highway drive

Riding in the passenger’s seat while mom drives. It’s an extremely familiar thing for most children. I’m eighteen and its no different, the radio off and random chatter and updates are what is in the air. Rain falls mercilessly, drop after drop after millionth drop pound the vehicle with all their might. Soon traffic begins to slow to a sub average crawl. We’re not even out of town yet.
Of course.
Up ahead the image of crumpled cars are visible like a toy a forgetful or uncaring child left out in the road one too many times. Car. Car. Car. Finally one last car. What a way to begin the thanksgiving holiday. Hurry kids we have to get to grandmas house tonight! All Ruined. After passing them all you’d think that things would begin to pick up a bit. Nope. Oh yes, the piece de résistance. We see now, a behemoth moving truck flipped over on its side as if it was a hunter’s bounty. All of the contents strewn across the median like a freshly laden snow. Everyone just stares. What can you do? Nothing. It is so beautiful. Such a peaceful scene, no one knows how to react so no one does. We go on our way, slightly inconvenienced but not thinking or worrying about it half an hour later. Maybe not even half a minute later.

balance

one foot after another
the resounding feel of making progress
i try and keep that feeling in my head
i am making progress
the rain falls heavy and merciless
while the wind leaves a desire to burn alive
this feeling is un-shakable
inescapable nothingness
the cold is stuck in my bones
i try and focus on anything
anything besides my shoes taking on water
this is hell
this is life
just try and focus on the things within reach
any farther and you are sure to lose hope
once hope is lost, all is lost
so may i always take small steps
and focus on whats within my grasp
happiness will not elude me
i grip the handle of the front door
as if i could lose it like a fallen comrade in battle
pulling the door open
my prize waits on the other side

416

dark room.
bright computer screen.
last. one. awake.
once more everyone has beaten me to sleep.
this always poses an awkward situation.
i am on the third bunk.
i must scale the giant heap of cheap interlocking dorm furniture.
and hope im not being too much of a noisy jackass.
oh well.

good old days

as i sit in my desk chair,
the ones that come standard in all dorm rooms,
i think.
of my back that hurts due to the chair in question
about the town
about my writing
mainly what it used to be
it is now merely the ramblings of an angry man
it has lost its heart
along with its guts
whatever.
maybe its because ive lost some anger
maybe im just more apathetic
i hope im not more apathetic
but a quote from the polak comes to mind
"i keep writing not because i am so good,
no,
because everyone else is so much worse."
so im not a good writer,
but i can settle for you being an even worse one
thats what comes to mind
while sitting in my standard issue dorm room desk chair

what happened to the old days

its late.
once again
and i am left awake looking out my window
the town just sits there
idly
asleep
like the one who drunkenly passed out
with no idea that i am here
and i am watching
and. oh.
i. am. judging.

thirsty thursday

always end while your at the top
better to do so then wait
holding onto the cards
ending in nostalgic sorrow
no
its always best to end while in first
that is how you cheat happiness.


staring at you
smiling
looking through your hair
like a lion looks at his prey
through the tall grass
in sweltering heat
eye to eye

sunshine

i am feeling aesthetically pleased
it is five oh seven on the dot
in the morning that is
and i am about to prepare for sleep
i look out of my fourth floor window
i see some of the campus
some of the surrounding area
in darkness
but amongst the darkness
there are streetlights
and windows
the headlights of drunk drivers
advertisements
the light from my screen pours out the window
adding to it all
i am just a single star in the night sky
we are all stars in the night sky
it is five fourteen on the dot
in the morning
that is

are we there yet?

this will hurt.
you will bleed.
we are all human
and play the same game
some have been given advantage
others have had a leg lopped off
this.
is.
life.
just a long drawn out trip
a trip to our grave
so stop worrying about getting there
and finishing
think about prolonging it
taking a break once in a while
to stretch your legs
and explore
just for the fun of it

gas pump blues

the light is on once again
warm and reassuring
letting me know that i need to fill Lou Ellen with gas
once again
it must come on almost every day
i hate spending more than eight or so dollars on gasoline
so ill keep up with it
the quick fix method
the seat belt latch is jammed
so i don't wear it
if she were to just up and die in the road
id get her fixed in a heart beat
but when we watch someone slowly go
go to their grave
we feel helpless
the course is plotted
and we are no cartographer
it will end well?
no.
its so obvious we cannot lie
no even to ourselves