hey dear,
i wish we could stay here,
maybe wait until next year to give our bodies to the future.
please remember,
the black oak oath where we both carved "forever" on wood and in our hearts,
"together we'll be NAP and CCR"

if sweetest dreams can keep you and me i am all ears, dear,
cause i dont think we'll always be as strong as we appear

I see you're leaving me and taking up with the enemy
The cold comfort of the in-between
A little less than a human being
A little less than a happy high
A little less than a suicide
The only things that you really tried

This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend

the prettiest girls line up like heartless wretches bent on some sordid complements exposing the gaping hole in their chests where once the hour glass was reset to bind them and hold them in eternity so grain by grain they would dissipate in some unfaithful unforgiving sea. they say, i confess that this is unpleasant, but id endure this so, this isnt measured in the inches it takes to be beautiful, i'll be honest dear this hurts like hell.

what could you expect?

this is anything but bearing the pain of growing, up and old. all i can hear is the sound of 6billion beating hearts, all i can see is the emptiness they find in listening to their own cries, and all i could be will have fallen down right in front of you, and all i could be has fallen down right in front of me,

they take exit over opportunity to turn in their graves, two hands for a shovel or a palm as a spade, its slowly assigned in such brilliance, they slowly define the boundaries of emptiness, and i can see it brighter than usual the backward breathing force like centripetal, imaginary motion that presses you in places, against the glass of hospital where you once began and wont end up that way, i want to die by the ocean, in a summer sunshowered rain old and seasoned, accepting of my fate, i could be there together we could try to mend the holes

arrested in fest.

cornered by the undertow
and so reserved in portions.

forgetting progressive regression
subsumed by the black tongue.

remembered in a memory painted black by it too.


resembled by the temperance. by such gilded edged, enclosed in black, black skin.

stretched, dried, and etched.

from limb to limb, anchors float,

they brachiate like wicked winged things, the ghost of the limbic system, haunts so too, the abhorrent bipedal.

yet optimistic in the undertow

please help this badly designed poorly put together vessel. i cannot emphasize enough how sad i am to be revolving within the vacilations in the eddies, falling in and out consciousness, in and out of bitter hate and love for the skin on my face, the contours and depressions you dote on you press in to say cheer up melancholy, tomorrows another day so it comes swiftly and goes exactly the same way, and i heard on the radio british kids who'd fuck the shit out of the system because theyd given up and perspectives that golden ring that binds you to a life of solitary symmetry and solitary strife, i ve seen the sorrow line on the power grid, hoisted up by black birds who finally could rest, and its the same picture revolving in my head, waiting for the inevitable waiting for death, im stronger today im brighter today, im lighter today than ill ever be, and the beer was fine, the wine was too, the whiskey was right and it ended there soon, ill be weaker again, darker again, heavy low come back in the end, and the undertow is pulling me. oh and the undertow is calling me , the sea floor is a place where when i was 5 sat at the bottom and stared at the shore i saw the climb, the silicone strain, the levels and shelfs of ground down fate, be swept in the eddies and tossed over again knew id have to return to the so forsaken land, and then at once it came to me as if it i split the seam of time, and saw 20 years in the future where i remained there all the bottom of that same watery fate, waterlogged and tossed about in the unforgiving waves, and forever seemed like an instant in solitary pain, forever was an instant in solitary pain, and forever i'd miss it--life as it passed, as forever was that instant in solitary pain, i'd forgotten to kick off the bottom, id forgotten to breath, id forgotten to kick off the bottom, id forgotten to breath,
Oh Dear God,
Send me a basket full of apples, a Bottle full of rain, a red and white checkered blanket to carry all this weight, a darling girl, some elegant refined, strong hearted girl who could cure me if she tried, oh im everything hopeless but ive got a lot of hope, im everything to die, but save me before i am torn asunder. i want this life, i want to find whats right, they are nothing perfect, but they see all my flaws, i am nothing perfect but i could care less for it all, i am nothing perfect, but with you i am whole i am nothing perfect but with you i am whole

today i am inspired to be a better person. because of real people. i want

today i felt finally at peace with feeling fulfilled at the feeling i am called to something, at the feeling that i can glorify God with what i feel i am called to do. a simple gesture of gratitude i could never be worthy of.

i am right now in a perplexed state of uncertainty. as if i wish to remain torpor for but a little while longer for friends to catch up to me so that i am not alone any longer and so that i can catch up to people so that i can catch up to everyone else around me. i suffer from a lack of motivation. but i realize everywhere i am lacking. i am at point where i have a sincere disregard for everything i just was, and perhaps for everything i am now and may be tomorrow. pretentious. yes, always. at some point that is our building block before we normalize it. because authentic person-hood is pretentious at some point. everything will circle back to where ever it was before. spend time to spend time. you must integrate everyday. so much is lost with a simple neglect, however innocent and beautiful. so you must realize the death in everything to see how it all has life. and just because you recognize the life please, never forget the death. for at both extremes you forget you are still human whether living or dead, there is a sincere disconnect.

in the promise land you must have had to convince yourself of your love.
the water is finally right, just like someone planned it
i picked up the wind across the atlantic
2 sheets filled with sin

i laugh all the time. but i do it in spite of the colors beneath. etc. etc, etc, is enough. i have seen and been to the gates of ends. after you seriously consider starting the last great adventure all by yourself everything is a joke, and every day can be beautiful, in a sad kind of way. happiness cuts with a soft edge. like when people who have absolutely nothing are perfectly content in each other's arms. company is such a paucity i hear it said by those clad in green. vaunt it nonetheless because its the kind of poverty that is valuable for itself for its elegance always. so people say they can only make themselves happy. because of the famine.


can i get a whoo whoo for change in time signature?

almost a new song everyday.
i wrote an ep in open C. 5 songs in 2 weeks. so it will be released soon i suspect. once i finish writing some essays for school and get some free time. i was going to send it off to a few recording companies. i think also ill play some at my school or coffee shops around ND. i have so many different genres that i am confused about what to play so im going to release a story book type of thing i think. 3 albums, one pop-rock/indie/folk, one folk/experimental, one folk. work needs to be done on all fronts of living first. i dont know whether it should just be a purely acoustic ep, or with electric instruments too. i am tempted to include the electronic instruments, guitar, synth and the like. we'll see. we shall see. pray for us all.

i believe so much lacking serotonin has cause my higher brain to shut down. so im so comatose.

exploring avenues of partial sleep, that destruction that self destructs everything you would cup in your hand. tear my eyes out with the tides. i never dreamt of such temperance. correspondence is advertisement of hale storms coming. alarmists claim it so, so follows gold is golden quietus. im the sunshine on your cheeks. do i make you happy. cause i am a skeleton living covered in anything worth seeing. im the sunlight on your face, do i make you happy? im the burst of blood in your chest, does it feel like living? you were this to me. now i dont know how to say anything anymore. i am in need of violence for vengeance, a fervor to combine the silence of quietus, the friendship of nails and wooden trees, plasticites parasites brought by the rain inside of me, the whole wide world is just as small as it seems from the moon. so ill go there too beauty is the scar that marks your fist from when you were a child. i am too. i am too. sick of the insufferable, dollar bill covered face, dollar bill covered vase, dollar bill covered mind, i need to let you know you are immanent paucity, vaunted indifferently by my messaniac message of peace, just let it be. some of us are born devils, they turn the silver merry go round. some the devils paw clenches your shoulder and turns you to the dark dark miserable mother night with hopes that you too will die. i found no happiness in their lies. oh how we nail eachother to the wooden trees made for you and me, i will carry yours if you nail me to both of ours so you can be free so i can see what its like suffering, apparently, its apparent that i never have accepted consequence, because we float on ok, float on. whats now all of this? you ve got a new world and new words follow coming through the landmines sent to provide weather changes in the happy happy june, indiana spring. i would think you were crazy. but its so cold in this little hospital wing. i'll beleive in anything. ill believe in anything as long as i'll be happy. i counted the plates someone was not at home. i counted the plates, someone was all alone. it was me. i was on the solstice, so its the annual joke.

roman features dont complete everything.

such a shame.

new obsessions of once obsessions. obscene. obtuse. opulent love of obstacles. they give me grace.

3rd planet, is wrong. such immanence is wholly the truth. the universe is the earth.

i have a hungry heart. it wants blood. so i'll hunt. i think this too. i imagined there was a big breeze bending over lamp posts ripping the tin roofs off our shanty towns like bottle caps.

how do you pick yourself up like a new moon. a new light to shine. a new bell to ring when you keep living dark, and think of sad sick things. its the same old story told by a different tongue, life's the optimist doling sunshine and plenty of rope. you conform to the sea, could have made yourself out of anything but you're tired of trying, keep on giving up.

im so convinced, of laughing.

due to its disguise. due to its rise in tides. somewhere some cup is filling up.

nothing seemed more beautiful than sharing our mortality. but no one comes that close to me. i know just what they see, or what i ought to be.
all this thinking's just a waste of time.
yeah all this thinking is just a waste of time.

guess i'm going blind.
this obsession of regression
guess i'll keep re-writing those lines: all this thinking is a waste of time. cause you know somewhere some cup is filling up,
somewhere someone's cup is filling up.

restlessness infests like a cheap drug.

like cheap whiskey, turned to acetylaldehyde, to an acidic vapor,
then
escapes and turns you back to the grave. into the living.

restless love of summer too.
the chocolate leather brown lumber--bones of trees hewed to 1x10 then nailed into place to provide rest for restless lover of summer.

the sun bled green through the tangled tendrils from the veracious vines, the wisteria that has yet to bloom in may, in april, in june, in august, in july.

i wait.

it warmed the air around me and so wrapped around my wounded head and feet in a medicinal breeze.

i think: these are not sebocorticals.

this is love. for i am dirt too, mother.

i too am dirt,

and ash, and dust.

restless love of summer is the paradox that drains the wintered veins from lifelessness.
but pruning is replaced two by two fold--they say.

now i wait.

within the restless.

so it hung in a distant expiration,

restless.

i decided its too late for me. i must go play mnusic. fuck the system. i meant it in ultimate terms. i am going to go to iu law school because its ranked 23 and its cheap for me due to scholarship reasons hopefully and va benefifts. then i shall write all the while, regarding my school work but nonetheless being committed to the finer aspects of life ie. music and writing. i decided this. i am not going to waste my life being some fucking white collar fucker
fuck that. man. illdo waht i willst. indeed.

soo writing and music. say you?
yes.
indeed, propose to me the idears behind this my good chap.
right, well i wrote two years ago if you remember correctly the philosphy of spiders and lemmings otherwise known as the philosophy of greed AND how every human can have purpose. i figured it out onenight as i was about to drift off to the netherland of sleep, i decided that people are beautiful despite them being sick nasty mcabre things at their core so i said that people should matter. and my theory makes everyone matter, but some ppl more. because frankly not everyone is equal. we;re worth more to society however fuckedup it is. that is why i wrote. i am writing about htat about how we are worthless if we arent"successful" ie capitalist cut throat pigs. we must be. i mean it is good for the "system: ie the world but its bad too for humanity so i decided that i would change it. and soomeone must be a savior a messiah for this to occur again. but JC issupposed to come and be like look the wolrkd is at peace when everyone believes the same thing the world will be so. but they are all incentivixed by things by money by what things money can buy ppl. its sad. so the story goes. any way i wrote a story i say. i did it. in my head its not on paper but its there,. and so i was depressed for 4 years and thoguht abt dieing alot and suicide and how pointless it was and all the what ifs i do go to hell i wouldnt want it. so i decided to live. and now i dont know if i want the christian heaven. to be honest. i mean i love God for my life but i am a capitalist at principle and GOd is not. so we would likely not get along i think, but i care for people. at least i say i do becase i need to to exist to be human. ahhhhh seee the system says that. the system says "good human like human" i do i like ladies. but in reality most ppl piss me off because they are so shallow. and sad. and sick. i am too. according to what standards>????? huh huh????/ i should have gone out. any ways it is so. i say ppl should be nice. and so the world is good then. kants moral imperative. i can remember this when i am drunk but no wehre else. its like my mind has split in two and decided certai things will be remembered only drunk and othersnot. so my memory is rediculous drunk. i remember everyones name everywhere i go everything i do mostly. but wish i didnt sometimes like pissing on the floor of the perkins bathroom when cops are int he lobby. or drinking too much and puking my guts out. gross. very uncivil. i dont understand how to be a good friend. i am nice to ppl but no one wants to hang out with me no one calls me up and is liek hey nick what up man lets chill, smoke cigs or drink or play music, or go do this or that or whatever. idk ishouldnt care. maybe its because i fuckedup my life being depressed for so long. i didnt know what humans normally do for things. what do we do? i just observed. i realize now i should have been an anthro major. but i am a poli sci. i took the lsat today i am hopeing i scored int he 160's but i feel i did bad. idk i shoudl cancel. law school isnt for me. i could be a lawyer but its not what i want to be. a preist isnt either. i dont like organized religion. i believe in God and JC but why do we need these ceremonial brain washing things? it makes God seem cheap. idk. brb. sooon.

roman miles

i wrote this song at the the very beginning of the great depression of 2007. i didnt know what any of it meant until years later. words just came from the chords and viceversa.

dead,
an open casket of lilies
a bouquet of ailing river veins
where angles lay me to rest
blooms of shivered glass--port holes in my anatomy

an addled disease of trembling hands, leaky faucets and weathered frames

last night it was burning, and aching, and climbing
the ladder of my rib cage to tourniquet my heart from insensitive things--
like melancholy outings and sitting alone in the rain.
cause ive been sleeping in a soggy november on a cobblestone sentiment for weeks.

no where feels like home.

its been a while since you smiled and i heard you say, that i love you. well i love you. i do.

cause youll be there to carry me, and bandage me, when im weary and bloodied and broken, still youll love me the same, despite the arrows that rain down i wont say "im giving up, im giving in, im tired now of living between these breaths." cause with you ill never be

dead,

winter is calling while i am biding this slumber till sunrise chimes,
light beckons a morning lurid in disguise, with a thimble full of desire.
can you take up these hands?
cause theyre calico with tremors of doubt and pity--a still frame motioned hand
resembled in tendrils of silk, ethereal precision, pinpricked by the rain blurring my window pane. well im waiting
for your healing whisper,
hold fast dreams are fleeting, just stay with the patter cause after the rain the sun always shines.

swollen, just like the summer, distant and scathing, darling im waiting,
is there a whisper, im always listening to hear you say i love, you.
cause youll be there to

to carry me, and bandage me, when im weary and bloodied and broken, still youll love me the same, despite the arrows that rain down i wont say "im giving up, im giving in, im tired now of living between these breaths." cause with you ill never be

dead.

hey girl, you look confused, like youre caught in that black balloon, did they come to take you too?
hey now im floating too, close enough to get to you, in coming up roses too.

coming together now.
im watching the weather now.
im floating together now.
with my arm around the moon.
we're coming together now.
but im watching the weather now.
cant keep it together when you keep

well that is that and this is this, watch you burn backwards in my head, like fireworks and photographs did.

well start this over, erase the frame and make sure youre cut keeps you ok cause ive been hoping to change

im coming together now
watching the weather now
your arm around me too
im watching the weather now
cant keep it together now
with my arm around the moon