We’re here and now, but will we ever be again
‘Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away again

It’s true. The beauty fades. But not the fucking memories. Those are still as shiny as ever. Fuck, let’s face it. They’re blindingly bright. We try to stuff them away. Hide them, pretend they aren’t there. We put them in little black boxes in the back of our mind. We throw away the fucking key. But just try, just try to close your eyes for one fucking second. Do you know what those little bastards do? They flood your whole fucking head as if they were there the whole time. The good ones and the bad ones. All there, in our dreams in our thoughts, just parading about. They almost mock us.

I remember. Sweet fucking lord do I remember. But what are we told to do as adults? Put those away. Those silly dreams, those hopes. Those are for little kids. Those times are behind you. You can’t have them anymore. Adults aren’t supposed to play with those things. Those dreams. Those happy times. The times when nothing else in the world mattered. When we didn’t have a care in the world. When it was clear who you loved and who loved you. And you could be with them all time. Doing whatever the fuck you wanted to. But more than that, whatever you were doing was always exactly what you wanted to do, because they were there. And when they were there that was all that mattered. Everything else was incidental, immaterial, just a fortuitous happenstance.

But as I said before, beauty fades. Sometimes that person fades, sometimes they disappear all together. And sometimes, just fucking sometimes, that person is ripped from your life and taken away. And day after day you wait for the cruel fucking joke to end. But it doesn’t fucking end. And every day you continue to wake up  with the gaping fucking hole in your heart and no matter what the fuck you fill it with it never gets any fucking smaller. And those memories. they never get any dimmer. If anything they get brighter, like a super nova. The memories just keep exploding into your mind. It’s been 11 fucking years and they still sit there, taunting me. But like a super nova if I reach out to grab them all they do is burn. Every time I think I can reach out and touch them the just get hotter and hotter and I shirk away, clutching my singed hand.

But then it gets worse. You know what happens to a super nova. It explodes and then collapses again. Those fucking memories. They explode and then they collapse again. And they’re denser than anything in the universe. They turn into a black hole. A thing so heavy and so fucking dense that nothing can escape its pull. Not even light, not even happiness. That black hole of memories that just sits in that giant spot in your heart. And it’s all you can do to not sink into them and be lost forever to them. They just pull at you constantly. Always fucking pulling. You start to resent them, before the inevitable. The event horizon, you begin to cross it, and you become lost forever to the memories.

I remember. I remember every movie, every meal, every ray of sun, every grain of sand on every beach we sat upon. I remember every wave we caught, every wipe out, every board we ever broke. I remember every dive we ever sauntered into, every beer we ever drank, every shot we ever swallowed, even the shots we lit on fire. I remember every step we took, every mile we ran, every finishing tape we broke. I remember every boulevard we cruised, every woman we tried to pick up. Every one that turned us down, every one that said yes. I remember every 3 am breakfast at Denny’s, after every club we ever went to. I remember the High Roller (inside joke, I’ll explain it someday). I remember. I remember every second, every moment where we lit up each other’s solar systems. Like two suns colliding. You were beautiful. You were the brightest thing in my life. You were a god damn super nova and you were so fucking beautiful. You weren’t just my world, you were my star. God dammit, and now you’re gone and all I fucking have is your fucking black hole of memories.

And the tears. I have the tears, soaking into my shirt, being sopped up by another fucking box of tissues. This is all I really have.

It’s too far away for me to hold
It’s too far away…
Guess I’ll let it go

The Pretender

Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend…

Don’t we all pretend in one way or another? We pretend we like each other. We update each other through statuses, posts, blogs. We pretend that these things are important. We pretend that other people care about them just to make ourselves feel better. We plus, we like, we share, we favorite, we re-tweet, we up vote. All just to pretend that we give a damn, or so that we can pretend others give a damn about us. It’s tiring, some days I’m just not sure I want to do it anymore. I mean I will, if only because writing is one of my outlets and I need it like Sonny needs Cher. But fuck all if I’m going to pretend more than I have to anymore. I’m going to write my heart. I’m going to say what’s on my mind, I’m going to do what the fuck I want and I’m going to fucking enjoy myself. What the fuck is the point of being an adult if you can’t do what the fuck you want to?

Keep you in the dark
And so it all began

Send in your skeletons
Sing as their bones go marching in… again
The need you buried deep…

Like the need to write, the need to be myself. The best piece of advice I’ve ever gotten I’ve failed miserably to apply as I should have. I was on the verge of going to college. You can imagine a snot nosed brat all of 17 riding high on a full scholarship to a school that was over 3,000 miles away. I was  the shit, I knew I was the shit, and what’s worse was that I didn’t hesitate to make sure that everybody else knew I was the fucking shit. So about a month before I left a friend of the family gave me the once over and offered up their advice for going to college. She said, “Be yourself. College is one of the last times that you will get to be introduced to a brand new group of people who don’t know you, have never heard of you, and have no expectations of you. Right now everybody has an idea or notion of who you are and how you should act. Sometimes you act a certain way just to please these people. With college you don’t have to do that. You can be yourself and nobody will tell you that they expected you to be a different person. All they will know is what you present and then they will have to either accept you or reject you. If they accept you, great, if they don’t that’s okay too. Somebody will like you for who you are, and then you won’t have to pretend to be somebody different while you’re around them. Pretending gets tiring after a while. Don’t set yourself up to have to pretend all the time. Be yourself.”

I wish I fucking knew everything I thought I knew at 17. I listened to her, but I blew her off mostly. It makes me sad now.

The secrets that you keep are ever ready…

Oh do I have secrets. So many fucking secrets. I keep them. I coddle them. I make sure that they are close to my heart and I guard them. Only letting them out when I need to use them for my own awful fucking selfish purposes. In general I seem like a nice guy. But the truth is I’m selfish. Some days I feel guilty about that. Most days I don’t.

Are you ready?
I’m finished making sense
Done pleading ignorance
That whole defense

Spinning infinity, boy
The wheel is spinning me
It’s never-ending, never-ending
Same old story

What if I say I’m not like the others? …

I’m not like the others, I’m not like anybody else. Yes we all have similarities, such as we’re all human, we all bleed, we’re all special and unique. But because of that we’re all the same. It’s a lot like being a damn snow flake. No two are alike. But they’re all the same. At their basic core their just icy little bits of beauty. But when you put them all together they’re a devastating pile of frosty hell. And they all fucking hate you. At the very least they’re ambivalent toward you. They don’t give a fuck what your life plans are. They don’t care what you want out of life. All they do is whatever the fuck they want to do, which is usually making your life a miserable fucking mess. You plow the assholes out of the way and just keep falling back in the path. Because that’s what they fucking want to do. Well I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want to do.

What if I say I’m not just another one of your plays? …

You hear that world. I’m not your fucking whipping boy anymore!
You’re the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender? …

At least I’d like to think that’s true.

In time or so I’m told
I’m just another soul for sale… oh, well …

Seriously I’m up for sale. For enough money I’d promote fucking anything. I have no problem selling out. I’d laugh all the way to fucking bank.

The page is out of print
We are not permanent…

The number one cause of dying, so I’m told, is being born.

We’re temporary, temporary
Same old story

I’m the voice inside your head
You refuse to hear
I’m the face that you have to face
Mirrored in your stare
I’m what’s left, I’m what’s right
I’m the enemy
I’m the hand that will take you down
Bring you to your knees…

No I’m not, but sometimes I do say what other people are only comfortable with thinking to themselves.

So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you? …

Seriously, who are you? Whoever the fuck it is I fully encourage you to go be that fucking person. Life is too fucking short to be anything else.

Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend

What if I say I’m not like the others?
(Keep you in the dark)
What if I say I’m not just another one of your plays?
(You know they all… pretend)
You’re the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?

So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?