wondering why i am the way that i am

and that this song almost murders me thinking of Irish films, Czech women, and Cambridge, Massachusetts things...

"..between the click of the lights...is the start of a dream.."

i opened my eyes today.

they have been shut for so long, who knows what i could have seen inside of a year in Asia?

Contract renewal , visa woes, student debt leaves me bereft without wine, woman, and song....

so i reach down inside and drink deep from where i once was.

i still remember the cold, clear taste.
sharp as the night air stinging my eyes.

i left Ori Station and two friends who were departing too recently for unfamiliar shores. i wish them well with their wedding plans and i am astonished that i knew them so briefly in the Great Golden Handcuffs...

a sense of purpose eludes me with fragmented personality, whiskey sours in the wee hours of the morning, missing Massachusetts and loved ones aplenty. foklore aside i have not finished this very protagonist's tale. i stumble and bumble my way through ill-conceived plans and waking dreams..

for what once was clear as pale moonlight
has become polluted
as smog-smothered stars 'neath U.S. occupied territories.

methinks a change best be in order to
circumnavigate these treacherous waters
and black sails in the sunset.

When my ship finaly comes into its port of calling
we will know whether the worth of the journey
was made in earnest or not...

drunken lullabies notwithstanding,
hear me sigh unto angels
and beer bottles to ring in some cautious rebirth
of where i should be standing in two summers time.

Once again the adventure begins!!