The Story

Tell your story. Write out the purpose for the pain. The reasons for the heartbreak and injustice, the deaths and depression, the love and the hope that you have experienced. Write it out and share it. Sing it from every rooftop you mange to climb. Dance it out in the streets. Shake it like breaded chicken until there is no more life in its veins. Stand within it in the subway tunnels and cry it out in a huddle of your closest loved ones. Suck the marrow from its bones because we are all going to die some day and right now we only have one chance at being legendary at being hopeful at revolutionizing this world but we also have one chance at being mediocre. At complacency.  This life can be everything you have ever wanted so write your story among the clouds and people will stop and stare while you do.

William Shatner

I once saw a bear capture a fish in a river. Sometimes that's how I feel. I feel like I'm working so hard to swim upstream, to help lay these eggs of future beauty, but out of nowhere this paw comes and swoops down after me. It kills me to see it coming. And I've been struggling with this problem a little more: tried to keep it bottled up so you didn't have to see. Mr. Hyde meet Dr. Jekyll, I'm sure they won't call this a gtragedy. But they did! They called it a disaster, nicknamed me Katrina and I never understood why I could never understand my thoughts without submitting to some kind of forum for depressed people. That's all this is is a depressive season. Its got nothing to do with the fact that we fuck weekly. Its got no motivation from the stresses I'm facing when I'm not in thatg bathroom masturbating. Piss and moan of time but some day we will both be clearly defined and I will trade this pale bone spine for some tired line that comes second string to love like mine. Turn that face away or get the fuck out. Don't you judge me! You've got no right to look into this window but I have let you see the monster I've become. I've lost the Road to being human and the whole time I'm trying to save souls. I can bring everyone back! And if you'd just let me Id show you the facts I've got recorded underneath my eyelids. I've got them all packed neatly away in boxes marked with sharpie like I'm moving out of town. But sadly I'm not going anywhere except maybe to Hell, but I'm pretty damn sure that I'm already there. So, let's take a look around. I'm torturing myself with temptation but claiming I'm in the process of reconciliation but really I'm just sick of failing and fading out. I just want to go home to my family where I was loved for being me and not havingto fit inside of a role that obviously wasn't written for me.

We Will Be Different

A Heart to Heart

About an hour ago a good friend took me aside to talk to me. He told me a few things that I believed to be a misunderstanding of what I represent. It is time for a heart to heart. Here goes my best effort.

I love what I do. I love playing music. I love standing on stages. I love spoken word. I love speaking with people. I love sharing stories that many would not come across in casual conversations. However, speaking on a stage can easily be interpreted as a "go fix yourself while I revel in my own ways" kind of ordeal.

This is not my intention.

Something that I have failed time and time again to emphasize is where my writings come from. I'm just a normal dude who sits up late at night and tries to write something powerful. However, most of the things that come out of my head are simply for me. The words I speak on stages and type in blogs are all for me. Let's relate this to a book many people love: The Bible. The Bible is this set of books that weren't written to the audience that reads them today, but there are truths that can be pulled from the text and still applied to a contemporary audience. In the same way, the pieces I write and the messages that I speak on stages are, in my head, being reflected and told by myself to myself.

It's an idealism.

It's the way that I want to think. When I say something like, "go love one another," it's not just me saying to the listener, "Hey, love that guy always" while I go and act like an arrogant fool. It's me reminding myself that I have something that I need to go work on at all times. The revolutions and change that I speak of are not necessarily just for my audience, but they are also things that I want internally manifested in myself.

It's my dream for a utopia.

Words are powerful, but there is no way for me to clearly define what is for me and what is for my reader/listener.

It happens with music.

It happens with books.

It's the power of stories.

I hope this helps.

I have struggles of my own, and most of my writings come from this. I want to be the change. I want to love others more. And I want you to pull out truths from my writings and apply them to your lives.

Thank you for this chance.

20/30

There was a man who felt pain

He got high

Then he felt afraid

So he drank a whole bottle of wine

It seems like there's a vice for every feeling in life

I've got six.

Welcome to the family.

Pharisaic Vision

Pharisee what's it like to finally see

That grace plays a larger role in love than you expected.

You preach from the liar's chair that law

and order are the two legs of Chuck Norris

But you don't fear a round house kick to the face.

There is blood on your hands from the "lost" that died

For they never knew that their Shepherd had his arms open.

Your speaking death into dry bones

and acting like it's the greatest cigar you've ever smoked.

It's cheap and trite like your stupid workshop

where you tell us that living in two kingdoms is a sin

Who are you to tell me that the old way of working is still the best?

This is a point of transition to a new way of thinking

No longer Sin Management Systems

but The Grace Company

and Love Incorporated.

You are so wrong in the way you speak

It's almost as if your picking out the road signs we have laid for seekers

Your false teachings will come with a consequence

You don't know where we are

Or where they have been

You have sat in your ivory tower with books and books

Relationship takes time but you stuff your face with Ramen

Unwilling to put the work in to cook the meal

You will be food for worms

7/30 & 8/30

7/30

This could be anywhere in the world but it seems to have infected my heart.
I must carry the pains in my chest until my breath ceases.
It must be the separation because I never held this hurt when I was near you.
This all seems so dark to me now as I look through glass at the creatures gazing down on me.
I wish I had the words.
David was a man after Your heart oh Lord and I
seem to have been turned around and I find my home among your waste.
Let me lament to the nations because I am just a Pharisee as long as I live among these thieves.
I was supposed to do it all for the sake of the Gospel.
become all things to save some by all means and
I have been stuck in this role
replaying my sins in my mind
as the people I have used walk past me day and night.
My God won’t you ease the pain on this heart of me
for I am afraid that it might break in time
for my brain is conflicting itself and I cant

control my motor skills and my hands will defeat me!
Wrapped tight around my throat, my closet holds no bones

8/30

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
but if I’m deaf can I still hear it?

6/30

Across the masses lies a look of terror

It has fallen asleep inside of their bones

When they crack their knuckles it awakens.

Reminds them of the death they shall taste.

Princess, Peach, and schemes.

An orphan plays his accordion like a disease.

she times her steps in twos and threes never stepping on the cracks.

The car passes by on the west end of town to distract the young officer

He sees money.

They steal the money.

A bell rings out in the open air like a bullet cut through the forehead of our leader.

Mr. President is down.

He's bleeding cotton candy clouds of ideas that will never go settled.

Dreamers dream nightmares of watching their creations burn in the fires like books in the Holocaust.

Moral equivalence, I think not.

My hands have been frozen to my side for 11 minutes now.

The Executive is still dead.

Hope. Yes we can.

5/30

Trapped in chains that vision cannot surmise

Compromised by the fabrication of a thing called time

and they wonder why I'm not good with my words.

I've got a gag in my throat and a coal on my tongue.

It's so cold in here my pectorals have testicles.

I keep repeating myself.

I've used up all of my vocabulary.

Oh lover, the Lord has left us.

Let's make the same mistakes that we used to on Sunday afternoons.

It is summer again, where is the love?

My life is for hire and they call this Stockholm Syndrome.

Diabolos, Slanderer, will you take my hand in marriage?

I've grown too dependent on a life of filth.

Take the claws in my sides and crack them.

Who needs ribs anyways?

Hearts are meant for sleeves not protective things

and I seem to have misplaced my gun.

Found it.

The force is strong with this one.

4/30

My life as an ordinary salesman

Wake, eat, sell, eat, sleep

Repeat.

Tell me that my life isn't worth living.

I've got 5 empty shells that say it is.

2/30 & 3/30

2/30

My lungs are all aflame with the water that is clogging them
Like cholesterol to the heart
They shall be filled with ominous things meant to break us down
And to kill
The home on the left once housed a famous madman
People thought he was sweet
Dutch angle of the floor to remind us of this crooked place
Adjust my heart with a leveler
There is a war going on for your mind and I am but a soldier
I won’t tell you to think but I will make you and you will hate it
What if I told you that the things you believed were false
What if I provided the evidence necessary to shake the Westboro Baptist Church
I hope your God burns on the cross so he has no body to resurrect with

3/30

Once there was a man from Nantucket
He died on a Tuesday
His wife had the arms of tree limbs in her backyard
She wore an apron
“World’s best cook”
She could only see past the kitchen counter.
Her daughter mowed the lawn
The chopped up blades would float around her like a hurricane
She turned green with money.
Envy was upon the horizon as the foreigners caught wind of our expenses.
They hurled bombs like Greek gods across an ocean of glass
our land was dented like a car in a wreck
We were wrecked.
Disaster zone.

Shrapnel flew across a forest.

6 men dug a foot each

The 7^th felt the warm sting of a viper in his back

He was from Nantucket.

They called him Joe

It was Monday.

1/30

My name is Danny and I talk too much.
I grew up playing baseball in the spring summer winter and fall, in that order.
I was always trying to be a daddy’s boy so i wouldn’t end up like Johnny,
the momma’s boy who loved dinosaurs a little too much
and dipped his Cheetos in his apple sauce
and played Pokemon like he was talking to God.
In fact I tried so hard that on my Fifth birthday,
my mom bought me a starter pack and red version
And in middle school they called me “stilts”
because I have half the blood of a Kamikaze running through me
but I’m surprised they didn’t call me stunts because id jump through hoops
with a triple back flip and a half pike jus for the red eye of Sauron to be focused on me
Oh what a wonderful life it is to chase the American dream like a mist in San Francisco
In high school I was average. That is all.
People talked to me and liked me.
And in college, life got hard.
It was like my mother’s brownies.
She always tried so hard.
I started standing on stages and preaching that life is so much more precious than we often think.
There is hope for us all and we just have to believe.
I was selling a message that I wasn’t even practicing,
Call me the Tiger Woods of morality.
Some day I’ll drink my Red punch and move on in this world. But it’s the same routine for now
Eat sleep repeat eat sleep repeat
Repeat, repeat, repent, repeat