People do not return phone calls or long almost lost friends fail to answer their phones. Which side do you place fault on? Calls weren't made and emails weren't sent by both opposing forces. Do not say the friendship still exists because it cannot still exist. Calendars are flipped and people grow apart and people change their interests and people change their likes and dislikes. Two months or two years, personalities continue to evolve or corruption occurs. It is inevitable. Redundancy tends to poison a man who stays the same. Onlookers will label the person normal or boring or lazy. Therefore in fear of being labeled a negative drain on the community, I will or you will force change. I am not the same person I was last year or five years ago. I dont care if this is a bad or good thing. If I hate the person I am currently impersonating, I wont revert to past embodiments. Instead i will continue to change until I've changed into a person I and you can be comfortable with. You do not know me. You have only familiarized yourself with previous installments of me. So don't say Im not the person I used to be. No shit, I am aware of this.

I visited my mother's house in rural wisconsin today. The white three story on Racine Street is where I spent my formative years. Much remains the same. The hardwood floors are still cold and the roof continues to a bleed a vibrant red. There's still a strong draft that runs throughout. It makes winter months harsh and hot summer days manageable.

Since I made the exit, three actors have left voluntarily and one was forced out. Kid got killed off during sweeps. His contract was up for negotiation. This leaves one permanent contributor.

The bathroom was remodeled two winters ago, but still embodies the original character of the 1911 completion. A restored low-tank toilet is tucked away in the corner and a bear claw tub sits opposite. An off white vanity permanently caked in Colgate was lost in the transition. Still present is a half empty bottle of oil-free acne face wash. The piss colored Neutrogena has maintained it's position for three damn years, sitting on a shelf above the hot and cold water handles. Left behind by a girl from Texas, who at one time I thought I could love. The bathroom on the third floor was completely gutted, yet this bottle holds strong. It's funny how things remain despite change.

label it a day already.

its a hole in my chest. a cavity empty and blank. its a hole in my chest and my stomach. its my whole goddamn torso. a vacant lot telling me to go fuck myself. A monster eating away, creating a crevice that knows no limits. the flood lights are on and the sirens are going strong. its a warning, listen intently and please take precautions. build up one’s control before you lose it. its a hole in my chest and my stomach and my heart. It’s a hole in my goddamn heart. It whispers discouraging whispers and stomps its feet when it walks. Heavy footed, it’ll keep moving from morning to night but never goes anywhere. Its a fucking badger with claws. Claws that are sharper than sharp. Sharp like broken glass. But stronger than glass. Like steel. A badger with claws that are very sharp and stronger than glass. Its a window that is now broken. It was once a beautiful, wall to wall bay window that was shattered by a brick. The brick lays on the hardwood floor, amid shards of broken badger claws with a note attached telling me to go fuck myself. Wait, its not a beautiful bay window, but a beautiful mansion up on the hill. A beautiful mansion up on the hill that was swiftly demolished, it’s occupants now living in a small tent beside it. Cold, wet, desperate. Its a hole in my goddamn heart. Wide yellow eyes stare into my own. Its a wolf, like the Nothing. and im Atreyu. Milky yellow eyes penetrates everything i’ve built up. Sees right through the transparent defenses. Today is empty and blank, a perfect day for a bananafish. Today is cold and barren. Chicago is futile. Its a hole in my chest and my stomach and my heart and my life. Its been eating away for seven years and doesn’t show any signs of fatigue. Its appetite is unbelievable. It’s grown to an unbelievable size. Behind the desk and next to boxes of old rollingstones and boy’s life. It’s gotten so big, too large and can’t stay there no more. It cries louder than loud. The black bandana tied around it’s mouth does nothing to muffle the obscenities. It hates me. One massive, colossal fucking hole. It’s AT&T destroying the concrete at Milwaukee and Western. Digging up wires and cutting eight lanes down to four. Its a seven year pledge drive on NPR. Its annoying and all encompassing. It’s Terry Gross 24/7 and my car radio wont turn off. The knobs are broken and the cd player’s busted. Its a hole in my goddamn heart.

cool the jets, family is important. friends are too. friends are important but tend to fade like black jeans. family is like white jeans, they dont fade, just wear thin. they stay intact unless some jackass decides to slice through the fabric and make then shorts. but summer only lasts so long. June, July, August, perhaps there's an indian summer. but you’ll need pants again, winter can be fucking rough. And unlike friends, you cant go out and buy new family.

sorry, im wrong. they’re not like jeans.

call it what you will. this energy drink tastes like piss. it makes me want to invent something. it makes me want to be calm and collected and piss in a jar. i could bottle it up. i could sell it for 89 cents. i could sell more than a million, then I could be a millionaire. drink it before pilates i'd say. then you will power through the power 100. Its almost nine and i say you must be awake and alert so you drink this and you can stay awake and you can laugh with the kids and at them. Drink this and fall asleep and dream that you are really awake.

flip flip breathe push flip

She was kind of a ghost to the people of rural Kentucky. Just showing up one day, skin all leather and mouth all gums.

‘She worked the grill at Don’s. Didn’t never talk very much, her head always down,‘ said one wiry old timer. ‘I can’t imagine what man would be desperate enough to bed her, but sure enough. She got the baby growing inside of her.’

The old crow worked through the pregnancy. Don felt bad and wanted to give her some time off, but the woman was a fast cook, flipping and what not. He didn't have a choice. The belly grew quick and large.

‘She was rubbing up against the grill, burning her stomach every shift, making the food taste funny.’

So Don fashioned a makeshift guard out of an old trash can lid and duct tape.

Problem solved.

It was during a dinner shift halfway through the second trimester that Don remembers a funny look on his cook’s face.

‘I just assumed it was gas. Her hand was always in the sauerkraut bucket. She used to eat that shit by the handful.‘ The old lady complained of diarrhea. She used the toilet and came back five minutes later. Don taped her trash lid back on real tight and the two pushed through the dinner rush.

At the end of the night Don paid the women cash, just like he always had. ‘She said something on her way out, but I keep my headphones on when I mop. I just hollered that I’d see her tomorrow.’

It wasn’t until Don was locking up that he heard the baby cry. In the bathroom, hidden behind the toilet and taped up like a hitman’s 9mm was the newborn. Scribbled across the belly in black magic marker, ‘sorry, it wouldn’t flush.’

time to make the donuts. part 1

I run on Dunkin. Since I've lived in the city, I've made it a point to visit the same Dunkin Donut several times a week. They say its a franchise, but I like to think the little shop on Western Avenue is unique. A donut boutique. A one stop shop for all caffeinated needs. The small, but energetic Indian family who own and operate, brews great coffee with precision and their ice cream cones are always shaped without flaws (same space also houses a Baskin Robbins in which im currently having a feud with the girl who scoops the mint chocolate chip. still, my opinion does not diminish her ability to scoop perfectly round balls of ice cream).

Good morning, what would you like?

Hello. Medium coffee, cream and two scoops.

(if you just say sugar, they will automatically give you 3 tablespoons. no thank you, im sweet enough as it it.)

Anything else?

Nope, just coffee (I do think it over though. Contemplating. Apple fritter. French Crueler.)

That's $1.67.

Here you go, have a good one.

You too. NEXT!?

Its entirely too formal. Everyday I walk in thinking they will remember me, this will be the day they will recite my order as I approach the counter or gasp. gasp. have it ready for me when I walk through the advertisement laden windows. they see the same boy, with the same face, the same hair, the same black coat, the same scarf, the same height, the weight fluctuates, but still. Come on. why not. never, not once.

I'm working on one girl though. She's there most AM shifts. She still employs the great costumer service traits as the small energetic Indian family, but has shown me a little extra. She smiles and has an attitude, but it's the 'yeah, im being a bitch, but just to be funny' kind of attitude.

One day I could have sworn she said, 'here comes a two scoop,' as I approached the counter. I think I misheard. I'll keep you updated. I need some compassion in my life. Please, black girl with the nice braids, remember me.

DUNKIN GO'NUTS YO. I GO NUTS FOR DUNKIN DO'NUTS.

doctor said I have a 'brain cloud'. its inoperable.

my chest shakes, my whole body shakes. my lips quiver and i feel it throughout. i fucking hate you.

Please remember not to repeat disasters and please do not do the same thing five times and please remember how you felt and do not allow the sugar to overtake the sour.

somewhat entirely eerie

This song came into my life by two different people, completely unrelated and uninfluenced by each other, a matter of seconds apart. I had to check it out. Thanks for thinking of me.

Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros: Home

At one point I think I might have been in this band or at least contributed to a band of similar composition. Oh, an ode to the days of my youth. Something I strived for but always came up short. I always faked that shit anyways. I never knew what i really wanted, so I built others up around me. Believe what I believe. 'But you better have fun before I tear you down.'

Now this song doesn't necessarily address anything in particular. The messenger was just someone from a different part of my life. Im the same, Im different. Its a good song and Im interested in finding more out about this band.

the little doggy that could.

It was 11 last night as we sat around watching tv. The date came up.

'It's the 13th.'

'Hmmmm.......'

'What?'

'When did we bring Merv home again?'

'September'

'What was the date?'

'I think the 13th.'

'He was 9 months.'

'So that means it's his birthday?

'One year old.'

' 7 in dog years.'

'yep'

'Quick, fashion some sort of birthday cake.'

'I know just the thing.'

'Yeah, use some salami.'

'Put some cheese curds on there.'

'Good idea Kari.'

'Don't use peanut butter.'

'Why not?'

'Peanut butter and salami and cheese?'

'But dogs love peanut butter.'

'Not Merv. Remember what happened last time?'

'Oh yeah. The rug still smells.'

'Besides, the combination is disgusting.'

'Here's some macaroni. it was left on the stove.'

'Who's is it?'

'I dont know. I said I found it on the stove.'

'...........'

'Fuck it, put it on.'

He got excited and pissed the floor. He got embarrassed and hid where we couldn't see him. He was a little hesitant. We cheered him on. He ate his salami and cheese cake.

'Happy Birthday Merv!'

'Yay Merv!'

'You said we brought him home in September right?'

'Yeah'

'But it's January.'

'So?'

'It's January.'

'Shit.'

'Yep.'

'So that means...'

'Uh huh.'

'13 months?'

'..........'

'Happy belated Birthday Merv!'

There must be something going on. Neighbors dialing up neighbors, friends breaking exciting news. ‘You gotta come quick, you gotta check this out.’ Some can’t miss, must see event is happening down the street. A huge mushroom cloud fills the sky, preceded by a giant fireball equal in size to a small Walmart. Maybe the old movie theater finally burned down or some dumb farm kid smoked a cigarette too close to a gas pump. With dust and ash settling, charcoal gray plums of smoke invades the sky. The tired water tower, painted basketball orange back in ’58 to celebrate the highschool’s state championship finally gave way, flooding the city’s streets. It was old and decrepit. Spilled water firmed up and froze, sending cars gliding like a badly choreographed ice capades.

copy/pasta/tasty/paste

The good music blog songs:illinois, turned me onto Sam Doores. From the big easy, he's doesn't have anything proper out, no debut, no ep, no lp. He's got a lot of the young bobby d. coming from him. reminds me of another side, one that The Tallest Man on Earth doesn't necessarily touch.

When I’m Out In The Wind

True To My Luck

noise makers! confetti! gasps! cheers! salutations!

NYE party was a success. Sparkling drinks and noise makers went off without a hitch. Someone brought cupcakes and made whiskey sour sloshes. I didn't kiss anyone at midnight nor did I get drunk. Kids all cleared out by 2am. The floor was so goddamn sticky. Mostly from spilled drinks. I had to clean it up the next day after work. Look at the mess from the living room. Here's to 2010.

merv needs no introduction. he enjoys the snow and the salt and the brick buildings enforcing consistent boundaries.

soundtracks yo

There is nothing quite like sitting in a coffee shop, bobbing one's head to Fabolous. Ghetto Fabolous, gotta be thug, all day everyday. Bobbing one's head to hip hop, then next up on shuffle? Regina Spektor. Im pretty sure they go hand in hand.

Kids with their scarves, boys in furry hats, adults looking nerdy, girls with hair pulled back, nice and tight.

Is that kid checking out? He's putting on his coat. Boy I really want his chair, it's right next to a power outlet. No, turns out he's just cold.

I got to get out of chicago. I got to stay away from wisconsin.

no ones home.

‘He’s got a show tonight.’

‘He does?’ I ask a bit confused.

‘His bands playing at the VFW hall.’ She takes one last drag before stabbing out the cigarette. ‘He didn’t tell you about it?’

‘No, I guess he forget.’

‘Thats funny. He was pretty excited about it.’ Not funny Mom, just weird. Him and I shared all that shit.

We look at each other for a moment before she breaks. ‘There’s some leftover tenderloin in the fridge if you’re hungry.’

like a mountain

woke up and heard a jet flying high above my bedroom. thunder hit me and my eyes were wide. it cut through the city noise below.