Rid of It

Year after year, I cycle through feelings of complacency and exhaustion; a feeling that I can’t keep up with the dream I have set out in front of me. Committing to this or that, running to and fro, loving too hard that it hurts, burning so bright that it scars, but dying so quickly is my mode of operation. Am I not more than this? Am I not just the collection of my choices, my errors, my loves and losses?
Silly questions thrown into the air so that they don’t stay dormant in my head for too long. Surely, they may come back home, but by then I will have busied myself again with tales or work or fleeting desires and won’t have time to respond to them until a later moment of reflection.
I have learned to just rid myself of unanswerable questions. I have learned to just walk blindly, paying no mind to the risk of pain. The one I love is a ghost at my side and she comes along with me. The dream I have is a distanced portrait hung on a wall that retreats into the haze. These things I would do anything for, the girl and the dream. They deserve my DNA, they deserve my devotion. Perhaps, one could say they are the ingredients to my yearly cycle of disorientation; that they are why my bones grow weaker each day, but my head inflates with more visions of beauty.
I don’t mind. I love the girl. I love the dream. All of the things that tell me otherwise I rid of it.
I ask you, what is it that you must rid of?



I am feeling the change in the weather more so than ever before. Perhaps it is age, perhaps it is a heightened awareness. Either way, I feel a change in me occurring just as smoothly as the leaves falling from their branched homes. There are loves that come and go, work that picks up and falls off, and a time that constantly demands to be chased. I feel like I had it all, but over and over I learn I have nothing truly. At first, this scared me, but after conversations with myself, subtle comfort from friends, and poignant songs that color my endless days I have found a comfort in such little possessions. The only thing I ever needed was a relationship: to you, to him, to her, to the one I always wanted, to the one I always seek, to the whole world. Relationships are fragile, but large beautiful vases put up in a most sacred harbor. You can put the right things in and they hold up, strengthening the piece with mass and memories and love. However you can just as easily put the wrong sharp-edged thing in and it can scratch and crack at the beautiful vase. More often than not, I just throw the closest thing into that vase of mine and hope nothing happens to it. It is now that I see the damage I have done through the choices I have made. Perhaps it is I who needs to be more delicate, more precise with what and who is in my vase. Maybe it isn’t you. Maybe it isn’t us. That is OK, because I still love you as you are my world. I can let go of things, because I need not own them. I have people and love, I just need to find them.
My change in season is now, and I take of my jacket instead of bundle up. I want to feel something. 


Things don't have to be backwards!


Thank you for visiting my little world. It is an odd place, at least to me. I hope you will take a peek around, enjoy the artwork and tattoos; perhaps read some excerpts of my writings.

In the near future, I will be publishing two to three times a month about tattoos, culture, literature, and my life’s adventures. Some of these will be accessible on other sites I am partnering with, but you can always find them right here.

Again, I appreciate your time and interest, I hope to capture it for a bit longer.

Love, logic

~ JS