This Morning

The alarm goes off buzzing in the back ground.

I said "It's 7:30..."

She replied "what?"

I said with a smile "It's 7:30, do you know where your children are?"

she laughed and said "Oh Matt stop talking."

The Elusive Escape from a Dreamed Place

The normal routine sets in. Your eyelids are heavy, but you don't want to go to bed just yet. There is still plenty of night left and you don't want to miss anything. You fight it for a few more minutes before finally giving in to the sandman's stranglehold over your eyelids.

You get up from the couch, brush your teeth, undress and pull back the covers to a vast sub-arctic space you call your bed. Your body trembles the moment you touch it and you yank the covers quickly over your head to protect yourself from what could be lingering outside.

As a child you played a simple game with yourself to help fall asleep. You'd imagine a burglar, or someone, trying to break into your house through your bedroom window. You would hide under your covers for protection knowing there's know way he could harm you; as long as your body was hidden underneath the warmth of a comforter and a few sheets. You would frighten yourself for a few moments believing that someone may actually be there and the faster you fall asleep, the faster he would disappear.

You are not quite sure how it happens. It seems that everything that happened a few moments before falling asleep is forgotten. Thrust into a world governed by your imagination, yet you have no control over anything. It seems your actions have already been dictated for you like some sort of play directed by Shakespear himself. And the colors, scientists say we only dream in black and white, but you and I know otherwise. Maybe they are right and we associate the colors with our feelings. Red meaning anger, green being jelousy and so on. It seems so real. You can feel it, touch it, taste it, smell it, all of your senses are hightened.

There are times you fly like Superman through the cloudes and into the stars peering down on the global earth that we have seen so many times in the movies. Other times we are falling, screeming not knowing where we are, or why we are falling, or when we will finally hit the ground, and just before we do we are awoken. Either but some strange sound or by our own minds fear of death in our dreamed place.

Dreams of Hitler's secret weapons falling down around your house. A house on the outside appears to be a normal 3 story 6 bedroom home. On the inside there are no walls. Just the skeletons of where the walls should be. You are curious about where the walls are, the privacy, and then you hear your father tell you that the reason. Being built this way is so we each can have our own space and yet still be together as one.

Then you finally awake and its all over, knowing "it was just a dream". But your heart races, there's sweat on your brow and you can barely speak but a whisper. You don't want to leave the comforts and warmth of your bed so you turn on to your side and try to fall asleep. Your mind has already forgotten what happend, but your emotions have not. As you fall asleep you are thrust into the very dream that had awoken you suddenly.

Where is the exit? How do I leave? Where do I find the elusive escape from this dreamed place?

Pitter-Patter

When I see your smiling face I am whisked away,
Taken to a special place.
Upon arrival my heart begins to race.
"Am I shielded from this fray?"
(pitter-patter, pitter-patter) and I'll ask you if I may...
Only if my heart can keep this pace.
"Lord lead me with your grace."
"...be with you just one more day?"

Into the Twilight

Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the gray twilight;
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.

Thy mother Eire is always young,
Dew ever shining and twilight gray,
Though hope fall from thee or love decay
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.

Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill,
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of hollow wood and the hilly wood
And the changing moon work out their will.

And God stands winding his lonely horn;
And Time and World are ever in flight,
And love is less kind than the gray twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.

-William Butler Yeats

To Tired to Fall Asleep

A slight fog-like state obstructs my vision. "Hello" by Lionel Riche pours into the room as the ambient sound. "Clickty-clackity" my fingers race across the keyboard typing these words as they fall in and out of my mind.

What is that?

A slight popcorn smell in the air. A neighbor maybe? Popping popcorn at 10:30 in the evening? It's very possible. I wonder which movie they are watching? I imagine the couple cuddled up with one another in the typical spoon position laughing with a classical comedy such as Wayne's World. Or better yet, any of the Austin Powers movies.

Oh so tired.

Another great song is played from my randomized play list.

"I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you. I never dreamed that I knew somebody like you. Oh I want to fall in love. Oh I want to fall in love. With you."

Interrupted by texts from a dear friend Chris. Telling me he also has the text messaging capabilities with his cell phone that that we can send naked pics back and forth now. Now, as inviting as that sounds, the thought of Chris naked is a bit disturbing. Mainly because he is a dude and I'm a dude and I'd rather look at nekkid chicks. He is just kidding though. Or so I hope. FAG! I gave him my blog address so he knows I'm talking about him. I am so getting hate mail in the morning.

How uninteresting. Tomorrow I should have finished my sonnet I've been working on for the past two nights. Lets hope I get some inspiration. Until then...

HASTA!

Karaoke Machine

Sunday night Karaoke.

I love singing. I'm just not very good at it.

Songs sang:
Cats in the Cradle (Ugly Kid Joe)
You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin'
Hero (Chad Kroeger)

Songs in queue at time of departure:
Penny Lover
All Night Long

It rained today. A cleansing, refreshing rain. Not that it doesn't rain often here in Portland, but it was good. The city needed this. I needed it. I walked in it like when we were kids, jumped and splashed with no concept of time. Being careful not to drench my pants as my break time was coming to an end.

I wished on a shooting start two weeks ago. Does that even work? As the song goes, maybe I "wished on someone elses star"? It's hard to tell at this point but, life has its paths, mine is just very steep and I am slipping. Will anyone lend a hand?

Starting over again...

Back in the blog scene again.

I feel like a terrible actor who just doesn't get the hint after numerious failed attempts as an extra in local soap operas.

Speaking of, I'm going to keep this post short and sweet and end it on an outgoing message sent from me to the professor.

Here goes:

"No. In love. In devotion. In everyway a man can feel for a woman! And yet I sit. Here in a straight jacket waiting for her love to unlock the key and set my arms abound for her! To hold her, touch her... I am trapped."