tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84233358005942967362024-03-21T20:28:56.068-07:00Filling The Voidforward motionKylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-12112857614791656692011-10-16T23:12:00.000-07:002011-10-16T23:19:51.822-07:00And it was You<div style="text-align: center;">I saw you</div><div style="text-align: center;">(there, across the way)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Through acrid fumes of sweat</div><div style="text-align: center;">and smoke.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Through all the bodies</div><div style="text-align: center;">huddled up in conversation,</div><div style="text-align: center;">saving face.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I saw you there,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and it was <i>You...</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">I saw you notice</div><div style="text-align: center;">my face</div><div style="text-align: center;">too.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I held your attention</div><div style="text-align: center;">undivided for a time.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And you held mine</div><div style="text-align: center;">(a moment)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Before distraction carried us,</div><div style="text-align: center;">individually,</div><div style="text-align: center;">away into the night.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Still, i dwelled in that</div><div style="text-align: center;">brightness...</div><div style="text-align: center;">That silent promise.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I would see you again.</div>Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-70780993390549774392011-10-05T01:52:00.000-07:002011-10-16T23:12:41.079-07:00it's been a weekthe sun comes up,<div>i think about you.</div><div>the coffee cup,</div><div>i think about you.</div><div>i want you so,</div><div>it's like i'm losing my mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>the morning ends,</div><div>i think about you.</div><div>i talk to friends,</div><div>i think about you.</div><div>and do they know?</div><div>it's like i'm losing my mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>all afternoon,</div><div>doing every little chore,</div><div>the thought of you stays bright.</div><div>sometimes i stand</div><div>in the middle of the floor,</div><div>not going left,</div><div>not going right.</div><div><br /></div><div>i dim the lights</div><div>and think about you.</div><div>spend sleepless nights</div><div>to think about you.</div><div>you said you loved me,</div><div>or where you just being kind?</div><div>or am i losing my mind?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(-Stephen Sondheim)</div><div><br /></div><div>(it's been a week. i want to give you time and space.... but it feels unnatural not talking to you. </div><div>it feels WRONG to not have you in my day-to-day...</div><div>And it's not just that i miss you.</div><div>i don't like living with-out you</div><div><br /></div><div>(i'm so tired.</div><div>tired of thinking of you</div><div>every single day.</div><div>but to stop</div><div>i feel it would depreciate</div><div>my quality of life.</div><div><br /></div><div>but who am i?</div><div>to make a judgement</div><div>in my current state?</div><div>so wrapped up</div><div>in all that i'd thought we'd made.</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought we'd made so much</div><div>in so little time.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was ready to try</div><div>to live a more than ordinary life.</div><div>to keep you by my side...</div><div>to salvage you and i.</div><div><br /></div><div>but who am I</div><div>without you?</div><div>I can't try</div><div>without you.....))</div><div><br /></div><div>it's been a week.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-24478882518929264562010-08-02T02:39:00.001-07:002010-08-02T02:45:08.292-07:00i missi miss him.<div>the way he made me feel</div><div>invincible.</div><div>the way i felt that anything was</div><div>possible...</div><div><br /></div><div>i love her.</div><div>i'm committed.</div><div>i can't back out now.</div><div><br /></div><div>but</div><div><br /></div><div>i just want to be on that stage</div><div>bearing my soul...</div><div>because it's the only time i feel LEGITIMATE.</div><div>the only time i feel worth it to anybody.</div><div><br /></div><div>especially myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>but i don't know when i'll be OKAY enough to pursue that...</div><div><br /></div><div>it's time for bed.</div><div>and it hurts...</div><div><br /></div><div>so</div><div>much.</div><div><br /></div><div>i'm sorry.....</div>Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-57617595407436173182009-08-19T19:51:00.000-07:002009-08-19T19:57:52.321-07:00sifting.shifting.--moving.shaking.17 days.<br />in s e v e n t e e n days, i won't be here.<br />the west coast awaits my arrival<br />in 17 days.<br /><br />i cannot wait to uproot again... it's such a stubborn, frustrating, liberating experience--leaving behind the useless shit that takes up most of the space in my half-full-glass life.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-16887180059785963832009-03-07T23:59:00.000-08:002009-03-08T00:26:50.659-08:00The things i cannot change...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynQle7e3LfPWyk1yG4WJ8qm_OlE5TMEgnQWH74AoY_CYL_OujMRw8cx9QxSA49OHTGHA6Wyf8zqj9tiRNHTBtreXtqWNmQQ-QNMXJGoSsGcUuYG-PuqceGDl1WL9uFtGtkBpzQCzzLwJg/s1600-h/hotty.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynQle7e3LfPWyk1yG4WJ8qm_OlE5TMEgnQWH74AoY_CYL_OujMRw8cx9QxSA49OHTGHA6Wyf8zqj9tiRNHTBtreXtqWNmQQ-QNMXJGoSsGcUuYG-PuqceGDl1WL9uFtGtkBpzQCzzLwJg/s400/hotty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310730326682792354" border="0" /></a><br />This just in: my best friend is a sexy beast!<br />Just LOOK at her!<br /><br /><br />In other news, I've been attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings for the past few days. Admittedly, it is somewhat uncomfortable. But it gets easier every time. And the experience is more beneficial than I thought it would be. Sure, I'm trapped in a basement(/giant ashtray) with 20 people all old enough to be my parents. Many of them old enough to be my grandparents. But seeing them all here, and knowing what horrors alcohol has caused in some of their lives... it's a very sobering experience (no pun intended). Hearing their stories has lead me to look more closely at my own experience. And after assessing my behavior with alcohol through the past three years, I was taken aback. Realizing how much and how often I'd been drinking (and knowing that, if I'd had my way, it would have been more, more frequently), and recognizing the lengths I've gone to in obtaining liquor, I consciously thought what I've always joked about: I'm an alcoholic. Thinking back on all of the nights at the fruitport house, sitting alone downstairs with a season of The Office (scrubs, weeds, planet earth (thanks to megan (sorry megan))) and a bottle of captain (jack, castillo, heavenhill, popov, smirnoff) Val and Keith asleep upstairs hours ago, but I wouldn't sleep until the bottle was gone....<br /><br />Now, when I sit around those tables, and I speak the words "My name is Kyle, and I am an alcoholic"<br />I'm not just playing along.<br /><br />Alcohol has contributed to every major dilema of the past year: Arrested in Yosemite shortly before being fired, being fired from red robin because i called in--drunk--at 11:30 am, arrested for drunk driving, arrested for stealing booze--even though i honestly didn't intend to drink it.<br /><br />I haven't been drinking since the driving arrest. I HAVE had a few drinks on a few occasions since then. I HAVE been drunk since then. But I've been doing well overall (and in comparison to a couple of months ago).<br /><br />That doesn't mean i haven't wanted a drink. I HAVE wanted to go out and finaggle myself some rum. But i haven't.<br />What stopping me isn't my iron will. It's fear of falling further in this hole i've started digging for myself.<br /><br />....Ugh. i need to stop at some point. This is getting rambly, and my punctuation is becoming inconsistent. 4:24am<br /><br /><br /><br />At least my best friend is still gorgeous.<br />(ha... sorry to have your pretty picture forever associated with the contents of this blog)Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-85175135415852899262009-02-23T13:49:00.000-08:002009-02-23T14:17:03.312-08:00holding on to little victories<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0aa0wL5jodCTBZNP36MkZEn8qUV9wyvis4SkPmLU6kcXgJdL-XJeeCLNJw5-nRfcybkdo3ivoQdB-iX8Danh0m4iBGQ9jwpmUfdUsiFzGxBOxSY2Df_ou4dH-QiMCsgY2-xxfvos13bt/s1600-h/look5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 341px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0aa0wL5jodCTBZNP36MkZEn8qUV9wyvis4SkPmLU6kcXgJdL-XJeeCLNJw5-nRfcybkdo3ivoQdB-iX8Danh0m4iBGQ9jwpmUfdUsiFzGxBOxSY2Df_ou4dH-QiMCsgY2-xxfvos13bt/s400/look5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306120005279287314" border="0" /></a><br />i got into lookbook.nu !<br />it really excites me.<br />now, i can show people things like this ^^^^^^^^^<br />and see what they think.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-58904196612464654212009-02-21T11:30:00.000-08:002009-02-21T11:44:33.231-08:00A Walking CatastropheMuch has happened in past four or so months.<br />Synopsis:<br />Fired from Red Robin in September.<br />Was a faun for Halloween.<br />Moved in with Val and Keith in early November.<br />-Fixed the place up nice.<br />-Drank a lot of beer.<br />-Drank a lot, generally.<br />Moved back home in january when Val and Keith went back to California.<br />Got arrested for drunk driving january 18th.<br />-Sentencing on March 2nd. going to cost a couple of thousand dollars.<br />-"Driver Responsibility Fee" of $1000 due in 20 days.<br />Started seeing a counselor at Hackley Life Counseling--for potential substance abuse.<br />Got a job serving at Finley's.<br />Megan moved to San Diego.<br />I got arrested for retail fraud on February 12th at Meijer.<br />-Booked downtown and released on a PR bond.<br />-Arraignment February 24th.<br />-Mom doesn't know yet.<br />Mom's job was terminated two days ago.<br /><br /><br />Life is falling apart.<br />I am a wreck.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-64450685537493580252008-10-08T01:45:00.000-07:002008-10-08T22:31:29.391-07:00laugh until my head comes off...i look through the window.<br />i see them all<br />those strangers.<br />what right do they have<br />to be here, when i am not allowed<br />even to step foot<br />in the door?<br /><br />they ask me questions<br />through the panes.<br />the panes and panes that line it-<br />the coffee shop;<br />the diner in my mind.<br />they ask me over and over again<br /><br />"where are you going?<br />"what are you up to?<br />"who do you think YOU are?"<br /><br />none of them care.<br />none want conversation.<br />the curiosity stems from elsewhere.<br />from something sad.<br />it drips down in little lines.<br />down the tempered glass.<br />the windshield in my mind.<br /><br />i speed through the drizzle.<br />careening across the pavement<br />down the highway of my life.<br />down the winding mountain roads.<br />through my sunglasses,<br />i see little in the twilight,<br />the sadness of my circumstance.<br /><br />i wear my ambivalence.<br />a mask above my rumpled collar.<br />i catch him in the rear-view.<br />his eyes beg an answer,<br />"who are you?"<br /><br />i am lost.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-12883695999882767902008-09-18T21:59:00.000-07:002008-09-18T22:23:37.834-07:00yesterday: the night before tomorrowi'm moving to chicago during the thaw of the coming year--one way or another.<br />i want to get back into performing. i'm even taking a dance class tomorrow night.<br />i'm finally selling my jewelry. kymi is letting me set up whatever i want at her place. it's exciting.<br />i want a boy to snuggle with. <br />i feel like i'm in a chrysalis. like i'm ready for a big transformation.<br />i wonder if i'm transforming into "the man i'm going to be" this time.<br />or maybe it's just another stage of my life cycle.<br />i've been thinking a lot lately about the concept that every moment that ever has, and that ever will come to pass, exists in the present. i've been treasuring the future that has yet to be realized. part of me wants to believe in this concept. part of me is sure it's absurd, but appreciates the way it makes my dreams seem attainable.<br /><br />anyway, i can't shake the feeling that i'm trying to prove something. to someone? to myself? i don't know. whoever it is, i hope i prove my point. i have everything i need within myself. but i doubt my ability to use it. <br /><br />it makes me feel desperate. <br />i'm sure my unemployment isn't helping in that regard.<br />but there's something else. a voice i hear sometimes that tells me i can do anything.<br />it makes me want to move to new york.<br />to buy a massive canvas and go crazy.<br />to try my hand at modeling.<br />to give cute guys my number. and expect them to call.<br /><br />theres an unfounded, ridiculous confidence in there somewhere. <br />thank god reality suppresses the cocky bastard in the back of my skull.<br />vanity is unattractive.<br />(just keep telling yourself that)<br /><br />i know that mom is trying to get me to grasp the minimum responsibility of living in the real world. but it's going to be damn tough saving money to move out if i have to keep paying her rent.<br /><br />i feel like it would be taking advantage of her... for a good cause? <br /><br />i'm too tired to think now.<br />thank god. i need sleep.<br /><br />i'm pumped for swing dancing tonight.<br />and then the last hoorah at mo's house.<br /><br />("last"...? yeah right)Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-9778008440840929772008-05-19T18:13:00.001-07:002008-12-10T18:33:27.093-08:00SSDD... No Thanks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMnIg-OyBmXnKNx8pnEpEtDCYxEUiFON4c9ecw-2M4Ulh2sP-JRjTfLyUVoYxgtlaJmmgJSbRpXCHxsyx_94z5ofnwUAVs7FM8i3-bQFrP7tJSmgqldNH2lyJngYSKKiMYddrIoh6-KiV/s1600-h/dreams.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202262535142492658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMnIg-OyBmXnKNx8pnEpEtDCYxEUiFON4c9ecw-2M4Ulh2sP-JRjTfLyUVoYxgtlaJmmgJSbRpXCHxsyx_94z5ofnwUAVs7FM8i3-bQFrP7tJSmgqldNH2lyJngYSKKiMYddrIoh6-KiV/s400/dreams.png" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">That's it, in a nutshell.</div><div align="center">That's basically how I'm feeling in this chapter of my life.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">As I return to a job--or two--I don't see how I could</div><div align="center">fully realize this way of thinking; of living.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">But I'm working on it. </div>Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-90403995979061709622008-05-18T22:39:00.000-07:002008-05-18T22:41:24.005-07:00Michigan Summer...Here I come.<br />So, I fucked up out in California... and I'm back home now.<br /><br />I'm kinda sad... not sad really, but a little dissapointed in myself I suppose.<br /><br />I really wanted to make it out there. I planned to come back to visit, but honestly i never wanted to LIVE here again. So I'm a little sour for that reason.<br /><br />But, there are positives:<br />-Megan.<br />-I get to spend time with my family. See how my brother is growing up; be an active part of it.<br />-I return feeling refreshed, and i don't intend to let that stagnant feeling set back in.<br />-I can make a hell-of-a-lot more money here than I could in Yosemite.<br />-There are opportunities to PERFORM here, albeit kinda lame. I actually have options.<br />-The lake is here, and It's sweet.<br />-Michigan summers are actually pretty awesome.<br />-Megan.<br /><br />So, yeah.<br />I'm here.<br />And I'll likely be here for a while--regretably, but not, at the same time.<br /><br />I'm happy.:)Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-62918237683677203272008-05-10T23:05:00.000-07:002008-05-10T23:13:10.965-07:00What Was He Thinking???Camp4 is full this weekend, and I'll be arrested on-the-spot if I'm seen in housing areas.<br /><br />So I get the parking lot.<br /><br /><br />Cake is too attatched, and I'm trying subtlely to push him away... but he's crazy, and more than likely won't catch on until I spell it out for him (perhaps literally).<br /><br />ok... time to ramble like old times in lj (when i hit the [enter] key whenever it seemed even remotely acceptable... and sometimes for no damn reason)<br /><br /><br />what am i doing?<br />this life...<br />he's cute, and nice,<br />and great for cuddling.<br />he's more naive than his years should allow.<br />call it culture-shock.<br />maybe it really is so different in thailand.<br />it's going to hurt him a lot. :(<br /><br />well.<br />i have to go now i suppose<br /><br />rachel is ready to go. and i'm sleeping in her car tonight.<br /><br /><3<3<3Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-7926667504880206022008-04-29T18:45:00.000-07:002008-04-29T19:06:41.355-07:00There's a Moth at the WindowI honestly feel like I am letting a lot of people down, and that I'm living somewhat selfishly at the moment.<br /><br />And it makes me second-guess myself and what I'm doing. But I can't do that too often, or I won't succeed in any endeavor my heart may lead me on.<br /><br />See, I'm developing a tendancy to jump at the fleeting, shiny things that life drops in my path--if only to marvel at and enjoy them for a short while. And often times I am left in a strange place when that transient twinkling has passed.<br /><br />That is where I sit now. And I know I must find my way back on the path that I've strayed from, but I dare not doubt myself and my heart. If I did, I would never see these stars, and my journey wouldnt be so rich in beauty.<br /><br />I will not regret, and I will not lose my optimism.<br />I will accept any advice my loved ones offer with full consideration, though I cannot promise any adherance.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Oh. Right.<br />I'm jobless and homless now. But I still feel at home here.<br />Pet, Waen, and my new Thai friends are taking good care of me. And I am so glad I've become part of their little group.<br /><br />I hiked to the top of upper Yosemite falls with Pet yesterday, and it was incredible.<br />We hardly spoke the whole time.<br />We didn't have to.<br />We could both hear and see the power and the beauty surrounding us. No words are required to share such an experience.<br /><br /><br />I realized a lot last night... and it was good for me.<br /><br />Megan: I listened to them: they are SWEET.<br /><3Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-67461699371440673142008-04-22T17:04:00.000-07:002008-04-22T17:23:48.620-07:00Or Am I Tripping?Here i sit, filling the screen with nothing particularly beautiful or eloquent--i haven't the time for that just now. I haven't even the time to capitalize each individual "i" or to use commas as precisely as i'd like to. I'm on a schedule, you see.<br /><br />No work today, but i am to meet "Papaya" and friends at six for dinner. After which, he and i will meet up with some of my more cultured friends for a film festival. No doubt after that i'll find myself sitting on a bed eating rice with something spicy as my foreign friends spit nonsense-words at one another. And me, all the while, with a quizzical expresson accross my american face. <br /><br />My job is up in the air.<br />my fate with Delaware North Companies is to be decided on friday, i believe.<br /><br />I was arrested last week for sleeping drunk in the meadow.<br />----i have a criminal record?<br />Yes.<br /><br />I'll be bumming around for a while if i get fired. My court date isn't until the 3rd of june anyhow. but im not worried for whatever reason.<br /><br />My hands are raw from the unforgiving rock that calls me back again and again. <br /><br />I guess i'm dating a thai boy, and im beginning to like him.<br /><br />I don't know where i'll be living in 4 months.<br />And i am unafraid.<br />I am exhilarated.<br />i am Free.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I miss my friend, my family.<br />i still miss a lot of people and things.<br />but i am alive.<br />and it is a beautiful life.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-48144657002042510282008-03-30T21:18:00.000-07:002008-03-30T21:54:50.512-07:00MissingWhy is the Curry community center still closed for "maintainence issues"? I never see anybody in there working on anything. Yet, it's been shut down and locked up for over a month now--depriving me of my convenient internet access.<br /><br />So I sit here now, in the "great room" of the historically swank Ahwahnee hotel. Here amidst the underdressed and overdressed (there is no grey area) vacationers who pay the big bucks to stay in this odd-smelling establishment, I don't feel out-of-place. Oddly enough, I sense how out-of-place they all feel in this transient den of old-world luxury. To me, it's like sitting in the livingroom of a friendly neighbor's house... I don't know.<br /><br />I've been doing more and more things with various new people lately. Climbing and bouldering mostly. We sit on the rocks and watch the tourists below. Millions of people flock here to get a taste of the beauty or to tackle the mountain. It's amazing that all of these adventurous opportunities are in my backyard.<br /><br />I feel very much at home here after a couple of months. And I am so happy... but not entirely <em>content.</em><br /><br />While I have so much going on in what Mom calls my "new life", I can't ignore the things I don't have anymore.<br /><br />I don't have anywhere to gather with passionate people and just SING the hell out of a great piece of music under the direction of such an incredible man(father, husband). Or a someone to teach me dance as only Molly can, with little noises and a casual silliness that somehow commands my attention and my respect. In fact, there are virtually no outlets for organized performance in the entire park. And it makes me sad. Makes me feel uncomfortable, almost, that living here means abbandoning something so important to me. <br /><br />And there are certain other people that used to make life <em>more.</em> I am Here, and my best friend in the world is There. I miss her every day. And i miss a handfull of people that I was never particularly close to. Friends, of course. But I didn't realize how close I truely did feel to these people until I moved so far away. It's odd, I think.<br /><br />Where is my pile of junk and string and beads? Where is my room full of tinkering and creativity? It's in Michigan because I couldn't fit it all in a suitcase. I feel kind of lame without my collection of knick-nacks from Grandma Marian's garage--my bits of string and boxes of buttons--my countless scraps of various art supplies pilfered from V's room...<br /><br />When I boarded a plane with only three bags (two increasingly smaller than the first) it didn't occur to me that their contents would, in essence, be all that I'd have left of my "old life".<br /><br />And I don't consider it my "old life' really. I'm just so distanced from it, that those things I left seem to only exist in the past. Not the people of course. I know they are still waking up and breathing and going about their business. I also know that all of my clutter is packed away in a few boxes. <br /><br />It's unfortunate. <br /><br />But I know that Muskegon, Michigan is not where I'm supposed to be right now.<br />Knowing this makes missing all of it bareable.<br />Mostly.<br /><br />And I know I'll have some of it back someday. And I know all friendships will not die. And I am positive beyond a doubt that I have not stopped singing. <br /><br />I feel a silly ramble coming on, full of repetition and talking myself in circles...<br />I'll save it for later.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(lovelovelove)Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-20330174703402430712008-02-15T23:36:00.000-08:002008-02-15T23:57:56.828-08:00What am I supposed to do?I do not feel guilty. Not for anything. <br />I feel pitty. I feel sympathy. I feel sorry for him.<br />But I feel no guilt for leaving him, for leaving home.<br /><br />I weighed the decision and analyzed the situation objectively.<br />I made a choice with my best interest in mind.<br />I followed my heart, and it didn't find me with him.<br /><br />Maybe this makes me a cold, insensitive bastard.<br />If that's the case, then I suppose I have nothing to say for myself.<br />But regardless, I do not regret it, and I stand by my choice.<br /><br />I will be happy, whether he is or not. There was a time when that would have been impossible.<br /><br />But he doesn't affect me anymore.<br />This is just becoming drama. And I don't want it.<br /><br /><br />But I <em>do </em>miss having someone, if only to hold hands with. And I wish I could find somebody out here.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-18745951500086764652008-02-03T23:48:00.000-08:002008-02-04T00:16:38.508-08:00The snow is a crunchy-squeeky under foot.<br />My best friend makes things of beauty.<br />Pretty stars are hidden by the veil of cloud,<br />but I know that they still see me.<br /><br />Today I splurged on frivolous rations just to make it seem like home.<br />My little pantry proudly fills the shelf that sits awkwardly above the refrigerator.<br />Plastic bowls and mugs and plates are stacked in bold green pairs, like in some magazine for the thrifty home-maker.<br />I'll paint the walls and hang my coat and spread a rug out on the floor.<br />I wont come close, but still it's nice to know I'm not alone.<br /><br /><br />The day has exhausted itself.<br />I think I'll go to bed now.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-3025418216546594622008-02-02T18:22:00.000-08:002008-02-02T18:46:10.372-08:00ThirstyWatching a bluegrass festival on California public broadcast television--surrounded on all sides by more artificial wood panneling than any one man was <em>ever</em> meant to tollerate--I wonder what my conscience is. I wonder how a mind can be conflicted. And the little pain in the back of my throat feels like a misplaced patch of desert. Where did the water go?...<br /><br /><br />And now my thoughts all return to stardust (what an amazing young lady she is).<br /><br /><br />I think I like bluegrass music, in moderation. The harmonies are too redundant.<br />And life really is too short for redundant harmonies.<br />(Bring on the banjo)Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-44370808176470513042008-01-29T14:35:00.000-08:002008-01-29T14:59:01.609-08:00AcheThese days, it seems like my every muscle aches. But it's the best kind of ache--unless you're really into pregnancy, birth, afterbirth... but that's not so great, from what i hear--it is the ache of progress. The pain, when you move even a little bit, that tells you you're getting somewhere. I'm getting somewhere. Even if i don't have a job; even if i am a squatter, i am doing something and getting results. It's a beautiful thing.<br /><br />It's a beautiful day, despite the cold, the snow, the clouds. A perfect haze shrouds the peaks and makes me feel a little more terrestrial. And every twig on every branch of every tree is highlighted by a dusting of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">crystaline</span> white. But still, there is the cold.<br /><br />I still feel cold. Inside, i do. And i cannot help wondering, too, if he will ever stop loving me. But i am over it, at the same time. It tears me up inside, but not enough to really hurt. What purpose does that serve? Why hurt at all if it isn't enough to prompt a change, a correction, a course of healing? Maybe it isn't even hurt--just an ache that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">i've</span> already learned to live with. It's just a part of me now, nothing to be done about it. He worries me, all the same. His dwelling, his passive aggressive nature when i talk to him--ever since i told him i didn't want to try. <br /><br />Love is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">dangerous</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">exercises</span>, often resulting in a different kind of ache.<br /><br />I suppose now, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">i'll</span> go to my little room. I'll take off these insulating clothes--burning incense so thick that it stings my eyes. And i will bathe in the fragrant smog. <br />I will eat my fill of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">triscuts</span> and left-over pizza.<br />And tomorrow, i will get on some machine and sweat it all off.<br />And i will ache. <br /><br />Oh, how i will ache.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-78951524325603398642008-01-22T17:29:00.000-08:002008-01-22T17:37:19.373-08:00PositiveToday i was reminded of the kindness and bravery of complete strangers. I peed in a cup for the man at the clinic. I saw a bobcat prowling around the deli at the bus stop. I enjoyed lunch with a good friend near a waterfall.<br /><br />Today was a beautiful day.<br />I am sure that I want to be here.Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-11930310940148307832008-01-19T00:46:00.000-08:002008-01-19T01:00:32.968-08:00HomeI feel colder than the room temperature... physically, and otherwise. I cannot stop shivvering.<br />It's making me sick to my stomach.<br />This hurts.<br /><br />...But it hurts Her more, I think;<br />More than I could possibly know.<br /><br />And I know I've hurt Him too... after all of that.<br /><br />The fact is: I'll miss Her more than Him.<br /><br /><br /><br />(I feel colder)Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423335800594296736.post-78327183206844471642008-01-18T21:46:00.000-08:002008-01-18T21:54:19.870-08:00Honest<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is the start of something new.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is a good decision.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is going to work out.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">This is not the end.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...but still...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is me: absolutely terrified.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Kylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09803606132520308350noreply@blogger.com0