Monday, October 29, 2012


Some thoughts that have crossed my mind more than a few times...

Is it possible that, like light, our actions have already occurred and we are only perceiving them now because of time? Is it possible that we are already dead?

Maybe death is when it all comes together, where time has no relevance but also where time means everything. So without life, death means nothing. And without death, we cannot see everything come together. 
Is death one instance, or does it expand? Is there life in death?

Maybe in life the universe is us; in death, we become the universe.
And what if we are all one being? What if it is just me? Who is "me"? Who are you? Are you me? Am I you? Maybe we are all part of one being, but we stop at different points. Maybe some people have stopped at similar points; some are behind; some are ahead. 

I want to believe that it all comes together in the end, if there is an end. Maybe time itself doesn't exist. Maybe it moves and moves but goes nowhere. Maybe we have already unknowingly, blindly found what we keep trying to look for. Maybe we have arrived.


Maybe it's all so simple.




The only thing that I can prove is that my mind is real.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

It's strange, I'm here again, in another place that only feels temporary. I've been stuck in a place lately where I am unattached to most things around me. In the past few months I've found a lot of places to call home. Or, maybe, it hasn't been so much as the places, but more so the people--I've found home within a lot of people. And I'd give the world to be with them all at once.


Tuesday, April 24, 2012



"And oh, the wretch is gone
And oh, the sorries begin
And oh, the drinking has thinned
Oh, still I wrestle
I wrestle within

And then to you

I don't look so good
Like I did what I felt like
Like I did what I would

But I don't have my dog

And I don't make a sound
I live on an island
In the middle of town

So if you've got a thing

With me or my friend
Remember what we've been through
Remember where we've been

We don't have our dogs

And we don't make a sound
We live on an island
In the middle of town

And oh, the wretch is gone

And oh, the sorries begin
And oh, the drinking has thinned
Oh, still I wrestle
I wrestle within

And then to you

I don't look so good
Like I did what I felt like
Like I did what I would

But I don't have my dog

And I don't make a sound
I live on an island
In the middle of town."


-"The Island Song" by Chris Garneau

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Somewhere between something and nothing lies the heart of my existence, beating slowly, steadily, monotonously. I don't know where my feet are going, or if they're going at all. My head is light and thoughtless; my body is pulled to nothing, and I am stuck. I don't know where to go or even how to move. And I thought that maybe this had all been over, that things were bright again, but that passed, and now I'm here wondering why I cannot move and hoping that someday I'll be able to go again.