Unintentional Stereotypes...

My interests have sent me along many paths... and as i've matured i've begun to define myself as a person. It's interesting though to see how these inter clash, and how I may look to other people...
walking around my house the other day, i realized that if somebody came bursting in on me right then and pushed PAUSE on my life movie, i would fit perfectly into the hippie stereotype.

for example:

I was telling my brother that I "really dig your new carpet, im amazed at how soft it is! pretty groovy man"
SLANG !


While wearing a crazy random (albeit modern) coloured shirt.


and faded, ripped, torn jeans which have seen to many summers


along with equally worn and torn chucks


over my shoulder was a 1979 Pentex SLR 35mm camera,


which had a retro strap with great designs on it!


In my back pocket was a battered copy of Jack Kerouac's - On The Road (read it, you'll understand why it fits)



all the while listening to Elton John's Yellow Brick Road Album on vinyl in my room!


other than my new haircut (which cut about 4 inches off) i fit the stereotypical description of a hippie.

It wasn't intentional, I just pieced myself together that day with things I liked, things that defined me.

Amazing what the world shows us isn't it?

Racing Along

I want to follow the cotton candy sunset. Soaking in pink and blue. Knowing this is as good as it gets. Racing the power lines. A mix tape created by you, drinking boxed wine, wearing sharpie tattoos. Knowing life will be fine, going whatever speed we choose. Who cares about all the rest, so long as we chase this cotton candy sunset. And as the light falls and darkness surrounds us, we won't be scared. The brightness of the dashboard reflects the twinkle in our eyes. Our happiness is no disguise. Living the future the way it is supposed to be. Miles zoom underneath as we run into the night. Following this never ending road straight to the horizon. Reminiscent of an old western. Straight and steady, fading from sight. We'll follow the evervescent sunset into the next light.

(The squeel of the brakes, collection of empty bottles, and stains in our clothes just add character. Our eyes are not worn out and you won't believe me when I saw we are ready for the next adventure. But we are. These battered images are trails straight to our lives. Battle hardened and tired of average life. Our hearts are in plain view, it is nothing new. Trust me, you can be happy too. I'll teach you.)



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Wildly Away

When I slam onto this pedal and the road spills out in front. Don't grab on for dear life. Don't let your head lead you into strife. Just hold my hand, let the mix tape soothe your soul, and let's spend life speeding away. We'll spin in and out of chaos, forever getting lost. Living a thousand fantasies combined. Finally smiling in this new life of crime. You will never understand what we left behind. Years of theft and hate and construction zones. Stealing our happiness away is the crime of their lives. We couldn't live and stay alive. To escape is the only way to survive. When I take to the streets and pull you behind. Follow me like you've gone blind. We'll leave the miles and miles and miles behind. That tape will lead us into the next phase of our lives. Speeding away into a fate full of crime. I only hope this fantasy is not only mine.

Smiling Dreams

We danced in clear puddles that reflected our matching yellow boots perfectly. Water splashed and fell from the skyy. Soaked in all directions, we had no choice but to laugh as we fell into each other. Drip by drip it streamed from our hair, our clothes, our smiles. We walked hand in hand pass the streams of umbrellas and unhappy faces. Jealous of our wet and careless joy the crowd of dry, gray faces parted as we passed through. Your eyes reflecting mine. The small rain shower had become divine.

Look Closer.

I view the world in rows and rows of frames. Each crack shows a tiny scene coiled in on itself. Strung together like beads on a necklace they create a wondrous view. Overall the picture is perfect. From a ways off everything is grand. But step closer and open your eyes. You see the individual brush strokes, jagged and unmatched. You see the individual tears, trying to be cloaked. You see the wealth of happiness, crushed and broken.

The lack of altruism feeds our hurried footsteps. We never realize we're in such a mess. Plastic smiles are good for a glance as we lead our hurried lives in our own trance. and I really wish that someday someone will just rest their aching minds and fucking STOP. Take a breath and look the world in its eyes. Look at the once grand light, now fading, the brilliant sparkle, now dim.

We are all broken. Each and every one of us. In ways only we can know. The holes in our lives are to large. Damaged goods more numerous than the stars. But look at us. Our happy, perfect world. Still turning. Still living.

And that's the point isn't it? Frost says life goes on. It does, it will. Our fate is sealed. So let us not be morose. Fill these holes and fix your rips. Come to grips with reality. Look closer at each frame. Uncoil the mystry and open your eyes to the problems facing us. And make them better. Sitting idly in idealistic ignorance only dooms you to a false fate. Dig deep and make our tiny cracks whole once more.

It is impossible to be irreparably broken. You just have to let hope soak in. I'll help. I promise. You have to let me. In the end we will all be happy.