The essence of an alleyway 

We were family, now we are food

I love you but… 

The rent is due and

Rome is falling

Pillars plummet 

And villages pillage

I’m in love.

I don’t know if I’ll get to you in time,

I pray on our future,

while they prey on our past,

memories into memoirs

Please never forget me.

There are so many ways to say I love you,

But what I really wish for is to never lose you

Sick, sad, cold and alone.

I see horrific things when I close my eyes,

But feel at home when you hold me.

Your love is out of this world,

And so are the others.



schrödingers mailbox

NOVEMBER 19, 2014 

(Today 2/25/2017) 
I hate mail, not mail as an entity but more the inherent attributes associated with it. To be more specific, I hate surprises when the odds are in favor of not being in my favor. This carries cross-platform from physical mail to email as well. I can only hope opening the box leads to something positive but more often than not, it’s bills, debt or the mandatory petition of my time or money from the local municipal courthouse. Sometimes I honestly wish I would receive a random packages from my past filled with tangible remnants my favorite memories. I want a boxfull of VHS tapes of my favorite movies, pictures of my childhood friends, chrome hubcaps from my dyno bicycle. Sometimes I feel like life moves too fast and before I get to savor “the now” it’s already the future which comes with no guarantees. So surprise, whether or not you wanted to open the mailbox, eventually you have to, and that alone is terrifying. Uncertainty with the chaser of no ability to choose I believe is a metaphor for life. You’re put here without asking to be here, you can’t go back, and you’re only option is to go forward. Everyone has to open the mailbox whether they want to or not.