behind the closed gate
is where you will see.
a passion that burns
inside of me.
i'll hold it in,
and never tell.
to open the gate
i'm not allowed
to cast the spell.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
untitled 6.
victim of shame.
raped of pride.
pray to God.
pray to Buddha.
inside the temple,
only recognize me
once i've found
peace within
myself.
raped of pride.
pray to God.
pray to Buddha.
inside the temple,
only recognize me
once i've found
peace within
myself.
Monday, December 5, 2011
always remember...
...there is nothing so horrible that one minute, one hour, one day... or many of them... might cure.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
inside.outside.
it's raining.
outside.
so i stayed.
inside.
stop staying
inside.
start dancing.
outside.
it's still raining.
but now
i'm outside.
dancing.
outside.
so i stayed.
inside.
stop staying
inside.
start dancing.
outside.
it's still raining.
but now
i'm outside.
dancing.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
untitled 5.
when you cast a spell,
i think i should mention,
the result you never can tell,
no matter your intention.
i think i should mention,
the result you never can tell,
no matter your intention.
Friday, December 2, 2011
long.
Performing can be pretty terrifying, to be honest with you. Whether it's constantly creating the new, or constantly recreating the old, there's a terrifying sense of pressure. You really have to muster up a lot of ego and energy to even go out there, and it drains you. I occasionally look down at my feet, or the others around me and think to myself:
"Well, here it is... the same old s*it again."
And the nights you go out there - where you haven't gotten enough sleep, or you were traveling, or rehearsing, or not recovered from the night before, that's when it physically becomes a lot. In between songs, you find yourself decimating two bottles of water and a 5 Hour Energy... and it only took you 20 seconds to do it. And in that moment, you hurt. It's painful. Honest-to-God, painful. Your sides are collapsing, knees are buckling, heart racing, you can't breathe fast enough. GOD, WHERE DID YOU HIDE ALL THE AIR? But through this pain, you see the faces in the crowd. Just a glimpse, in those 20 seconds. And you realize your purpose. You go back out there and take care of business. Because those smiling faces are there because of you. My life... what I can remember of it... has been going up on stage. All I know is that when it's time to go on, it's time to go on. You either die, or you fall down, or you make it through. And that little voice inside you pushes you to make it through. Even though, at times, you think death would be so much easier. Performing is such a mystical thing. You go out there, and you open up yourself, you expose your deep fears. You open your heart to these strangers. Performing live is, to me, acting out your conscience and feelings in front of a room full of strangers. That's why I so intensely love being myself. Yes, the songs are chosen ahead of time. Yes, the choreography is -mostly- rehearsed. Yes, the patter is planned - even when it's planned to look unplanned. Everyone wants to emulate, to imitate their hero. There's no harm in repeating a good thing. Especially when that good thing can live through you, and continue to touch people. I've been taught by experts in the art of everything, and I want to share that.
My job is to go out in front of a room of people and catch lightning in a bottle. If I miss it, or there's none around to be found... I have to create the storm myself. And do it quickly. I have instinctively had a third eye for what's going on around me at all times for as long as I can remember. I can tell who is into it, who is not. Who has left, who has come alive. I can feel if a song is not connecting. And when you finally hit the groove, that is my home. As odd as it may seem, I go onstage to find peace.
Performing is my marathon. I want to see how far I can go. It's very personal. I think that fame and fortune are things that are fulfilling only in the freedom that they can give you. I'm not famous. I am not rich. I do not understand the intrigue that seemingly always follows me... It only leads to leaving people feeling disappointed that you are not the person they believed you to be. Even if you never said you were, in the first place. Even if you categorically stated that the mystery and the intrigue was placed upon you without merit.
The person I become onstage, that person is sometimes a stranger. A stranger in two ways. One, I feel that LOVE that really has been my motivation for everything.... to spread it, and give it. I have that power onstage that is sometimes lost when I'm off. A stranger is welcomed into another's presence because their name is on a big sign. But, what's in a name, really? It's fickle, really. For two hours, you are the center of attention. You are loved, and embraced, and praised. You are an angel. Then the lights fade, and you're normal. That is who I am. I am normal. Just as normal as anyone else. Perhaps it's a little more lonely than some... I think that's stranger 'no. 2'. You're in a strange town, or you're in the car onto the next place, or home, and you can't get anyone on the phone. Just to be able to talk to someone as yourself would be enough. It's isolated. A hotel room, a car, a plane. Solitude in a public place is a deafening silence.
It's at this point that the 'shine' ultimately wears off. Sometimes I think the price you pay for pursuing a career in show business, is that you become very attuned to it's dark side. Many have truly made a deal with the Devil. And it's almost unavoidable - in a realm where it's inhabitants are driven by ego, vanity, and excess - you'd be hard pressed to not submit or pretend otherwise. But, to me, I'm learning that it's just a business. It's how you survive in this very cold world. In the cold world, in a cruel business you work in, you have to separate yourself from those things. Otherwise, that parasite can consume you.
I am becoming at ease with the world. Amiable. Even though I will always long to be the two things that seem unattainable. The past me - a child, and the future me - a man. I want to feel the joy and simpleness of being a child. On the other hand, I want so desperately to be able to take care of those I love. And, God, I love them. The serenity in being able to care for someone, and have them believe it. And trust that in you. To feel safe. That's what I was meant for. I do it for strangers hundreds of times a year. I've spent years doing that for these strangers. I want to do that for the people I love.
I wish I hadn't taken for granted of some of the places I've been. In fact, I wish I could remember where I've been. It's sad. It's the reason that I've come to think that the more you experience, the more you embrace - the more you are. Enjoy the ride while you're on it. You might even have to get off, at times, for whatever reason. It can be discouraging, or frustrating. But I think it's a shame if you never let yourself get back on. Try it all.
"Well, here it is... the same old s*it again."
And the nights you go out there - where you haven't gotten enough sleep, or you were traveling, or rehearsing, or not recovered from the night before, that's when it physically becomes a lot. In between songs, you find yourself decimating two bottles of water and a 5 Hour Energy... and it only took you 20 seconds to do it. And in that moment, you hurt. It's painful. Honest-to-God, painful. Your sides are collapsing, knees are buckling, heart racing, you can't breathe fast enough. GOD, WHERE DID YOU HIDE ALL THE AIR? But through this pain, you see the faces in the crowd. Just a glimpse, in those 20 seconds. And you realize your purpose. You go back out there and take care of business. Because those smiling faces are there because of you. My life... what I can remember of it... has been going up on stage. All I know is that when it's time to go on, it's time to go on. You either die, or you fall down, or you make it through. And that little voice inside you pushes you to make it through. Even though, at times, you think death would be so much easier. Performing is such a mystical thing. You go out there, and you open up yourself, you expose your deep fears. You open your heart to these strangers. Performing live is, to me, acting out your conscience and feelings in front of a room full of strangers. That's why I so intensely love being myself. Yes, the songs are chosen ahead of time. Yes, the choreography is -mostly- rehearsed. Yes, the patter is planned - even when it's planned to look unplanned. Everyone wants to emulate, to imitate their hero. There's no harm in repeating a good thing. Especially when that good thing can live through you, and continue to touch people. I've been taught by experts in the art of everything, and I want to share that.
My job is to go out in front of a room of people and catch lightning in a bottle. If I miss it, or there's none around to be found... I have to create the storm myself. And do it quickly. I have instinctively had a third eye for what's going on around me at all times for as long as I can remember. I can tell who is into it, who is not. Who has left, who has come alive. I can feel if a song is not connecting. And when you finally hit the groove, that is my home. As odd as it may seem, I go onstage to find peace.
Performing is my marathon. I want to see how far I can go. It's very personal. I think that fame and fortune are things that are fulfilling only in the freedom that they can give you. I'm not famous. I am not rich. I do not understand the intrigue that seemingly always follows me... It only leads to leaving people feeling disappointed that you are not the person they believed you to be. Even if you never said you were, in the first place. Even if you categorically stated that the mystery and the intrigue was placed upon you without merit.
The person I become onstage, that person is sometimes a stranger. A stranger in two ways. One, I feel that LOVE that really has been my motivation for everything.... to spread it, and give it. I have that power onstage that is sometimes lost when I'm off. A stranger is welcomed into another's presence because their name is on a big sign. But, what's in a name, really? It's fickle, really. For two hours, you are the center of attention. You are loved, and embraced, and praised. You are an angel. Then the lights fade, and you're normal. That is who I am. I am normal. Just as normal as anyone else. Perhaps it's a little more lonely than some... I think that's stranger 'no. 2'. You're in a strange town, or you're in the car onto the next place, or home, and you can't get anyone on the phone. Just to be able to talk to someone as yourself would be enough. It's isolated. A hotel room, a car, a plane. Solitude in a public place is a deafening silence.
It's at this point that the 'shine' ultimately wears off. Sometimes I think the price you pay for pursuing a career in show business, is that you become very attuned to it's dark side. Many have truly made a deal with the Devil. And it's almost unavoidable - in a realm where it's inhabitants are driven by ego, vanity, and excess - you'd be hard pressed to not submit or pretend otherwise. But, to me, I'm learning that it's just a business. It's how you survive in this very cold world. In the cold world, in a cruel business you work in, you have to separate yourself from those things. Otherwise, that parasite can consume you.
I am becoming at ease with the world. Amiable. Even though I will always long to be the two things that seem unattainable. The past me - a child, and the future me - a man. I want to feel the joy and simpleness of being a child. On the other hand, I want so desperately to be able to take care of those I love. And, God, I love them. The serenity in being able to care for someone, and have them believe it. And trust that in you. To feel safe. That's what I was meant for. I do it for strangers hundreds of times a year. I've spent years doing that for these strangers. I want to do that for the people I love.
I wish I hadn't taken for granted of some of the places I've been. In fact, I wish I could remember where I've been. It's sad. It's the reason that I've come to think that the more you experience, the more you embrace - the more you are. Enjoy the ride while you're on it. You might even have to get off, at times, for whatever reason. It can be discouraging, or frustrating. But I think it's a shame if you never let yourself get back on. Try it all.
man in the mirror.
We draw to us experiences that we need to learn from... and those who are drawn to us to teach us the lesson are also learning as well. We are mirrors. Both to ourselves and to them. If you find something you don't like in someone else - perhaps it's because that "thing" is within you as well. It hurts to admit that, but it's true. We can't keep blaming others for our own issues. If anything, we have to realize that no one is perfect, and we are all flawed. It's easy to see that flaw in others, and painful to see it in yourself. If we are to make change, it starts with ourselves. The man in the mirror. Only then can we spread hope, peace, joy, love. Only then can we give it.
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