Update

So some of our friends own an art gallery and they asked me to play for the anual first-friday-of-the-month-"ART WALK". Very excited and well...nervous. I have a rough draft of songs I want to play but im still searchin.

I cant let this control me

I'm scared.
things are... uncertain...

D-E-A-T-H

He lay there. Wondering why had dirt in his hair. Twiddling his thumbs he let the darkness lull him to sleep. And when he woke he was expecting the sunshine, but instead he saw black.
this is death, this is death. I will awaken you. from your death from your death, or....I...will...join you.

She lay there. the covers pulled up to her chin. Shivering she wondered why there was a stain on the ceiling. Her heart was not beating, because it was a million miles away with him. this is death, this death. I will awaken you. from your death from your death, or....I...will...join you.

They lay there. The stars melting down on their faces. Breathing they let the night invelope them. And when the siren blared out across the field. They hummed their song. This is death, this is death. I will awaken you. from your death from your death, or....I...will....join....you....

but not...if i have to.

L-O-V-E

A woman walked into a book store. Her nose running, hair dripping wet from the rain. Eager to find a good book to distract her from the nervous pit that was now growing in her stomach. Her face flushed she walked past the man behind the counter too focused to notice the smile on his face and the sound of him clearing his throat. He played with his hands as he watched her wander from book shelf to book shelf. Tears fell as she ran her hand across an unpleasantly familiar book. She held it close to her and wiped her cheeks. Finally looking at him she walked closer to the counter. His heart thumped with each step she took. Gently setting the book down she smiled and asked how much it was. He had to put his hand over his mouth before he blurted something stupid. All that he wanted to say he had to push farther and farther down into him as he said
" twelve dollars"
She started to get the money out of her purse but he put his hand on her arm. For a moment they stood staring at each other. He wanted the moment to last forever but sensing her discomfort he handed her the book.
" i't's on me"
She raised an eye brow as if he was joking. But gratefully took the book and stuck it under her arm.
"Thank you"
she whispered.
Another moment looking into her eyes. Then she turned and headed for the door. He watched as her hair swayed back and forth. She darted out into the rain...and was gone. The wind slammed the door and all that he was left with was silence.
"thats my favorite book too."
he said to no one in particular.


copyright.

My stang

It's falling apart.
It's a piece of crap.
It's blue.
I love it.
I can see myself driving far far far away in that thing. Away from this town. This state. Maybe even this country. (although i think the only countries you can drive to are canada and mexico. unless well you have a submarine car...and lets face it...who can afford one of those????)
My stang.
it's just a small thing but means so much. Freedom....broken bones...if a car wreck is involved.
music, bug guts. everything. I want to drive away.

A big blob

I want to paint....and eat food....that doesnt have to be microwaved...i want to dance in the middle of the road....and play my guitar ontop of a building....i want...i want ....i want.....am i greedy??