This one's for you.
You know who you are.
The selfish, they're all standing in line
Faithing and hoping to buy themselves time
Me, I figure, as each breath goes by
I only know my mind
North is to South what the clock is to time
There's East and there's West and there's everywhere life
I know I was born and I know that I'll die
The in-between is mine
I am mine
And the feeling, it gets left behind
All the innocence, lost at one time
Significant, behind the eyes
There's no need to hide
We're safe tonight
The ocean is full 'cause everyone's cryin'
The Full Moon is looking for friends at high tide
The sorrow grows bigger when the sorrow's denied
I only know my mind
I am mine
And the meaning, it gets left behind
All the innocents lost at one time
Significant, behind the eyes
There's no need to hid
We're safe tonight
And the feelings that get left behind
All the innocence broken with lies
Significance, between the lines
We may need to hide
And the meanings that get left behind
All the innocents lost at one time
We're all different behind the eyes
There's no need to hide
We're safe tonight.
thank you, e.v.
28 November 2007
11 November 2007
Sous-marin
I have nothing worth writing.
Tons of ideas, plenty of drafts.
Nothing completed nor worth sharing.
I'm lost. And going dark.
What does any of this mean?
Why do I do what I do?
Where is this coming to?
Nothing.
Don't like this.
Bad scene.
Limp.
Going under for a little while.
Let you know when I surface.
Tons of ideas, plenty of drafts.
Nothing completed nor worth sharing.
I'm lost. And going dark.
What does any of this mean?
Why do I do what I do?
Where is this coming to?
Nothing.
Don't like this.
Bad scene.
Limp.
Going under for a little while.
Let you know when I surface.
07 November 2007
About Time
When I make it big...
I don't imagine there will be a deluge of congratulations. There will be some hugs, a couple phone calls. The website will take a few more hits, and perhaps people will write more comments.
E-mail. Yay.
Maybe some more people will acknowledge me in the streets. More guys will posture nervously and more girls will bat me an eye when I walk by. My family and friends will be glassy-eyed, faces stuck in a smile.
I will get sick of the phrase,
"I am so proud of you!"
This will happen. But it's not that much. It's just Step 2 to my Step 1.
This, I imagine, will happen more.
There will be an immediate line of people, single-file. Each of them wear angry faces, sharpened eyebrows and upturned lips. One-by-one they step up to meet me.
A slap on the back.
Another slap on the back.
Hands smacking my back. A couple land on my head. My shoulders. Chest. Cheek. Someone punches. Hands grasp and grab. Throttle me. Choke. A slam to the gut. Fist in my balls.
Some heel strikes the back of my knee and I go down. And then the kicking. Base of the spine. Foot up my ass. Knocking the wind out of me. Their endless faces seething, fright wigs of disbelief.
I'll never stop hearing the phrase,
"It's about damn time!"
This won't happen. But I'll feel it. It's what keeps me from taking that step.
I don't imagine there will be a deluge of congratulations. There will be some hugs, a couple phone calls. The website will take a few more hits, and perhaps people will write more comments.
E-mail. Yay.
Maybe some more people will acknowledge me in the streets. More guys will posture nervously and more girls will bat me an eye when I walk by. My family and friends will be glassy-eyed, faces stuck in a smile.
I will get sick of the phrase,
"I am so proud of you!"
This will happen. But it's not that much. It's just Step 2 to my Step 1.
This, I imagine, will happen more.
There will be an immediate line of people, single-file. Each of them wear angry faces, sharpened eyebrows and upturned lips. One-by-one they step up to meet me.
A slap on the back.
Another slap on the back.
Hands smacking my back. A couple land on my head. My shoulders. Chest. Cheek. Someone punches. Hands grasp and grab. Throttle me. Choke. A slam to the gut. Fist in my balls.
Some heel strikes the back of my knee and I go down. And then the kicking. Base of the spine. Foot up my ass. Knocking the wind out of me. Their endless faces seething, fright wigs of disbelief.
I'll never stop hearing the phrase,
"It's about damn time!"
This won't happen. But I'll feel it. It's what keeps me from taking that step.
28 October 2007
Got Nothin' Today
Got another IIDDI,WW story all in the works.
Didn't make enough time to get it all out.
See you in a couple days.
Didn't make enough time to get it all out.
See you in a couple days.
25 October 2007
Cosmic Irony?
You be the judge.
The below stories are true.
24/October/2007
11:38 pm
I am sitting on a cold metal bench in an abandoned Police Station on the South Side of Chicago. It is the set of Chicago Overcoat. I am decked out in full cop regalia: Badge, nameplate, regulation blue shirt, utility belt, walkie-talkie, and even a replica 9mm pistol. I look good. It is the first film set I've been on all year and it feels like home. A bunch of us actors and extras sit in the "greenroom" area swapping glory stories of near-misses with celebrities and being spotted by random people. Most everyone is just scratching for screen time but I'm one of the very few who's collecting a paycheck. Craft services is overflowing with snacks, food, fruits and veggies, gum, and there's even a fully catered meal. There's no real name actors on set today, but rumors abound of Sopranos regular Frank Vincent and '50s crooner/Jersey Boy Frankie Valli showing interest and even possibly attached to the script. My group shoots two scenes, both involving a fight between two detectives, its climax a beaten-down water cooler splattering everywhere. The other two cops and me all ham it up in costume and the short cute blonde playing the secretary won't leave my side between takes. Cracking jokes with the casting director, the costume ladies, the lighting crew. Share some stories about actual run-ins with cops and how to talk yourself out of a ticket. We were supposed to be done at 3:00 am but we wrap two hours early, meaning I can actually go home and perhaps catch a nap before I open the store.
25/October/2007
1:43 am
I am sitting on a plastic chair in a waiting room of the Des Plaines Police Station. I am waiting for the cop who pulled me over to tell me if I can leave tonight. I took the Kennedy home and got off at River Road, like I usually do. Was driving down River Road in Des Plaines when I pass two cop cars on the left side of the road. I was driving the limit but one of the cars does a U-turn and begins to follow me. I keep myself at the limit but after a good mile the cop flashes his lights and pulls me over. A nice cop, he cites me for a very loud muffler and after tailing me he notices my licence plates are expired.
ASIDE: My car was purchased with an aftermarket muffler so loud I have had the profoundly Deaf ride in my car telling me, "This car's loud!", but I have driven it in the late, late of night and the wee, wee of morning, and this is the first time any cop has pulled me over for noise.
After asking for my licence and insurance he points out that my Driver's Licence is expired and he can't legally let me drive. I follow him to the station where he says with my compliance we can clear everything up for $75. I have $50 cash on me and no ATM card. Since I haven't been arrested ever, he tries see what he can do for me. The waiting room is locked from the outside. It contains a graffiti-scratched metal table, two busted plastic chairs, yellow-stained walls, trilingual metal signs, and a pay phone. Through the thin rectangular window in the door I can see myself hunched over in a chair, slightly rocking, on the Closed-Circuit monitor in the main office. How long will this take? Who can I call for $25 at this time of night? Will I get to work on time? Will I get out of here tonight? After what feels like a week the cop returns with a ticket for expired plates and expired licence. They say they procured an I-Bond for me. I sign a paper, they let me go. Court date's in December. Cop told me already he ain't showing up. He sees my army jacket and asks if I'm military. After I deny he says he could've cut me a better deal. I tell him I'm starting with the Green Berets tomorrow. I get home an hour before I have to leave for work.
SOOOOO relieved he never asked me to open my ashtray...
The below stories are true.
24/October/2007
11:38 pm
I am sitting on a cold metal bench in an abandoned Police Station on the South Side of Chicago. It is the set of Chicago Overcoat. I am decked out in full cop regalia: Badge, nameplate, regulation blue shirt, utility belt, walkie-talkie, and even a replica 9mm pistol. I look good. It is the first film set I've been on all year and it feels like home. A bunch of us actors and extras sit in the "greenroom" area swapping glory stories of near-misses with celebrities and being spotted by random people. Most everyone is just scratching for screen time but I'm one of the very few who's collecting a paycheck. Craft services is overflowing with snacks, food, fruits and veggies, gum, and there's even a fully catered meal. There's no real name actors on set today, but rumors abound of Sopranos regular Frank Vincent and '50s crooner/Jersey Boy Frankie Valli showing interest and even possibly attached to the script. My group shoots two scenes, both involving a fight between two detectives, its climax a beaten-down water cooler splattering everywhere. The other two cops and me all ham it up in costume and the short cute blonde playing the secretary won't leave my side between takes. Cracking jokes with the casting director, the costume ladies, the lighting crew. Share some stories about actual run-ins with cops and how to talk yourself out of a ticket. We were supposed to be done at 3:00 am but we wrap two hours early, meaning I can actually go home and perhaps catch a nap before I open the store.
25/October/2007
1:43 am
I am sitting on a plastic chair in a waiting room of the Des Plaines Police Station. I am waiting for the cop who pulled me over to tell me if I can leave tonight. I took the Kennedy home and got off at River Road, like I usually do. Was driving down River Road in Des Plaines when I pass two cop cars on the left side of the road. I was driving the limit but one of the cars does a U-turn and begins to follow me. I keep myself at the limit but after a good mile the cop flashes his lights and pulls me over. A nice cop, he cites me for a very loud muffler and after tailing me he notices my licence plates are expired.
ASIDE: My car was purchased with an aftermarket muffler so loud I have had the profoundly Deaf ride in my car telling me, "This car's loud!", but I have driven it in the late, late of night and the wee, wee of morning, and this is the first time any cop has pulled me over for noise.
After asking for my licence and insurance he points out that my Driver's Licence is expired and he can't legally let me drive. I follow him to the station where he says with my compliance we can clear everything up for $75. I have $50 cash on me and no ATM card. Since I haven't been arrested ever, he tries see what he can do for me. The waiting room is locked from the outside. It contains a graffiti-scratched metal table, two busted plastic chairs, yellow-stained walls, trilingual metal signs, and a pay phone. Through the thin rectangular window in the door I can see myself hunched over in a chair, slightly rocking, on the Closed-Circuit monitor in the main office. How long will this take? Who can I call for $25 at this time of night? Will I get to work on time? Will I get out of here tonight? After what feels like a week the cop returns with a ticket for expired plates and expired licence. They say they procured an I-Bond for me. I sign a paper, they let me go. Court date's in December. Cop told me already he ain't showing up. He sees my army jacket and asks if I'm military. After I deny he says he could've cut me a better deal. I tell him I'm starting with the Green Berets tomorrow. I get home an hour before I have to leave for work.
SOOOOO relieved he never asked me to open my ashtray...
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