Dead Goldfish

What I’m watching/watched: Photography basics, Suits season 1, The Lobster, Vice abduction BDSM, etc.
What makes a show “good?”


Theres this feeling of freedom that comes with “going out” at the end of the week. It’s relief and another realm of life, apart from the one we adhere to Monday through mid Friday. I love the glowing lights in dark cars on long stretches of roads and music drowning out all before and everything after. All that matters is now. You can feel, taste, touch, and live the memory. The beeping, the buzzing, the temperature, the air, everything. 50 years from now you may or may not remember this exact Saturday but you were there. 
There’s something about strangers that keeps my soul burning. It’s the ability to exchange what living life at angles other than your own I find so intriguing. For this brief moment they invite you into their world to have a look, and that’s what I’m addicted to. The polar opposite of that is something I am also in love with, the familiarity of more than a friend. The dependability and emotional investment they are open to and allow. But…
i forgot what being a man was about 
So i figured i’d let society and women remind me 
Why cant we love another person just for being another person
The things i do in the dark not with her, 

The things she did in the dark not with me,

And what we do when no one is looking.

I have a self-diagnosed case of the day dad stopped looking like a super hero dilemma again
It’s full blown
I’m at this awkward unsolved stage in life
Am I leaving too early or staying too long 
Because all you want is a hug when you’re too high

I’m starting to see the importance of social bonds and how hard it can be to do everything yourself. Or be surrounded by people who dont understand. It’s misery that loves company but people just love company in general. Are we innately miserable?

I want to be free more than i want to be a god. 


Summer sunsets at 7:45pm

Burn in hell
An end to your human experience is inevitable, but how you go and where you go is still up for debate. Does pain and pleasure really get triggered by the same censors? I’m not trying to raise hell like some cenobite but why does each extreme feel so extraordinary on opposing ends of the spectrum? A cut, an orgasm, a death, a birth. 
Burn in hell
Are you afraid of what you cannot see and don’t know? I’ve been human for so long, almost all my life. I’ve been plagued with affinities and tendencies which another human will gladly justify my obsession and aid in my quest for the indulgence of these pleasures. Decadence. But lately the pendulum stopped swinging and is stuck. It’s stuck on pain and everything hurts. How can I explain this? Have you ever processed what it really means for something to be over? 
Burn in hell
The “wrath of god” is an amazing phrase. It takes the idea of this super being inflicting immense physical pain typically through the use of a medium. The idea of physical pain is enough to scare the simple. Pain is something we understand since we’re young. You do wrong, pow pow time, see? Simple. Now take that simple mind and tell them it’s infinite pow pow time (please explain what infinite means to the child so they can grasp what’s going on). You see how you mitigated the inherent evil just by extending the punishment indefinitely. B-R-I-L-L-I-A-N-T! 
Burn in hell
I came back from hell to tell you that there are no fires, no torture chambers, no bodies of blood, horrible screams or anything of the like. There’s just silence. The silence slips over your entire body and engulfs your soul in a sense of dread unlike anything you’ve felt on earth. You begin to feel yourself cry for no reason at all, but no one hears you, it’s dark and you can’t even hear yourself. You begin to panic. Where is everyone and everything that you’ve grown to love. The memories you made on earth are gone and you’re unsure of who you are. You feel your hands in front of you, your pupils dilate to catch any light to reassure that these are indeed your hands, but blackness is the only sight that registers. You feel desperation flip to fear and fear to agony all in what seems to be mere seconds. You begin to cry again. All you’re wishing for now is to hear the sound of your own voice but the heavy silence snuffs out any audible escape from within. You’re going to be here awhile. To burn is to actually feel, and wishes aren’t granted in hell. To burn for an eternity would be a pleasure in comparison. 

No Anchors

I feel like sometimes life is full of tentacles and these tentacles are commitments that we attach ourselves to over time and throughout our lives. These attachments have the capability to weigh us down eventually. That’s every promise inked in blood, deeper and deeper into the mud you go. That’s not to say that all commitment is terrible, and in fact, some build character and define us. But in the same breath I don’t want to be defined by the things I own on the outside, I want to be defined by everything I hold on the inside. It’s this beautiful gift called memories that really allow me to float when things feel too heavy. Even if I don’t have you, I had you. That’s what really matters. In life you’re supposed to get things right the first time, but more than likely the first time we won’t get things right. Maybe that’s where the idea of G*d comes in. In the mistakes and inherit nature of being human and how mistakes mean death for those we feel lesser than us, even sometimes those that look just like us. G*d can be many things to many people, but the concept of a higher power filling in the gaps to things we can’t fathom, process, or have answers to…


No time for clothes in the house,

 or anymore monday mornings in my life, 

Always alive at so dead an hour

Crypt walking

I’ve got the blues,

My eyes swell, the tears turn to blood, 

Again I realize I’m just a jester looking for a king’s love

These are my primary problems 

In a world where you’re only as good as your last, you’re not the better answer, but the best answer to a question that I wasn’t sure of how to answer

Late PMs, Early AMs,

Conversations in cars,

Sex and Smoke, 

and eyes as bright as the city lights at night

In this car we hold the keys to go everywhere we wish without the need to start an ignition, these conversations take me farther than this car could ever go, eyes closed, mouth open, mind open, hearts continue to race, don’t slow down, from wheels to wings, exhale the smoke and take off, us right here, beyond the reach of all, minds together elsewhere, our time together infinite, this love together infinite
This love won’t hold me over, 

And this love,

This love, our love,

is likened to leftover pizza,

Because you can find anything you want but don’t need in your life 

just like the leftover pizza 
in the fridge at 2am

Cheers to our time together on this planet, the most meaningful and meaningless entity I have ever had the grace to witness


One of the most life altering statements I’ve ever heard in my life came from a childhood friend at a theme park, who I unfortunately have lost contact with.

Place: six flags

Ride: free fall

Person proposing the question: best friend at the time 
HIM: “Why are you standing exactly where it tells you to stand on line for the ride?”
ME: “What?”
HIM: “You’re standing with your feet exactly on the two foot marks while you wait, why?”
ME: I took a look at how he wasn’t standing on the marks but comfortably perched on the gate next to his temporarily assigned spot in line to wait for his turn on the ride. I looked at him, then observed how everyone else in line , including myself, was subconsciously programmed to follow an implied order. My response was a short “oh” but I understood. 

And just like that, it was like a door had opened. 

Why follow rules to the T.

I believe that people in life are binary. You’re either a zero or a one. My theory, however; is better explained by dark(representing the binary number zero and the absence of light), or light(representing the binary number one and overall illumination). In life there are a sea of zeros, all clumped together, behaving alike in darkness. Now scattered in that dark void are little lights with varying brightness. These are the “ones”, they are so few and far between, but for some reason you’re able to spot them because of their illumination juxtaposed against the darkness, creating a great contrast. This is what I believe to be the cause or why, and how, we find the people in life that we cherish the most. This is how I believe I found all of the individuals that matter in my life. I’ve gravitated towards them because of their “light.” 

Please forget me as soon as possible 

The feeling of falling out of love is watching a star die, a million miles away, knowing there’s nothing you can do aside from watch and know that everything related to it has ran it’s course. An easy contender for one of the most miserable feelings ever felt, because every night you would go out and make a wish on it, and the star would wish for your return every night. You went through the trouble of finding the star, searching a pitch black sea for forever, to only one night watch what took forever, disappear forever, without so much as an explanation. As an adult, you’re expected to get over these occurrences and deny ever believing in fairy tales of stars having any kind of relevance or meaningfulness to your existence, so as that star expired, a piece of you dies along with it, and you drag it along daily, weighing you down, hoping no one notices or sees, but they do. Nothing tastes the same, feels the same, and at the thought your eyes begin to glitter and glisten like your love in the sky once was. And everytime you tell yourself to not look for love in the sky, because it is something beautiful yet unattainable, you never listen, becuase a million miles away doesn’t look so far at night. Closer to the stars, closer to your dreams.