upon waking, i scribble furiously

after particularly vivid dreams i often wake and am unable to fall
back to sleep. my mind just keeps turning them over. i have made it a
habit for a few years to write them down as quickly as possible. i
offer up last nights most vivid coalescence.

thistle caught a twined, melodic Toe, but even the smithy's anvil's
weight could not bear the circumstance. happening a lark wherein the
meager chances roost, Calamity joined a quaint but able Minstrel. Toe,
unlike the music played, tapped a rhythm forgotten by Fingers.

when lively a poor, undeserving, smiling child met with dark treasure,
Toe's mind lit a sound, seething thought. sharing with the Minstrel
this unkempt notion, Minstrel sang of the bluest dawn. nothing barring
this crafty charm, the two collected the child, dark, lit by the shy
magenta cast of the sky.

sometimes, i think i should not write after a rendezvous with rum.

ghost

four days deep

i'm back from summer time, and i'm finding everything is strange in
this very familiar place. it's a different vibe, entirely different
from what i've known the last few years here. maybe my head was in a
different space when i left last june. i don't know. i'm trying new
things this year, but i feel as if the past is somehow applying
pressure to this present. i'm not sure how to explain it, really.

you know, the past isn't anything like cobwebs. it's like duct tape.
it's not pretty and, man, does it stick.

i keep telling myself to give it a couple of weeks. it'll feel more
comfortable once we're back in the swing of it, i'm sure of it. until
it does though, i'm sitting in the same space i've occupied for the
last dozen years in a stranger frame of mind. i keep expecting my mind
to operate as it did, but how did it operate? it's a memory based
solely on context.

i wish i felt more solid.

let me not waver. let me press on, because i really am ok. it's just
this place, this seat from where i am writing this.

shadows linger.

ghost

first day

today is my first day back for the new school year. it is of course a
roller coaster ride emotionally. they always are. this is my
thirteenth first day of school and just like all the others, i
couldn't sleep a wink last night.

but, this isn't about that.

this is for my baby boy, my tiny Tank who is growing big and strong
and reminds me so much of me, it's almost scary. today is his first
day of school in a big public school. he is as excited as i am anxious
for him. he's still my baby to this day. he's five now, and like all
parents, i wonder where it went.

my little guy. he was so sick saturday night. he began complaining of
a belly ache around 7:30. he began projectile vomiting shortly after
that. i spent that evening holding him, this little chunk of solid
muscle because he hurt and he couldn't get comfortable enough to fall
asleep. when he finally did, i sat beside his bed with a vomit bucket
because this thing came in waves. he fell asleep for an hour, then
started moaning as it built to the point of puke again. he was still
only semi conscious when he vomited and he, with eyes closed and arms
outstretched, said, "daddy." i picked him up and he snuggled against
me, tiny arms finding their way between mine, head against my chest.
"daddy's got you, little buddy." and there i sat for hour after hour.

as he starts kindergarten, i know it's not his first school
experience. we've had in in day school for two years. but this is
public school, with much bigger and older kids roaming the same halls.
and as excited as i am for him, a big part of me wishes i was nearby
to pick him up and tell him, "daddy's got you, little buddy."

i guess it's every parent's worry. but he's a good boy. strong and
smart and mine.

I have so many good things to count.

ghost

Late night games

Life is like Tetris. Do something good, and it disappears. But our mistakes, they accumulate. In the end, they reach the ceiling and then it's game over.

Ghost

Almost back

The summer heat has been oppressive, as Texas summers usually are. Originally I had every intention of completing any number of little projects this summer. Instead, I've taken a break from all things creative. I've read books, more this summer than in the last three years combined. I've absorbed movies and stories. And I feel refreshed. I feel ready to produce magic.

School starts tomorrow. Be patient with me, dear ones. I'm coming home.

Ghost

closer to home

often, we dream of distant stars. i have done my share of wishing on
those balls of gas. i know you have too.

but now, i find i enjoy the warmth and the light of candles.

ghost

coming close

the kids are not here, and i find myself wandering from room to room
as if i'm going to find them playing with all too familiar mischief in
their eyes. i find often that i am lost when they are away. do you
think i'll ever get used to this? will it ever not suck? three plus
years and i still ache.

the power was out earlier in the afternoon. a sudden and violent rain
storm blew through and made a mess of the works. it's in and out now,
the power, not the storm, and it's too damn hot to sleep. i go for a
drive instead. at least the a/c in the truck is on. i still feel
sticky though. august in texas. f*ck humidity.

it's two thirty in the morning. i've got a sonic cup full of sweet
tea, a head full of static, and the world feels vaguely unreal, made
of a dark purple cotton candy i'm not sure i should eat. like sickly
treats offered up by some sketchy character trying to lure me into his
van.

come on, Alexis Krauss. take me away from myself for a while.

again.

ghost

I'm an optimist.