Dear Brandon

Dear Brandon,

Hey. How the hell are you buddy? It's great to see you again. I see you're dancing well. From what I hear you're trying to learn to BBoy. I hope that is going well for you. Though it's only been one session, I'm sure you'll pick it up far too quickly for comfort and will struggle with your own self-doubts as you climb the ranks of the dance world.

School sounds like it's going well. You sound pretty confident in how you did in your exams though I know there's still room for improvement. A minor emotional speedbump can't bring you down. It's all bout you these days, remember that.

You're learning to play the bass?!?! You may soon elevate yourself to the status of sexiest man alive if you bring yourself to put on deodourant and cut your fucking hair and shave your scruff. Or at least wash that blasted mop. Meh, whatever makes you happy I guess. Man, I sound like your father sometimes.


Get good at the shit you want to do and stop doing things you don't like to.

Peace,
Brandon

Letter A. This's gonna be hard. And, not hard.

Dear Tess,

Those are words I thought I would never write. The reasons even I don't know. The paper (and the keyboard) pull the truth from me. So much power.

I started writing this while high on A line on my mother and father's porch area. Somewhere I know you've been. I love you, keep this in mind as you read. I truly, fully hate that I love you, somehow. You needed me. Note the underline.



What do I want to say. The love that I have felt for you has stood many tests. The test of time, the test of relationships, the test of distance, relationships, logic, and so on.

Unfortunately, my steam has run out-ish, so I'll try and make this quick.

In the nude, with a candle burning to my left I try to put into words thoughts, thoughts and emotions. Not an easy task.. Our situation was different. It was meant to be all that to people's bond could be, all that one never could be. And, that's exactly what it ended up being. All that never could be. Perhaps that was the attraction for both of us. My eyes are blurred, I'm listening to Neil Young. He's pretty kickass.

I thought for-ever that I couldn't live without you. Lately I've realized that I always have been. Hmph.

There will always be a spot for you in my van. Unfortunately, sleep wins. For me anyway. I truly hope you're okay. If not now, then someday. I wrote out a cd for you. Not cool.

I'm very angry with myself that this didn't go longer than it did, but I've run out of things to say.

My upbringing was a sort of mixed bag from caregivers. Near overcare from my mother and none from my father. You kind of fit that bill. Very there sometimes and impossible to reach others. I don't need that. In fact, it makes me hurt. From my face to my soul (feet, haha?). Wish me luck. Find yourself. Somewhere.

Love,
Brandon

Hmph

On my way home this evening, I was trying to figure out how to start another post, wondering why I've been having trouble writing lately. I came to an oversimplified conclusion that revolves around the fact that my once fluid writing was mostly concerned with two things. Drug trips, and adventures. Let's call them drugventures. Theses are much easier to write about than why I'm having trouble succeeding in any aspect of my life. (That was a blatant exaggeration, but the point is the same. I have simply been having trouble beginning new relationships of any kind)

I have come to several conclusions today. The first of which took place today during my personality class, where I learned many things. I learned about certain kinds of attatchments today from a psychologist that worked very closely with Freud. A very wise man that taught me that I'm either an avoidance-attatchment individual who's relationships are filled with extreme highs and lows with a lack of trust.... The other is eluding me at the moment but involves an ease at falling in love with a lack of belief in the commonness of real, true love. Part bull shit, part hard hitting. Mostly, I learned that some of my inability to have a meaningful relationship at this moment in my life stems from an inconsistent caregiver. Or, in my case caregivers. My mistake I guess.

Another massive issue that's been chewing up much of my positive energy is this damned Tess situation. I just don't know what to do with myself. I love her, this much I'm sure of. Part of why stems from my nature as a nurturer (funny words together), she is someone whom I believe needs nurturing. I believe she's someone who'll be there when I need her and let me be when I must, among other things; me. I feel stupid for caring for someone that's so damned far away. I meet women on a daily basis that I'm on some level interested in that are clearly interested in me. However, I shun them aside because of Tess. But, her inconsistency in terms of being there when I need her, seems to be continueing the cycle of caregiver/me interactions. But, that's not necessarily a bad thing, becuase ... yet again, more nurturing. Helping one another. Helping ourselves. I think we'd help one another to grow and change, but as I write that, I feel like I might be investing too much and scaring her just by thinking this.

I am Brandon's inflated sense of paranoia.

I don't think I smiled today. That's a scary thought, but I've learned that it's not about being happy all the time, it's about learning from the sad moments in your life. A circle is perfect, but the earth isn't round. Life is a spiral that's always heading upwards, with each detour from your path pulling itself back in with knowledge and learning. So long as I learn from something, I don't see anything as a bad experience, but I sure as fuck am not enjoying this period in my life. Indecisiveness sucks ass.

We are Brandon's fingers, and we're done for now. Much better.

Good Morning Dave.

I woke up this morning with an overwhelming sense of sadnaess surrounding me.

Up to this moment in my day I can't still place it. It, I believe, primarily revolves around the fact that I'm incapable of dealing with the women in my life. Dealing was the wrong word. I'm incapable of many things. One of which, in my opinion, is not being able to be friends with a woman anymore. I feel that every move is romantically centerred and read too far into everything. By the same token, I don't want to get into any sort of relationship where there's any sort of certainty for a future becuase of one in Prince George. Whom I can't get ahold of and am supposed to be going to see in a couple months.

Further complicating this process is the fact that I'm nearly twenty-two years old. I'm lonely as fuck and am self destructing via relationship destruction. My friends are drifting away leaving me more and more time to myself, which is never nice. Guess I can just.... Cope.

Brandon is...

Not sure what the fuck he is doing. This is mostly a note to himself. Write tomorrow.

Poems From Shambhala

I'm not as crazy as I appear. I can't believe I wrote that.

While in line, shortly after a ripper of a terrible drug:

puking

passing parts of me

through my gaping mouth

i realize the errors of myselves

also truths

free am I

In the tent at the end of the Wednesday? Thursday? I don't know. The first night anyway.

paranoia my old friend

well, welcome

fear is something

everything is nothing

After I'd come down from the unspeakable drug that I wish I never tried, and am glad I did. This is one of my favorites. Hopeful in a way.

dark at camp

a time to reflect

ponder

wonder

hope

reaching forward, looking back

through the glass I see myself

not myself

another me

Back again

hear the cries

I'm just gonna put my favorites down

walking down the darkened path

I had a lot to say

too fuckin tired

hittin the hay

tomorrow's a new day, hooray!

in scribbled handwriting

ketamine rants

world aspin

darkness comes

BORN AGAIN

A man walks by in a green top

among the tents, I'm no one

we are the same

I walk past a man in a tent

To live without food

to dream without sleep

we don't wanna frolic

we just want to enjoy the earth

shambhala

expand your mind

and your legs

greg, in reference to... nevermind

if you dipped your dick in hard glue

stuck glass to it

then fucked your nose with it

that's how snorting a green sweet tart would feel

you'd be fucked up

MORE TO COME

He sits down once again

If you look in the top bar of my uber-awesome internet explorer version 9.654 build 200532, you'll usually see at least two things. One of which starts off with my face and ends in a book, the other is my hot male. Wow, both of those sounded considerabley better in my head and seemed a little ridiculous when put to "print". Today, I've decided to add another. Blogger, with that kickass "B" that I've always associated with my own names.

I have been lonesome lately. I really only have two people I've let into my world lately and they're both either working, being a bitch, or annoyed with me for constantly calling them a bitch. Go figure.

I wrote my last final of the term today. Psychology. Summer classes blow. You wanna know the one thing that I learned? Of course you do. Don't skip class. There was some shit on that exam that I'd never heard of. Go figure.

What the hell am I going to do with myself now? I've realized that I already had too much time on my hands, and now I have even more. Perhaps hiding from myself won't be as easy this summer as it had been in past ones. Hopefully I get to come face to face with the person that I face in the mirror (or any reflective surface I happen to pass. I'm pretty). A hobby? I hate hobbies. Also, I like the hobbies that I already have and wouldn't want to make them jealous by adding another. Contradictions contradict themselves, and as a result; me. Go figure.

You see, I'm using a literary device called repetition to emphasize a point. I'm doing things that I know are wrong, and am; through this simple medium, bringing them to my attention. Hey, was there a ... shit, what the hell's it called... . subjective conjucture? Fuck it. Moving on. Brandonbrown is on the journey of self discovery. It's called life. It sucks sometimes, especially when you don't like the person that you let the evil bitch from hell turn you into.

I've become more and more aware of how judgemental I've been as of late. I see people, and boom; from inside my head comes some asshole comment. Fortunately I have a filter between my mind and my mouth these days, but hell. Where the hell are these thoughts coming from. Of course I know the answer to this and could explain mostly what part of the brain it's coming from and the probable events that lead up to this change in how I view people, but that question... up there. . . was more of a statement of surprise and not a desire to have it answered.

As a result of this hyper-judgementalness (new words rocksman), I've been self-punishing myself the way lil' dave used to cut me down for being an idiot. Self-punishing was not the right word. What I'm doing is trying to find my insecurities that are, not forcing, but causing me to judge people so and correct them. I hope this leads me to grow as a person. I'm sure it will.

Go figure.

Discontent

I have alone'd myself once again. I shall see you soon. Regardless of what that means, that's what it means.