As I brooded at the pub over a few too many beers, I decided to write down what I could never bring myself to say out loud. Maybe by writing it down I can finally let you go...

   “On random notes of parchment, I'm scrawling my existence....”

   I can still remember the day too well, still see the dark hanging clouds and feel the moist humid sweat upon the palms of my hands. It was a cold and miserable day, the day I realized I'd lost you.

   Will you ever know how much your bright smile shone upon my life and provided me with the strength to carry on. I never told you how much you meant to me, or how your light has helped to carry me through the dark times of my life Even though times passed when you were so close I had but to reach out my hand and touch you, I was too afraid. Afraid that, like a delicate bird, you might be frightened and fly away, never again to grace me with your beautiful presence.

   Instead, I watched and waited, content to take in your beauty from a distance, unadulterated by my own glaring shortcomings. Like a fool, I thought you would always be there, that somehow you would not succumb to the same wind which blew me away from that place, that someday I would find my way back to you, and you would still be there when I returned. There were times when I found myself so deep underground I could no longer feel the sun, it was then that your radiance lead me forward and I pressed on. When I found myself swimming among the turbulent waves of the endless ocean though my legs went numb with weariness and the taste of salty water burned in the back of my thought, your image burned brightly before me, my shining star, my guiding light when all the other stars in the heaven had been consumed by darkness.

   Still, it wasn't until that cold cloudy day, which found me far away from your presence, that I realized the true nature of things. In all my travels, I sought to find a way to raise myself up to the pedestal on which I'd placed you. Never thinking that you might be on a journey of your own, which would inevitably lead you further from me. Your image began to haunt my dreams, waking me in a cold sweat with memories of an embrace which I had never felt. These dreams began to eat away at my mind, as sleepless night followed sleepless night.

   Yet, somehow I found the courage to seek you out and find your number. You were just a phone call away, and as I began to slip coins into the badly abused and weathered phone, I began to wonder. What could I possibly say to reconcile everything you had meant to me? With one coin left to drop, I was hit with the true nature of what I felt for you. It was not real love that I felt, warm and filling, but a fake plastic love, unrealistic and fabricated by years of imaginary hopes and dreams. There was no way I could ever truly love you, not the person I had lifted up to a position unattainable by any mortal in this cursed life.

   No, the truth was I had already lost you long ago, and nothing I did now could ever change that. I had waited too long, by now you had moved on to another place. Only when you felt cold and alone at night, it wouldn't be me you think of.

   Violently shaking, not from the cold but from your loss, the final coin fell to the ground, the sound echoing across the emptiness of my shattered heart. It was the last piece that I had foolishly hoped would bridge an uncrossable divide. Though I shuddered, no tears would come. I had lost you long ago, I was just too blinded by my own dreams to realize it.

   Only as I write these words of warning to those who may be young and more innocent, do the tears finally begin to fall. I lost you the day I had decided to enshrine you behind glass, motionless, untouchable, unreachable, unattainable, forever sealed away.

   So, as I continue on my journey dark and brooding, forever continuing onwards without you, I breath your name one last time as I watch your image fade. Farewell and goodbye, my fake plastic love.

   “...Am I destined only to die, the same way that I lived; in seclusion?” - The Ataris

   *wipes the dust off the screen*

   It's been a while and I find myself in the midst of fighting my two greatest enemies. The first is that muddling haze which seems to descend upon my mind and keep me from thinking clearly. Seriously, I've found it hard to even get anything done, even at work. I would stare at the computer screen wondering what the hell I was supposed to be doing and begin to contemplate my usefulness as a member of the human race.

   The second is an illness all too familiar to those of my generation. At work I recently had to sit through an entire presentation on the differences between “Generation i”, the tech-savvy generation, and the hard working, dirt in nails, “Baby Boomer” generation. After I watched the presentation I felt like I owed it to the first person I saw over 40 to apologize for destroying what's left of the planet after global warming runs its course. But I diverge, that most familiar of maladies is just plain laziness. The problem I have with performing a task, let's dub it Task A, is that I just can't bring myself to actually do “Task A” without a good reason to do Task A. So this leads to me sitting down for a while to ponder why I need to bring myself to do Task A in the first place, all the while becoming more confused and lost within the labyrinth of my own thoughts.

   Tonight I decided to renew my war on sleep. Recently it's been brought to my attention that I have been sleeping way too much. I'm also finding that the more sleep I get, the more sleep I need. That's why I've decided to pick up the cause I let die after I graduated college and stay up to greet the AM with a droopy-eyed yawn. More than ever I find myself giving into laziness and sloth. At times it feels as if there is a heavy black cloud of energy which swirls about my psyche. Perhaps a form of motivational inertia?

   Participating in the midterm elections really helped me recharge my batteries a little. It wasn't just the warm fuzzy for feeling like I've done my civic duty, it was also the idea that I am a part of something, even if my part is ever so small. For a while, I felt as if I was spinning my wheels in mud. The harder a tried to get out, the more I regressed and the deeper the problem became  I needed traction, something which seemed like progress, even if it wasn't really in pursuit of any broad or heroic end goal.

   I've never been a big fan of pragmatism. Breaking life down and sectioning it off via a secularist attitude is alien to an empathetic, aesthetic, spiritualist. Just look at the artist line-up I've been listening too lately: Muse, Crash Test Dummies, and Radiohead. I think the answer for now is in taking things a small step of a time. Restart my original plan to jog in the morning. Dust off the blog and maybe make a few entries. Figure out what's going on with my finances and who I owe or owes me money. But mostly, remember that life is not about milestones and trophies (nice as they may be), it is about living.

The sun sets, leaving a sea of red outside my apartment.

   Mid-term elections are approaching. It is that curious time when around one-third of the population (if we're diligent) takes time out of their day to vote. With the prospect of a DFL controlled congress, both sides have been pumping funds into the mid-term election campaigns. In my apartment, the television is on for no more than an hour a day (enough to catch “That 70's Show” and “The Simpsons”) yet I have seen plenty of smear ads come from both camps.

   As one of those strange people who believes that voting is not just a right, but a responsibility, I have made an effort to gather information on as many candidates as I can (it gets hard when you get to some of the lesser known local offices). Hence, when I see these smear ads I often laugh at the tactics used by the various candidates. I've seen both sides accuse the other side of “planning to raise taxes” or take some other statement and twist it out of context. I won't get into the messy details, but I'll suffice to say that it provides Coda and I with a good deal of entertainment. Coda is one of those home raised Republican voters. He states that he does vote based on the individual candidates, “but only during the [Republican] primaries.”

   My hope is that, if you are voting, you will at least take a quick look at the candidates before you cast your ballot (if you have access to the Internet, which I'll assume is the case, you probably have access to more information than you need).

   With that said, here are some entertaining Daily Show links:

   Winter has hit the north-lands, and though I may be loosing feeling in my finger-tips, I at least have the satisfaction of knowing that my computer is running at a more efficient rate. At least I got to say goodbye to the few weeks of good weather with an Oktoberfest celebration. I originally invited Hops, Amare, and Bika, but in the end only Amare was able to make it. Friday we explored the bluffs of Quarry Hill, a local wildlife refuge. The weather was perfect and we managed to find some trails which lead to an excellent view of the city.

A crunchy trail of leaves.

A small lake shimmering in the sun.

A good view of the prison hospital next door.

The Rochester skyline, this shot was Amare's idea.

   On Saturday we made the long drive to Lanesboro, MN. One of those historical towns, which still retains a lot of it's old German and Norwegian architecture and heritage. The small town was pretty packed for Oktoberfest, so Amare rented a bike and we hit the local bike trail.

The weather was cool and the wind continually blew leaves across the path.

A lone tree sheds its leaves in a small Minnesota town.

Amare poses next to his bike and in front of the Root river.

   We rode the trails of Lanesboro until I thought my legs were just about ready to fall off. Our original plan was to try to hit up one of the local German restaurant , but we quickly discovered that they were all pretty packed with people. At this point we were beginning to feel the stiffness in our legs, so we decided to bail and just go to my favorite pub back in Rochester. At least we tried...

Coda decided to opt out of the weekend activities and stay in the apartment with his computer.

   That night we retired to the apartment and watched two of Mel Brooks best movies: Young Frankenstein and Blazing Saddles. We also picked up one of my favorite marital arts spoofs: Kung Fu Hustle. All in all it was a good way to tip my hat to my favorite season of the year. As short as it might be this far north of the equator.