memoirsandme's Xanga

transitions...

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 16:53:31 GMT

it's been a while since I've written here, at least anything of note. months have come and gone and this blog has been left by the wayside. it was never my wish to be gone for this long, but it inevitably happened.

over the last 9 months or so, I've been contemplating change. a change in my writing style, in my motivations, in my path--a change in my life. the reality was that I had become complacent and content to simply stand where I was, consistently doing the things that I did, and felt nothing because of it. I hadn't become cold, just indifferent. no theatrics, no drama, no drive...no real strong positive or negative emotions to spur any literary desire or growth.

I realize that the cavity that I had carved out for myself to be comfortable, worked out too well. it was too homey and easy, and that only made me lazy and devoid of any spark. so a number of months ago, I planned on performing a full migration to a fully built personal site to help me consolidate a good portion of my work. I wanted to do something to snap me out of this listless funk, but never really took the initiative to do it.

so here we are, October 2008. I finally put myself in gear and put up my own personal site, which will be the only blog I shall keep from now on. this new site will be used to consolidate all of my work from various sites, over the last 10 years. you'll probably recognize some of my previous work--things that you have read before. but I'm sure that you'll come across pieces of writing that you've never read, as well as photographs I've taken over the years.

you'll notice a number of sections in this new site, and I hope that readers will be able to navigate it without a problem. I'm also incorporating a standard blog, where I can write and babble about nonsensical thoughts and observations; things that won't be in any way connected to the poetry or prose that I tend to write. it will take some time to fully populate this new site, but I hope that you'll take the time to follow along as I grow into this next stage in my life.

I thank those subscribers/readers who have stayed with me all these years, and I will continue to log in to read and comment everyone else's blogs. as for my own my writing, I will be moving on. you can now find me here...

www.solitarystylus.com

remnants

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 03:03:49 GMT

a crisp gust of wind bit into my face, reddening my cheeks and reminding me that winter had suddenly come upon us. tugging my jacket a bit tighter around me, I took the stairs two at a time, then numbingly fumbled through the front door. with the slight chatter of teeth, I stomped my feet and waited for my eyes to adjust to the lightless space inside. kicking off my shoes, I made my way through the emptiness to the waiting hum of machines and sat down.

contemplating the darkness, I flipped the monitor on and checked my email, absently wishing that there was someone else here to turn the lights on for; someone who would warm the house, turn on the stove, and fill the bed beside me. someone who could pepper the walls with noise, their voice echoing off the walls and ceiling, and through the vacant rooms of my heart.

there was a time in my life when I bought into a needful things philosophy, finding ways to cover these floors with furniture and possessions, hiding the grainy lines of age and experience. they have all been beautiful pieces, each one crafted with patience and tempered with fire, then placed with purpose; their significance understood by no one but me. however, for all my vaunted efforts, they would never be enough to fill these spaces--as they sat there empty, hollow and cold.

surrounding myself with people had been my only shelter from the constant solitude. the oft-scattered clatter of shoes, and the whispers of the multitudes kept me company as they passed through these halls, but they never lingered long enough to leave any impressions in the hardwood floors. although they were many, they came and went like drifting phantoms in the night, disappearing at daylight, leaving me emptier than ever before.

I could have easily grown used to you being here--listening for your light padding footsteps as you made your way through the halls. I could have easily loved the way your lilting voice and joyous laughter decorated the house, in ways that no piano, or flute, or tinkle of bells ever could. the dreams of growing used to your warming giggles floated there, just out of reach. they often surfaced during those sunny days spent skipping work, just to watch the sunrise from the shore. I could have really grown used to you, my devilish angel; a kindred spirit I could stay up all night with, pondering the wonders of the world.

isn't this what you've always wanted? to find in someone the right mix of challenge and compromise, a person you would want to win over? someone who could care enough about you to envelope you in a blanket of security, but gave you the strength to unfurl your wings and watch you soar? isn't this what you always wanted--to have someone love you more than you loved yourself?

there are times where I miss you dearly, not knowing what you're doing or where you are. but I can see you so clearly in those moments where I'm not even sure if my mind is coming or going. you laying there, curled up on the bed, encapsulated in a silk shell, feet tucked under you, snuggling away the winter in front of the tv. you were the one for me; with your bright eyes shining, and smile always inviting, swallowing me up whole.

staring out at the blustering winds, I can't help but imagine you being here. turning away from the windows and gazing into the empty darkness, I know now that I can't see you anywhere. those memories of you are spiked with warmth and joy, permeating the very corners of my soul, but then the empty chill floods these caverns and reminds me that you aren't here.

as summer turned to fall, and fall turned to winter, winter will surely turn to spring. I wait with bated breath as a shell of a man waiting for new beginnings. so as the old year passes, I wrap myself in memories of days of future past, embraces long gone, and sensations almost entirely forgotten--ones that didn't last.

-MM

stormy weather

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 14:52:45 GMT

did I tell you about the storm that rolled in last night? it was the clash of thunder and rain; a war that tore apart the intricate silk tapestry of that watercolor canvas. those winds whipped, whisked, and whirled like whips unfurled. they cracked with anger at the ruins of our ethereal painting. dreary was that war, sliding in on two feet and out on all four. with shoulders slumped and head bowed low, my defeated soul trudged slowly like a phantom caught in the snow.

it's been months now as I needled away at the shreds of my sanity. I desperately stitched together the rips, unaware that those tears were filled with your helpless tears. no matter what I tried, they kept growing wider and wider, and I didn't quite understand why. I beat my chest and bellowed into the rain, looking for what had become of us, but only finding pain. I asked you then as I ask you now; did you hear those clouds' plaintive cries?

I finally stopped trying to understand what was happening and just let things be. maybe I should have seen this coming, this thing between you and me. time passed between us, and the temporal rifts set us adrift. this sadness lingers in my chest, and of all people, you know this best. I can't quite explain it, and I still don’t understand why. but I simply get it now, after all this time.

was something there between us, something divine? but now I’m wondering if it was just the wrong moment, just the wrong time? was it a mirage, or merely a dream? do I awake from this storm with all this lightning and rain, to find out that this it, nothing else can be seen? have I woken up and it's all that it seems?

-MM

breathing

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 18:15:36 GMT

oh how I envy the air that surrounds you, the air that you breathe. with each passing moment, you inhale, exhale, then inhale, inviting it in to swirl around inside, caressing you with its delicate lifegiving touch. it enters freely, not knowing you at all, but will know you intimately before leaving, forever changed by you.

in a brief expanse of time, those lingering breaths touch your heart in ways that I can only wish to know. as they circulate around inside, reaching out and touring the intricate pathways to your soul, I can't help but wonder if it understands what it was, what it is, and what it will be.

the envy I feel is not unlike the silent pangs of guilt that racks us all. it's a dull piercing ache, coupled with an untouchable whisk of longing to be with the one we want, but each is unaware of the other. because of that, I'm all at once jealous, and sad, of the next breath you take, for I long to be that next breath, wanting to forever be changed by you.

-MM

what's a good way to cure a broken heart?

Tue, 04 Sep 2007 02:09:45 GMT

lots of remy. I do have some personal preferences when it comes to remy, but when you're only at "this" point of "curing" a broken heart, any kind of remy will do. the more, the better. as long as you're not driving anywhere, anytime soon.

oh, and maybe some irish whiskey, or scotch. single malts, or blendeds, it doesn't really matter. just no damn bourbons. (side note: bourbons are only for happy occasions, when you want something sweet before you get ripped, and go out of control with your partying.)

if you have any questions about specifics, or want to dig around the inside of my skull for various whiskey, scotch, and congac knowledge, feel free.

happy moping!

-MM

I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

never say never

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 23:59:27 GMT

we zipped along on a current of heated actions and reactions. the moments came swiftly, turning and tumbling, making sure that we were alive, as intimacy lit our souls on fire. reckless and unsure of which path to take, we simply rushed along whatever route we were on, when the rope snapped. frustration overtook calm, and panic planted its roots of self-destruction. strength remained with patience, but was quickly waning.

lunging for your outstretched hand, I missed, faintly grazing those delicate fingers, as you continued to drift away from me. you plummeted deeper and deeper into that thick vapor, with me trailing right behind, narrowly out of reach. the mists swirled around us, seeming to wash by with increasing speed. my eyes darted around, trying to find a foothold, a handhold, some sort of perch somewhere, anywhere, to slow us down.

I cried out your name, but heard no response. you turned and gazed at me, eyes rapt with attention, your mouth trying to form words that one always understood, but none came. pursing your lips, you again tried to speak words that died before they were ever given birth. the look in your eyes said it all though, something was amiss. deep down you knew something was wrong and I knew it too. there was no way to really express what you were thinking, except for the faint tinge of sadness edging your eyes.

somewhere along this route, we had gone too far, had crossed the line, and there seemed to be no way of going back. in the silence that enveloped us, your muted tones told me that much had changed. resignation wormed its way into your once serene face, head shaking as if in a soundless scream. plunging any deeper into that hopeless gloom, the murkiest of murks, and all would be lost; you would be lost to me.

diving with fearless recklessness, I grunted and stretched with every last sinew of my being, reaching out for your hand to somehow hang onto the last few tendrils that still bound us to each other. no matter what it took, and no matter how far we fell, I would continue to strive, and we would survive.

Goonies never say die.

-MM

we interrupt this program...

Wed, 08 Aug 2007 12:00:15 GMT

...to bring you this special announcement--something for the public service, but not quite.

it has come to my attention that some would like to read more than slices of my memories, decorously strung together with a bit of twine. the time between each slivered entry gets covered with dust and dew, allowing me to write the differential entries of my life in its stead. there have been numerous times when I thought about seeking out these familiar fragments, larger than flakes, to paint in my fissured face, clearing the cobwebs that litter these darkened domed halls.

as some have requested, I will try interjecting bits and pieces of me, spliced haphazardly with combustible events and wayward thoughts; all between the timeless entries of my story.

----------

rain. tak tak tak... I used to listen to the raindrops falling from the sky, late at night, while lying in my bed alone. the individual drops would tap against my windows, etching out their short-lived existence in a beautiful brilliance only nature could muster. in between the silent drone of languid dreaming and wakefulness, I would catch a glimpse of their paths as they slid through trails of reason and fantasy.

so comfortable they were, knowing that their lives were meant for something greater. they were assuredly valued beyond measure, with fairly simple choices that lay before them--at least that's what we'd like to think. but there is always that stubborn one. the one which continues its search for the meaning behind its existence, zigging and zagging across the pane, determined to create its own footprints in an already chaotic land.

lying in my bed alone, frozen by the thought that with so many possibilities, it might never find what it was looking for, even if it knew where to start. either that, or it would simply splash out--dying and melding back into the pool, never knowing what its true purpose was.

tak tak tak...I try not to listen anymore.

-MM

imperceptible dance

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 14:56:27 GMT

"So that's what the little drummer boy wants to do," she whispered, turning her head slightly and pulling away at the very last possible second.

"Wha? Uh...oh...no," I gulped.

"Well, it's not that...I...uh..." I stammered. A burning sensation rose to the surface of my face. Struggling to free myself from the desert that suddenly appeared inside my throat and quickly made a mute out of me. I swallowed, shifted in my seat, and turned my head to gaze up into the night sky.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I whispered out loud, more to myself than anything else. I needed the space to compose myself. Her closeness made me lose the already tentative grip that I had on my senses, reducing my faculties in a blink of a blurry eye.

Her touch brought me out of the clouds in a languid fashion. Turning and tilting my head in her direction, those two pools of liquid mercury unblinkingly stared right back, stealing my mind from me. Forcing myself to grin, I yanked the remnants of the steely nerve that served me so well to the fore.

"Yeah, quite beautiful," I murmured, at once answering my own question, and forcing the confidence back into my voice.

"Beautiful?" Her smile was serene, barely hinting at the mischief that lay beneath the surface. "If you were talking about me then that's really sweet of you..." she breathed, "but if not, then suppose I should be upset." A look of playfulness creased her lips.

"Well, uh..." I said haltingly, clawing at any vestige of my once unflappable ego. "Yeah, you are..." I said with a half-smile, pausing as thoughts raced through my head. I grimaced inwardly at my faltering steps, unsure of myself, having lost the trust I usually placed in my instincts.

"What did you want to do?" she asked, interrupting my mind in mid-swagger.

"How bout we just take a walk?" I suggested, figuring that a walk might help clear the air.

"I'd like that," she replied, adjusting my sweatshirt tighter around her, and tucking her hands into the sleeves.

Wandering around in the cool darkness, we traversed the main road and aimlessly explored the smaller well-lit streets in the vicinity. With lamps overhead blazing, I could make out her hips shifting from side to side, as she seemed to lightly dance and sway to some unknown music that was imperceptible to me. A quick look from her caught me watching, while she silently floated along the cobblestone street.

"And what was the little drummer boy looking at?" she teased, smiling more for her benefit than for mine.

"You like to dance," I stated, more like an observation than a question.

"I do. I've been dancing since I was quite young, lessons and all that... Do you dance?"

"Oh, me? Dance? I don't know what I do would actually be called dancing," I chuckled.

"So you do dance, but only when no one's watching, huh?" she giggled. "Want to dance?"

"Oh...no, no...I don't really dance," I stammered.

"Come on, please? No one has to see. It's only me," she whined.

It was a cute girlish whine that most guys would have melted for, but I braced myself for it. I wasn't going to cave in so easily. "But there's no music or anything...what're we supposed to do, spin around in a circle?" I asked, my grin teased, but my tone was incredulous.

"How about next time?" I stalled. "I promise, next time you ask, I'll dance, but not right now." I stated, trying my best to bargain with her.

"Hrmmm..." she mused, "ok, next time like you promised. It's getting late, and cold out here. Let's go inside." She grabbed my arm, and nudged me gently toward the doors.

We didn't say much while walking up the stairs. When we arrived at the door to her hotel room, she let my arm go and walked out ahead of me. Turning around, she clasped her hands in front of her, tilted her head to one side and asked, "So now what? Are you going to go get some sleep too?"

"Yeah, I probably will. There's no telling what kind of insane itinerary my uncle's got planned for us tomorrow."

"Oh I see, well, goodnight then," she said monotonously.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" I ventured. "I mean, after you've come back from whatever your family is doing."

"No, I don't think we're doing anything. Maybe some supper, but that's about it. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I liked spending time with you tonight, so maybe, we can do it again tomorrow?"

"It's a date." She smiled, and winked at me, her eyes lingered on me for a split second as wordless thoughts charged through the air, electrifying the space between us. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Sure," I barely managed, before she turned around and disappeared through the door, with the image of her smile, still lingering in my mind. The door closed behind her, and I was left standing there, in the quiet emptiness of the open hallway, still pondering what that smile and those eyes told me.

-MM

the drummer boy

Thu, 26 Apr 2007 13:48:35 GMT

Sitting on a bench outside, we kicked our feet and watched the sun set, her hand still clasped in mine. The slowly drawn shades of night darkened the sky, and a brief chill whipped through the air causing her to shiver suddenly. Her momentary shaking gave me pause, and I took my sweatshirt off, offering it to her to shield her from the cold.

"Aren't you going to get cold?" she asked.

"Nah, I'll be ok. The cold doesn't really bother me."

"You know, those stories were so funny!" she squealed. "I didn't know that you were such a cute kid," she cooed teasingly, accepting my sweatshirt and tugging it over her head.

"No, no, no...blah...," I shook my head and sighed, trying to elaborate further. "My aunt and uncle exaggerate, really," I said. "You can't believe everything that you hear..."

"They're just stories...they didn't all happen exactly like that."

If my face could be represented by a modern day emoticon, it would have looked something like this >_<. Those stories were not only embarassing, but they also showcased some of my less than perfect moments.

Over the course of dinner, not only did my childhood antics come up, but so did some of my less popular traits. My own famly outing me to a bunch of complete strangers, and they all laughed heartily while exchanging their experiences and observations about their own children. Unfortuantely for me, my stories seemed to come up the most often. There's not much to say. I always knew that I wasn't the most trouble-free child out there.

"It's ok though," she said, trying to reassure me. "Those things you did, and the things you said as a kid. What a laugh!"

Seeing the look on my face, she changed her tone a bit. "Ok, so if you weren't exactly like that, then how were you really like as a toddler?"

"Okay, I was a bit of a trouble-maker, but who isn't?" I asked, wide-eyed full of feigned innocence.

"So you're telling me that you never tied Lynn's door handle closed with a bungee cord, to another door handle right across the hall?" she asked. "Or how about the one where you convinced other kids to eat hot chili peppers, convincing them that they weren't 'that' hot?" she asked, raising both eyebrows.

Hearing the slight disbelief in her tone, I figured that I should just tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.

"Well, I guess there's always some truth in the stories my family shares. I guess I always did things my way cause I felt like it. It didn't really matter what kind of trouble I'd get into, or how much I might get hurt. I'd just do it, even though I knew what kind of consequences I might face later."

"Ah ha," she snickered.

"I'm kinda hard-headed that way." I said sheepishly, a slight grin perched along the edge of my mouth.

"So when your aunt said that you were always a bit stubborn, that wasn't one of these so-called 'exaggerations' right?" she asked, giggling to herself.

I suppose she was imagining me defying all the rules, just to do what I felt like doing, and she wouldn't have been that far off. "I'm not stubborn! I just march to the beat of my own drummer," I protested, a bit too loudly; my grin spreading like wildfire through a forest of ashe.

"Oh? So what does that drummer say to you? Does he always tell you what to do?" she asked slowly. Her nose twitched and the twinkle in her eye jumped from one brightly lit pool to the other.

Sidling up closer to me, I could see her warm translucent breath floating up into the night sky. My face got hot, my breath caught in my throat, when I realized how close she was at that moment. Catching a whiff of vanilla, I breathed a bit easier, and could also detect jasmine, a soothing scent that was distinctively her smell, but barely noticeable unless you were quite close. Pulling myself together, I tried to swallow slowly, but my throat and lips had gone dry.

"Uh..."

"Oh drummer boy..." she whispered.

"Yah?" I breathed, as we both leaned in.

-MM

stories we share

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 16:58:51 GMT

"So he's rounding the corner, drifts into a long slide across the wooden floor, yelling at the top of his lungs 'I'm outta control!'. And he crashes right into the Christmas tree, knocking things everywhere."

Laughter burst out around the table while I covered my face with my hands. My uncle had effectively put me into a hole six feet deep, then left me there, desperately trying to bury myself with my own hands. My family typically used me an entertaining scapegoat, due to my constant antics and natural tendency to get into troublesome situations. I had always been the odd one in the family, always marching to the beat of my own drummer.

"rMmmmmm," I groaned, peeking through my fingers at the bemused expressions splashed across their faces, like haphazardly thrown paint across canvas.

"There are times when having you around is a good thing," Lynn sneered quietly.

Shooting her glare, I mouthed, "Shut it or else..."

"Come on...why don't you tell some stories about Lynn? It's not exactly fair you know. She's awkward and not that bright...she has some funny stories too." I knew that I was whining a bit, but I was going to shift the focus off me however I could.

I could feel the scowl and her evil eyes boring into my skull, but I fended them off with a snicker and a grin that only caused my cousin's scowl to deepen.

"You know, I hear that you get wrinkles if you scowl too much," I said teasingly, looking in Lynn's direction. "Isn't that true?" I asked, my wide-eyed gaze sweeping from my cousin to my aunt, sitting just to her right.

"Oh well...I don't have problems with wrinkles. But I'm going to go wash my hands before dessert. I'll be right back." Hopping up and excusing myself from the table, I started away before anyone could respond.

"Alright. Well, when Lynn was about 5..." I heard my aunt's voice say, as it slowly mixed into the ambient noise and faded into the background. Finally, I was free.

Strolling out of the restroom, I checked my hands to see if they were totally dry, and ran into Steph as she was coming out of the women's restroom.

"Oh hey! Didn't see you there."

"Hellos. I had to go to the restroom too." she replied.

"Are my aunt and uncle still telling stories?" I queried.

"Actually, my parents started sharing stories about my brother, so I thought I should go before they started with me," she said, while laughing to herself.

Her laughter was like the tinkling of silver bells, pure notes of innocent clarity. They floated and danced through the slightly humid air, finding a perch among the rafters. I couldn't help but smile seeing her laughter light up her face.

"Let's go somewhere else, MM."

"But isn't everyone waiting for us at the table?"

"No, I told our families that we were going to go outside after I found you."

"Oh...?"

"Come on," she coaxed, and grabbed my hand with both of hers.

"But where are we..." I questioned her haltingly.

Without saying a word, she smiled, tugged at my hand, and off we ran through the lobby doors and into the darkening night sky.

-MM