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A message from the management.

This blog has reached its conclusion. If you are a new reader, welcome, and it might be best for you to start from the beginning, otherwise you will be missing out on a wealth of great material.

For the longtime fans, Scattered Thoughts may have ended, but the story is far from over. You can pick it up on Subsistence.

Thanks, as always, for reading,

Davlin

With a whimper.

A few weeks ago I posted what I thought was going to be the last entry on this blog, but I discovered I had a few things left to say. Now I think I've finally run out of words. I've tried to go through and read some of my earlier pieces for inspiration, however that process proved more difficult that I could have ever imagined.

Everything I had written this year was dedicated to the future, one that will now never come to pass and it's something I don't know how to deal with. The one person who's meant more to me than I ever thought possible is now a stranger and the loss of that connection has been devastating.

I miss her. I miss us. Since I've gotten back I've felt so incredibly empty and every smile I've put on display hasn't been anything other than weakly managed semblance. And that's just the beginning.

Writing doesn't bring me the solace it used to and I feel like that's the last thing I truly had. Maybe one day things will be different and maybe they won't, but this has run its course.

Thank you for following and I wish I could have been better than I am, but I'm not. And for that, I'm eternally sorry.

Maudlin

Noro-Brand New

It's been a week and I've barely left this room. The walls close in a little more with each passing day. I've had a little contact with the outside world with the help of emails and social networks, but they do little to ease the pain.

I spend the days weeping and looking for employment, because financial obligations are a few of the things I've never really been able to escape. It all piles up and I'm not sure if I have the tools to dig myself out of this one. At eventide I scramble to set up the defenses to protect myself from the impending darkness which threatens to consume all that I have left.

When I'm trying to sleep I have a feeling deep within my bones which lets me know I'm not alone. He takes his perch at the foot of the bed and watches me with great interest. He smiles and I can hear the laughter in his voice as he repeats the things she said to me. Then he parrots some of the more destructive thoughts I've had lately.

"You're dying", he tells me.

I close my eyes and I see her. This is what he wants; for the wounds to reopen and the ebb to begin anew. The last nine months flash in as many seconds and it leaves me spent.

When I open them he's lying next to me, smiling so big his face splits. His giggling gets so loud it fills the room and I look at the clock. Four hours left until sunrise.

I'm running out of time.
I tried all day,

To write something down.

But I couldn't get past,

these three little words...

I miss you.

So for now,

I'll succumb to the tears.

And then tomorrow,

I'll try again.

The inevitable fallout

Yeasayer-Madder Red

What started as a drizzle has quickly evolved into a full blown monsoon. Heavy drops pound the windshield severely limiting my visuals and reducing the radio to nothing more than enigmatic whispers. I grip the wheel with both hands and desperately struggle to maintain control. After ignoring all the signs which let me know where this particular road would lead, I soldier on.

In the distance I can barely make out a series of flashing lights. For a split second I close my weary eyes and when I return them to open road I'm left with just enough time to make out the words "Dead End", but nowhere near enough to react. That's when everything slows to a crawl.

The headlights shatter, plunging me into darkness with the demons I've been trying so hard to escape. The music is replaced with the sounds of metal folding in on itself. My face pushes its way through the windshield, reminding me that seatbelts can't funtion properly if you fail to buckle them. Then I'm airborne.

You could argue that this fall was inevitable, but that doesn't make it any less unexpected. The descent goes on for what feels like months and only prolongs the pain I know is going to come any second now.

I meet the pavement face first and go into a skid. I can feel every inch of skin rip from my body until I finally run out of forward momentum. I spit glass and broken teeth and try to catch my breath.

"You need to pick yourself up."

The voice is too far away to distinguish its owner.

"I know it hurts but you've got to move past this."

It's my mother.

"You can't allow yourself to dwell. You have to move on. I'll give you some space."

Then she's gone.

Gone. Just like everything else.

"I don't think I can." I say aloud, not to her, but to the one I left behind. "This time I've lost too much. I don't know how to move on." Every time I speak blood oozes from my gums and slides down my face. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. I never..." With every word my breath becomes shorter, so I decide to make it quick. "I'm just so sorry...for everything."

I use what little strength I have left to flip over on my stomach. With a quick glance upward I can see a sign which reads, "Dallas: 148 miles". I lift myself up onto my elbows and begin to crawl, promising myself not to look back until I get there.

Fin.

I think this is going to be the last thing I write. I wish I had some grandiose sentiment that would bring this blog to some sort of closure point, but things don't always happen this way. Sometimes things just...end.

Well, since you asked...

Bobby,

Thank you for checking in and I hope this finds you well. Tell your student who found my blog that I said congratulations and I wish him the best of luck. It’s funny, I wondered who found it by googling your name. As for me, well, things haven’t exactly turned out the way I thought they were going to.

But first, a little backstory.

During my senior year I spent so much time trying to deal with things both in and out of my control that small details, like my future, kind of fell to the wayside. While my classmates were busy trying finding schools and deciding what they wanted to do with their lives, I was looking for reasons not to end mine. I finally found it in something simple: a notebook and pen.

To my amazement, the year I spent wasting all the academic accomplishments I’d worked so to accrue didn’t stop me from graduating and I was thrust into the real world without a plan or ambition. I lived in my car, slept on other peoples couches and even had to move out of state after I’d burned my last bridge at home. I didn’t even have a bed of my own until four years later. It was during this time I took the job which would inevitably lead to the most heartbreaking experience of my life which stretched out over the next two years. If I could go back and change it, though, I wouldn’t because it gave me some of the best material I’ve ever written.

It was also during these couple of years that I realized I wanted to make movies. I made a half assed attempt to find one locally, but the amount of money I needed seemed too daunting and quickly became discouraged. Once I was able to finally shake some of the things I was burdened with for far too long I was able to flourish at work and even found a sense of financial stability.

It was about this time I went to California and, well, you’re familiar with the rest. The moment you told me I had been accepted into the Brooks Institute remains the proudest moment of my life. I was hesitant at first, but when you assured me money should be the last thing on my mind I went for it. Granted, I probably acted a little hasty in quitting my job, but I thought it was a sure thing. Then, the loan fell through and the disappointment hit hard. Truthfully, I still don’t think I’ve fully recovered. But life goes on.

I couldn’t find another job and there was no way my old one was going to take me back. I lost everything I’d spent the last four years building. So, I moved to Tennessee to be with the woman I loved.

Now, it’s six months later and, I gotta tell you man, I’m struggling. I’m writing this from my desk at yet another job in which I feel like my talent is going to waste and not making enough to support myself, much less save for the future. I’m so tired of feeling stuck.

I’ve also been reading about all of the films which are getting greenlit and it makes me sick to my stomach. The industry has grown stagnant and I want to be one of the voices which helps get us out of this rut. I’m growing more and more worried the day might never come.

I know this is probably more than you wanted to hear, but…I don’t know, it’s all building up lately and I didn’t really know who else to turn to.

Thanks for listening.

Davlin

Updates

I hate to admit this to you, but I've actually created a Twitter account. Don't look at me that way, it was bound to happen. Check it: @feelreleaseheal

I'm brainstorming ideas for an upcoming horror novel as well as starting a drastic rewrite of Scattered Thougths.

I'm about to start recording more of my words into MP3s for Bled Out Onto A Page. Which one am I going to start with? Good question, Reader, and the answer to it is up to you. My time in the mental hospital: Part 1 or To The Girl Who Taught Me The Art Of Letting Go? Choose wisely.

And, finally, thanks to Ana's help, there's a big surprise coming your way.

Talk to you soon,

Davlin

An open letter to Justin Furstenfeld.

Justin,

Your music has saved my life almost more times than I can count.

See, I was living near Dallas when "Calling you" hit local radio stations like a plague. I couldn't turn the dial without having that song shoved down my throat and it never received an honest listen. In fact, I had completely written off Blue October all together.

Well, until I saw you live.

I was at Edgefest 2004, when you came onstage and I heard the chorus for "Razorblade". You did this a capella and from the fucking heart. That's when the guitars kicked in and I became a fan. The song was everything I needed to hear at just the right moment.

A year later I was in a bad way. With the little money in my possession I bought History for Sale and it gave me the solace I was looking for. It was the only thing I listened to on a 28 hour bus ride to my new home in South Carolina.

I scoured the record stores in a desperate attempt to get some of your earlier work, but you guys were virtually unknown beyond the TX border. Then, I stumbled upon Argue with a tree and it remains the greatest live album I've ever heard. It inspired me to take some of the songs I'd written and try to get in a band with little to no success.

I was there for about another year when I found myself at the next life shattering event. It was also at this time when I heard all of the locals talking about this great new band, which of course, ending up being yours. I still can't describe the pride I felt when I saw the band's cutout and multiple rows saved for Foiled. You guys finally made it.

Soon, I was riding shotgun in my friend's car as I read the lyrics along with the tracks. Then, I heard your mom's voice mail on "Hate me" and I started crying like a little girl,yet unashamed. It sounded like the countless one's my mother has sent me. Again, you were there with just what I needed to hear.

When I was 22 I was on the way to my Mom's, because she was going to take me to a hospital so I could commit myself. It was due to many things, but it was the worst break up of my life which was the most apparent. My MP3 player chose that instant to play "HRSA" and I don't have to tell you how close to home that hit.

During my time there, I wasn't allowed to listen to my music and that was one of the only types of therapy that did me any good. I told a counselor this and, during my third group session she brought in a little boombox and hit play. She told us to draw a picture of our families. I worked diligently on mine with a glorious soundtrack of classical music. Suddenly, a familiar melody played softly through the speakers and I froze. A crayon fell from my hand as the lyrics of "Black Orchid" wrapped around me and I could no longer fight back the tears.

It was when I was released that I truly began exorcising my demons with the power of the written word. After several failed attempts at getting published I instead focused on performing my work at open mics. I ripped my heart open in front of strangers, growing more and more honest. See, it became my mission to help others as you had helped me.

That's why I created the website www.bledoutontoapage.com, to help reach out to others who feel utterly lost and alone. Your influence is proudly displayed on many of its pages.

I said earlier that you saved my life and I meant it. One of the only reasons I'm still here is due to the catharsis and inspiration Blue October is able to provide.

For that I can't thank you enough.

Sincerely,
Davlin

P.S. I now love "Calling You".

Resurgence

Tonight I watched the brilliant Swedish film, Let The Right One in, followed by it's soulless American rehash, Let Me In. Seeing the remake directly after the source material made me sad as a moviegoer and crestfallen as a wanna be film maker. Everyday I read the hottest movie gossip online and I've yet to see something which isn't a sequel, remake, reboot, parody, homage, rip-off, new spin on an already archaic premise or yet another license property. You know we're getting desperate when they're asking us for 11 bucks to see a goddamn Battleship flick. I see this and I get angry about not getting into film school because of finances.


In one year I've gotten around 4,600 hits on this blog and I'm thankful for every one of them. With my words I go dark places where most would ever fear to dread. Honesty is never easy to deal with. So, you can imagine my frustration when I see assclowns like The Situation selling 12,000 books and FUCKING Snooki at 9,000. Two individuals, and remember one calls himself the Situation and both of them are illiterate, have written books that other people have actually bought.

Wake the fuck up, America.

We are all getting dumber and it's nobody's fault but our own. The reason this shit is happening is because we refuse to do anything that makes us think. We won't read anything longer than a tweet. Until we show them we're ready for something new and dangerous, we're only going to get the same hackneyed things over and over again. We need a creative renaissance and it must be now.

If you are ready for something more meaningful, I want you to go to my site, www.bledoutontoapage.com, and explore it for just one hour. You can always go back to facebook afterward.

For reasons which now escape me

The rain is coming down harder now than when I’d started. I throw the shovel away somewhere to my right before sitting down in the mud and patches of grass. I stare at my blistered hands and watch as the rain cleans them of the dirt, yet remains unable to wash away the guilt and knowledge of the things I’ve done here tonight.

My breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as the night’s exertion finally catches up with me. I briefly contemplate lying on my back and inhaling the water as it fills my mouth. While it would certainly make the events to come easier, I probably shouldn’t make this a habit.

First, there’s something which needs to be addressed. Even if I was smart enough to get away with what I’ve done here tonight, I do not want to. Right now, every second of freedom I have is borrowed at best and I’ve decided to use that time to think of what it is I’m going to tell them when they piece the story together with all the evidence I’ve left behind.

That’s one of the worst things about all this, I think. There is absolutely no legitimate reason for my actions. You never hit me and were nothing but faithful during the year we were together. In truth, you treated me better and loved me more than I ever thought possible. I don’t know…maybe that was the problem.

While watching the freshly filled hole I placed you, the man I loved with everything I had, my mind goes to the dark place. I imagine your hand bursting up through the dirt to grab me and pull me under, or the earth itself opening up to swallow me whole. At least that way we’d be together again.

The last thing you said to me is still raw in my mind. We were having dinner, something I threw together quickly, because it was late and I was too tired from work to make anything extravagant. It was while we were quietly eating next to one another at the bar when you looked at me with those eyes I’ve always loved getting lost within and said, “Maybe we should think about getting a table.” Then, for some reason, I just snapped and …well, I guess you know the rest.

It doesn’t make any sense, I know, and it’s also too late for apologies. I can hear sirens somewhere in the distance and they’re getting closer, so I’d better make this quick. I wanted to love you forever, honest I did, but I was never sure how. Now that I have to live with what’s transpired here tonight, I think I’ll finally be able to.

The sky has finally stopped its weeping, but I’ve only just begun.

At somewhat of a loss for words.

So much has changed over the last several months. I’ve said goodbye to everyone I knew, most of which only brought me down anyway, quit a job I hated and moved several states away to be with the only woman I’ve ever loved. So, yeah, things in my new life are much better than the one I’ve left behind. I’ve been dying to tell you about it all, which is something that’s proved difficult.

See, I’ve tried almost every day to sit down and write like I used to…but I can’t. Instead, I just stare at a blank screen and wait for words that never materialize. They don’t come easy to me like they once did and it’s not due to a lack of things to talk about. Lately it’s growing more and more evident that there’s only one part of my old lifestyle I truly miss.

It’s been my release since I was 19 and become crucial to the process of what I think defines me most. I’d like to talk about it, but when I bring it up I feel guilty, for various reasons, and it’s the one thing I don’t think she understands.

I’ve been trying to think of more to say, but again, it’s proving difficult. I just wanted to let you know that I am doing well. Maybe someday the words will come and, when they do, you’ll be the first to know.

Fighting the darkness

I wake up,
after another bad dream.
Lightning flashes through the window outside.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the gloom.
The room is vastly different from the world I was just shown behind my lids.
The dread dissipates the second I turn and see her face which is still sleeping soundly.
For the first time since I awoke,
I'm able to smile.
With one arm I pull her tight against me.
And when I close my eyes,
the darkness doesn't seem quite as scary.

Possible Scattered Thoughts Rewrite

It opens with me entering a therapist's office, carrying a spiral tightly under my arm. The doctor tells me to have a seat and I plop down on the couch. She asks me questions about who I am as an individual and I answer them, which will serve as the reader's introduction. This leads into the sections.

Example

Doc: You spoke earlier of Lisa and the scars that particular relationship gave you. Tell me about some of the others.

Me: Well, for starters, there's something you should know.

Doc: And what's that?

I really suck at relationships

That's when I dive into all of my relationship stories and songs and read them to her from my spiral. The banter between her and I will serve as the piece's set up and epilogue. It will also give the reader my current perspective on the pieces which will help to lighten the entire tone of the book to show that things get better. It was way too bleak before and this change will make it an entirely different experience.

I think this will also hammer home the point I've been trying to get across this whole time; writing can save your life. I want people to see just how powerful an outlet putting your thoughts down on paper can be. There will also be longer stories which have never been seen before and fill in many of the gaps I've previously left out. Then, when I'm out of things to tell I leave the therapist's office and end the book with “Words”.

The best part? If you go onto www.bledoutontoapage.com, you can actually flip through the journal I read from in the book. You'll get several unique experiences while there as well. Hidden throughout the site are links to my various other projects, such as this here blog.

If they come here, they will see how the story has progressed, as well as a preview of my next book, I've no reason to dream.

It's late/early and this is about as far as I'm going to get for now. After a little more time spent expanding the idea, I'll start writing. I'm interested in hearing anyone's thoughts. If you like what you've heard so far, send someone a link to this post or put it up on your facebook page.

Because I like you, here's the link for you to copy and paste.

http://davlinisnotyourfriend.blogspot.com/2011/03/possible-scattered-thoughts-rewrite.html
Today I'm going to try and have a heart to heart with my father.

Surreal

I know I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I have too much energy. All those other sleepless nights were caused by loneliness and fear of what I might see once I slip off into the dreams. Tonight, however, is different, because I'm too excited about the next couple of days. After which I'm leaving to be with you for good and I feel like a small child does when Christmas is fast approaching. All of the possibilities of the things to come make sleep impossible. I've also been in this really deep, creative process that doesn't happen very often and I'm curious as to where it's going to take me. There are some really great ideas I can't wait to discuss with you and others which will have to remain a secret for now.

Her Smile

I've seen a lot of expressions cross her face, but none of them compare to her smile.


Whenever I know she's having a bad day it kills
me and it becomes my mission to put one of them on her face again.






I don't care what it takes, because even looking like a fool is worth it if it
makes her smile.







In fact, I'm going to spend the rest of my life doing everything I can just to see her smile.

A picture I sent in order to cheer her up

So, that was weird...

Since I got back from Louisiana, her and I have talked every night until it was really late in the evening. It looks like tonight is going to break that streak. I wouldn't feel so nervous about it, had it not been from the way our previous conversation ended.

We were talking about our most prized possessions and when it was her turn she mentioned two things given to her by him. Then, I just locked up, because I honestly didn't know what to say and wasn't going to be the one to change the subject. I only tried once by asking her if she ever listened to Armor for sleep, to which I didn't receive a reply. Her internet is shaky at best and I'm not even sure if she got it, so we were left with about half an hour of uncomfortable silence. I asked her what she was doing, which was an activity I thought she'd enjoy being alone with, so I excused myself to do a little bit of writing.

I wanted to write about why I had asked her if she heard Armor For Sleep. They've got this amazing concept album called "What To Do When You're Dead". It tells the story of a boy who was to hurt by everything around that he ends his life and tries to reach out to the girl he loves from the afterlife before moving on. I thought it was something we could both relate to.

I don't want her to think she can't be open with me, even about this particular part of her life. It's just that when this comes up, I really don't know what to say. I part of me is jealous for reasons I know are stupid. I also know what we have as well as how we feel about each other and neither one of our pasts could ever do anything to change that. I still can't help how it makes that small part of me feel.

That being said, my feelings in this situation aren't anywhere near as important as hers, because she's the one who survived it. I just want to be there for her in whatever capacity she needs and sometimes I don't think I do a very good job. When I finally got her back on gmail, she just said she was going to bed due to a horrible connection. The goodbyes were forced and awkward. When I double checked to make sure everything is alright, she said she was cranky and I dropped the topic. Then, we each said the word "Goodnight" and she signed off.

This is the first time that's ever happened and I really don't like it. Hopefully, the best thing to do here is let her have her space and she'll talk to me about it tomorrow.

My favorite performance

It's always hard to pick a piece that will actually works live in front of an audience. From my experience, they react much better if you've got some sort of visual hook, as opposed to just standing there and reading from a piece of paper. The longer I did it, the more I stated really getting into it and finding different ways to bring the words to life. When going to my stuff, I found Maybe Insomnia's... and I knew I had the chance to do something special. This is the only one I ever spent weeks practicing and I was excited when I finally had the chance to do it in front of a room full of friends and strangers.

The open mic I was frequenting at the time was in this blues club in Deep Ellum called Tucker's Blues. I loved this place, though it had difficulty bringing in a crowd for most of them. On this particular night there was only one other artist and she went by the name "God's Poet" and she was spectacular, though it was also thing thing I hated to follow with my dark, depressing early work. Luckily I had 7 supporters with me and they made up the majority of the audience.

I introduced myself and went right into my set. The whole thing is recorded, but I'm to lazy to see what order I did everything in. However, I do know I closed with this one.

To see a video of the performance, click here

Some people have asked me if I knew what each segment of the dream means. Yes, I do and if you've read more than a few pieces of mine you would, too.

Value

I'm sitting on my couch for what feels like one of the last times. Almost all of my memories from this apartment take place on this piece of furniture. While on its cushions I've had phone and email conversations which changed my life, played x-box, ate all of my meals and even slept on them more than in my bed. This is also where I've done all of my writing and recording. I'm going to be sad to see it go.

When you move as much as I have, you learn pretty quick just how little material objects mean in the grand scheme of things. I've been spending the last couple of days trying to figure out which of my possessions I have to take with me when I move to Tennessee this weekend. I can only take a car load of stuff, which means almost everything in my apartment is going to be sold, given away, or thrown out.

My essentials so far
-Laptop (It's the most valuable thing to me as it's my outlet)
-MP3 player (my therapist)
-Clothes (the law says I have to wear them and I like variety)
-One tote with all my collectibles (most are broken, but I don't care)
-Xbox 360 (it took me three years to get it back and it was a gift)
-My framed posters, paintings (I at least want something to look at)
-Boxes containing my DVDs and books (I get desperate I can get money for them later)
-Box of recording equipment

Things for sale/sold
-Couch (Though I will miss it)
-Dresser
-2 desks
-2 chairs
-TV
-TV Stand
-Bed
-2 tables
-Microphone (not actively pursuing the selling of it; if the potential doesn't buy it, I'm keeping it)

When I get my new place it is going to be pretty devoid of items meant for comfort and distraction. I'll probably have nothing more than a pallet on the floor, but at least my personality will be openly displayed and I'll be able to write. Actually, writing is probably all I'm going to be able to do.

Click here for a bonus video!
Today someone found my blog by searching "Davlin fucked" through Google. I'm not sure if that's awesome or disturbing.

Restless

It's currently 7:19 and I've yet to go to sleep. I've spent the time since I said goodnight to Ana reading Preacher and The Walking Dead until the sunlight began to seep in through the blinds in my living room. The truth is, I've barely slept at all since I came back to Texas. The second I did the bad dreams came back with a fury and waking up alone is proving difficult. I feel like a huge piece of me is missing, waiting several states away and I don't know if I can rest peacefully until it's returned. The good news is, I don't have much longer to wait until my time in limbo is over. I find myself laying on the couch at night wondering what the next chapter of my life is going to hold. At least one thing is certain, she will be an integral part to it and that gives me a future worth looking forward to.

Reflections on my time in California

Could Well Be In-The Streets

The flight to San Francisco was miserable and that's not just because the last time I had slept was over twenty four hours prior. I was really unhappy because I was about to be even further away from her, which made me miss her so much more. This was only a week after we told each other how we felt and the thought of the added distance between us was tearing me up inside. By the time I landed, acquired my rental car and set out to San Jose I was too preoccupied to talk with her consistently and it only added to by horrible mood.

After 2 hours of trying to navigate the California highways and another 30 minutes just trying to find a place to park the fucking car I crashed in my room above the blankets without a word to anyone. I awoke a little later to find an email and text from Missy wondering if we were still on for coffee that night. I confirmed and a little while later she was at my hotel.

First, let me tell you about Missy.

She was the second person to comment on my blog after randomly finding it and start to follow it regularly. Here's what she said back on Jan 14th, 2009 about "Confessions",
"Oh my God, you're telling my story too. You are not alone."
Ever since then we've built one of my favorite friendships through each others blogs, as well with comments and emails.

Talking to her in person was amazing. She told me things about her life she'd previously kept secret, while I went on and on about myself. When the night was over it was difficult to say goodbye, but we promised to keep in touch. It was the perfect way to spend the first night in a strange, new place and something I'll always treasure.

When I got back up to the room I texted with Ana until it was far too late to get any kind of restful sleep. This is my all time favorite thing in the world.

By The Time You Get This Message-Flobots

I awoke to the alarm a few short hours later, had a breakfast consisting of a Venti Mocha and found my classroom. I was rocking a suit and tie with the fedora and black jeans. I started having a conversation with the woman next to me until class started and, once it did, it was more fun than I'd ever had at my job. Also, Ana sent me a text letting me know she and her boyfriend had broken up and I was over the fucking moon. It was finally happening.

When class was over I went out and performed for an audience who'd never seen me before and it felt great. That night back in the hotel, we told each other we loved each other for the first time. The one thing I've wanted above all else for almost four years was finally mine and it was more than I'd ever dreamed. As always, our time passed too fast and we had to call it a night.

The second day of class was even better, because it dealt with film, something I'm extremely passionate about. Our project involved making a movie; which I fucking schooled and the teacher played to enormous applause from the class.

I made a lot of new friends, but there was a big difference between them and me. They were trainers and I'm a writer so we had completely different things to discuss when it came to talking shop. The business cards I'd handed out at the end of the day were for my site, not my employer.

One of my classmates came to the open mic to see me perform, which was also a fantastic show. The rest of the night was spent editing the piece dedicated to Ana so I could email it to her. She loved it and we stayed up talking until 3 in the morning, giving me an hour and a half before I had to start getting ready for my flight back to Dallas.

Boulders-New Found Glory

I thought about the last three days in a sleep deprived state while on the plane. I could feel the weight of what had transpired, each event heavy with long hidden truths. Finally, I knew what I wanted in this life and I decided then and there I was going to go after them.

When I landed the weather was awful and the roads dangerous. It took me a while to find my car in the parking lot and the warmest thing I had was my suit jacket...it did nothing.

I shivered in my car as I screamed at to "hurry and warm the fuck up" while trying to call my boss back. We talked briefly, before deciding I should try calling when I got off the streets. As I made the slow journey back to my apartment it finally dawned on me just how much I hate it here and it depressed me. I got Boston Market (mmmm) before I got home and the second I sat down to my food, my boss texted me to tell me she wanted me on a conference call immediately.

I looked at my plate and sighed sadly as I called in, immediately to be flooded with several voices in the middle of the conversation. I wasn't given much of an introduction and I never knew what the hell they were talking about, or why I was on the call at all. As always my mind started to wander, because work conversations have never been able to hold my interest. I was only half listening when my boss finally asked what I thought. I repeated some of the things I learned from my class and no one said a single thing to about my suggestions. At the end, when when my boss asked if I had anything final to add I said what I always did when I just wanted to be done with a meeting.

"No, I think you guys covered everything." Then I hung up and put my phone on silent in order to enjoy the things that interest me. Once I did, I realized I had no desire to ever go back to that job again.

See, I've said the trip to California changed me and it absolutely did, but in ways you might not realize. Here were the revelations I had in that short time.

1. I hated my job and was miserable there.
2. Being in a brand new city always makes me feel peaceful.
3. Coming back to Dallas doesn't.
4. I have a talent for making movies and it was what I wanted to do for a living.
5. Ana was the girl I'm going to marry.
6. Neither four nor five could be found in Texas.
7. As much as I loved four, it was number five which made me happier.
8. I have to find a way to be with her.

So, since then I've been working on the last one. It's been a crazy trip so far, but in the end it will be worth every struggle and tear.

The Twistinside-Everclear

While we were together...

That's about as far as I get when describing the time I spent with you. This is why I haven't written about it, because there are no words.

"That sounds like the best dream ever!"

Me: i did have an interesting dream last night

Ana : yeah?

Me: yeah, it took place on my birthday. a day i really fucking hate
i was at my party and a whole bunch of people showed up, including all of my ex girlfriends. I kept going from room to room looking for you
and i was surrounded by people but you were the only one i wanted there.
finally you showed up and i got to introduce you to everyone I knew and i was so proud to do so
we danced to no music and didn't care what people thought

Ana :it is just like me to be so fucking late. hahah

Me:yup
then we went to this massive theatre where I performed in front of a sold out crowd
it was awesome

A collection of some of the things I've said to you.

Intro:
I consider myself to be the chronicler of our relationship. I've got quite a few of our conversations saved because they're too good not to. Since you sent me something special tonight, I thought I'd do something to show my appreciation. Now, I know you love the arrogant side of me, so here's your gift.

A collection of some of the things I've said to you.

Sometimes, I think we both resort to our defense mechanisms to keep each other at a distance. It's like we're scared if we don't, our friendship will just fall into the same patterns as our previous missteps. Maybe I'm way off, but it makes a strange sort of sense right now.

But no matter how strong my feelings for you are, yours was the one friendship I wasn't willing to lose if you weren't interested. That's how I know this is real.

You can't push me away, Ana, so stop trying.

When other people touch me, I go numb...I don't feel it. but when you would describe things, it felt more real than anything else I've ever known

I told you about "doody boots", remember?

When the storms are raging around me, you make it easier for me to keep myself tethered.

I'm different with you, because I don't allow myself to become wrecked by a misunderstanding, because I'm comfortable enough to talk to you about them.

You've always been worth the wait.

You're better than you give yourself credit for.

Was it more painful when we talked, or when we didn't?

We're gonna end up spending that first day just studying each other and not keep our hands off of one another.

I hope I never stop falling and spend the rest of my life waking up to you and realizing how lucky I am that you love me, allow me to love you and that we found each other when the odds were very much against us.

We should probably talk about what we're going to do if the school doesn't go through until September. I'm excited because I would go to be close to you, but terrified because of everything I don't have a plan for.

I could be moving there soon, but I think I need to go to bed while I can still get three hours.

Ok, that was a little uncalled for.

I get to decide who I worry about.

Now, what you gotta do, is quit the jibber jabbin, reach deep down inside and find your emotional big wheel. Then ride it down the feelings expressway.

it didn't make me feel bad at all. In fact...it finally sunk in. I love you.

Want to know something I really enjoyed during our time together? When we were at city cafe with christina and talking about the growth of our relationship. We'd each take turns telling the story. I loved that, it was such a awesome fucking moment

All my action figures are packed up, the only thing I have on display is the card you gave me.

You were always my beacon in the darkness.

I never get tired of talking about how great we are together.

I release the pain...

because it's stupid.

Don't worry, I've got plenty of fight left (Revised)

To hear the soundtrack, click the song titles

Devil On My Shoulder-Billy Talent

I was at an old coworker's place tonight and he told me about how people at my old job really felt about me leaving. Here's what he said and a summary of my response to each.

"Come on, dog. They built that position for you and you just left them."

This is half true. My old job had a better position, which I applied for, but I wasn't a high enough rank so they refused to give it to me. Instead they drastically cut the pay and tweaked the title and sold it as a position built especially for me.

"They did a lot for you, though."

Yes they did and before I left I thanked each and every one of them for the things they did for me. That being said, they also did a lot of shitty things to me, too. (I'm not going to put them here) No one seems to realize how hard it was for me to go into that job everyday, but I did it for 3 years after everything happened and I was fucking done.

"They really liked you. They had plans for you, you were being molded and you just left. Look at it from their point of view"

I completely see where they're coming from, believe me I do. Of course they liked me; I'm fucking awesome. And as for them molding me, who said the vision they had for me was the one I did? I'm sorry if I fucked anyone over, but I'm done living my life based on what other people expect or want from me. For the first time in my life, I'm going to do what I want. Fuck anyone who has a problem with me doing so.

"They paid to send you to California and you just left them afterword. They're pissed about it."

And they'd have every reason, if I wasn't having to pay for the entire course myself. It's in payments, but they'll be getting that money back, so they've no reason to hold it over my head.

"Come on, dog. You're a full grown man. You've got yourself into this, gotta get yourself out."

Okay yeah, you're right and I'm fully aware that every one of the problems I've got right now are of my own volition. I get that and I'm not asking for anyone's sympathy. Not once have I asked for anyone's help financially, but at the same time I'm in no position to turn it down. However, any help or advice which will keep me from my goal and hides ulterior motives, I won't accept it. That's why my plan is to sell everything of mine I can. I'm not scared to sacrifice to get what I want.

I then asked if he might know anyone who would like to buy my mic and 20 minutes later the prospective buyer was asking me questions in person. We got to talking about my site, writings and recordings. Because I'm shameless, I performed a few pieces and I'm always astonished by how good it feels to let it out, especially after a lapse.

"That's what you need to be doing with your life." He told me.

"I'm working on it."

We talk for awhile longer before I give him some cards and head to the apartment. (I've stopped referring to it as home, that's in Tennessee) My MP3 player picked the perfect song for how I was feeling.

F.I.G.H.T-Unwritten Law

When I got back to the shithole I checked my bank account online only to find that two charges I hadn't accounted for hit and caused several tiny charges to overdraft today. Using the majority of the money my aunt and big sister had just given me in an attempt to fix it before the fees started to hit on each of them.
Again, I've just been fucked over, only this time I can't keep from smiling, because not only do I have her, but I was also offered a helping hand at the best possible moment. This too shall pass, right? So, fuck it, take us out Kanye!


Runaway-Kanye West
Even though there has been a surge in negativity on this blog, don't think for a second that I've given up hope. In fact, I'm currently working on one of the happiest things I've written. I'm also working on the sequel to my as-of-yet unpublished book. The working title is "I've no reason to dream" and it is the greatest love story ever told.

Distractions

Things are bad for me right now, worse than they've been in a long, long time. Every single day the situation worsens and I'm really struggling to keep my head above the water. With the bills adding up and their deadlines fast approaching, I can't help but think about it. Plus, my food supply is running low and I ran out of toilet paper on Saturday.

My point is, I feel so absolutely overwhelmed that my brain just clicks off and I shut down. People tell me what it is I need to do, but truthfully, they don't get it and they really don't understand what it's like inside my head. Advice is always so much easier when it's given on the outside and people can forget the problems the second they hang up the phone. Which leaves me here to deal with it all and I honestly don't even know where to start.

The first thing they tell me is to get temporary employment for a few weeks to get enough money, but that's honestly the last thing I think I need to do. For starters, I don't have the gas to make it back and forth to a job everyday. If I'm able to find something it will be at least a week before I get hired and several more weeks until I get my first paycheck, which will be well after all my bills are due at the first of the month and my car payment and insurance will be due shortly after. I can't stay here that long...this place is making me sick.

The only time I feel okay is when it's late at night and I'm talking to her. It's in these hours that the stress subsides and I'm allowed to smile, instead of crying my eyes out in between panic attacks.

She told me last night how she thinks I let the negative things in my life distract me from the good and, while I was definitely this way in the past, I don't know if this is still the case. If anything, I think it's the other way around.

Notion #1

Even the worst of days are made infinitely better when I end them talking to you.

I haven't felt like this...

since right before I checked myself into the hospital. My head is filled with horrible thoughts and this is the first time in my entire life writing them down has done nothing to alleviate their burden. It's just as well, I think I've run out of words right now anyway.
"And I've never felt alone until i met you."-Third Eye Blind

Back Home (READER DISCRETION ADVISED)

Recommended Soundtrack: Finding Home-Saosin (click title for song)

Sometimes it's easy to feel trapped. After this month's car payment I'm left with fifteen bucks and over 985 dollars in bills due before the first of April. Also, I was pulled over last night for thirty minutes a mere 60 miles from home. During this time I was repeatedly humiliated by the officer before he issued me a citation for going ten miles over the speed limit at midnight on a deserted highway. Perfect.

But this wasn't the worst thing that happened yesterday.

On the way here I received some bad news which also fucked me up on many levels. I don't want to go into the specifics of it, but it made every trip to a gas station painful as I watched my bank account bleed out through the pump's digital counter.

This wasn't the worst thing, either.

I awoke yesterday around 11 and looked at Ana who was also still fighting the sleep in order to experience every last second we had together. The realization that I was going to have to leave in two and a half hours finally set in and the tears began to fall. She scooted closer to me and pulled my bare skin close to hers. We were both naked in a way which went deeper than our lack of clothing. I looked into her eyes and my face contorted with grief.

"Don't cry." She told me as she placed her hand on my cheek, causing the beautiful pain in my gut to swell.

"I'm trying. It just fucking hurts."

"I know."

Then we were kissing, our tongues occasionally connecting which sent jolts of electricity through my veins. Eventually, none of the wishes we made for time to stop came true and we could no longer stay in bed. We both went into the bathroom and showered together for the last time. When I close my eyes now I can see the steady current of water and lather as it made its way down every curve of her flawless body.

The last thirty minutes were spent with frequent kisses, embraces and sad expressions. Then, we're standing next to my car where we told each other countless times how much we loved each other in between more kisses. When our time was up she gave me a look which told me she was about to break down before walking away. She couldn't bring herself to do so again as she got in her vehicle and drove past. When I got into my car I licked my lips, found I could still taste her on them and began to weep.

I was in the Burger King drive through when she called me.

"So, yeah. I lost my debit card and my car's almost out of gas."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the BP on the corner."

"Ok, I'm across the street, I'll be there in just a minute."

"Thanks. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I hung up and paid for my food before going to meet her. She wanted me to take her back to her apartment to see if she could find the card there. On the way we went over what could be done if it wasn't found. We had to wait outside because her room mate had the only key and didn't say much as we did, opting instead to hold hands in silence. She was trying to look anywhere but at me and I was busy studying her every movement.

When he got there we looked in her room but the card didn't turn up. I took her back to the gas station and put 10 bucks worth of gas in her car so she could make it to work and back. Now, the first goodbye was hard, but the second was brutal.

The first two hours of my trip back were hazardous because I had to navigate through a steady flood of tears. This is when all the other stuff happened and then I entered my apartment only to find shit had literally seeped through my bathroom ceiling and onto the floor. It was the perfect allegory for how I feel.

I'm sitting in my living room alone and it's even harder now because I know what's missing. When I close my eyes my mind keeps going back to those moments when we were in her bed, laying on our sides so we could stare into each others eyes. Hands glided over our nude forms while our mouths did some exploring of their own. That's when we found out together what it's like to make love. No matter what position we ended up in, our eyes remained locked into the others. The expressions which fluttered across her face were the most beautiful things I've ever been privileged enough to witness.

I've also seen what the distance between us actually looks like and with everything going on here...I'm terrified I'm never going to be able to make it back to her. It feels like my heart is riddled with hairline fractures.

So I have to remind myself that we're different. I love her so much that it's almost too much to contain and I refuse to let her go. I have to find my way back home.

The four happiest days of my life...

immediately followed by 14 hours of total hell. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay right now.
When you're sleeping next to me I've no reason to dream.
I'm now on an adventure almost four years in the making.

After that happens...

Earlier today I went to visit my mom and I was in a state of shock. She held me as I wept and told her everything. When I finally ran out of confessions I asked her what she thought.

"Well, I think you need to go and see her."

"I can't afford it."

"Don't worry about that; we'll figure it out, later. Right now you need to go."

Within 24 hours we'll be in each others' arms. After that happens the world can end whenever it wants.

My Spiel

You said you woke up in a dark place, something I'm all too familiar with. Then you proceeded to talk about the fears growing within; how nothing in this life is certain and at any moment everything could be ripped away. I say some things I shouldn't and make a promise or two I really have no way of keeping. As always, this only seems to make things worse.

My MP3 player suddenly plays "Low Fidelity" by The Spill Canvas (click title for the song) and a lot of its words hit home.

It's times like this when being 800 miles away from you and the wait until the distance is closed are almost too painful to bear, because I know sometimes all it would take is having me next to you to help ease your mind when my words fail to quell the storms raging inside you.

So, I call you, hoping maybe hearing my voice will do the trick. It doesn't. I'm a nurturer, Ana, and you know this. It's in my nature to try and ease your troubled mind and mend your heart when it is sick, but all this seems to do is cause you to become more agitated. Then you say something I won't repeat here which provides the final piece of the puzzle.

So, this is when I step back to let you sort through your thoughts as I figure out a better way to approach these kind of situations. While we are similar in many ways, we are completely different in others, especially in regards to how we deal with our emotions.

You say the friends who always make you feel better are the ones who are good listeners. Whenever you would come to me, I'd give you one of my spiels (as you call them) and my words would blow up in my face. I finally realize that I've been treating you the way I like to be treated, instead of being there for you in the way which brings you solace.

From now on, when you find yourself in the darkness this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to let you talk to me about it when you're ready and I'm simply going to listen to every word. Then, I'll type everything I want to say here,this way if you'd like to hear my spiel you know where to find it. I'll be more than happy to talk about it if you so choose, but if not at least we both get a chance to say what we both need to in a more constructive way.

I'll leave you with this...

You're right, many things are uncertain in this world, but what we have is not one of them. We've got just over 50 days left until we are together, and when looking back on how far we've already come, it seems silly to let the fears take over now.

Another thing you can count on?

I love you very much and want nothing more than to spend the rest of our lives together.

Notions #22

You are the woman I've been waiting for to dedicate all of my favorite love songs to.

Notion # 54

We probably spend more quality time together than most couples who see each other every day.
Sometimes, when there's no one else around, I smile.

Best. Picture. Ever.

Reflections on relationships past

I'd always joked how the girl I ended up with would have to work out in order to help me carry all my baggage. While this was made in jest, one simple fact remains; it takes a very strong and special kind of person to be able to last with me. In truth, I've never had a relationship last longer than 9 months. There have been 16(?) before now who tried and none of them had what it takes. I've also found that they fall into at least one of four categories and each of them had their own reasons for why we failed.

The Martyrs: This group has had a particularly rough go at life and it has left them tremendously scarred. They would hold me accountable for the transgressions of past boyfriends, which was the source of most of our arguments. The one thing holding them back is their past and they refuse to do anything to correct this problem, because nothing was ever really their fault. I used to be one of these and it was at least something we had in common.

The Saints: The Saints lived a life without any major traumas and this makes it impossible for us to relate to each other. It also meant that the tiniest problems would be blown out of proportion because they never had to deal with anything more complex than a flat tire or bad grade. They also have a strict system of values which I could never live up to.

The Saviors: These women saw me as a project; something to fix and mold into their idea of what I should be as opposed to accepting me for who I am. They were usually met with strong resistance on my end, which led to nothing but problems the longer we stayed together. I'd tell them the same thing I've been telling Christians for decades; I don't need to be saved.

The Unrequiteds: This is pretty self explanatory; either I wanted them and they didn't reciprocate, or it was the other way around.

After years of dating these types I thought that this was all I would ever find and just keep repeating the same relationships until I could no longer find any takers, but I was wrong. Turns out there is one girl who is not only perfect for me, but she's also the one I've wanted for almost four years now.

She's had an unbelievably painful past, but she refuses to let it beat her. Instead, she chooses to learn from what's happened and used it to become a stronger, and better, person as a result. Because of this we're able to connect and understand each other more than I ever thought possible.

If there's one thing this girl isn't, it's a Saint and I love her so much because of it.

The person I am is also the one she fell in love with, so she doesn't want me to change. She's not out to fix me, just offer an ear and support even when I don't ask. I'm starting to see the things about myself people have been harping on me about my entire life and every day I'm making progress on eliminating my flaws. The important thing here is, she lets me do this on my own, without nagging or throwing them in my face. Just talking to her makes me want to become a better person for both of us and this occurs naturally.

For the longest time I thought she was an Unrequited, but this is because the timing just wasn't right for us until now. We both still had several lessons to learn before we could truly make this work.

We spend our nights talking until we can no longer keep our eyes open. I've told her things about myself I'd never uttered aloud before and she's done the same. There's nothing quite like baring your soul to someone, only to find that not only are they free from judgment, but also find understanding and that they are somehow able to love you even more when you're done. Actually, it was only a little while ago when we said goodnight, leaving her to get a few desperate hours of sleep and me choosing to face the new day without any at all.

As I sit here and look back on all those who came before, I realize they all brought me here and helped prepare me for her. And let me tell you, all of it has been worth the while.

Nothing like the first time (An excerpt from my book)

I met Melissa at the beginning of my senior year. She was a friend of Shawn's and started hanging out at his place quite often. I hated her because she bitch slapped me once for saying a movie she liked sucked. It got to the point that if I knew she was over there, I'd just stay away.

It was one of the rare days I didn't have to work, so I was enjoying some quality time with my PS2 when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID, so I answered. It was Melissa.

“How'd you get my number?”

“Shawn gave it to me.”

“(Sigh) Great, what's up?”

She said she was going through a tough time and didn't know who else she could talk to. I still don't really know why that person had to be me, but I indulged her. See, this stuff always happens to me. Girls will have drama in their lives, choose me to confide in, I'll stick it out in hopes of getting somewhere with them and they move on when they get their self esteem back. Yup, I'm that guy.

For the next hour and a half she detailed how the guy she was seeing knocked her up, her mom just made her get an abortion and she broke up with the boyfriend due to how he handled it all. I didn't have any advice because these problems were way over my head, but I did my best to console her. I was able to make her laugh and we ended up having a pretty good conversation. Well, I mean, all things considered. I did find out one crucial detail about her. She was very, very damaged. Damaged equals irresistible, and irresistible always equals pain for Davlin.

Her, Shawn and I hopped into my truck one Friday and we went to the theater to see the movie Red Dragon. Over the course of the film she was drawing closer and closer. Her hand found mine. I edged my lips towards hers and they met. I heard the rest of the movie was awesome.

On the way home she drove me crazy by rubbing me through my jeans while Shawn sat right there, oblivious. I honestly didn't know what to think. I was seventeen at the time and she was only the third girl I'd ever kissed. I didn't spend nearly as much time analyzing the whole picture as I should have, because all I wanted was more action.

We started dating and since she was the only girl that showed any interest in me, I assumed we were in love. Mom, you really shoulda held be more when I was a baby. Anyway, it didn't take long for me to realize just how hard to deal with this girl really was. She had severe moods swings, irritability, an extremely short temper, doubts about us and incredibly low self esteem. It was like I was dating myself. She then started with the guilt trips and demands which get me every time.

It was a Wednesday night when she called me up and told me to come over when her mom fell asleep. I tried to explain to her calmly that since it was a school night that'd be damn near impossible to pull off.

“Just do it!” Click.

I managed to talk my Dad into letting me stay with Shawn, and his mom said that it was OK. That night there was a huge storm, but Shawn and I braved the weather to buy my first box of condoms. We went to four different stores because they were all locked up behind glass cases requiring assistance and we were too embarrassed to ask for help. Finally, we came to Albertsons and they hung loose on the rack. We grabbed them and searched for the cashier that would be the least traumatic to purchase them from, not even taking into consideration what it looked like, us being a pair of dudes buying them. A guy I knew, Tanner, (See: The breakfast that will live in infamy) was working and we went to him. He made small talk as he rang them up and everything seemed cool until we started walking out.

“Hey, boys! Good luck with those condoms tonight!” I fucking hate that guy.

Shawn and I laid up on the couches in his living room, waiting for his mom to go to sleep and the OK from Melissa. At midnight I got the text and headed to her place. I parked a block from the house, walked in the rain, jumped her fence, climbed onto the roof and into her second floor window, soaking wet. It was like an episode out of bad teen drama. We sat up for hours and talked. She showed me pictures out her scrapbooks and other stuff guys don't care about, but will feign interest in the hopes of getting laid.

It started to pay off, because we were going at it hot and heavy on her bed. My hand went south and hers returned the favor. We removed more and more clothes until there were none remaining. Oh, my god. It's finally going to happen. That's when the door burst open. This is how I met Melissa's mom.
“Who the hell are you?”

I stood up, bare ass naked and offered my right hand for her to shake. I then remember where it had just been and switched it with my left. “Hi, my name is Davlin. It's very nice to meet you.” Hey, it was worth a shot.

“I want you out of my house or I'm calling the cops.”

“Sounds good.” I didn't look back at Melissa, didn't even say a word of goodbye. I just grabbed my clothes and tried to dress on my way to the exit. I could hear shouting even when I got outside. It was four in the morning when I crawled into the back door of Shawn's place. I got a call from her telling me she was basically on house arrest and forbidden to ever see me again.

For a month our relationship consisted of seeing each other roughly fifteen minutes a day. That was only when she picked her sister up from school and if she went to the grocery store I'd meet her there. It's hard to have any amount of passion on that kind of schedule. Her mom eventually calmed down and things started to go back to normal. She was allowed to go to her school's football games and I went with her to one. When it was over I followed her and her sister to a park, got in the car and we all chilled. This lasted roughly ten minutes when she told her sister to get in the trunk. She then popped it and her sister climbed inside.

Melissa joined me in the back seat and straddled me.

“I want you.” She told me.

“Wait, what about your sister? She's two feet away!”

“(scoffs) Oh, she doesn't care.”

“(Muffled from the trunk) I really don't!”

Seriously, I can't make this shit up. It was one of the top ten weirdest situations I've ever found myself in. So I just ran with it. The song “Bother” by Stone Sour was playing on the radio. It's scary how much this set the tone for every sexual relationship I'd have from that point forward.

She started to kiss me, clothes came off, the condom went on and I was inside. I then got this really sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. These really bad images popped into my head. I felt ashamed, guilty, and just...wrong. Within seconds I was limp and crying and I didn't know why. This moment was the catalyst for me finding out the truth about my nightmares. Melissa pushed me away, pissed off. We dressed, her sister got out of the trunk, and they drove away.

I went home and had the worst dream I have ever had. The dream was seen through a first person point of view, but the edges were distorted, like looking through a fishbowl. In it I was extremely young and in my bed with my back to the door. It opened and I could hear movement behind me, along with the breathing. The mattress squeaked as it struggled to accommodate the new weight that lay down upon it. The breathing was now in my ear and on my neck. A hand touched my shoulders and I closed my eyes as I was pulled on my back. The voice said that it was OK. I opened my eyes, but I couldn't make out any details. It was all foggy, just like it always was. Suddenly, the image became clear and for the first time in my life, I saw the bastard's face.

I woke up in a cold sweat, scared and alone. I didn't know what was happening to me and felt like I was going to throw up. I didn't want to fall asleep in fear that the dream would return, but I also didn't want to be awake with the image still burned into my brain and the new found knowledge screaming to be analyzed.

Melissa's school started an hour before mine and she called me the next morning before she went in like she always did. She sounded distracted and was joking with her friends. I remember the laughter in her voice as she told me she didn't want to see me anymore. I could hear a guy in the background encouraging her and say that she was going to be with him again. I asked if it had to do with what happened the night before, she said it did and hung up.

My entire life I've fought with depression and, at times, suicidal thoughts. When I talk about the events that lead to them, they sound petty. I know the way my brain processes things is different, like it’s hardwired wrong. I don't know if it's because I'm bi-polar, or because my formative years were traumatic. You can call me over dramatic, but I'll call you an insensitive prick. Anyway, the events with Melissa and having the dreams finally make sense were just too much for me to handle. I curled into a ball on my bed and began contemplating how I was going to go about ending my life.

Then something happened that took me completely by surprise. My mom called me. At that point in time, we weren't really that close. I'd lived with her for ten years during my youth and we hadn't had one real conversation. The relationship I've had with my parents over the course of my life has been severely complicated. I could spend another two books delving into it, but I'm not going to bother.

She said she got this feeling that I was in trouble, then I told her I was going to kill myself. She picked me up within an hour. It was Friday, so she called me out of school and we started to drive to Glen Oaks, a mental hospital. The first real conversation I had with my mother was telling her about how I lost my virginity.

We got to the hospital and I answered questions, but refused to check myself in. I stayed with her for the weekend. We'd stay up and she would tell me personal things about her and vice versa. After seventeen long years I finally started to get to know my mother.

A few weeks later Melissa told me she had made a mistake and wanted me back. It takes me a couple of times to learn anything, so I got back with her. She invited me to her homecoming dance and I was looking forward to it. My mom took me out, and I got some nice clothes and a mum.

The night of the dance I met her at the school. The second we got inside, she vanished. I didn't know anyone at that school except Shawn and Natalie, but they were busy doing their own thing. I couldn't find Melissa, so I just kind of stood in a corner by myself. That's when fate decided to smile upon me. Two girls came up.

“Hey, aren't you Melissa's boyfriend?”

“I don't know after tonight.”

“Where is she?”

“I haven't seen her since I got here.”

“What a bitch, I can't believe she would do that. Why don't you dance with us?”

They sandwiched me in between them and began to grind up against me. After a couple of songs the one behind me asked if I wanted to see if we could find an unlocked classroom.

Why, yes. Yes I did.

It took us awhile, but we found one. It had to be a science class, because it had the big wooden tables instead of desks, which would soon be put to good use. The three of us started making out and did things my friends are still jealous of. That was my only experience with anonymous sex, but if you're gonna do something, might as well do it right. We finished up and I went back to the dance. Two seconds in and Melissa grabbed me to go and get our picture taken. I have a huge smile in that picture which wasn't because of her.

After that, there really isn't much to talk about. We kind of fizzled out and she broke up with me to go back to her ex again. At that point I couldn't have cared less, though. As far as I was concerned, I came out on top on that one. And on bottom. And to the side...

What's this here "Vote" button do?

I'm glad you asked, reader. It's your chance to vote for me in Blog Award's rankings. If you dig what I do, just click it.

Stupid things which get me overly excited #43

For Christmas last year I received a Chick-Fil-A calendar which I've never hung up. In truth, I simply don't like using calendars, they make everything seem too rigid for my liking. However, since I'm moving on the 28th of April, I want to spend the next two months marking off the days until I get to finally see her.

I flipped through it before I tacked it to the wall and checked out the coupons printed on the bottom. I immediately went to this month's to find it was a free large diet Coke. Boo.

Then I flipped to April and discovered that in 30 days I'd be able to get 8 free chicken nuggets, which got me overly excited.
This place has a way,
of poisoning my mind.
And I'm almost ready,
to leave it all behind.

The Lost Songs 7: A Day Late

Written: May 2007
Inspiration: A few people who've read this insist it's about suicide, but it's not. At the time, it was instead the most hopeful thing I'd ever written.
Significance: This was the first piece I posted here. I feel it is one of the top five best songs I've ever written and wanted to give those who haven't seen it a chance to in its final incarnation. It's also where I got the the name of my newest blog. Find the lyrics within and click them to find it.

A Day Late

My gas tank,
is almost runnin on empty.
And at times,
I think,
that the gauge is referring to me.
Cos I've reached the last leg,
the end of my rope.
The wounds have reopened,
and I am bleeding hope.
So what will it take to show you,
that I am trying to change?
I'd drive for miles and miles,
just to escape the pain.

Chorus:
Cos I realize,
what I lost.
A day late,
are all the battles that I've fought.
I know now,
never to take anything for granted.
Cos it's all gone.
And I'm just stuck here empty handed.
End Chorus:

But in this,
I've found love in living another day.
I've lost my faith but found my way.
Sometimes I wanna go back,
to when everything was perfect.
But how can you wish,
for something that never did exist?

Chorus: 1x

And I know I often act,
without reason or a rhyme.
Indulging in self destruction,
cos it helps to pass the time.
I get so overwhelmed that,
I wanna leave it all behind.
And a note of insincere apology,
just to give you some peace of mind.

Chorus 1x

Fin.

This is something I've wanted to do for a long time.

I've created a new blog, with two freshly posted pieces. It's dedicated to things I've only previously touched upon. It's called "Lost my faith, but found my way" and you can find it by clicking here or the appropriate button in the More from Davlin section.

Be warned, it's not for the faint at heart.
"I was hoping I could tell you this with two feet on the ground. But I don't think I can talk, because I'm not very stable right now."-The Spill Canvas

Doubts

Conversations with people I've known for years, yet feel more like strangers. Their words laced with dubiety and backhanded well wishes. They tell me I'm fucking up and throwing my life away. This I can deal with; it's when they get to talking about her that I start to get upset.

On the outside I'm calm, but anger and mild hopelessness begin to build just below the surface. They have no idea of course, which just goes to show I'm better at keeping this shit in than they ever gave me credit for. As they talk I give them the smile they demand, but it's one with a wholehearted "fuck you" hidden underneath.

I'm still trying to adjust to life without my two favorite vices. The first gets a little bit easier with each passing day, but the second continues to be a struggle. I have a hard time making any sense of my thoughts or feelings without it. It's all just white noise and I can barely type anything coherent.

I've spent a lot of time alone in my apartment lately due to lack of funds or people I actually want to be around. Instead I drive around downtown Dallas and find solace in the cityscape. The music pumping through my speakers serves as better therapy than I ever received on a couch in front of a paid professional.

When I was almost home tonight the song, "The Good Witch Of The North" by Everclear, came on my MP3 player. Immediately my head was filled with thoughts and images of her and all the negativity I've bathed in for the last several hours melted away.

So, yeah, you can doubt me if you want, but take a long look at yourself before you do. What happened which made you so jaded and quick to write off the wants of others? Why is it that you're not happy unless you're bringing other people down with you? Then, when you reach your conclusions, go ahead and fuck yourself because I'm sick of listening.

Davlin's Playlist: For Hilary

1. Me Vs. Maradona Vs.Elvis-Brand New
2. A Beautiful Life-Everclear
3. Again I Go Unnoticed-Dashboard Confessional
4. Save Yourself-Stabbing Westward
5. The Conversation-Motion City Soundtrack
6. Bound To Happen-The Spill Canvas
7. There Is No Mathematics To Love And Loss-Anberlin
8. How's It Going To Be-Third Eye Blind
9. Tiny Vessels-Deathcab For Cutie
10. All The Rest-Twiztid
11. Counting The Days-Good Charlotte
12. Glycerine-Bush
13. Days Go By-Adema
14. Empty Apartment-Yellowcard
15. I'm Not The One-3OH!3
16. Truth Of My Youth-New Found Glory
17. The Cave-Mumford and Sons
18. Savior-Rise Against
19. Do It For Me Now-Angels And Airwaves
20. Been Down-Blue October
21. Get Happy-Bowling For Soup
People have been screaming right outside my apartment for an hour now. I was about to go out and yell at them because it's so late, but then I remembered I don't have a job to wake up for and decided to let it go.

An appeal to my readers

I'm sitting in my apartment and I find myself wondering just what the hell I'm going to do. I have to find a job several states away and I have to do it fast enough to meet the massive amount of bills hitting me by the first of April. (I really hate that month)

But, here's the thing, while I can be a very hard worker, I'm not exactly qualified to do anything. You can't get a great job without first obtaining a piece of paper saying you're entitled to more money because you furthered your "education". I've tried going this route and we already know how that's working out right now.

"But Davlin", you say, "didn't you already have a relatively high paying job which required a degree, but they gave it to you anyway? Then you pissed away the golden opportunity you're now claiming you never get."

Yes, reader. You are correct and I must say I'm almost appalled with how comfortable you're getting with me to so readily point out my faults.

It's true, I did walk away from what most would deem a dream job. I did so because it wasn't my dream and I couldn't keep pretending it was. My heart simply wasn't in it anymore because it's already moved to Tennessee.

Now I'm sitting here and its absence is painful. (of my heart, not the job) Numbers flash in my mind, always followed by red blinking lights and alarms. I shake my head and the digits all fall to the floor with a crash that's almost audible.

When I think about the prospect of new jobs there's only one talent I want to be employed for and that's writing. It's the only thing which has ever mattered to me and is my motivation to get out of bed every morning. I've talked about it for almost a decade now and all I've ever heard from people is that it's not a real job. I'll never be able to survive off of it. To which I've always asked, "Why not?"

They have their points, of course. These last few weeks alone have shown me just how impulsive and idealistic I can be. But I've found strangers who get something out of the words I arrange and place for them on the internet. In fact, once they find my stuff they keep coming back. This leads me to believe that if I only had a way to reach a bigger audience there would be nothing to stop me from making this my career.

Unfortunately, this is something I can't do alone. I've spent months whoring myself out and, while it has helped a bit, only gets me so far. I've noticed over the last several years that if I can't do it on my own, it's not going to happen. I'll be honest, living this way has exhausted me. It was only when a select few started standing up to have my back that I saw what I was capable of.

And that's exactly what I begging you to do, in my own roundabout way. See, I'm going to start re-writing my book to incorporate some of the newer pieces and it's going to be perfect. By the time it's finished it would really improve my chances with an agent to have impressive numbers for this blog. This is where you come in.

Even if you and I have never spoken, I've shared a lot with you. This forms a very unique sort of bond and I really hope you understand what I'm talking about. If you do, then I have a favor I'd like to request.

I've asked this before and I'm going to keep doing so until it sticks. If you have ever been moved by anything I've written here, I just want you to tell people about the experience. Explain to them how the piece made you feel or think and then direct them to it. Then, if they find anything they relate to, have them pass it on. That's it. I've written enough here that there's literally something for everyone. Now, I just need your help getting it to them.

Every year we make instant celebrities out of people online with far less talent than me. Why can't it be my turn?

My recent stint in Dallas: A recap

In a few weeks I'm leaving Dallas for the second time. It's not the way I expected, but it is the one I've always wanted. Sitting on my couch, the last 4+ years flash before my eyes.

Breaking down the second I walked into my aunt's house after the two day move from SC.
Having to find my own job, because my old district manager couldn't be bothered to put in a transfer request.
Going to a haunted house with my dad and being astonished by the disconnect.
Getting my first apartment and sleeping on a bed of my own for the first time in years.
The naked, drunk girl in my bathtub who ruined my job.
The cold, unfeeling girl from South Carolina who broke my heart while visiting. Also, my brakes going out on the way back from dropping her off at the airport.
A lead on a new job from a regular at work, which I was ultimately offered.
I start taking writing seriously and practice with several different styles.
Old friendships being mended.
Awkward glances and Myspace coversations.
Two different paths with the wrong one taken first.
The beginning of a tumultuous relationship built upon secrets and half truths.
My power being cut off for the first time and reading to her by candlelight.
A call from a girl in a Walmart states away I'd never met before which changed my life forever.
The time in the shower which also did the same.
The conversation that same night which brought the world down around me.
The later to be room mate from hell fucking me over by quitting our job, thus leaving me with out a ride.
Living with them at the worst possible time.
Signing my soul away on a car note which also sent me crawling back to blockbuster.
Taking her to a party with my family, she didn't say a word to anyone.
A Christmas eve she and I spent together and her gift putting mine to shame.
Walking out on a shift at Blockbuster, effectively burning my bridge in the process.
Her buying tickets to a horror convention where I got to meet Robert Englund. This equated to two days of miserable and two minutes of fucking amazing.
She goes to a party and meets someone else who makes me obsolete.
Laying next to each other on her bed in silence for an hour before she broke up with me.
Finding out through her Myspace blog she was happy with someone else. This is when everything fell apart.
I started getting sent home because of the crying fits.
She came by and we tried to have sex. I was, however, unable to perform and it only added to my problems.
Me going off on her through gmail before coming back with my tail between my legs the next day.
Going with her to the Everclear concert, having sex the same night and being ignored the next day during the company picnic.
I started seeing a therapist, who said she couldn't help me.
Dad read a blog of mine and threw what I said back into my face.
I went home that same night and sat down with a razor blade and argued with a voice in my head.
A week later I went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me as bi-polar and paranoid schizophrenic, with anxiety and depression issues to round it all out.
The prescription he gave me was 60 bucks for a weeks supply, made me feel funny and he never returned my calls.
Spent five days in the mental hospital.
It took a doctor's note for them to finally move my desk at work.
Hooked back up with Allison again after my release, falling into the same old patterns.
We'd had sex once a month since we'd broken up and it was her who ended it that fall.
Someone told HR they thought I was going to snap and they called in a crisis team to talk to me.
She kissed me once and I wouldn't allow my eyes to open until after she'd left.
Spent an exciting and informative day at the free clinic.
I started putting all my time alone to good use by working on my first book.
The next several months were a cathartic process.
A promotion swept me away from my old department.
Began a regimen of pharmaceuticals in hopes they would help fix what was wrong with me.
Starting this blog.
I moved in with my aunt and away from the memories which haunted my first apartment.
Sporadic conversations with Ana, still states away.
Started working on "Harbinger" as a comic.
I completed the first draft of the book.
Moved in with an old friend, who soon became the room mate from hell.
Created OK Cupid account.
Met cute girl who was into me until she found out what I had.
Pitched my book to a real agent and failed horribly.
Deleted OK Cupid account.
Artist on "Harbinger" abandoned his post.
After a traumatic night, I quit taking my prescriptions and started smoking cannabis instead.
At the encouragement of a dear friend, I started performing at open mics. These quickly became the only thing which got me through the week.
I ruined things with the dear friend and will probably never be able to repair the damage.
I started looking deep inside myself and resolved to fix the problems which I'd been running from so long ago by myself.
Living with the room mate began taking its toll.
Started going to Tucker's Blues for their open mics.
Created another OK Cupid account.
Almost jumped into a relationship which would have been wrong for me.
Mark passed away and I lost the brother I'd never had.
Jumped into a relationship that, while worthwhile, was wrong for both of us.
Things with the room mate were reaching a boiling point.
Girlfriend and I broke up.
Room mate ditched me.
I received another promotion which not only gave me financial stability, it also opened several doors.
I began recording my works as audio.
Learning how to live with the curse.
I needed a place to put the audio so I built an entire website.
During this time Ana and I started talking more frequently.
I finished the site and begun the never ending task of marketing.
Started a music project with a coworker which never led anywhere.
Began growing disenchanted with my new position at work.
Finally attained a new car, which is also one more thing to tie me down.
Conversations with Ana grew in intensity and all the feelings for her couldn't be contained any longer.
I told her I was falling for her.
After some time, she told me she also had feelings for me.
I no longer wanted to be in Texas.
Her and I talked every night, sometimes until the sun came up.
Work sent me to California, where I attended the multimedia course which changed my life.
While in my hotel bed, we told each other we loved each other for the first time.
I take a picture of the bed and post it.
After landing in Dallas I realized nothing about my life here made any sense.
While iced in I applied for film school and quit my job right before it fell through.
After only a few minutes of panic I decided to move to Chattanooga to be with her.
I said goodbye to Allison in the best possible way.
During my entire last day at work I was reminded why it was time to go.

Now, I'm sitting here and the clock is winding down. I know what I want, but there's a lot standing in the way right now. The truth is, this has the potential to ruin everything for me, but she's worth the risk. I can't think of a single other thing on this planet that is to me.

Whet

I've found the person I want to devote every day of the rest of my life to loving, but as with anything that truly matters, it's been a little complicated. First off, she lives several states away. Second, we've never met face to face.

When I tell people this they question just how well we can actually know each other. This is when I point out to them how I've seen them face to face for years and they don't know me at all. But she does. We've confided things in one another which we'd never dare to tell another person. The most honest conversations I've ever had were with her via text messages at three in the morning.

I've also seen countless pictures and I've never been attracted to anyone on such a primal level before. I've been able to deduce every expression on her face by studying it through still images. It's hard to write about without coming off as creepy or obsessed. Anyway, to compensate for the lack of physical contact we send each other lots of them, but I want to talk about one in particular.

I remember when she sent it to me. She told me she loved my imagination and wanted to see what the picture would bring out of me. The thing is, though, all of the thoughts the image inspired are the types I can't share with you and still keep the family friendly nature of this blog I strive so hard to maintain.

The picture itself shows absolutely nothing, but everything I want to see is right there, just out of view. It's the hunger for what's not exposed which keeps me from looking away. The anticipation starts to build as I think of all the senses we have yet to indulge.

I cannot wait to learn her every contour using nothing but my fingertips. To feel the warmth of her breath on my neck and her body as it presses up against mine. Hundreds of sensations as her hair falls onto my face, before she brushes it away and...

She's finally able to look me in the eyes. It's this moment, the right before, I long for the most. That silent instant where we say everything we've been unable to with our primitive words in a single glance before she cuts the light. After that, time melts away as we finally try all the dirty things we've been aching to do to each other.

In the meantime, though, we can use our imaginations to come up with more.