It Echoes Here: Contemplating the Different and Lonely Occurance.

It echoes of  loneliness here.
Wrenching thoughts and skittish mental behavior accompany my foolish restlessness.  Inner strife dances from organ to organ, slowly, but quickly confusing my will. Lonesome I yearn for company.
Just a simple companion.
Even a sibling.
A whole year full of echoe
It get boring, feels wasted. And it really only effects me; I mean, I'm free to make plans.
I just fail to.
It's not a big deal really; it's just vacant here, y'see.
Too empty, too quiet.
Turn on the tele', or the phonograph, or the picture-box. Still with them around it all feels too large. Even this place. Ceilings too tall without enough canvas or paper to hang up. Walls become too open and lacking. To bare to captivate my span.
Blank
Does it matter? It shouldn't but sometimes having things to look at, or another here makes it all seem filled up. Maybe it just bothers me only, but solitude wastes time. Get a bit anxious for plans, and come to the realization that no one is around at 2 in the morn. Not to go and carouse around the town. No more cemetery runs at night. Alas these melted with the remaining and muddy winter.
It sure limits the summer a bit. My own mental image of entertainment rivals many others'.
Then again, why am I complaining? I have free time. I have work to do, some of it even enjoyable.
But still.
Still I long for a deep conversation, something to provide a background or foreground to my tasks. I never want to remain this solitary in droning time slots.
It all tugs at me.
Gently, but in annoyance, so it's softness is lost and replaced my stressful yanks.
Always asking, always inching me, keeping me awake from dreaming of something better.
Wherer are you going?
What are you doing?
Why are you so restless?
Instead of Contentment's embrace I shrivel in the cold of solitude. Glaring quietly, I wish to run forward, as if springed. Just to jump and act upon something.
Anything.
I shouldn't be this desperate, but after so long, this is my conclusion.
Since I was little.
School
Home
Camp
Church
Festivals

School
Home
Repeating dread, cycling locations.
Always half-way been the loner. Never really fit into the picture perfect group.
Sometimes I'd have one, y'know close pals, but those change.
Never solid, always evolving, I blame myself.
And why shoudln't I?
Don't I usually cause the strife or discomfort?
Yeah, sure I'm a crucial limb or needed apparatus.
Fat Chance.
None, or very few of them in the collective groups seem to wish me welcome or desire my presence.
Hah.
Let alone understand me.
I'm... just... so. Different.
Different.
It's not wrong, it's just... different.
Cept it doesn't connect with those who aren't.
or are.
To the different, I guess.
Where do you end off when you are so multi-faceted and strange, people don't know what to make of you?
Damn lonely.
I could complain to no end.
wow, I am productive.
Still gotta vent though.
Just wish the "normal" would appreciate something I did for more than a minute.
Something, anything.
I haven't the slightest why I care about their opinion. I mean if they are so different, and I know none of us really "have it all together", why should I care what they think? Maybe it's because the world, society, adults, teachers, anyone in authority looks to them first. the ones they have common interests with.
All those stupid, stupid sports.
Life is such a game, and I'm tired of playing.
I made my own rules, and played by them, and it didn't work.
Not to win the world.
Why the hell am I playing with that as the goal?
To the mirror I proclaim, you infidel!
Grow up and let go of wordly desires.
Stop being a toddler in your faith.
You've got plans, you got talents,
He wants You.
You.
I just can't be satisfied with being good enough for the Creator of the universe, can I?
I'm such a loser.
But, hey, let's blame it on the genes. The Carpenter always struggles with this right? I only barely slip by having obtained my mother's charisma, thinking skills, and optimism.
What a champ.
And the roots of my abilities to survive constantly strangle those closest geographically to me.
Build a new house,
a clean house,
and a stable house.
But just the same;
This house is empty.
This home echoes the same as the old.

Oh boy...here we go.

Expectant, but patience abounds.
Longing, but I stay patient.
Waiting at the rain forest.
This takes forever.
Oh anxious me.
Arrival.
I always forgot how I'm stunned.
All time spent well,
Man; I couldn't ask for anything better.
Ideal has become Reality.
Quick Disbelief, thankfulness immediately follows.
A Finished Puzzle.
Simple but fitting.
Solitary on the roof, waiting.
Loneliness dissipated so quickly.
The roof is still, concrete.
The wind rushes and tussles my knotty mat of hair around.
My ears fill with it's hollow and pushing sound.
The hair on my arms is pushed against the grain with it's short blasts.
The breeze tunes out the rest of my body, as it internally erupts in elation.
Full Grin stole Grimace and locked him away, tossing the key, or forgetting the combination.
Whichever works well.
I'm not too concerned with differentiating, that's the least important of my cares.
I'm not even sure if Joy left any straining cares left residing in me.
I still soar at full speed.
Soaring together.
June 13, 2010.
Fantastic day.

Poor George, hear me out.

whoa.
slow down.
I didn't mean to.
My motives are honest.
This wasn't supposed to blow up in my face or yours.
How can this beauty cause so much tension?
Broken Bridges.
Try and fix it, try and fix it.
I don't have enough planks or ropes.
I need yours too.
If you haven't any to spare, ok.
But that seems to be a reoccurring theme.
I know that now I'm just a reoccurring theme in hindsight.
I didn't want to be just a bad memory or taste left on the cerebral palette.
I thought we were better than that rubbish.
I don't know if I thought wrong.
I know it stings, I know it bites, I know it gashes.
This wasn't my intent. I've got grazed bruises on my vessel.
My wounds fester and rot, I'm not apathetic.
Honesty shouldn't lose.
and it doesn't.
Last week wasn't a proclamation, just truth.
If you can't take my honesty as what it is, and not as hope,
Why were you still around?
My insensitivity is matched with my honesty.
Lies do not slide off my tongue
My lips do not speak falsehoods with the intent of toying.
But as if I have acted untruthfully, accusations and insults dig at me.
With foolish intent to fight fire with fire.
Except, There was no fire.
Still I remain bombarded.
Didn't this happen before?
Wasn't it not as severe as it seemed?
Why must now this trash our bond?
It shouldn't be like this.
I don't give up, I can't tell if you do.
So that's it then.
I don't expect you to understand my motives or process of thought.
But my actions are just a mirror of what's been revealed to me.
I remain open, free and willing, I just follow what I'm told to do.
I'm not sorry it this way.
It's his plan.
I am sorry it's this way.
It shouldn't have to drain you.
I don't want to lose us.
I'll respect you and leave you be,
But I'm still here.
I'm still thankful for what we have, had, have.
Goodbye George.

Honesty Wins

Mutual admiration.
It
Just
Flows
Honest, and free of worry, I am open.
I am vulnerable, but in my vulnerability comfort finds me.
Consoling words  from another, understanding.
True understanding.
Nothing is forced or self-willed
Only will is how his hands guide us, only how we follow the path.
It's blind, it's full of trial, but it's planned, no matter the outcome.
no matter the outcome.
Intent.
No self-want, all the opposite of self-gain.
Content
With it all.
Give & Take.
I breath heavy, skip a beat.
I soar fast, skip a beat.
Swim in the joy, skip a beat.
Elation blooms, skip a beat.
This blissful delirium buds, and grows.
Care-free encounters of house colors
Blessings arise to surprise.
Catch me off guard.
Catch us off guard.
Spy a brilliant sea of contentment.
The coast swells;
High Tide.
Dive In.
Flood the earth, my chamber of four is drenched.
Abundance is shown so quickly, but with such gentle power.
Honesty Wins.

"Orange Colored Sky" Nat King Cole