New Years Thoughts

Truth can always be found even in emptiness and despair.  The hard part is accepting it for what it really is.  We blind ourselves to the prospect of truth, to the answers that lie within the dark wonders of the soul.  It is much easier to live in this fictitious reality, but the day will come when you wake to darkness and what you believed is empty and gone.  And the day will come when you catch your reflection, in a mirror, on the back on a spoon, in a puddle and you realize how empty you really are.  A hollow cynic, an expert novice…a fabulous liar.  And you’ll ask yourself “Is this what I’ve become?” trapped in a lifestyle of solitary confinement.  All the drinks, all the bars…all the women, have equaled nothing.  All they have brought is an inherited sadness that has been documented in blood and bar tabs.  Strewn across pages of life.  I think of the ones I’ve really loved and how I was never able to tell them.  Always to scared of being crushed.  Scattered into a million pieces and hung in the night sky.  Branded a failure.  These words are written on the eve of a new year.  A day of alleged change, but will 24 hours make a difference?  Will they change these years of failure and solitude?  Or will all this elude me for an eternity?  Will I be doomed to lay awake at night and imagine myself in their embrace?  Or do people really change?  If only time can tell, then I hope it’s soon, because I’m running out. 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1….

Infamy

My nights are cold

I spend them thinking about all the women...

The promises I never kept

the look in their eyes...

The moment they finally realized I was a fraud.

I can't blame them.

Pain is the only thing that

keeps life real.

The only thing that separates it

from becoming boring binary code.

I take my drags,

I chase my shots.

I write these words of self loathing.

And still...they, I, am incomplete.

The women I've fucked

the women I've made love to

the women I've thrown away

the women that got away.

The all took a piece of me,

a souvenir they look at

when they are alone,

when they want to remember

the best mistake of their lives.

But don't flatter yourself old boy

the very mention of your name

brings a hardened face, the look of a ghost.

Vacant eyes,

distant memories.

Casey Alvarado

Casanova of whores and goddesses alike.

Prince of swine,

scum of the earth,

heart of gold,

bruised angel.

All of the above or none of the above,

that remains to be seen.

But to all of you future prospects,

remember...

Adventure and infamy have their price,

so ask yourself;

What am I willing to pay?

Path to the Guardians of Salvation

In youth,

we have a universal understanding of nothing.

We carry the beliefs of our parents

and those before them.

We've become displaced;

an awkward dance of offbeat footwork.

These half witted epiphanies

of self realizations are but

mere glimpses at the truths we neglect to see.

Our lives have become

about everything except living.

Yet we're content with traffic

and the five o'clock news.

The struggles of self discovery

have been replaced by

convenient typecasts of who we ought to be.

And though I am not alone

in the journey of self discovery;

I am alone.

Gone are the companions of truth,

and the women behind

all revolutions.

Despite the long path ahead of me,

I will persevere.

Possessed by the spirit of warriors past

and the promise of change,

we will prevail.

At dawn I will call out

my battle cry of revolution

and continue into the abyss,

until my restless soul no longer wanders.

Until we may finally be at peace,

with our true guardians.

Until we will be at peace,

with ourselves.

The Dialogue Of Love, Will Tear Us Apart

The picture I had in my head when I penned this was that of a shabby room (of which, unfortunately I'm much to accustomed to).  It's dark and there is just a little lamp on and it's a shitty room with a bed and two nightstands on each end of the bed.  And a table by the door.  A typical shitty room.  It's raining and from the looks of it it's late.  The ash tray is overflowing.  The room smells of smoke and whisky and perfume.  It's the living out of a suitcase lifestyle.  The down and outs.

 

She stood in front of me naked, except for that painted on smile she always wore after a few drinks.  The rain taped the window, mocking me, calling me out, exposing me for what I really was.  And for the first time, that night I that we'd become the furniture.  Stagnate, stationary, and sanitized.  We'd become mummified into the images we'd projected of ourselves.

"I know you don't really love me."

She broke the silence with a sharp honesty neither of us were ready for.

"You think you're different, or special and that you're meant to be alone.  But I don't think that's it at all.

I sighed, "I didn't ask you what you thought, and I really don't give a shit about your drunken half realizations."

"You're just scared.  You're just scared you're going to love someone so much one day that you'll have no mystery left.  And you'll be at their complete disposal.  You're just a scared little boy who needs to be miserable.  We all see you for who you are...you couldn't fool anyone if you tried."

She said it like it had been building.  They weren't words, it was an exhale.  It was her body purging these feelings she'd been trying to keep inside.  It was her exhale of freedom.

"If you know me so well then why the fuck are you still here?"

"Because I love you"

"You don't love me.  You love the thought of love; the concept, of never having to be alone again.  You'd love anyone who'd give you the time of day."

"You should know."

"At least I'm smart enough to know the only person worth loving is myself.  Loving someone else is just fellatio of the soul.  You lift them up to the highest point then let them fall farther then they were before.  Love and God are words people like you use to keep from living a real life."

"Ohh but bars and whores are a real life.  You're a miserable bastard."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I hate you."

"Now your getting it.  One minute you wanna fuck me, now you wanna fight me.  Beautiful feeling isn't it."

Sobbingly she whispered.

"I hate you."

Brothers in Arms

We were brothers once,

do you remember those days?

We were brothers in arms

sinning our lives away.

Kings of Verona

that's what they'd say

Look at those two,

sinning their live's away.

But now you found someone better

and the party was over the day you met her

So when you wake up five years

down the line and you realize your miserable

remember I told you so.

We were brothers once,

do you remember those days?

We were brothers in arms

sinning our lives away.

You had a brother in me,

that's what they'd say

but to you friends are seasons

and she was easy

so I hope your happy

And you can live with the decisions you've made.

Modern Savage

The beautiful purity

of self destruction.

Minimize yourself to perfection.

Feel the whiskey

brew in your stomach

and measure your life in sin.

The bigger the sin,

the better the time.

So live your life

and to hell with what they say.

They are a dime a dozen

and you are a diamond

so live in the bars,

on the streets,

in these words

and show them what they can never be.

Because if your days are numbered

and today is your last,

you can smile and bid the world adu.

Even death will fear us,

the modern savage,

the scum of the earth

with a heart of gold.