Poem #2

I still hate poetry. Here is another attempt.

Hello

Welcome

Are you comfortable?

Can I get you a water?

Iced tea?

No? Good.

Lets begin.

Rule One: Stop thinking.

You work too hard.

You deserve a break.

Take your shoes off. Put your feet up. Let those argyle toe-mittens breath.

There you go, now isn’t that better?

Rule Two: Take it all in.

What’s around you?

It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?

Oh, hello ground, when did you get there?

Now imagine you’re on beach.

Think about the waves lapping the shore.

Feel the warm sand between your toes.

Are you doing it?

Can you imagine it?

WELL CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!

WHAT WAS THE FIRST GODDAM RULE?

STOP THINKING YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

Rule Three: Turn off.

That’s right, its quitting time.

You’ve been doing your best to make no impact on this world.

You don’t read.

You don’t go anywhere.

You don’t create anything.

You wake up every morning and drag your waste-of-a-space body to work.

A taupe cubicle and a lone cat poster.

And every day you want to say, “Fuck you cat. I do not want to ‘Hang In There’”

But you don’t because you are a pussy.

A tepid. Stagnant. Pussy.

And the really depressing thing is you’re content with your life

I mean, god forbid you go out and experience anything.

Add some variety

Some worth.

Nope.

If it’s not within arm’s reach, it’s not worth the effort.

So lets shut ‘er down.

Trust us you’re better off gone.

End of tape.

Please continue on side B.

Order & Confusion: A Poem

I absolutely hate poetry. This is a poem.




There was a 
dull, 
potent, 
gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach. 
I was scared. 
There are few things in life I know I can trust 
whole heartedly, 
and at the top of that very short list is my Mind. 
My Mind.
But my Mind, 
my own conscience had abandoned me. 
The usual organized 
                    stacks 
                       of 
                          thoughts 
                             and 
                                facts 
were being blown around.
All clarity was lost.

What's your favorite type of movie?

When people ask me what my favorite type of movie, I always get a bit sheepish. I love documentaries, but I donʼt love that I love documentaries. When I think of someone who says they like documentaries, a picture of a pretentious "film-student" comes to mind. Someone who wears a sports coat with elbow pads over a faded Beatles tee shirt. Hipsters, would-be intellectuals, Starbucks-philosophers. This is not a group of people I would readily associate myself with, but I canʼt help it. I love them. They seem so much more relevant than scripted films. Itʼs the same philosophy I have about books. Iʼd much rather read non-fiction over fiction. Why just be entertained when you can be entertained and learn at the same time. Now donʼt get me wrong. I love scripted films and fictional novels, but real life will almost always be more interesting than anything that you make up. Writers work their entire lives to capture and be able to reproduce believable characters and situations, but they can only come close. As we delve deeper into my love of documentaries, we come to my favorite sub-genre: travel documentaries.

I have a serious case of wanderlust. When I was a kid, we didnʼt have a whole lot of money. Because of that, we didnʼt go on “vacations”. Instead, we camped. We lived in San Jose, CA at the time, so we camped all up and down the west coast. Since then, I have loved traveling the country, backpacking and camping wherever I can. When I watch these travel docs, I get a taste of that feeling I get when I travel. Actually, it mostly just fuels the fire. One documentary that always puts me in a traveling mood is 10mph. Itʼs a full length documentary entirely available on Youtube. The concept of the film is simple. A crew of filmmakers take a transcontinental trip from Oregon to Maine... on a Segway. As a future filmmaker, this type of movie would be a dream to work on. Everyday, waking up in a new city. Having to overcome all of the problems we encounter along the way. Dealing with crew member conflict. The key to this film is in itʼs simplicity. There is enough of a framing devise to keep the story consistent, but itʼs not so distracting as to over shadow the interactions and story arc of the filmmakers themselves.

A couple of summers ago, I went on the quintessential road trip. 3 of my friends and I loaded up a van and took off to explore the West. We werenʼt exactly sure where we were going, where we wanted to end up, or even how long weʼd be gone. We wanted to just see where the wind took us. Well, three weeks later, the wind had taken us from Indianapolis to St. Louis, down Route 66, to the Grand Canyon, into Las Vegas, over to Los Angeles, up Californiaʼs coastal highway, into San Francisco, around Crater Lake, through Yellow Stone, to Chicago, and finally back home. If only I had filmed the experience. Then, someone could live vicariously through us.