i used to change location at the drop of a hat. the slightest opening and i'd be there before the hat hit the floor. now there's leases. unpaid bills. coworkers i've watched grow up. bosses who've watched me grow into myself. friends that have gone out of their way to stay friends. i'd actually miss the place i was leaving for once. how weird is that?
how sad is it that if i was given the opportunity, i'd probably say no and spend countless nights awake hating myself for doing it (or NOT doing it, rather).
y'know what? fuck it. i'm a little too drunk for this, and tomorrow will be awesome (once i clock out), and sunday will be even better. awesomefest is next weekend and no one will believe i'm a day over 23. i'll be out of town and laughing like a kid for four or five days. i'll probably sleep through day 5. i'm not saying i won't laugh in my sleep. i'm also not saying i won't pump my fist in my sleep. preemptive apologies to C., who realized for the first time tonight that she's on a lease too and probably shouldn't pick up and move to another city, with OR without me. growing up sucks. i'm not the sort to start comparing our age differences with "i remember when" stories about my first true brush with the harsh realities of a "normal” life... which part of me still knows is bullshit and i should head to san diego a week early, party, then head to some country i’ve never been before with nothing but my guitar, the clothes on my back, and of course a pen and paper. and maybe whatever merch i pick up at awesomefest.
anyway, awesomefest will rule.
sorry to be such a downer. i tend to be sad when i think she might be sad, even though i know she’s even drunker than i. i’ve only had to retype a couple of these words. tomorrow she won’t remember what she’s upset about (hopefully). either way, some morning kisses and everything will be right as rain.
yeah, we’re as close to perfect as YOU’LL ever see.
xFx
20100826
lost, lost, lost
write write write write write until you start making sense. ignore the oppressive 90 degree heat that lingers all night like a jackal, a vulture, a scavenger waiting for you to finally succumb to madness. swallow the urge to sit on your porch and chainsmoke until your inner temperature equals the external, stewing in your own sweat like a slow-cooked ham, minus cloves, cause tobacco's better anyway. your throat is dry but your fingers don't require your voice. your eyes sting but you know where most of the keys are anyway. your head hurts, but the molasses-slow drip of thoughts is easing the pressure. it's turning to water, flowing downhill to the ocean's inevitable embrace where one drop is indecipherable from the others... you are trying to catch pterodactyls with fishnet stockings, but you can write the hosiery anyway you like it, make your own metaphors, draw your own comparisons based on things you've only heard of in dreams, half-remembered images that you can't relate but you must or you'll explode and then you'll never be able to sleep again, with a sieve mind dripping your thoughts onto the desktop; the echo will keep you awake forever.
don't stop, don't move from this spot, don't. even. breathe...
xFx
don't stop, don't move from this spot, don't. even. breathe...
xFx
20100818
5 years running
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
my mantra as i recall his laughter, his voice, his arms around me like he knew it was the last time, his arms around me like he knew he'd see me soon, the similarities between the two. that was one thing about Nate: you always knew where you stood. or almost always. I feel a little guilty now and then for wanting more of him his last time stateside, but as the now-then chasm deepens, so does understanding. i'm pretty he sure he knew and wanted to be with everyone at once.
when my time comes will i sense it? will i sufficiently convey my appreciation for everyone i've known while i still can? should i not do it now? how to begin? like so:
i love YOU. yes, you. i may never have met you, and i may never willn't unless time is not so streamlined as we perceive it.. you may have known me for a short time, a long time, or for a short time a long time ago. You are loved.
After five years i may not be able to recall the feel of his scruff on my chest, but i can vividly remember the love for life and everything living that exuded from him constantly. it seems the only way to truly remember his memory is to keep it going.
R.I.P. Sgt. Nathan Kalani Bouchard
though i sometimes feel i may never recover, right now i am ok.
here's an album for him. one he would have loved, one he would have loved had he heard it.
Fugazi - Red Medicine
The Books - Lost and Safe
__________________________________________________________________________
Finding Comfort
his box remains sealed, they said,
due to the state of remains:
the embalming suffered several setbacks.
the stench of his charred flesh
must have been too close
to barbecue;
they had him
an extra week
(which pales next to
the extra months
he was deployed)
before they gave up and decided
to finish the job begun
in Samarra.
we signed
a paper
acknowledging
that his body is
incomplete.
i'm told i can take comfort in the probability
that he suffered no pain
and didn't have time to realize
he was killed,
but
five years later i am still
staring at his urn.
__________________________________________________________________________________
i miss you terribly, bro. i still don't know if i believe in an afterlife, but you visited me in my dreams the other night and wanted to know how i was doing really. i didn't know how to answer then, but now i'm certain that i'm actually pretty well, even if i still hurt; i've been playing through the pain as long as i can remember. sometimes little brothers teach big brothers something too, even if we don't get the chance to tell you until it's too late. I am in love and feeling good about myself and every thing (most things) around me. I wish you were a supporting character in this chapter of my life too instead of the shadow hanging over the plot from which the mood is derived. I have no idea if that sentence just made any sense, but i think you get it, maybe. maybe you can read what i've been really trying to say this entire paragraph because i simply can not find words anymore to express how scattered i sometimes feel, how unbalanced.
tonight you are heavy.
tomorrow will be easier.
!!!!!
-F.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
five more years will not make me miss him less.
my mantra as i recall his laughter, his voice, his arms around me like he knew it was the last time, his arms around me like he knew he'd see me soon, the similarities between the two. that was one thing about Nate: you always knew where you stood. or almost always. I feel a little guilty now and then for wanting more of him his last time stateside, but as the now-then chasm deepens, so does understanding. i'm pretty he sure he knew and wanted to be with everyone at once.
when my time comes will i sense it? will i sufficiently convey my appreciation for everyone i've known while i still can? should i not do it now? how to begin? like so:
i love YOU. yes, you. i may never have met you, and i may never willn't unless time is not so streamlined as we perceive it.. you may have known me for a short time, a long time, or for a short time a long time ago. You are loved.
After five years i may not be able to recall the feel of his scruff on my chest, but i can vividly remember the love for life and everything living that exuded from him constantly. it seems the only way to truly remember his memory is to keep it going.
R.I.P. Sgt. Nathan Kalani Bouchard
though i sometimes feel i may never recover, right now i am ok.
here's an album for him. one he would have loved, one he would have loved had he heard it.
Fugazi - Red Medicine
The Books - Lost and Safe
__________________________________________________________________________
Finding Comfort
his box remains sealed, they said,
due to the state of remains:
the embalming suffered several setbacks.
the stench of his charred flesh
must have been too close
to barbecue;
they had him
an extra week
(which pales next to
the extra months
he was deployed)
before they gave up and decided
to finish the job begun
in Samarra.
we signed
a paper
acknowledging
that his body is
incomplete.
i'm told i can take comfort in the probability
that he suffered no pain
and didn't have time to realize
he was killed,
but
five years later i am still
staring at his urn.
__________________________________________________________________________________
i miss you terribly, bro. i still don't know if i believe in an afterlife, but you visited me in my dreams the other night and wanted to know how i was doing really. i didn't know how to answer then, but now i'm certain that i'm actually pretty well, even if i still hurt; i've been playing through the pain as long as i can remember. sometimes little brothers teach big brothers something too, even if we don't get the chance to tell you until it's too late. I am in love and feeling good about myself and every thing (most things) around me. I wish you were a supporting character in this chapter of my life too instead of the shadow hanging over the plot from which the mood is derived. I have no idea if that sentence just made any sense, but i think you get it, maybe. maybe you can read what i've been really trying to say this entire paragraph because i simply can not find words anymore to express how scattered i sometimes feel, how unbalanced.
tonight you are heavy.
tomorrow will be easier.
!!!!!
-F.
20100815
Growing Up, Growing Sideways
I'll never understand people who complain about their significant others. If they make you so miserable, leave. Right?
Right? Anyone? I grow so tired of feeling like the only rational person around when it comes to relationships. I'm not just talking about love-life-type relationships either, but also friendships. I just can't seem to wrap my mind around so-called friendships that seem entirely based on putting each other down. Perhaps it's a self-esteem issue, or perhaps it's just some brain disorder. Maybe it's a societal after-effect on a generation raised by the television.
Whatever. I'm no psychologist. I'm just a dude happy in his relationships, surrounded by loving/supportive people. What do I know?
________________________________________________________________________
Growing Up, Growing Sideways (V. 1.3)
yeah, i do what i want and on my own time
so i guess i'm doing alright,
cuz everyone around me's still trying to fit
into expectations three sizes too big.
she's drunk and
bitching about having to wear that ring when it's hot and
her hands are swelling like sausages
and "jesus christ when do the kids go back to school
where they can bully other kids all day
instead of me?"
he's drunk and
swearing that if she don't stop
nagging he'll really leave for good this time
and to hell with the lease and "she wants to get off
the pill but i ain't about to start wearing rubbers,
so i guess i'll be proposing soon enough."
they're
spinning tires at one million RPMs,
gettin' that rut nice and deep before
stalling.
i'm drunk too, but at least i can walk home from here
and tomorrow i can sleep
through my hangover.
-xFTHMx-
__________________________________________________________________
That's just a few of my more lucid reflections on the phenomena. As my 31st birthday approaches, closely followed by my second anniversary, I find myself wondering how I wasted so much time on people who weren't even worth the breath it took to say good bye. Growing old kicks ass, even if my belly's a little softer than it used to be. Growing up on the other hand still holds no appeal to me and hopefully never will. Like Seven Seconds, I'm gonna stay young until I die. How could I ever do otherwise?
Today I'm going to drink a lot of beer and Tiltwheel will rock my face, and The French Exit will make me happier than I've been all week. I will be hoarse for days, not because I've been shouting AT someone, but rather WITH someone, and that's just about the best thing that could ever happen.
!!!!!
johnny.
Right? Anyone? I grow so tired of feeling like the only rational person around when it comes to relationships. I'm not just talking about love-life-type relationships either, but also friendships. I just can't seem to wrap my mind around so-called friendships that seem entirely based on putting each other down. Perhaps it's a self-esteem issue, or perhaps it's just some brain disorder. Maybe it's a societal after-effect on a generation raised by the television.
Whatever. I'm no psychologist. I'm just a dude happy in his relationships, surrounded by loving/supportive people. What do I know?
________________________________________________________________________
Growing Up, Growing Sideways (V. 1.3)
yeah, i do what i want and on my own time
so i guess i'm doing alright,
cuz everyone around me's still trying to fit
into expectations three sizes too big.
she's drunk and
bitching about having to wear that ring when it's hot and
her hands are swelling like sausages
and "jesus christ when do the kids go back to school
where they can bully other kids all day
instead of me?"
he's drunk and
swearing that if she don't stop
nagging he'll really leave for good this time
and to hell with the lease and "she wants to get off
the pill but i ain't about to start wearing rubbers,
so i guess i'll be proposing soon enough."
they're
spinning tires at one million RPMs,
gettin' that rut nice and deep before
stalling.
i'm drunk too, but at least i can walk home from here
and tomorrow i can sleep
through my hangover.
-xFTHMx-
__________________________________________________________________
That's just a few of my more lucid reflections on the phenomena. As my 31st birthday approaches, closely followed by my second anniversary, I find myself wondering how I wasted so much time on people who weren't even worth the breath it took to say good bye. Growing old kicks ass, even if my belly's a little softer than it used to be. Growing up on the other hand still holds no appeal to me and hopefully never will. Like Seven Seconds, I'm gonna stay young until I die. How could I ever do otherwise?
Today I'm going to drink a lot of beer and Tiltwheel will rock my face, and The French Exit will make me happier than I've been all week. I will be hoarse for days, not because I've been shouting AT someone, but rather WITH someone, and that's just about the best thing that could ever happen.
!!!!!
johnny.
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