Am I really thinking of leaving?....
Strangely enough, there IS something to be said for the endless romance of this little heart-shaped state.
I was born, raised, and tarnished here; it has seduced me into calling it home.
On a crisp spring afternoon, when rain falls for no reason, the light can catch the leaves and grass in ways that make your world seem mysterious and furiously bright.
When the rain pushes harder and the sun disappears, you may wonder if it will ever come back.
You might wait for eight or nine days, pleading with invisible strangers.
You may forget what sunshine ever looked like, and then feel silly when it eventually comes back.
As your car passes along an endless state route, you might see orange in the distance on the horizon, and you might see a group of cows that remind you of compassion, love, and tenderness.
I have cried in my car watching cows straggle along the thin roads.
I have insisted that cows looked like people I know and made cellular telephone calls to loved ones about such sightings.
I saw a cow just now that looked so much like you for some reason, I might stammer onto an answering machine, it was so goddamn beautiful.
You might begin to find it hard to pass by a house, the only in over five miles, and not assume there is a perversion of normalcy inside.
I suppose this could be true with any state, any town, any house.
Normalcy is less and less realistic every day anywhere in the world.
There are no hidden inbred sanctuaries, you will know the collected sons and daughters when you see them.
You might see something true behind the black of their eyes for just a moment, and then it will disappear.
This is hope in the heart land.
Driving, I can always sense that someone is 15 years old nearby.
Someone is in a room, with the door shut, growing their hair long and wild.
Someone is bored and huffing gasoline with a good friend.
They might have an old Metallica album, or it might be something equally as uninteresting.
Theres likely a chance that they even have matching combat boots and maybe long jackets, their fashion sense frozen in some post-nuclear nineties fantasy.
Basically, they have no other choice.
Even together they are alone.
Aspirations lay with the convict gathered garbage on the sides of the thin gravel streets.
Someone in Ohio is kicking a cat,
and they dont have to push compassion aside.
Like blindness from an eclipse, its been washed away.
It could be chipping white decade-old paint, or plastic, dust free siding.
Every house has completely endless secrets...
And no one in the heartland will admit their pain.
Any pain that countryside Ohio life may bring really can disappear at the sight of something lush, real, and green.
That eerie glow between scattered raindrops and partial sunlight can bring anyone to their knees.
The bowie-esque glamour and unearthly power of a greenish morning mist reveals honesty just long enough....
to make knowing that you will never lose face to your demons all the more painful.
As a child, I spent almost every evening jumping off a hill in my backyard.
I took plastic grocery bags outside and jumped with them in my hands.
I was hoping the wind would catch beneath them and I could fly.
I didnt want to fly away, I think I just wanted aerial perspective.
Strangely enough, there IS something to be said for the endless romance of this little heart-shaped state.
I was born, raised, and tarnished here; it has seduced me into calling it home.
On a crisp spring afternoon, when rain falls for no reason, the light can catch the leaves and grass in ways that make your world seem mysterious and furiously bright.
When the rain pushes harder and the sun disappears, you may wonder if it will ever come back.
You might wait for eight or nine days, pleading with invisible strangers.
You may forget what sunshine ever looked like, and then feel silly when it eventually comes back.
As your car passes along an endless state route, you might see orange in the distance on the horizon, and you might see a group of cows that remind you of compassion, love, and tenderness.
I have cried in my car watching cows straggle along the thin roads.
I have insisted that cows looked like people I know and made cellular telephone calls to loved ones about such sightings.
I saw a cow just now that looked so much like you for some reason, I might stammer onto an answering machine, it was so goddamn beautiful.
You might begin to find it hard to pass by a house, the only in over five miles, and not assume there is a perversion of normalcy inside.
I suppose this could be true with any state, any town, any house.
Normalcy is less and less realistic every day anywhere in the world.
There are no hidden inbred sanctuaries, you will know the collected sons and daughters when you see them.
You might see something true behind the black of their eyes for just a moment, and then it will disappear.
This is hope in the heart land.
Driving, I can always sense that someone is 15 years old nearby.
Someone is in a room, with the door shut, growing their hair long and wild.
Someone is bored and huffing gasoline with a good friend.
They might have an old Metallica album, or it might be something equally as uninteresting.
Theres likely a chance that they even have matching combat boots and maybe long jackets, their fashion sense frozen in some post-nuclear nineties fantasy.
Basically, they have no other choice.
Even together they are alone.
Aspirations lay with the convict gathered garbage on the sides of the thin gravel streets.
Someone in Ohio is kicking a cat,
and they dont have to push compassion aside.
Like blindness from an eclipse, its been washed away.
It could be chipping white decade-old paint, or plastic, dust free siding.
Every house has completely endless secrets...
And no one in the heartland will admit their pain.
Any pain that countryside Ohio life may bring really can disappear at the sight of something lush, real, and green.
That eerie glow between scattered raindrops and partial sunlight can bring anyone to their knees.
The bowie-esque glamour and unearthly power of a greenish morning mist reveals honesty just long enough....
to make knowing that you will never lose face to your demons all the more painful.
As a child, I spent almost every evening jumping off a hill in my backyard.
I took plastic grocery bags outside and jumped with them in my hands.
I was hoping the wind would catch beneath them and I could fly.
I didnt want to fly away, I think I just wanted aerial perspective.
I hope I don't look like a cow though.....
UZI is super cool also. Take good care of him!!