Showin up and tryin hard
is what I came to do

But it turns out this aint the place
for loyalty and truth

You said you wouldn't tell me
what it is in me you like

I do not know what I'd do with that
but I guess it's not my right to have

I wish people were a little less afraid
even if that makes them a little more rude

fear aint somethin we explain
it's something we excuse

now if you're sittin, hearin this
thinking what he says is true

don't overlook the next one
with value you refuse to see.

It's tragic, its great, it always makes me cry
the kind of insight there to find
in people you may cast aside

it's easy to dehumanize
it make life simpler, too.
but life, I think, will prove you wrong
are you ready for it to?

i wish you wrote songs about me

so i could see the way i seem

i tried writing songs about me

its not the same

ask me again in a couple more years

if i still see things this way

the bottom line, ill say to you

its the same, but not the same

some more bullshit advice.

find something you love that you're good at, do it. That way, you won't starve.
find something you love that you're bad at. do it. That way, you'll stay humble.
find someone you love that you trust. That way, you gain safety.
find someone you love that you are afraid of. That way, you gain wonder.

She tried to fuck me because she thought I was gay.
Turns out, I wasn't attracted to her, so I guess that didn't help clear things up.
I'm better at convincing people I've barely met to travel thousands of miles to be with me for a week,
than I am at being worth it for more than a couple of months.
I want to relate to people without changing for them.
Performance is dangerous. "I am important", the performer cries, simply by standing in front of you.
This cannot be subverted. I sure as hell haven't, anyway.
 I'm just a lie, a paradox. I want you to know that. I crave nullification, more than I want to feel good.
Maybe nullification feels good. Maybe I shouldn't have drank that much that night we talked.
Maybe if I pour all of myself into building a playlist of movies, music, books, and other amalgamations of other peoples' passion that I identify with, I can just give that to everyone I meet and slowly form this supergroup of likeminded people. Is it fucked up that that seems like my best bet at connecting with people? The more you know, the more you are aware of the vastness of what you don't know.
The more you know, the harder it is to find the right words.
The more you know, the more grating bullshit platitudes feel like... so I guess I'm sorry.
The opening line was supposed to be a kind of palate cleanser. It really did happen to me, though. I miss her.

I was working graveyards at a gas station once. An eccentric came in, late. Too late for certain kinds of people. I used to write things on the receipts I found there, the copies people didn't want. It's not that I had anything to say, its not that I care all that much about the environment, I just saw all that empty space and... well I felt a desire to fill it, I suppose. The man had things he wanted to tell me. Things that looped around and got really confusing. I don't remember much of what you, I mean he (who am I writing for) said to me, but I, right now, seem fixated on his eyes... what he looked like when he was looking right at me. I would talk with him, about vaguely political things I think... as I spoke, he would write down individual words I used on those receipts  then hold up a hand, silencing me. Then he held up the word, and deconstructed. He would say the word, focus on how it sounds, words it sounds like, words that grow out of it. He would draw circles around certain letters, reorganize them, talk about this arcane mechanism he saw when he looked at those squiggly lines. It was like some religion he was making up as he went along, and he seemed... happy. I resented him, I pitied him, I envied him. I resented him, I pitied him, I envied him. I... hmm.

There was another man, another eccentric. He worked at the local sign shop. His van was covered in decals. WAKE UP, it said. 9/11 was an inside job, et cetera. We were friends, of a sort; I think he was one of the only people who heard what I had to say with nothing to lose, perhaps I was one of the only people who listened to him, asked him how he was doing, asked him questions about what he said, etc. It wasn't pity, charity, or anything like that. I NEEDED HIM. I guess, I figured if I could be there for him, I could still keep faith that someone would see something in me. He entered my empty gas station one night with a baseball hat covered in tinfoil on his head. He explained to me that he was playing a joke on everyone who thought he was crazy. He told me that I was the only one who got it. Other people who saw him, I guess, just saw a metallic cherry on top of an absurd, hopeless sundae. That was the night you, um, "he" told me that I was your only friend. Hearing that scared the fucking daylights out of me. Knowing I meant that much to him made me feel violated. What does that mean? Looking back on it, my connection to him feels warm, valuable, nice. Yet, I don't talk with him anymore. I don't seek him out. Is it a conceit that I enjoy him from a distance? Maybe...

I think I found a good place once.

How do you write about a horizon?
if writing is moving, then horizons are impossible.

are horizons like authenticity?

is self awareness a barrier
between me and you?

is self-awareness a barrier between me and... me?

I'm thankful for reflection, though not reflection.
If it wasn't for the mirrors in windows, would I ever see you?

when it's through reflection, I'm not distracted by
you seeing me.

It seems easier that way.

You never know which moments
will remain in your memory

But I think there's a pattern
In just what you mean to me

being able to forget is,
is
is,
is,
is.
.
.
.





what was I talking about?

I drink for the hangover
I don't know why
maybe something about the lucidity
feels better than the high

My best days could be behind me
or they might be ahead
I guess in a way, it's every day
I spend more alive than dead

oh To be a man of god, to be a man of god
I want to take comfort in the feeling that you get
from faith that nothing is wrong,
nothing is wrong, nothing is wrong
just read the book and say your prayers
and all your worries will be gone.
and even in a crisis of faith, a moment of doubt
it always comes back to hope that everything will work out.

 So sure, you'd jump off a bridge for me
but would you, show up consistently
until its, proven by what you do,
that you'll be, there for me when I need you

 At the show, at the bar, at the party
with the alcohol and the novelty
it sure felt good to sit and chat with you
will you be there for me when I need you?

 I'm not entitled to some of your time
I'm not entitled to stand here and whine
I'm not entitled to anything at all
and I'll still stand here wishing you would call

Something I wish I could say to people when I first meet them who end up leaving without explaining why:

"Hello. My name is Jesse. You are probably going to feel overwhelmed as a result of something I say or do. I want to apologise in advance for that. I have one favour to ask you. When you decide to leave, be it due to exhaustion, fear, discomfort, a desire for safety, or simply lack of interest, would you be willing to someday tell me why? Not the nice why, not the why we have been trained to say and hear and handle, but the dark, disgusting, soul-crushing truth that sometimes people simply decide to end a connection? Of course it breaks my heart when this happens, but that is what my heart does. it breaks. it breaks at the silliest times, it breaks so easily. I am tender and brash, I cannot take what I give. Please, please, please be honest with me. And when you aren't, please be honest afterwards, someday."

what if someone expressed the frustration at not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration of not being able to express the frustration as well as that person did?

I think I took a picture of someone once
I think I made someone smile once
She said, you made me look good,
honey, I didn't do anything
except press a button.

I think I made someone smile once
I think I was dancing.
I looked over at you,
honey, I didn't do anything
except what felt nice.

I think I used to be better at this
but I don't remember so well
I think I used to be better at this
but I don't remember so, well
I guess I'll just get drunk and maybe
forget that I've been through hell

she asked me to meditate
so we sat down at night, by the lake
it felt like falling asleep, I guess
strangely enough, she got up and left

im sorry my hands shook that night
im sorry most of the time it doesn't feel right
but thank you I guess, and I don't know why
but thank god you gave me one more good time

show don't tell. show don't tell. never have words stung harder than "show don't tell".

have you ever wondered whether or not you want to be loved?
have you ever wondered whether or not you want to be loved unconditionally?

what if you want to be liked this, much, not that much, at this time, not that time, in this way, not that way
what if you want exactly what you predict, with exactly the right kind of surprises mixed in?

if commitment makes you uneasy, seeing a man in front of you
who feels committed, or willing to commit,
wouldn't that disgust you?
I don't know. There are things I need to learn, perhaps things I fear
things I fear will change me once I accept them.

memory is not an easy thing to have sometimes... I don`t know how to say this properly. I think for me loneliness comes from caring a lot about people. Maybe in an unhealthy way? But I can't help it, so I let it in. I can understand the desire to see life as about feeling. Why can't I do that? I feel helpless. What is helplessness in this case? I have these ideals, and they dictate what I do... don't they? Would I be less helpless if I became contrary? if I started randomly doing the opposite of the ought just to prove I am alive? is it as simple "as find a thing to believe in"? What is emotional stability? Maybe it's like swimming instead of drowning. Do things matter to other people as much as they do to me? Different things as well as different amounts, perhaps. How do you measure? Actions? bah! I wish. I met a dark one, darker than me. She made me less afraid of the dark I find when I'm by myself. I should thank her before she dies.

I woke up with a song in my head this morning that I wrote in my sleep. this hasn't happened in ages, lets hope its a good sign.

wanting comes with hurting,
but don't resent the wanting.

risking risks you losing,
risks a loss of what you risked.

what is the alternative?
to hate what you have without having something better in mind

is that somewhere a person can live for long?

hope is the idea that the living should live.
I am alive, therefore I will live in whatever direction I can...

perhaps you.

"The "Night Blind Spot" appears under conditions of low ambient illumination due to the absence of rods in the fovea, and involves an area 5 to 10 degrees wide in the centre of the visual field. Therefore, if an object is viewed directly at night, it may go undetected or it may fade away after initial detection due to the night blind spot."

Browsing online, I found out that this is a real thing. I have experienced this; at nighttime I will cock my head to one side when I want to look at something, because I cannot see it if I look directly at it. Is this a good metaphor? I often feel like sometimes there are things that are harder to understand when you think about them directly. Hmm, what exactly do I mean when I say directly?

Mental issues often feel like this. You know the ones. If I ask you not to think of a pink elephant, you are more likely to think of one than if I just say nothing at all. What does this mean? Does it mean that some problems cannot be solved by mentally focusing on them? Does it furthermore mean that some problems are exacerbated by being focused upon? 

When I speak with people, I often repeat problems or mental trends I have been pondering. Its funny, sometimes my friends talk with each other and realize I have been bouncing the same idea off of each of them. It's nice to ask the same question of different people to see how they respond, to see perhaps a new way of looking at something. So I ask them about this. It sort of shifted into a new statement/question: what if what I have been calling "thinking" has multiple modes?

By this I would semantically mean the difference between a thought and a realization. Think of it like inhaling and exhaling. You can direct your mind somewhere, decide to go to that place. That would be a thought, inhaling. That is definitely a mental space where you can learn something, derive some insight. But what about the other side? What is an exhale? In this case it would be a realization. The feeling you get when you become aware of something not because you force yourself to "work" on it until it is "solved", but knowledge gained from having a mental space that is calm, a source of stillness. That stillness, that "exhale", is a place that, at least for me, has caused me to have realizations, epiphanies. I gain knowledge, I learn something, I become aware. 

What is the value of working for knowledge through thought, versus realization through stillness, calm, relaxed reflection? My mind likes the idea of "balance" as an abstract concept, so the first thing that comes to mind when I see two modes that appear to form different "sides" of something, I just implicitly feel like both are valuable and therefore I should appreciate the value of both. Are people generally oriented towards either ease of realization, or ease of thought? Do we crave one when we spend to much time on the other? Is there a natural balance we implicitly crave? 

I don't know. 

It feels good to know you're trying
when it doesn't feel right, well fuck
But at least you're trying
focus on that, maaaan...

It's important to make new memories
Cause the old ones dry out
Keep making new ones so nostalgia doesn't
wear you right out

I felt that way
now I do not
where it came from
no, I do not

It's time, its the time
It's the time to go right to it
give yourself something new to think about
give someone else something to think about

Things don't happen unless you try
when it feels too good, it will be
enough to make you scream,
scream, "thank FUCK I tried!"

Hold it up
don't hold it up
take your time
take some of mine
take me out
it's about time
do you ever wonder
do you ever wonder
do you ever wonder

If I understood love, I dont think I could enjoy it properly.

Care about things
Care about things
you know you got to
Care about things

Care about people
Care about people
you know you got to
Care about people

Care about living
Care about living
you know you got to
Care about living

Sometimes it's hard
it's hard sometimes
Sometimes it's hard
it's hard sometimes

but don't give up
just keep on trying
and don't ask why
unless you like lying

around in your heard
all over your brain
just make things feel good
and avoid all the pain

you know, bad things feel bad
you know, good things feel good
you know what you must do
you must run from the should

This song is a lie
but at least it's trying
I'm looking, I'm blind,
I'm seeking; not finding

please don't give up
please keep on trying
I love you, you know
Unless I am lying

A lie is a truth
that you want to be true
I love you, you know
I don't care if that's true
I want it, it's you.

I just sat and watched you dance through it
you know I couldn't look away
I never knew, what you could dance through,
And I was better off that way.

It's easy to tell you 'I'm glad that I know'
But it's easier still before I find out

This won't evoke it
It's not even close
This won't evoke it
It's not even close
Until I provoke it
This won't evoke it
Not since I broke it
It's not even close.

If I'm mad when I see you dance it away
I'm just jealous, I'm Just Jealous
If I'm jealous, You know I'm Just Jealous
Part of me wants to dance it away.

Today I don't know if people are born knowing how to be human.
Today that is not something I will assume.

I found an old one from when I was travelling. Here it is:

"
What is a memory? What does it mean? I can think of few gifts as reliable, few gifts as valuable, and few gifts as fickle as a fond memory. If the sum total of our real-life experiences truly do amount to more bad than good, more suffering than joy, it is the profound capacity of the human mind to reminisce and dream which balances the scales. It is in nostalgia for the past and curious awe for the future that we find salvation from reality, meaning from chaos, and soul from the mind.
"