Comfort on the Greyhound

the mind weaves in and out of conscious thought
from bus stop to love lost
the sun cracks the horizon
soon swallowed by the mornings low clouds
tears dry looking at the new day
as i hand over the smokes to a child
hope springs from a small seed
a vine on the front steps
choking plants covering their sunlight
i'll pray the best is yet to come
comfort on the greyhound
i'll drink up the stars tonight
will i accept what i've done
it's the stories i want to tell
and the stories i've never heard
it's the love i couldn't give
and the strength to be alone...

that hurts the most.

i've walked down so many wrong roads and i question the one i walk now.

Letters from Rome.

I don’t know where to start but within this rough outline I think what I need to do and where I am going will become more and more clear. This is a short paper into my brain, maybe it’s just for me and no one else in the world will ever give a shit, but I was told by a good friend that it might be a good idea to organize your feelings, your past, your mind as it is now, to sort out all the pain, sort out the want, and need that has been happening to me recently. Although the bigger problem is probably the fact that the pain now is just augmented because of confusion on how I got here. All of this boils down to a matter of love, a matter that no mind can comprehend, this is about how I went crazy trying to figure it out and how I ended up hurting and pushing away the person I wanted to give myself to, at least that’s how I felt at the time.

The day started well...

The morning felt like it was going so well, then I guess my mind started traveling down the path of regret of loss. I beat myself up so much, this is the pain I knew I would feel if I were to lose Anna. Some how I must have known that she was going to leave me that night, or maybe I pushed her away. It wasn’t what I was trying to do at all, I was just so afraid, so afraid to fail. I can do so much but I have always been afraid to fail, maybe that’s why I can’t finish any of my projects. Getting my album done will probably be a good testament to getting things done. I’ve been thinking a lot, about how I don’t think I had a fair chance, but love isn’t fair, it doesn’t play by any rules because you’re giving yourself away to someone who has their own agenda and no matter how hard you try to explain yourself and what you’re feeling and how you are trying to change, it will never be enough, never, never, never. I always told her that this was what I was most afraid of, letting people down, letting myself down, failing. I start to think about what I could have done wrong and how I could have changed. She tells me it’s all about her but it’s not at all. It can never be all about one person. She knows I tried to love her, she knows I gave it my best shot, but she never got to hear all of it, she told me it was about her. And if it was all about her I never got to hear any of it. I was in love, I tore myself at the seams. I dug into my soul and found nothing, there was no way to be happy in the search for a answer, an answer to a topic that can never be answered. So I told her how I would try to accept her any way she was, but it was so much more about me and my tyrannical ways. I need to be alone, I need to accept how I got here, thinking about the past will only lead to deep sorrow. Never in my life have I felt I found something so beautiful it was that beauty that lead me to question it was that beauty that lead to my insanity. We all feel we can understand things but that fact is nothing is permanent but we long so much for something to be, something that will make us whole, something that will end the weary path. It seems whenever I write this stuff down I feel a bit better. It's one of those things that keep coming up, like a cut on your foot you can't stop picking. (I am not trying to bite fight club here.... okay maybe I am.)

Learn to be alone. Learn from all the loss. Learn from shattered hope. Learn from the shattered feelings. Learn that love has nothing to do with any of these things because it is perfect and no one can ever be perfect.