zechariah

I am a man who would rather make paper sculptures, dance them across his palms, watch them bleed ink and name them with frosted breath. I am a man who loves to re invent the skies paint them purple and red at midnight climb to the stars like the blue eyed sparrow. I am a man who sears into the darkness, hunting for shattered points of light marking time holding ones memories and caressing the skin along my cheek. I am a child who would rather stare down at the earth than look up at the heavens, write my name in the starts and hear the songs sung by motion of the clouds. I am a sleeper who would rather draw my dreams out in the sand, build them like mountains and wrap my arms round them. I am a mechanism of my own desires, yelling my hopes at the sea side, whose heart beats quietly, but whose blood runs strong. I am a man who with closed fists and an open mind, walks fast and speaks slow, lives small and dreams large. I am a man who is just a man, nothing more, nothing less. I am just a man.


I keep memories of places I dont remember being. running through ankle deep streams to misty waterfalls that wash through my childhood. Of shallow reefs and mountains of barreling water that fuel me to propel myself forward as fast as my small legs can move. I find suicidal words written by a child forced to be a man before he was allowed to be a boy, mourning his hero and raising himself with violence. I watch dreams change from the sweet gifts of his new love to the lonely ice covered road on which he will some day end his trip. I count the lines on the hands held out flat trying to decipher the reminders of pain from the badges of pride. I Feel the smooth red curves of a guitar Im afraid to clean, because how am I to know if Im wiping away my fresh fingerprints or the greased impressions of the truckdriver who surely sat it in his lap just moments before I lost him. I see years of wondering why the person I love the most, left, turning to wishing i could tell him of the new person i have been given and knowing he would approve. I see a young man who is nowhere happier than when walking barefoot through the rain, knowing that in just a matter of days his life will be forever better. I know that in order to be the man I am meant to be, I need to start being the man I should have made myself into quite some time ago. For the first time in a very long time I know where I am, I know who I am, I know what I want, I know how to make it happen, and I like myself. Lets just hope it lasts.


Ok I should really stop writing poetry. I am really starting to get frusterated by it. i write things and then it makes me so mad because I have stuff in my head hundreds of times better, and I cant get it out on paper. Oh and the second one was just copied from my last entry (dont know why, just felt like it)


Anyways...

I love Jones Soda (Mutha Fuckin Grape to be exact). I was out and about yesterday thinking about the upcoming visit from my girlie and I decided to get a Jones. Well as anyone who drinks Jones can tell you they have a little fortune written in the cap. I opened my Jones and read the gortune and my small grin became a quite large "shit eating" grin. M yfortune read "The project that you have in mind now gains momentum". Call me silly, but i am superstitious and I took this as a good sign (and kept the bottle cap by the way).

I hope all goes well with this little visit. Im trying to keep it relaxed, not wanting to blow it up too much so as to make sure it all goes well. I love her and just want her to feel the trip was worth the (incredible) distance.

Ok thats about all for now, but seeing as I seem to have a nack for thinking of other stuff to write shortly after entering in my journal, don't be surprised if more is added later.


Thats all.

Zechariah

Update: just got the news that the trip had to be put off for a while (which sucks but eh i cant fault em for not having the money right now) I miss my baby though and want her here. We'll figure something out.

Update 2: The Goonies 2 is in early production stages.