Touched by an angel

I hate the night time. I hate being alone, and in the dark. So the lamp stays on all night long. And I see shadows. Sometimes I wonder if they are demons, coming to claim my soul, after everything I've taken from this world. I don't believe I am a good person. So when someone that has every reason not to trust u offers just a little comfort, a little love, it is essence like u have been touched by an angel. And I have gained so much knowledge from my angel. It is as if they were put here for me. My angel is sick right now. Please pray for them. It's been a while, and I don't really remember how...as strange as that sounds. But I am trying. On a different note, I am not feeling too bad. My wounds are still bleeding out a little. But it's a temporary flesh wound. I hope a life of meth is temporary too. Please remember to share your heart with the world. Love to all.

Sorry (reprised)

So I ended up cutting my wrists last night. My body was numb, as were my emotions and thoughts. I cut through a thin layer of skin, trying to split the vein. Unfortunately, the blade in my box cutter is extremely dull. I put an "t" or a cross on each wrist, (if u make a jagged edge cut, the paramedics or drs have a very hard time trying to sew the veins back together again.) Frustrated that I didn't cut the vein, and that I was going to wake up again tomorrow, I thrust the blade under my left eye, next to my nose. After that, I passed out. And what really hurts, Drew saw me unconcious on the bathroom floor for like 6 hours, and left me there:-( it's like nobody cares. He used the bathroom while I layed there. Said he just checked to make sure I was still breathing. He is the only person, the only family I have. And yet he didn't try to wake me up.
**************************************************************************************************I did write a note here last night. But decided to go back and delete that with this one. I am okay. But tired. I am sorry guys.

a good day

Finally...it's nice when we get those every now and then. I managed to sell two paintings. Didn't get as much as I wanted for them....told the lady to make me an offer. I got 400 for 2 oil based paintings. They both are large and had frames...could have gotten a lot more. One was of Mt. Shasta, the other was a landscape with a river. All the materials and frames probably cost around 150. And I understand it if the the people can't afford much...I have to understand. The landscape tag was 400 alone...oh well. I have to do whatever it takes. Maybe tomorrow I'll sell another one or couple. We'll see. Anyone need an artist? Oil, accrylic, watercolor, pastel, charcoal...leave me a message:-)

if not for having to wake up!

Finally slept, (about 5 hours Thursday afternoon, and 18 hours today)! My body was so tired. But the downfall is that I have to wake up...I didn't want to lift even an eyelid. Downers like meth just make u want to die practically all the time. (So for all u drama queens, any extra curricular activities u want to own up too?? Kidding, kidding). Hard times find us all at some point or another. But if u just hang on... maybe some light or maybe even an angel will find you. Never know. Hold on. Love to the world.

still no sleep

I still haven't slept, but I feel like after this post, I'll sleep for like 20 hours. Last night we did a little bud, (see, I am down grading!) Can't believe how well Drew can roll the joints. I had a little too much to drink...11 beers? 12? 15? I already forget. With the beer, the cush, and a little B&J and J&D, I was pretty spun. Oh well... so much for rehab, huh? Not much more to say. Going to bed now. G'nite everyone :-P

Crossing borders

In 2001 I found myself in Portland with a little bit of weed, a pack of smokes, and a glass pipe...and an address and phone number for a buddy. Those items were priceless to me. They ment more to me then the backpack that carried everything I had in this world. But I began to think about things that actually ment more but that I didn't possess. It's a true story, called crossing borders.

In Santa Fe and San francisco,
The church bells ring
Before the ashes smolder on
The pavement.
It is a beautiful sound,
As I lay in Portland,
Acknowledging the swears and cuss
I offered all the way here.

Outside the bus terminal,
Old men told lies.
One of their tales touched my ear.

"Your an illegal?"
"Yes".
"Aren't u afraid someone will report you"?
"No".
His eyes grasp u before he walks away.

In my mind, I see him
Crossing borders with his dreams in toe.
And I wish in some way
That I had such a worthy cause.

The first people to fall in love

Poem I wrote years ago inside an old Ford ecconoline van. At the time, the van was also "home" for me. It is my quiet yearning to feel a little love. Dedicated to all those that just want to feel love.

The light wind is
Nesting under my head tonight,
And I feel very light weight.

I am reminded,
Like I was the one that bore witness
To all the tragedies of the world,
Of the first people to fall
In love.

They must have felt confused,
Not knowing the effects of the
Pure emotions that assembled their
Fragmented hearts.

How lost the woman's eyes must have been
As she touched the caveman's hands
And openly read everything he has to say
Before he says it.

And what about the caveman-
How did he see her beauty?
He probably fell asleep on a
Cold, damp rock only
To wake up the next morning to
Find his beauty dead.

Sadly, the rest of the cavemen cry
And he sits alone
Disconcerted.

was it a dream?

I sit at home today, trying to break this buzz. Even the "meth monsters" have gone to bed. And I am just here, picking up a couple burnt cigarettes from the ground. They won't light tho. Oddly enough, I am not sure if it was real or just a desired dream-but I think I had a friend on the phone for a few hours last night, asking for help. I think she called someone for some information to get me some help. If that is the case, then I am scared shitless. But that fire inside may come back to life...we'll see. Afraid of being taken away and hurting or offending anyone else. Afraid of how long I will last in a lockdown hospital. Afraid of the treatment not working. Afraid of looking in a mirror or trying to open up and awknowledge all the issues associated with my substance abuse. Don't know if I am ready, but I'll find out soon enough. I feel pretty worthless right now. Not sure what else to say here.

Can people change?

Cloudy and rainy...the perfect kind of weather for me! Not exactly sure why...perhaps it is the sound or the smells...or the distant likening of all that's going on inside. Everytime I light up or snort, I say never again. As was the scenario last night. But the baby faced man upstairs laughed and reminded me how dependant on the crystal I am. I don't believe that people really change all that much. After changes upon changes, we are more less the same. And I feel like fighting would be worthless at this point. I lost my best friend in a lie...might as well let it completely consume me.

God, are u listening?

Today if u were to measure how ultra hot the surface of the sun is, I would most likely be the thermometer that u might use. I am so busted-not broken, BUSTED! I am finding little pieces of myself in pools of anger and lonliness and shame. I don't know if I can make it thru tonight...I've never felt this kind of hurt before. Please, Father, if u are around and u do love me, then please, just sit here with me. I am sooo scared right now. And send me a hand. Please, this time, I won't throw it back.

Gethsemane

My faith is almost non existant at times. This is the hardest part of being a drug addict; u take and take without giving back. I am sorry I take so much. But I do acknowledge the incredible miracles God has given me. And I really hope I can give back to those who need a little inspiration. Remember to share love.

My heart has traveled distances since
Tears first flourished from it.
I imagine them nesting very silently
Inside the womb of my
Savier and Redeemer tonight
As I am questioning my own thoughts.

How truthful my tears were,
I might never know.
As of right now,
My only level of endurence is of
Those tears that were once shed for me
And my brothers and sisters by
A perfect man.

That simple man,
Whose tears replenish my heart.
What was once a verb now
Possesses reason and
A natural, likeable tone and faith.

My weary eyes have finally awakened
To see the posture of this man
Who is level with hands and heart
Upon the ground.
For one eternal second it looks as though
He bows before you and I,
As though he were not worthy of
His own name.

His tears so truthful and
His heart surpassing nature and wind,
He becomes immortal in my concentration
And perception of love.

Now, as my heart blossoms inside that garden
It is my turn to embrace Him as He
Testifies onto me the wisdom to grow.
For He is my Savior,
My first love,
And I bow before Him
With heart in awe.

pastel city

This is a poem I wrote from "pastel city". Orem Utah has many different shades, different weights, and different vibrances. I could picture in my mind angels quietly coloring it before the sunrise. For almost 4 years, it was home to me. Just about everything inspired me about this city-but nothing inspired me more then the contrast between a city that seemed to be lost inside a small town. For my friends and family in Orem, I love you.

My first letter home,
I wrote about being at
The bottom of a gravy or
Tapioca bowl.
There, people march
To work,
To school,
To the arms of their eternal loves.

Somewhere, a drifter steps off
A train in the cold of night
And dreams of the story he will tell
The woman sitting across from him
On the bus tomorrow.

He will dream in the serenity that
Divides him from
Heart to heart.

St. Cloud at dusk

St. Cloud, Minnesota is where my heart is. I left it there while visiting a friend just about three months ago now. It's a place that just about anyone can fit in or call home for a season or two. The world has seen the pictures, but it retains it's desire to be tucked away.

With the sun in
The forcipes of an ageless night,
The flashes of the sunrise,
Taken with a camera,
Are as vauge as the oxygen that
Escapes this lonely city.

From the mother's that
Read to discover the sound of
Their voice,
To the unwanted who
Just want a place to call home,
St. Cloud escapes the world
With it's koda chrome.