Quotes

Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion.
-Hegel

Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world.

We forfeit three-fourths of ourselves to be like other people.
-Schopenhauer (both)

All I know is I'm not a Marxist.
-Karl Marx

Attention

Attention lovers, I am writing a novel.

I Can't Help Picturing It

I hate how how one amazing song,
Which used to somehow transmit all of what I wanted,
Now refuses to bring about any thoughts,
Except that day in the mountains.

I am hoping it is just from the recency,
The sun receding to sleep like I knew I wouldn't,
The mountains never said a thing but made the most,
Vivid impression I've had in a while.

I took it all in near the end,
And maybe I shouldn't have done that,
Now I remember exactly where I was,
Staring into a buck's eyes as if to query am I meant for this?

I really did think you were asleep,
And I was engulfed by some great emotion,
Letting myself admit that maybe you had a good time,
And maybe you were happy there beside me.

I actually stopped as I was craving my bed the other night,
Hearing the wind through the crack in my front door,
I stepped out and never noticed,
How real the stars are from my own house.

I think my only qualm is with myself,
In the indecision this has put me in,
The turbulance-ridden mindset I reside under,
And I still can't find a word for you.

As much as this rings in my ears constantly,
I always put on this very song,
And I don't want to say if that means something,
Or if there's something to mean.

Still so scared.

Yea

I really should help people more.
And I just popped my knee.

Incredible Song

Ok I just had to post the lyrics to this amazing Sufjan Stevens song:

Casimir Pulaski Day

Goldenrod and the 4H stone,
The things I brought you when I found out,
You had cancer of the bone.

Your father cried on the telephone,
And he drove his car into the navy yard,
Just to prove that he was sorry.

In the morning through the window shade,
When the light pressed up against your shoulderblade,
I could see what you were reading.

All the glory that the Lord has made,
And the complications you could do without,
When I kissed you on the mouth.

Tuesday Night at the Bible study,
We lift our hands and pray over your body,
But nothing ever happens.

I remember at Michael's house,
In the living room when you kissed my neck,
And I almost touched your blouse.

In the morning at the top of the stairs,
When your father found out what we did that night,
And you told me you were scared.

Oh the glory when you ran outside,
With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied,
And you told me not to follow you.

Sunday night when I cleaned the house,
I find the card where you wrote it out,
With the pictures of your mother.

On the floor at the great divide,
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied,
I am crying in the bathroom.

In the morning when you finally go,
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low,
And the cardinal hits the window.

In the morning in the winter shade,
On the first of March on the holiday,
I thought I saw you breathing.

All the glory that the Lord has made,
And the complications when I see His face,
In the morning in the window.

All the glory when He took our place,
But He took my shoulders and He shook my face,
and He takes and He takes and He takes.

~love~

Past

When I think of where I've live,
I don't miss it because I know I can't go back.

But I remember it.

I Have Ceased to be Capable of Coherent Thought

I think I am at my best here,
Watching the million tiny peaks float along,
This is my dock, my lake, my life,
I owe so very much.

It should be so lonely being the only one out here,
But I feel so many around somewhere,
The wind is starting to bit and this jacket isn't much help,
Still not much could make me move.

If you were here,
I'd probably be better at explaining this,
I'll bring you someday if you care,
And show you were I am in love.

God it's embarrassing how much I drift to you,
Your smile when it's completely honest,
And the catch I feel when I get the details straight in my head.

I forgot there were wind chimes here,
Rusted like most of the leaves now,
And I will suffer the breeze still,
Because it makes such beautiful music.

I am so insecure off these rotted planks,
Even of these very words,
But I'm starting not to care,
Can you commend me for that?

I'm still after the same old same old,
That one feeling I can't pen,
Catching glimpses so far apart,
Unforgetably framed and eternally sought.

Please, Please Forgive!
I know I am only rambling,
And I apologize for taking your time,
You really do have to just be here.

Could I tell you to your face?
How you stop everything,
Or have you heard it so much that it can't be true,
No matter how true it is.

I'm laughing at the fish,
Pen in my mouth like a pipe,
And thinking how much I want to sleep out here,
And see what dream that brings.

When I laugh at nothing,
It's because I'm scared as hell,
More than any politics could do,
You shake my heart.

I wish I could help more people,
And stop at least some of the unnecessary shit,
That goes on in the back of our minds,
Maybe I'll take up banjo.

The wind's up to cresting waves,
And the geese are floating in,
I'll take it as the right time to stop this one,
But I'm still not moving.

Red Cricket Ball

Unpacking I find,
That red cricket ball,
Scars digging in on all sides,
The lace beginning to come undone.
Just holding it right,
Catching the scent of that field,
I remember where every cloud was in the sky,
And every word that was said.
So important and yet so small,
So much was said in that red cricket ball,
Now it serves to punctuate those events,
Empathetic as it rests in my hand.
I toss it up for good measure,
Thinking of all the distance it's traveled,
All the hands it's seen,
And all the time that's passed.
I know when I'm lonely I'll return,
To this red cricket ball,
With it they almost seem real again,
And it doesn't hurt as much.

Trabajar

It is my delegated post to harness,
These endless unshapen thoughts and makings of dreams,
To carve them clean and give them shape,
To manifest whatever floats in those yearning.

For I am the Writer,
Allbeit not a good one is true,
But as such I must transmit,
That which is before only felt now real to you.

Full Circle

One of these days I will fade for good,
And then I can finally return to that summer home,
With all my friends and none of my baggage,
Will I even be able to speak on that day?

Sit down with a cranberry and orange muffin,
And wait for Emma Watson to come back around,
Or run out in the neverending downpour,
For some water-fight soccer action.

The alleys cry out every memory,
Every joke and every change,
Everything I could ever want and so do,
So much contained in that aging stone.

Everyone will be there when I come up that road,
Life will come complete and it will be my chosen Heaven,
I want to hear every one of your lives right away,
Right back on those steps I will finally be at the right home.

**Special thanks to Liam-No one could replace you Wingman, Cody-my capitalist Goose I will go get you those chips soon, Alyssa- you're one in a million, and that's not just cus of the scrabble obsession, Skye- I promise never to complain if you snag some of my chips ever again, Noor- I'm not sure I've ever met anyone so full of life or ever will again, Sara(h)- I took the "h" back (zombie victory!), Tosh- my little wcheeeee you're too special, Carolyn- dorkette you were a dream come true, Sheru- mellow really is the best life man, Michael Wong- MICHAEL WONG!!!, Geoff- you make me want to go to Canada (never before accomplished by mere mortal), Jaimie- the only one to most distance herself from the power of words to describe I can only say incredible, Anna- Brazilian will we ever understand each other's sarcasm?, Reva- How hard it was to walk you through that airport you will never know, Nick- cheese dick homo budd I shoulda taken that walk with you, Josey- you're on the phone right now aren't you?, entire S&D class- P.O.I. we kick ass, and HERE COMES THE LIST!!!

THE STEPS, Staircase IV Entrance, Pembroke Quad, Chef's Corner, Coffee Republic, G&D's, PIAZZA, Borders, Waterstones, University Park, Ben's Cookies, The Mitre, Christ Church Meadows, Sainsbury's, and OXFORD!!!

I know this thing doesn't do a shred of justice to you guys. I know I forgot so many people and so many places, so just ask me and of course I'll add you, but I just thought I had to write something about Oxford or I was going to explode. So there you go. I love all of you. -Tyler**

Open Eyes

I close my eyes to picture it in sleep,
Someday when the leaves are falling,
She'll smile and no words will be said,
And the fingers will subtly lace.

Never anything so simple,
Never anything so quaint,
As the neat tip of her nose,
The radiant smile set upon her face,

I pray to God we don't have much,
Just an apartment and some laughs,
My universe really was made for two,
Everyone else a beautiful background music,

I refuse to wake up from it this time!
From what I'm so unsure of fulfillment,
On darkening knees I will not give this up,
I will fight for the illusion if that is what I have,

But the sun knows me better,
And the seasons are coming right,
For my eyes to be open,
And the same real to play through.

Purple Glasses

I have taken off my purple glasses,
The world is not cool enough now,
But that part of my night is over,
I can never go back,
To my purple glasses.

Similarities

At the core of all men is one long, continuous shout.

I am joining in that at the moment.

Viva.

The Royalty

Clear steps on a marble floor,
Statues from both sides stare me down,
Time escapes me but I know this is the end,
Ornamented doors ahead beg no invitation.

Where the hell are we anyway?
I don't like the shadow I am casting,
Dark and menacing it follows,
Marching with me to some final showdown.

I've been talking in my sleep,
Conversing with nocturnal demons,
Sacrificing up the last few drops of endurance,
I had managed to retain all this time.

I can't look at you with the same ease,
And I'm guaranteed to misread all your actions,
But there is no way to strip the importance off this,
My pride simply won't allow it.

We are sophisticated killers you and I,
And I hope I'm losing my touch,
The nights alone are hell to me,
And your glances are getting to be too much.

Put on something sexy and we'll dance this bitch out,
It's last call and my shadow's long gone,
We are the rulers of this deserted stronghold,
And this my candlelight courtship.

(phrase "dance this bitch out" credited to Megan Mooney=hilarious)

On a Request...

I have been most kindly commanded to give a little background on Jennifer Quell (look, I've already told you something new!). She is one of the few people to truly have a unique life literally from birth, since her father insisted that before they even wrapped a blanket around the screaming newborn, she had to be see the world through the retro glasses worn by the infamous Mickey from Natural Born Killers. Not the actual pair used of course, but replicas her father snagged as a promo way back when the film premiered. You could almost say she always had her own special tint of the world from that point on. After the trip home from the hospital, Jen was introduced to a snug 1-level house on the West Coast. Her childhood consisted mainly of childish things, except she would never, ever play with dolls.

"They're just such a poor representation of humanity," she told Tucker on the one occasion that she ever mentioned anything about her past to him. "I mean, they're supposed to be this model of a human, but they're so still. So dead. And people just aren't like that. Not real people at least; people who are actually awake."

She never used the term "alive" when referring to her "real" people, it was always awake. Tucker remembered the shock in her face when he showed signs of confusion as to how someone could be asleep all the time but alive. "Oh, you could sleep through your entire life if you wanted to. Well, I guess really you either do or don't from the start, but you can wake up in life. But it's rare. And I've never met anyone who was awake and then went to sleep."

He had laughed at that, because it was said just as he was yawning. He also remember what happened next quite well.

She had jumped up with no discernable reason or purpose, and started dancing. Not a fancy dance or even a party dance. In fact, Tucker couldn't tell if she had any technical involvement in it besides spinning in circles. He remembered bursting out laughing, then trying to mute himself. She stopped to face him, seemingly more from his concealment than the laughter. He had instinctively appologized.

"I'm not embarrassed. It feels like there is someone else doing this same thing somewhere else right now. It's a way to connect."


Author's Note: I feel as if I may have failed in my task of deciphering more about her, but I think this last bit summarized Jennifer as best I can at the moment. Yes I know it ties in with the other story, but I think that may mean that Jennifer is something bigger in my head than I first thought. As it is for now though, Jennifer is a simple thing:

Jennifer is a dance.

Abyss Proves God

I have been assured that we were made in some God's image,
Someone generous enough to darken our minds,
To add an abyss for us to peer down into,
And an endless sky with a changing moon.

It is to this that we were called,
And it is to this adventure I am a slave!
One who stops under shade trees,
to journal of his various experiences.

Of a man who never quite touched the ground and one day drifted off,
Of a woman bound to the storm she carried and those she snared,
Of the hell and the tightrope hope above it,
And of the hill at the end of it all (for this one).

Of course this last is still in the distance,
And this traveler has much to write!
What can one see through other windows?
And what can surprise will surely be worth noting!

Everything has past me yes,
And oh God! I thank you for them!
As is Everything before us,
And I would much love the company.

Just A Thought...

It has been my experience that in my short and ignorant life thus far, the worst thing one can discover is that nothing has changed.

Likewise Part 3 of 3

The large man had been gracious enough to let Tucker take the day off. In truth he was more than happy to do so, but Tucker still thought it a kind gesture. They got into a taxi and Tucker directed the man to his apartment. But everytime he would look over at her, he would be back in his car, driving her places because she had wrecked when racing a boy to prove that girls could race too.

He lived on the second floor, and fumbled with the keys unlocking the door. He opened it to his old room where he grew up. There was only a bed, a bookcase, and a desk buried in crumpled wads of paper, all containing various attempts to tell her how he felt. He blinked and it was his apartment again. Robotically he walked to the couch and sat with a thud. At last his body seemed to give under the pressure. She sat placidly opposite him in a chair, hands folded in her lap. Still those green eyes penetrated him.

"Jennifer, " he said, and there was some power in it, as if validating her existance.
"No one calls me that. You know it's always been Jen," she said playfully.
"I...I don't know what to say, " Tucker stammered out.

That was a lie. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to say how he loved her, lover her back then and still loved her now, and how he hadn't forgotten a thing.

"I always knew you did, " she said. His breath caught. His own mind had betrayed him!

She got up and sat back down beside him, facing him. The only other time they had been this close and alone was when he gave her the lighter. He had kissed her then.

And he kissed her now.
Back then he figured she had just played it off to the moment. This time he didn't care, and would make up an explanation and convince himself of it later.

With unimaginable strength he pulled back. For the first time he spoke directly to those green eyes. "Is this what I've been waiting for?"


She smiled just like she did when two versions of the same soul first saw each other.

Likewise Part 2 of 3

He was stocking when she came back.

"Do you have Cat's Cradle by any chance?" asked a female voice. He was down on one knee filling up the next-to bottom shelf and didn't turn around immediately. "It's by........by........"

"Vonnegut," he said as he stood up and turned around at the same time.

Suddenly he was 16 again at a local football game. He didn't really care about football, but his friends had practically dragged him to it, and now he was thirsty. Musing over how many other drinks he could have had elsewhere for the price of the one in his hand, he was walking back to his seat when he saw her. He thought she had black hair at first, but would find out that it was just a very dark brown. And green eyes. Green eyes that stopped you. Just like they were doing to him now. Someone bumped his shoulder and muttered a swear word. She was wearing a short jean jacket, with what had to be fake fur around the edges and cuffs, because later she would tell him how she hated to see any animal hurt. She was standing still too, and looking at him. After all these years, he never forgot the way she first smiled.

"Yes! Vonnegut!" She smiled the same way. Tucker blinked a few times before becoming fully present in the moment again. He didn't want her not to remember him. Frantically his mind searched for some key event, some pivotal point in time that would bring it all back to her. He thought of the last night before she went off to college. He still had another year before he went, and they weren't even going to the same school. They had both ditched a farewell party and had driven out to the highway. They parked in the median, and were laying in the grass listening to the cars pass on both sides. He had given her a lighter, not because she smoked (he knew she despised even the idea) but because...

"Fire is always so alive and so bright, and that is how I'll always remember you."

He stood there trying to read some kind of response in those green eyes, but could draw nothing. Then her hand slowly reached into one tight front pocket, and pulled out a lighter with a lion carved into one side. She had always said she wanted to be a lion when she was a kid. Now her green eyes were searching him.

"Tucker?"

***

Likewise Part 1 of 3

Bookstores aren't that bad.
You have plenty of time to think,
and plenty of time to read other people's thoughts.

At least that's what he thought about it. The large man behind him who signed his check every thursday had trouble accepting that.

"Listen Tuck all I'm saying is that you need to get out more. Hell, even if it's just to another bookstore, go somewhere besides here and the laundry mat. " The large man's brows twisted with concern as his fingers traced his suspenders. Tucker put down a copy of American Gods and went into the back room. A minute later he reappeared with his jacket slung over his back and another book in his hand.

"Then I guess I'll read at home," he said with childish ease as he walked to the door. The old man's expression relaxed to a helpless frown.

"Don't you have any friends to go out with? Or a girlfriend?"
"I have a few friends, yes, but none anywhere close. And I could never have a girlfriend. " This last came out with an almost matter-of-fact tone, as if the large man should've known this already.

"And just why not?"
As he reached the door, Tucker turned his head to answer. "Because the only girl I ever loved is still somewhere out there and I still love her. Should I abandon that just because I haven't any reason to believe I will ever see her again?"

He pushed down on the black bar to release the latch. The large man sat down where Tucker had been reading.
"Well, pick up some red wine on your way home! A book is always better with some wine." He settled back and closed his eyes as the door swung back into place with a Clack!

* * *