switchin lanes

i don't recognize this street.
it has too many girls riding shot gun and he's goin 50 in a 25.
but i squint to see who's in the backseat cuz they're bumpin wale's new album.

don"t bother askin me where i got my socks because i'll answer every time "Walmart".
but what if we could all look past the whey protein shakes and yoga pants?

i figured out the joy is not in your arms.
i know i will always take with an empty heart. fear has been my favorite ride.

so pick me up cuz i think its time i run away from these stars.

Paris

I came to Paris because I was curious.  Curious about the things people see while there, curious about the feelings attained, and how some people can see for miles and miles after they come back.  Like they actually took a useful vacation, and became a new version of themselves. 

On my first day, I got lost in the cryptic streets and the noises meander in my head. 
Paris was where I bought my first pen.  See I use to just write with pencil, making many mistakes and erasing them so not even I could see them later.  The pen made me confident, bold, invincible even.  Paris was where I learned simplicity.  But I knew that every morning, no matter where ever I roamed,  I would find myself at the end of the day.  What I had in mind for Paris was to learn and observe.  To be a student really.  But some days you just want to call in sick, because learning only sounds fun when it's your idea, not the teacher's. 
If you want to be noticed, you can.  If you want to fade in Paris, you can.   Paris had no boundaries or guidelines.  I hate feeling restricted, like there is a right way to do things.  And once I figured that out, wandering Paris was a dream achieved.

IF you really knew me

If you really knew me


 You would know given the option I'd rather watch ESPN than a chick flick.  And that Steve Nash is still my favorite point guard to watch.  You would know that I hate sharing a song that I "found" with some one that doesn't appreciate it.  You'd know that I take things for granted, and now I find myself jealous of every one of my friends after they fight with their dads. 
You would know that just because in a conversation I'm not talking back, doesn't mean whatever you are saying isn't getting processed in my head, or being evaluated. 
If you really knew me you would know that I want to build a simple life. 

You would know that I have too many pairs of shoes that are too clean to be just sitting in its own section in my closet, waiting to be worn. 

You would know I'm very impatient. You would know that I practice more than I play.  And if faced with the choice and I'd have to choose, I'd rather drive by myself in the car.  You would know that I turn the music up way too high because I'm afraid of my own thoughts.  You would know that my mind's always running.  I run from my problems, but I'm chasin my dreams.

If you really knew me you would know I get obsessed with old men like Patrick Dempsey and Kyle Chandler all because of television series. And that I do crunches while I watch.

If you really knew me you would know I'm lookin for some direction. 
You would know my favorite color's orange, and my best friend is my twin.  But that wouldn't of been my answer 9 months ago.  If you really knew me you would know I'm always thinking of the worst outcome first.  And I'm scared to set myself up for failure, so at the last second I'll pull away. 

If you really knew me you would know I still hide snacks in the pantry because I'm saving them for a rainy day.  And just because Seattle rains more than 9 month out of the year, that's where I feel home bound. You'd know that I'm still stuck on my happy childhood that I got to have and maybe that's what keeps me going. 

This is for the Cinderalla’s, the Rudy’s, and the 6^th man that get over looked. 

This ones for the winner that is too determined to be defeated.

Find A Way

This is for the walking wounded, for the numb that can’t feel the missed mended  holes within them. 

This is for the weeping widows and widowers in the waiting rooms of hospitals.  For the surgeons that did not save a life today. 

Find A Way

This is for the weary.  The ones that give up, so they become the mail man or the garbage man.  This is for the kid that wakes up crying from a bad dream and mom’s not their to sing a lullaby. 

This is to the kid shootin in the rain.

This ones for the middle aged men still running from their problems because pops never taught them how to solve them.  This ones for the ones that walk without being led. 

                                                                          Find A Way

This is for the girl that got a perfect childhood, but her best friend didn’t.  Or the girl that misses out on Daddy Daughter Dates. 

This is to the boy tryin on his brother’s football pads, flexing in the mirror.  This is to the fathers that take a day off of work and go fly fishin with their sons.  This is for Sophie Barton.  And how she made life so beautiful. 

This is to the man on the moon. 

If he can do it, then why can’t you?  

And this one, this ones for me, because I deserve it.  And so do you.

Keep Me Where The Light Is

Reminders.  That's all they are.  Reminding me that  I keep forgetting to stop biting my lower lip.  Reminding me that my hands are stubby, but I like them because they are just like his.  Reminding me that everything I'm not, may be everything I am. 

The sticky notes on the mirrors reminding us to pay the bills, the letters that are filled with his messy penmanship reminding us that he has already built a legacy to follow, and the pictures on the walls reminding me how happy we were.

And the reminder that you are simply on vacation. 

I keep forgetting to buy my plane ticket to come see you. 

I keep forgetting that I only have enough time to ask you one question.  And that would be when will we own ourselves completely?

Then I'm reminded that I need more quarters to slide in the payphone.  Which brings me to spending all my money on shoes because I keep forgetting that they make me happy for now. I keep forgetting to put my money to use, like keeping the lights on.  Then I'm reminded that you never liked them on anyways, and I always keep forgetting to turn them off like you asked me to. 

I keep forgetting to eat our mid-night snack of celery and peanut butter, I guess I keep forgetting to look for you in the stands, and I keep forgetting to give my brothers a chance to become like you, and I keep forgetting to make you proud. 

And tonight, tonight is not the last time I'll see the light. 

St. Patricks Day  By: John Mayer


The Holidays are approaching and you know what that means.  The only way to survive the winter's cold is to find love to call your own.  No one wants to be alone at Christmas time, and when January comes we're all numb inside from the cold, our relationships are almost forcing us to stay together. 

John knows this, in fact he's on a mission to find her, the girl to come home to after a long day at work, because that sounds an awfully lot better than an empty house. 
So they begin dating and he learns of her. She tells him the name of her brothers and her favorite color and he's learning her.  Through the holidays he see's that they aren't the only victims.  Everybody else seems to be wanting to be just like them.
And what happens when your "always" is all that you give? Will you take what you learn and use it for the spring?

Pollen and Salt By: Daphne Loves Derby

Silance is loud even in a peaceful world, without you.  The evenings are calm but I am restless.  Not even the mighty sky can fill space you left behind, not even when it rains. 

You were too great to replace.  So I hold my breath for many nights in a row.  And in places I've never been to I know you're painting your dreams, you're achieving them, without me.

My sweetest memories of you are all I have left, but I'm willing to give them away if I could just be with you, again. 

Last night you'll never believe what happened.  I drempt you were with us, and finally I could breathe again.


The Greatest By: Cat Power

"Once I wanted to be the greatest..." 

We all say we want to be the greatest when were playing on the playground.  And then something happens, your situation, your circumstance changes.  It's that moment of clarity when you realize, it's just that, a dream.  Your natural instinct is to fight for it even harder, and disappointment will follow.  You accept it. 

Chan tells us it's okay to be average. And that failed ambition is inside us all. Will you be one to accept that your goals and dreams will never be achieved? Will you let it humble you?  Well, if my input means something, I'd tell you that I haven't let it humble me yet.  I'm too stubborn. 

Forgetting

I forgot to eat breakfast today.  It's not that I don't like breakfast or eating or whatever.  I just simply forgot.  I forgot to feed the dog on my way out of the house as well. I wonder if that banana forgot about me.  Or if my dog's forgetting what I sound like.

My grandma is starting to forget what grand kid I am.  We visited her today.  It was sweet to see her smile but depressing to see her so flustered with herself that she couldn't remember if my name is Mathew, Sophie, or Karren and if I am married with two kids or at BYU.  She doesn't remember which kid she brought to the Mariners game and which kid had to stay home.  Which kid called her on her birthday and which kid is grieving. 

It's like we all are in the same category.  Same order.  Same genre.  Same expectation.  But I don't want to be just a grand child to her.
                                   Or some classmate or student to you.  I don't want to be just some friend.
                     Some sister. 
                                           Some daughter.
                                                                        Some wife. 
                                                                                            Some mother to a child.

I want to be somebody.  I want to leave a mark in your life, in her life, in his life, and even the kid that sits in front of me in STATS class's life. 

I want to be remembered. Like my father is.   Like Michael Jordan is.  Like the sand man is when you wake up and scratch your eyes.  Like sin is when a tear drops from their mama's eyes.  Like our childhood hero's are remembered. 

I still remember the sound of his church shoes hitting the hardwood floors after a days worth of working.  I still remember the tears that filled my brothers' eyes when we waited outside of the hospital room.  I still remember the smell of his colon, but only because Mom couldn't stand having it around and gave it to my brother.  So now he smells like him.  I still remember tossing and turning every night because all I could hear was Dad, pounding the keyboard with his two index fingers. 

Still working.  Man, kemo couldn't slow him down.  So why would death slow him down? 

Forgetting will slow me down.