You etched me down on paper with black ink, to be remembered for ages.
And I can’t say the same,
Save for the songs dedicated to you in hopes that you’ll hear them someday soon.

Sometimes

you miss
things that weren't
particularly good


for you.

My fingers are weak
mashed against this wood and strings
Trying to be the perfect way to say
the things I can't

“It should have been different
It could have been easy
But pride has a way of holding too firm to history”

I don’t want to play music today.

I decided to throw chaos into my day at 9:17 this morning after my therapist didn’t show.

And for a split second my stupid mind convinced me that nobody wanted to help me.

So I drove an hour and a half to go see my dad and he told me the same thing only kinder.

He said, “there might not be anybody now but I’m sure there will be soon.”

How pathetically put.

And so here I’m sitting, drinking at 2:23 pm.
Missed it by that much.

I want to date all your friends.

I want to throw toxins into those relationships to see if they will put up with it.

To see if they’ll care enough to stick around like I think that I would.

When really I probably should just get laid.

No emotions. No repercussions. No expectations.

How healthy that would be.

Or maybe I just want to love for the sake of love itself.

Catching every feeling entirely too early and throwing it into the ocean to float away.

I’d like to pick a fight with whoever made up this game in the first place.

Throwing jabs at the sky like I could almost reach it.

And so here I am at 3:28 pm still drinking.

Hiding behind the me that I’ve chosen to show everyone.

The drunken, addicted philosopher wannabe.

I haven’t had a good cry since the last time.

Maybe I’m due to “lose my mind” for a week or two.

Maybe I’m due my next grandstand song.

Or maybe just to smash a guitar on the hardwood.

I think I was in love with you before I knew what love was.

I think I might know now.

But it’s of no consequence.

What a glorious day it is.

I’m glad to have cheated death with you again.

Let’s make sure to make him chase after us.

Before we got old things were so much slower than they are now.

Promise me things will slow down before the light goes out.

I don’t mind the way things worked out for me.

Then again I don’t like them either.

I’ve got my grandfather’s blood.

And his ****** eyes.

Maybe neither are that bad after all.

So here I am at 4:17 pm still drinking.

I think if you’re giving more than you’re taking,
You have leverage for life.

I assume that’s why I am the way I am.

It clicked instantly the way a G-pen does.

I think I’m stunted because of my desire to people please.

So cyclical and damning.

Thinking that it’s authentic.

That, at my own discomfort, making everybody’s lives easier is what makes me happy.

A big thank you to how I was brought up and the way my parents raised me for that.

How hard is it to give a **** really?

When it’s 1997 and you’ve got a three year old and another on the way life counts the cards.

And maybe I’m just looking for a way to show them that I was right.

That when my process was put to use and the pressure was on I came through.

And growing what they had made was just me trying to repay them for as good of a life as they gave me.

They did the best they knew how.

They’ve always done the best that they knew how.

And I’m trying to do the same. But…

I’m the son of a woman and man who barely made it.

But we’re making it built together on borrowed crutches and new starts.

So here I am at 6:44 pm still drinking.

I cannot sum it up in words.

They aren’t enough.

I don’t want to play this character anymore.

I need rest that lasts months.

I don’t think people abandon people they love.

I think people abandon people that they’re done using.

But you’ve had to mask it all for a very long time.

Most likely masculine since our western society loves that.

And I’m caught by it.

Or at least I was for most of my life.

And it stunted me on all fronts.

But I’m grateful for what I’ve had and learned thus far.

My friends seem to like me and I think I’m starting to as well.

Behind closed doors you’ll find a slew of doubt.

About everyone, about everything.

But…

Hard work is greater than talent.

Because talent is a variable.

Nobody can wake up one day and say, “you know what? I think I’m gonna up my talent today.”

Happiness on the other hand is a constant choice.

Firmly planted in a bed of belief and structure.

It helps to have people around you who are likeminded.

High frequency friends.

But then again those same people can be the downfall of your ideals.

Of your authenticity.

Caressing yourself into a comfortable mindset that others will always be there.

Factually, everyone will die.

Hypothetically, in 500 years nobody on the planet (if it’s still around) will know you were ever here.

So be kind and useful to yourself while you’ve got time.

That’s all you really have.

Don’t take this as a fear trap.

The end isn’t as romantic as we all make it out to be.

But it’s as true as anything possibly can be.

Everything you’ve had until this point means only as much power as you’ve given it.

The release of constraint in possessions is dangerously freeing.

So here I am at 11:26 pm still drinking.

Okay I’ll be here for dinner of course.

And I’ll show face to those I care about.

I’d rather get drunk and lost in a guitar.

But that’s not what I need.

Not all pleasure is of the flesh.

Not that I’d know either way.

Besides..

Isn’t life just trial and error?

How many times do you want to try again to get it wrong?

How many times can you break yourself?

I heard once that you have to break your heart,
Over and over and over and over.

Until it opens.

So I’d like to think we all get there one day.

For all of our sakes.

JD 8/7/2021

I used to see in color,
now I see a little less,
I used to try for banquet,
These days I try my best

But I’ve come back for the 9th round well rested,
And my left hook is jaw crushing,
I, me and myself are at war once again,
One of us is bound to be bluffing.

Talk down on yourself whenever possible
My life is **** because I deserve it, right?


You must have done something real bad

Its nearly impossible
for you to cry now

i’m a part of a species so beautiful
that we build little homes out of nature
to shield us from nature
and walls that we hide behind
and think about ******* each other
before falling asleep

Call it what you want
just don’t call it a cop-out
everyone is all right sometimes
and you say it’s never easy
you say you want to please me
well when are you coming round my town tonight?

When people get into horrible car accidents, they’re usually killed on impact.
And they tell you that it was instantaneous and that your loved one felt no pain.
They don’t tell you that as they slammed against the steering wheel, their organs exploded and burst within their chests, that the air was choked straight out of their lungs by the belt that was meant to save them, and that they were dead before they even started to bleed.
They don’t tell you what happened to them. They just tell you that they were gone before they ever knew what hit them.
As if they’re protecting you.

I’m great at talking

Not so great at holding it inside

I’m great at walking

Not so great at taking it in stride

I will make room for you to take up space..

To roam.

I took up the bottle to talk to myself
But I don’t like what he’s saying
Tap me out throw in a ringer
I’m losing my grip cause I’m losing my fingers

They’re having a blast downstairs
Locked myself away so I wouldn’t stare
At the bottles and wonder
how much it would take