Probably the coolest accidental picture I've ever taken. Rock on, little camera.

Advice to Jaclyn - and everyone else:

I've read a growing collection of articles that indicate that people who strive to be happy end up being more stressed and discontent than people who don't bother.

I love this. Because there's few things more annoying than someone telling you to "buck up because the sun will come up" when you're fuming. And there's seldom any moment that, just to spite those people, you could wish with greater enthusiasm that it actually won't (man, that would show em!).

I'm not saying embracing bitterness and anger is a good thing - but if you're mad then you're mad and it may even be justified. When you're happy you're happy.

I just hope you don't end up as one of those folks who goes to bed at night with a headache because you've spent all day trying to be something you're not. Point is, though I don't know you well, you seem like a pretty rad person to me - even while pissed and resentful.

So f- it all - it's all gravy. Be angry. You're still cool in many people's rhetorical "books."

I'm not exactly sure when I died
but for months I've been trapped inside
and somehow you woke me from my blues
so I've got to say that I'm in - debt - with you.

Because for so many days my eyes
were stuck, a never-ending glaze of whys.
I, slept until I couldn't sleep, then awoke
'round two or three, lazy horizontal bloke.

My, nights were wasted playing games
My, days were half slept and half in shames.
I'd, go to bed with goals, plans and dreams
And, rise too late to finish anything.

But, sure I've got a loving heart.
Though, that don't mean shit when I can't start.
My days when morning's still outside.
A broken roller coaster's no fun to ride.

Then one first Friday at the slam
I came to put a book in your hand.
You had some art hanging on that wall
So I thought you'd be in the crowded hall.

I anticipated and scanned the room
hoping that maybe I'd see you soon.
I had in my bag Melville's Moby Dick
for I've got a memory that'll always stick.

A summer's day spent out in the grass
Where you read aloud for the time to pass
A page or two and your soul shined bright
with passion that I loved like light.

Never seen a love so powerful true
as you had with that prose, through and through.
And I promised then there with my heart
to then end of that book I'd read from the start.

But I haven't cracked a single spine
On a single copy, though I've had time.
Hell I've held this copy of this book here
for what's turning quickly into a year.

And six months past that summer day I found,
this copy with gilded pages nicely bound.
So for a year and a half in mind I've held
a mem'ry of how that summer grass smelled.

So I was finally about to gift this book
And so eagerly around I did look.
But your smiling face was nowhere seen
and it made me think of something mean.

See that warm day was part of a fling.
Nah I don't mean that, we didn't do a thing,
But talk and talk and cuddle a bit,
and sleep over (just sleep) once or twice and that was it.

For about two weeks it was moving fast
my hollowed heart felt full again at last -
You said maybe we should slow things down.
I agreed without a single fret or frown.

Because I didn't want to fuck this up
for I wasn't just some love sick pup.
I thought that maybe we had a chance
at some sort of lasting real romance.

But just like a gamblers cold remorse
Just not in the cards for me of course.
After saying you'd like to slow things down
you never called back as if you'd fled town.

Was it foolish then for me to hope
For some explanation? Was I just a dope?
Why'd you not return a single word?
Not like my expectations were absurd.

I agreed with you wholeheartedly
that we should play most carefully
with our whole hearts because we cared
at least I did, fuck-damnit, am I love-impaired?

But days weeks and months of silence passed
and you didn't answer though I surely asked.
and it took quite awhile but I did reason
that your lack of action was not just love-treason.

Since then you've made art hung on that wall
I bet you've been in love, you've probably a fall.
And a week before about a month ago
you said, “Yeah, I want that book.” you know?

So I came on down to see the show
and I'd thought I'd finally get to go,
“Here this is for you, and thank you too.”
Because that mem'ry's no longer blue.

See sometime in those eighteen months
I realized just what you had done.
You gave a swift kick to my heart
and got it to finally up and start.

Before you I was trapped and cold,
Thinking that I'd die alone and old.
A weepy dumb dramatic fool
and probably eight tenths a tool.

But up you woke me from that slump
Like a sharp steel toe kick to the rump
and once I got over your not calling back
On my life I ventured a happy attack.

And it lasted for an awful long
Until something unknown went wrong.
And fall again I fell into
Feeling stupid and far too blue.

Till I came up to see the poet's slam,
To give you this book because goddamn,
holding on to a gift for a time so long
seems something silly and awfully wrong.

And low and behold again you filled
my heart like a drink restored after it's been spilled.
And funny how you weren't even there
Hell I wonder if you'd even care?

But now – I don't mind if we don't speak,
Or if to see me again, you never seek -
Because you've already for me twice
dug me from a grave - that's awful nice.

Especially when considering,
You had no idea what you were doing.
I guess for me you're eight tenths a muse -
Two tenths left over just to confuse.

So I've come to say I'm in – debt – with you.
And maybe you'd like to have this book, too.
And I'm not exactly sure when I died
but you pulled me up again, though you never tried.

And thank you, finally, for who you are
Whether you knew it or not you helped my heart.
So take this book, in thanks, from me
Because dammit, it's kind of heavy.

While on a bench with a gaggle of friends
Out the front of eyes, your gazes extend.
And while your pals can see a good yard or three
Your vision seems flirty with infinity-
Out past the cars and the trash on the ground
Out past the streets, tree leaves, beyond sound
As if you're not even there with your arms wrapped around
As if I feel your squeeze- but it's your heart that surrounds
You show me why- to hug like it matters-
to laugh till you're shattered-
and grin till they're flattered-
and sing till 'throat's tattered-

Strange while surrounded you seem so alone
As if waitin' on calls from a home never known
Some future ring that you wish you could find
Some fortune's charted - laid out in your mind-
Out past the illness and cold winter hands
Out past the railyard and poor punk-rock bands
As if you're not even there with your friends by your side
As if their company's good but it's just there to hide
While you wait to escape all the clamours-
to chase the endeavors-
and to follow enamours-
and to plan on forevers-

You say that you miss me- I miss you in kind
When gone for months I thought I'd never find
A chance to tell- you seem apart from the rest
For good or ill, sure the time it'll test-
Out past your plans cast forward in steps
Out past your worries or any precepts
As if you feel with your toes the heart of the earth, old
As if your hand could give life back to the Midas gold
Are you aware of the power you keep-
even while you're asleep?-
and the splashes from your leap?-
and the gifts for those who weep?

You make your exit with weights on your back-
Yet your smile sincere - for cheer, you've a nack
I only hope there's a foundation of stone
For the spirit you carry all on your own
Out past abusers who've made an attack.
Out past all lovers who stopped loving back-
As if you don't make grace wherever in any place!-
As if you're not an angel in this whole messed up race.
With the flick of a wrist you could wage war-
Or send warmth to the poor-
Or grant real ease to the sore-
But to choose which is your chore.

So on a bench with a gaggle of friends
In love with you, but I know - just the bends-
From rising so fast that I lost my sight.
I thank you for lifting up to a height-
Up past the humbugs and grumble-y mood
Up past the smog and the frightfully crude.
And I don't expect anything from our new friendship
And I won't force or command charted course on this trip
But I thank you - and I say sincerely
You're in tune more clearly.
You give real love more dearly-
Than all those who just merely-