ok, so i'm in the process of following this story that's running through my head and it's quite a process trying to write it all down. but here's a piece of what's emerged so far. hope you enjoy, and i hope i finish it someday.


I wanted to paint landscapes.
Beautiful scenic nature shots captured by the skilled brush of an envied talent. Pictures that look so lush with dark greens and stunning blues that for a second you could see yourself on the shore of that mountain lake.
Fishing from the shore, just you and the perfection that engulfs every sensory organ. The sharp methane smell of freshwater fish and decaying plant life. The sound of small waves lapping at the ground by your feet, a seagull crying as it passes overhead. The sun setting behind the mountain making the water a blueish-orange.
Burnt sienna mixed with cornflower blue.
Mother nature untouched, hanging on the wall of a hospital waiting room. Tranquility on a palette knife.
At least, that's what I always wanted to paint.
To be recognized by an illegible scribble carefully placed, floating beside the blue spruce; that was to be your only flaw in the garden of eden transferred from mind to hand to canvas.
Pure Zen through water-soluble acrylics.

Of course, that's never what came out.

to keep a bold lie buried within the face of truth
to speed the youth that holds secure a sense of belonging
to reap the senses dry and bleed a full scale catharsis
these skeletons stray far from the grave

and even when the dust settles on this empty dance floor
we will find ourselves lost in the reverberating echoes of the once faithless
and slow dance the long way home.
no one will sing the story of our decay
or immortalize the name that outlasts a forgotten memory
because the cycle of the now is the only future;
to remain faceless.

the only hope that creates fear
is the hope that one day a legacy will find its way to our doorstep.
a frozen moment,
the long kiss goodbye.
surely we will take these thoughts to our grave
and discover the true meaning of the word blessed.

i saw a $20 on the ground as i walked to work.

i passed it up.

please don't make my days shitty.

yours,

daine

young traveler, set your feet ablaze
towards a silver muse fading fast.
with a mouth of oblivion,
losing touch like the sun versus horizon.

we face infinity, reaching deep towards that shallow water
and tracing the edge with calloused hands.
for it is the bait of the damned to tread silent
until the last breath finds comfort in its own mortal memory.