Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Why Do I Suck at Titles

People are richly complex, in-depth, and beautiful,
And you and I are no exception.

I am a lyricist, putting pieces together,
Making puzzles into holes, and emptying time,
Trying to fit in music and rhyme.

We all live the dreams we make,
And the nightmares that make us shake,
And any way you try to put it you could still say,
You could still say we'll be wrong for another day.

And what if we're all wrong? What if none of us are right?

I am a dreamer, not a doer,
I'd rather live in my mind.
But you have to sketch it out sometimes,
Imagination to life,
Trying to find what goes right.

People hold tight to meaningless things,
And you and I just do the same.
It's easier that way.

There's so much more than what you and I say,
What we see,
So much deeper than we'd like to believe.

I am a lyricist, writing out my soul,
Because how else am I supposed to feel?
The words I speak, the way I breathe, hold on tight to destiny,
And then let tomorrow go.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

SPIDERS and Basically a Nice Summary of How My Brain Works

There is a spider in my bathroom and I don't know where it is!

Basically I fell asleep at 7:00 PM and woke up 4 hours later at 11:00 PM (ish, there are minutes involved here). So then I tried to get back to sleep.

But, "Tristan! Tyler!" my mom called. Repeatedly. And had me get up and lift Tristan onto the bed. I was awake. Do not fall asleep by accident on your mother's bed. She will wake you and make you do things.

Anyway. So I'm awake now, my phone buzzes, I check it. I make a couple of posts, Google a thing (spoon theory to share with my mom, if you know if it I've basically been doing the mental equivalent of eating cereal with a fork for the past two months, I am OUT OF SPOONS), and.

Nope. Wide awake still. So I head downstairs. Mom complains because, as per usual, the dogs follow me. Even though I try to get at least Tristan to stay with her. Nah, man. He isn't having any of that.

So at about 1:30 or so I decide to take a shower because, I feel gross. I get into the bathroom.

Giant-ass spider behind my toilet. If you're South of me you probably would patiently say, upon seeing this spider, "Kuna... That's not a very big spider." But just assume it is decently-sized, okay, it is BIG ENOUGH. So I'm terrified because BIG SPIDER IN THE BATHROOM. I am like "I should free it" but you KNOW I am going to fail at that, I would be far too freaked out to take it outside. So I pick up an air freshener (it was the size of the bottom of this thing) and point it at the spider. I move it back and forth a couple of times.

...I can't do it. The spider is sitting there, I can't tell if it's -poisonous- venemous, it just. I can't. The spider deserves to live too. So I feel guilty.
And then I feel guiltier because it will probably die a slow and torturous death of starvation, I am terrible no creature deserves to starve.
And then I reason I can't kill it, it is behind my toilet, what if I slam it and it is not dead? Nope, too risky, there's my excuse.

So about to pee my pants I stare at it for like a minute, and then carefully sit on the toilet. I relax just enough to start peeing and then I turn around just enough to see it from the corner of my eye.
I actually wished for a penis. This was the first and will likely be the last time.

So then I get ready to go into the shower, and it starts moving. I freak out a little, quietly, but then triple and quadruple check my shower and it is free of bugs so I hop in.

I think of the spider that was here a year ago. What if this spider is seeking revenge because my mom killed it? No no no that thought is INSANE. I push it outside.

And then, my sentimental dumb self starts to get attached to this spider. It is a good spider. It will kill all the bugs. I think of it affectionately.

I get out of the shower.

It's gone.

I look for it, check various places, nope can't see it. It was on the wall, there is crapall for it to hide. Oh god, it's on the shelf in my stuff...

I start to get horror movie images of it climbing into my mouth. Biting me and killing me. Turning into a giant spider and squashing me (okay, this one is kind of comical). I think of every horrible thing that can happen involving spiders and imagine, with at least some detail, it happening to me with this spider that is now hiding somewhere.

I regret reading the SCP. I regret playing/reading/watching any horror ever. I begin to have an existential crisis that lasts all of a minute.

And then I flee to the living room, prostrate myself on the couch, and start writing about this stupid spider.

...I really hope it doesn't starve.

Sunday, August 7, 2016


Nobody wants to be called 'evil'
But the truth is we're all a villain
In somebody else's tale.

In the end of the dust and the breeze
We'll all fade away,
With memory and patience,
Because life never stays.

And I'd like to see a love that really lasts forever,
When it seems all the fairy tales end.
No hero stays a hero in a world determined to break you.

When you're there there's only one thing to see,
It's the heartbreak symphony, cacophony,
Love songs and brokenness can't quite explain this end.

And you can write lyrics into poetry
And try to pretend when really
It's obvious you're not okay.

You're determined the ending's coming,
You've determined that you're done.
But something keeps you here, anyway,
And it's killing you, every day.

So you walk further down that road,
Never looking back.
And when your map fails you,
And when the road ends,
What will you do then?

All your secrets add up somehow,
Into your greatest mystery.
You can't tell the truth, but then again...

Here's to hoping that all the good things,
You still think of from time to time,
Come to find you once again.
Come to fix your heart like they never did before.

Nobody wants to be called 'evil',
But the truth is no-one's a hero,
We're all just kids playing pretend.