OFF THE RECORD

I cuss a lot. In other news, I have adorable pets.

Kevin Matisyn/Evans Blue, Part 1

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and for the record, most times hearts break in unison

There’s a trauma station and it’s overflowing with the wounded. They hold their hands on the infected areas, the ones that hurt the most. Some have trouble walking, others are seeing double, while others are having trouble breathing. They are a sorry lot to say the least, you’d think they’d triage those lost souls and help those who are feeling it the most. Sometimes the pain is so intense that if it was gone you’d miss it, you’d wonder how you survived without it. You’d wake up in the morning and feel like getting out of bed for a change, you’d feel weightless and it wouldn’t seem right. You’d want to go outside and be seen by the world. You’d want to do more than just sit in your room and write idiotic stories that make no sense. The thoughts that you wasted on her would be gone and you’d think to yourself, “who was she, what did I love about her anyways, how did she control so much of my mind?” You’d of course have no answer because your tiny brain has given up on those conundrums. One more time you’ve had to give up on those feelings that you loved so much. You tried though and I think you should get an A for effort and a gold star pinned into your forehead. If placed right it may eliminate that last little remnant of hope.

Your head used to be swimming in the blood that poured from your heart, I mean, it has to go somewhere, the blood that is. We sure as hell can’t have it pooling up in your stomach now can we. So it goes to the place that is used the least in times like these, the part of your brain that reasons, the part that looks past the present and revels in the future where it can be allowed to run the gambit again. If you ask me, it’s probably living in a fantasy world, cuz you haven’t given way to reason in ages. Have you ever come close to drowning in blood? It’s kind of an odd thing to die by something that is such a lifeforce. The thing is when love and hate collide hate always wins, it’s almost like it has the ace up it’s sleeve. I’m pretty sure it cheats to win, it’s undefeated, you know something’s amiss. The bouts could be rigged, that is a definite possibility, maybe love made a deal that it would go down in the first round in exchange for all the hookers in NYC. I really don’t know.

There’s always someone in control and we all know that you are the last one who should have that honour. You are more of a co-pilot on this mission and you’re still trying to earn your wings, better yet you’re a passenger who drinks too much and talks too much and is just too much. Either way, we’re cruising, but the auto pilot was smashed by terrorists a long time ago. They were smooth and exact and they escaped, I think we got one in the leg with our hollow tipped bullets but I’ll never know, I was aiming through eyes that were blurry. So we hired a mechanic, but he came to work high so we axed him right before first break. We soon realized that he was the only one with the tools to fix this foreign piece of equipment. The mechanic was with the union you see and they’ve been on strike for something like 25 years now. There may have been some scabs willing to cross but you shooed them out around the same time you threw away the manuals. It’s quite the predicament.

Wasn’t there something about happiness somewhere amongst the dirty books and the dusty manuals in the back of your mind. I clearly remember a time when the word happy was in my vocabular, but since then it’s been removed from my mental dictionary. I made sure with the clerk that this one was the latest edition, he must have lied, they always lie to get a sale. Oh well, we can always look up words that will remind us of better time. I think we can all use a little nudge to remember those “better times.” You know there’s death and there’s taxes but I think I’m more afraid of time. Not only can we not escape time but it can have a lot of fun at our expense. Then when we’re on our death beds, we’re begging for more time. Right now I’m begging for less, or for it to speed up for a change, but now I want it to slow down. The thing about time is that it is never right, it is never flowing the way we want and I think it likes it that way. I made a deal with time… let’s just say the hookers in LA are still there.

excerpts

I could write a thousand words to describe perfection but each word would lack the proper qualities to paint the proper picture. Besides, paint. like anything fades over time along with hurt, sadness and shame. There’s something meaningful in there… believe me.

Lift your eyes to the sky and see how the sun burns red, yellow, orange, red, yellow, orange. I find if I stare long enough I see black and that’s all I want to see right now. They say black is all color infused into one. So, maybe there’s beauty in black and all its run together colors, and maybe there’s beauty inside the sand and the sun, and maybe there’s beauty inside the guy who’s running things and maybe there’s beauty in me.

You throw around I love yous like bread crumbs are thrown to the birds and then you wonder why you get chased away by the crazy lady with the umbrella. … You glue it together with the words you speak on the first night and the sweat the pools in your back. You wonder why when you stand your desire on top of it, it falls to the floor along with you. You always seem to end up on the bottom and you always seem to stay there way too long. … The romance leads you to a snare and the boredom will be what lets you out. … Life moves on behind you and you gotta stop wasting it on a notion. A vision leaves an indentation on your mind but you can always fill it up with something more concrete than the idea of love at first sight and at first touch you just need a reason to.

Step backwards because you have a better chance of running the rest of this race with your back facing the direction you’re going. It’s really the only way you can see where you’ve been. I could hold your hand but what happens when I fall, and I will fall. … If you’re too afraid to open up let’s take a stroll over open water, it makes the shallow end seem more terrifying and more chilling. You’re fascinating; so come and wake me up and let me be enough by being what I am. … I dream my world in white and color my eyes with blue I still won’t shoot until I see the white and blue in my eyes. I still won’t shut my mouth until I hear the faith in the air.

He hits the ground running and decided that nice guys finish last but wonders if the last guys finish nice.

She whispers into his hears that she loves him, and he smiles, all the while knowing that it may be the last time he hears it from her. The moon reflects off of the tears in his eyes but he chokes them back, she whispers to him that it’s ok to let them out and kisses the palm of his hand. She holds onto him and as her eyes close for the last time, he holds onto her and he breathes in sync with her, like he’s done for the last 50 years until his is the only breath that is left.

when you look into the mirror, you see life pour out [excerpt]

I know memories have a way of burning inside if you don’t let them go, if you don’t swat them away from those corners that are darker than the hallway.
This is not the answer you’re looking for, that’s a promise.
In a daze you’ll think… this is where I will lay, this is where I will find peace, and this is where I will say, “farewell ruin, I never loved you anyway.”

Sometimes our home can be the furthest thing from one.

stop and say you love me

She is beautiful, I remember when I first saw her I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I woke up one morning so early and I thought about her for hours, I tried to sleep but all I could do was see her face and think about the next day, the day I was going to see her again, it turned out to be the day we kissed for the first time. So here I am now and things are feeling weird and a little unnatural. She is so different than anyone else I’ve ever met, she is something special in this world. I really want something with her but I don’t even know where to start. Our first time together I looked at her I saw firelight; it reflected off the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen and I lost myself in them. If I know me and I know the past this will end soon, the only loop hole here is some kind of redemption from my recent history. I know deep down that things will be better when she is by my side. My only hope is that I figure that out soon enough to create an impact.

You see, love is that thin line between infatuation and complacency. Now, that being said I can surely say that I would only like to say it once more in my life, will you listen if I do? Do you think that you could lose yourself in me? I am growing closer to being able to say that I could die by your side one day. I feel a lot right now, but I don’t know if I can ever tell her, is it too soon? What is the time frame? I’ve heard that great things happen all at once, is this one of those occasions? She may run away, she may laugh, but she might say it back. I don’t know if I can risk it just yet, too many good things have ended too soon from the wrong words spoken. I’m not sure the words exist that mean enough to me anyway. If I stay this way and keep this outlook we’re gonna burn together and lose each other together.

The real problem is that I am so guarded from the past. I’ve been dropped so many times that I’ve become fragile and weak. The more I see you, the more I realize that if there is anyone in this world who can save me from myself, it’s you, and I know you can. There is so much spinning around inside my head that I just have to yell out STOP. I need to hear you say you love me always. It’s only this once that I ask you to say it first and i will say the same to you, I promise. I hope you know that it is not your fault, and you are more than enough to get me past the past. If you’re strong enough and you can see that I’m enough you can speak those three little words that mean so much. Only time will tell, and I can’t wait, so tell me now, my love.

hope in hopeless times

We’re so static, but we’re so fluid. We really don’t know what we are or how strong we can become until we are shaken. Our house of cards faces the tremendous vibrations and ultimately collapses onto the table. The remedy lies within the heap of glossy cardboard and air pockets. You have spent years building, but remember that one fact will always remain prevalent. It doesn’t matter how many times our creation topples; we are always left with the same base. It is true that the number of cards will differ, some will get wedged in that little area between the fridge and stove, some may fall off the table and slide to unreachable depths, while others will get taken away in the passing breeze never to be seen again. We will prevail in the end. We will find new ways to build, we will find new ways to lean the cards, stronger ways, ways to maintain integrity despite the loss. You’ll be surprised at how resilient it will become, it will keep out the elements, it will keep out the sadness this time, I am sure of it.

So stay vigile and stay on your toes. No matter how hard it seems or how dejected you feel, you can always find a way to pick up that first card. You can pick up a second and a third, a fourth even, until you’ve maxed out at whatever you were left with. You will sit back and look at the house that sits in front of you and forget about how it looked when it fell. You’ll forget how devastated you were. You will notice that some things are missing, some cards are gone, but you will realize that this can work out this time. Besides, the missing cards can never be forgotten, they were a part of you once and their absence will remain inside you, and that will be okay. The pain and the pleasure will take a back seat; for my hope lies not within the strength of the walls but within the power I have to rebuild them.

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Written by Kaci Johanna

February 18, 2008 at 2:05 pm

Posted in By Kevin Matisyn

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