Floodgates

I was this close. Inches away from it. moments. 

Just say it David. Say it out loud so that you can move on.... "I can't because...."

Nothing comes out. It's like suddenly i feel like i don't have a right to even mention it. I finally have those big brown eyes staring back at me and the chance to say what i feel and maybe hear that it wasn't all my fault. That i'm not completely incapable of not being "the ex" for once. Nothing comes out.

"It was good to see you too" I rushed here tonight and hated every minute of it. "You look great" ugh "I'm glad you're happy." ok maybe that one's true... maybe it's not.

On the bright side though, even though my hands were numb and my mouth was dry, i've never meant a song onstage more than i did tonight. "Now most days i spend like a child who's afraid of ghosts in the night. I know there ain't nothing out there, but i'm still afraid to turn on the light... I am at ease in the arms of a woman. Although, now, most of my days are spent alone." 

I'd convinced myself that this January would fix my situation like the past three have. Always the same cycle. November = broken. December = the pain giving way to a dull throb. January = Some sort of miracle. 

... Silly coincidences fueling a silly boys superstition.

It's ok. No one there tonight will know that i left out the back to yell up at a grey sky and tell God that i need some proof. That i need to know if January comes again. No one will no that i didn't get any answers and choose to believe still. And no one, especially not her, will have a clue what it felt like on the outside looking in on what was suppose to be my perfect world.

I was seconds away from saying what i've been dying to say. Nothing came out. Even now i can't bring myself to type it. I'm still not sure why.

"Time stood still for a month or six while everything was right. Then caught up to leave me in a world that changed while i was high... enough to see how i could dream, but still forget how dreams can die"

I'm not as depressed as i sound. I just feel like giving into it completely at least once is the only way to understand what we're really feeling and forget why we were afraid to feel it. 

I can't wait for my January to come again.

The Sleeve...

I was hidden away in a small smokey room, playing honestly... it was pretty rough. But i shut my eyes tight and i directed the lyrics to the corresponding faces in my mind. I was speaking to friends, old girlfriends, family... God. It was good for me. 

So the night runs it's course and i find myself packing it in early. "Don't ruin your voice by singing through it." Walking out to my car i put up all my gear. And the drive home started like any other. Then, out of the invisible sleeve of the night, Your hand moved and i was amazed. I remembered that the WHOLE EARTH is filled with glory. With reminders and signs of power, and i felt so small. But what i could hardly wrap my mind around was the fact that You were speaking to me and setting up those earlier moments in the midst of that tiny, smokey, insignificant room, when outside was this massive world and even it shoes but a fraction of Your vastness. It seems to be a display of power that You could even spin those moments around me without affecting anyone else when i'm so small to you. Not insignificant, but undoubtedly small.

"...cry to heaven when i miss, to ne'er forget creation's kiss."

That sleeve covers it up sometimes, but i don't want to forget how intimate this process is again.

Honesty pt. VI.... the pivot.

I keep saying that these threads will end soon and i realized last night that probably never will. The need for honesty will never be quenched. Plus i'd like to see how high i can count in roman numerals.

Honesty... good lord. Reading through the earlier installments, i was reminded how these started. As letters to You. As an honest moment that friends and have and a subconscious plea for advice. But last night i realized that for the past six months i haven't been honest. Ya i said it a few times because i knew it was appropriate...

I hurt. 

But i never let myself really break down. I kept busy, i thought i was suppose to. I moved forward and i did well where i was. So last night i got on my knees in a room full of strangers and i was honest. I saw that face in my mind and it hurt... I let it for the first time in months. I know you've seen this in me since last July, but i just haven't wanted to feel it. I still don't. 

We're being honest right? Honestly... i want her to know. I want her to know what this feels like. Not to hurt her as well but for her to understand what happened here. Justification?

Calm down though, before You go proving me wrong; i know it's a bad idea. I'm not looking for a battle. And the more i think about it i'd really rather You fix this in me instead of trying to reconcile things my way. It seems like that way it would stay fixed...

My fixings always come loose... i can see You laughing at me now.

So i'm sorry for straying from that honesty policy we had. I'm back for good now... until the next time i'm not. So let's be real: i'm in pain and i want You to take this.

Sry i'm not an easier project... love You.

-dave

The Moon

I'm living in two worlds. Not to be mistaken for living a double life. I'm consistent and glad of it.

But there's one world i spend most of my time in. Where the heat from the sun is strong and the days is fast-paced. Press your shirt and smile big because this is the full-time world. Full-time jobs that pay full-time bills and full-time people working their hardest to make it through to lunch. And then there's another world that, although i don't spend the greater part of my time in, seems to contribute the most substance. 

I'll explain.

The past couple of days i've seen them contrast sharply. At least three days in a row it happened, which is strange because normally these moments come a bit more sporadically lest they lose their value. Throughout the day i was productive and, i'm sure, seemed quite normal. 

And then the moon did something strange...

It covered me from head to toe in answers to questions that, even now, i can't quite put my finger on. It reminded me why, with eyes like Lions, we're called to live in chaos. Because, in chaos, those things that are steadfast stand out. You. You know who you are. You know if that calling is for you. There's no denying it and there's no escape. And even more than my need to flesh out strange ideas and emotions, this blog is for you. Because it's easy to forget what the chaos is about. We forget that, when it seems like we can't catch a break, we're only where we are because we're people of a different spirit. A stronger spirit. One that feels no less pain, but has a promise of something greater. And this is the weather that is necessary for our preparation.

So i look forward to the next reminder. I look forward to the next mediocre day. The day that i'm having trouble remembering that spirit i carry. The day that seems so normal and insignificant until suddenly.... the moon does something strange.  It's sad maybe but it takes the numbness to appreciate the passion for me sometimes.

Today was such a normal day. And then, the moon did something strange.

The Knife

I've had these nights before, I've been redeemed

In the eyes of a girl who smelled just as sweet

And if you could tell me, tell me the secret to make a man strong

I'd forgive the debt and like a soldier from war, find my way home

And I've been betrayed by a kiss but not like you

In the image of love i gave into truth

And if you could tell me, tell me the secret to not fall like this

I'd hold my head high and i'd find the strength to lead her again

Fear in my chest, grace on my lips

I'll find the strength to lead her again

I've had these night before, but i was redeemed

I've felt the lights that burn when they've gone

And i've sung my secrets to these rooms before

If you could tell me that just one was changed I'd move on

And sing something new about how it's all old and nothing is wrong

Heartache and love are but the width of a blade

Both stab and scar to remind you of pain

I'd like to tell you, tell you the secret to finding the one

But i'm just as lost as the man with his eyes fixed on he sun

I felt the knife break my skin

dressed up the wound, and started again

I've had these night before, and i was redeemed

I've had these nights before, but i've been redeemed

*let it be known that Lauren Stapely directly contributed by letting me steal one of her poetically genius lines for this song*

Honesty... Part V

I've missed this thread. It's predecessors (I-IV) aren't on here so don't bother looking for 'em. Honesty... i forgot what you tasted like. So bitter, but that dull sting is so therapeutic. Addictive almost. Like the scratchy sting of a tattoo, just as permanent and twice as much of a rush.

Honesty.... Honestly...? I'm just as clueless as i was when i started this thread a year ago. And ten times more frustrated. I know i'm not old but i feel like i'm behind the curve. Not as far ahead as i should be... but is that the case or am i just buying into the crap? There's a poem by one Sam Shoemaker called "I Stand at the Door". In it, he describes this door that separates two worlds. The dark hopeless searching outside. Blind groping hands looking for the door with "the latch that only opens to a man's own touch." And inside the knowledge of God, massive and terrifying. Where some  "Go into the deepest of hidden casements, of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood." But he explains, "I stand by the door." Neither going in too far for fear i'll forget those blind groping hands - those men who, on cold streets, die for want of what's within their grasp. Nor going out too far for fear that i may forget the warmth and security and glory that lies behind it.

I've always felt like my place is by the door - like i've been called to stand there - and it's driving me crazy little by little.

You see i know where my name is written. I know where my devotion lies. But what the poem doesn't mention is the voices. On both sides. It's not just our poetically genius creator that speaks but those in the dark have their opinions as well as those saints. Both are very loud, and both make a good case, but more importantly both cloud the voice i'm dying for. 

Honesty... Honestly...? I know what i'm called to. I know what i'm meant for. More than a conquerer, bread with a spirit of terrifying power, but i'm just honestly not strong enough to fight the aching in my joints to be either here or there. Feeling like a stranger in this land, but lacking the support to back it up sometimes.

Honestly... i want rest... 

Crap. Even just now, as i typed those last three words, it kicked me in the teeth. The only time i have rest is when i'm where i'm meant to be. In the middle of chaos holding onto a peace and fighting to share it. It's when i try to break away from it, to a traditional rest, that i lose peace. I guess we're only meant to operate successfully where we were made to be... no matter how chaotic that place is.

Honestly... i'm kinda speechless now.

Maybe standing by the door is close enough to hear that voice after all.

When the Air Gets Colder...

I love it. I love this time of year and the anticipation of long coats and scarfs. And so i'm sitting here thinking of where i was last year at this point... not the best of places. And then thinking of where i am am this year... hmm. It seems like there's a cycle that creeps up on me each year. October always sets the scene, November's always got me singing December's love song, and January always brings some beautiful twist to kick me in the teeth. And the eyes... there's always some gorgeous set of eyes on my mind that have way too much say in how my days go. Never the same pair, but there's always some perfect, unattainable, over-idealized set of eyes... It's the eyes that get me. 

I hate that last part.

I hate that it's a part of, what it seems, is my cycle. But still i'm waiting to see if this year comes through for me like every other. Waiting to see if January comes again, and when it does will it bring a new pair to make me think they're the first pair? Will they trip me up just like the last? Will i even stand a chance against them? I never seem to. Then again i never try to. I do fall in love pretty easily... something i should work on, and something that's being worked on for me.

So here we go. Line 'em up and let's see what they have to say. Let's see how many albums can be inspired by the next one. I could use some inspiration and if i've made it out alive the past few times i'll make it out next time. 

Wait... what's this? Here we go again.

This is My Vision

I feel an awakening. A reckless pull in my chest leading me into confusion, because i've found security and there was more peace in the mystery of what i had before. It comes in short bursts. It starts with a sigh of relief and it's crescendo is a vision. I've felt it before. The cities vary, and the languages outside my door kind of blur together, but this vision is the same. The faces to my left and right change, and venues of expression are violently different, but this vision is always the same. 

Let me tell you about it...

To begin with there's a complete and total lack of anxiety. Things still go wrong, relationships are still necessarily broken, but the anxiety is removed from it all. At first i wasn't sure why. The world is still a broken place full of broken hearts, but for some reason the anxiety is removed from that knowledge. I still had no idea why. People still let you down, plans that you believed your life depended on are still cast to the side suddenly, permanently and without notice, but the anxiety is gone. And suddenly a glimmer of understanding begins to stir, but still i cant explain it. Death is still bitter, pain is still painful, but i can't bring myself to worry. Then all at once it's clear. So softly and but unwavering underneath it all is this melody. Simple and beautiful. 

A song. 

It's an innumerable mass of broken hearts, unsure but drawn in by the mysticism in this urge to sing it. The lyrics are unclear but the message in unmistakable. Jehovah Shammah. God is there. The anxiety is gone because this tune reassures us. Yes, He's the Prince of peace. Yes, He's the King of kings. Yes, he reigns from everlasting to everlasting, but the real peace is because God is there.

Not hiding in the cosmos, all powerful and unattainable. But right here. 

The vision is a ways off from being realized. Not because our God, the God of our heroes and the God of our reparations, isn't there. But because so many people don't know it. They still have the unexplainable urge to sing that tune, but they haven't seen it's inspiration yet. I get excited when i think about my vision. Then when i open my eyes and see where we are in relation to that reality, i know we've got our work cut out for us. But Jehovah Shammah.

How Do We Get Clean?

More specifically; how do I get clean? How do I move on from something that so much was invested in without reeking of it still. When my hands feel like they're caked in remnants of what they've torn apart - heavy and useless.

I've developed a habit of people watching. Creepy? You do it too. 

But what i learned tonight sitting and the local Cigar Club, a few hours before my set started and people i knew started to show up, was strange. You see normally these revelations are suppose to be had while gazing at the stars like an emo kid, or standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon or one of the worlds many other wonders. Not in a dim-lit smokey bar lined with dark red leather and mahogany chairs. But still, i sat watching the people that walked in, and listened like a Private I to their conversations that seemed so petty and far removed from ME and MY world. You see, my advice to any of them would've been "get over it". "This is such a small loss an petty chapter of your life".

Advice I'm slow to follow.

But why? Why should i be? Why is it so much harder for me to wash this mess off of my hands? Because i don't want to. The question i keep asking myself is "How do we get clean again when it's more than a memory?" And the answer that kicked me in the teeth tonight was honestly not startling. More annoying, because i know it's been there this whole time and i know that i saw it a long time ago. I just don't like it because it puts the blame on me. 

This won't leave me because i won't stop carrying it with me incessantly. 

I can't wash my hands of the stain because i keep rubbing them in it. I can't get this scent off of my mind because it's all i want to remember. So how do we get clean? We set it down, walk away and wash our hands. Clean. Ready to be immersed in the next mess. Hopefully the next will be a stain that we can live with peacefully and happily for the rest of our lives here, and a fragrance that we're dying to wake up to every morning that we wake up and breathe out the name of our creator. Though reluctantly it may be.

So i actually get up from my chair. I leave my things there with my new unsuspecting "observ-ees". I go to the bathroom and actually wash my hands. Not because they needed it, but because i did. And i kid you not, they feel lighter. Less cumbersome. Ready to be made of use.

The same... but not at all...

"So sit me in the pouring rain, i'll listen to the beat if it will keep me sane. Anything to drown the sound 'cause every mile screams, afraid that we'll wake up before we find our dream. Let the cynics say that we have lost our minds we won't come down until our hearts are satisfied."

-The Vinyl Affair

The 2nd verse of a tune i wrote about 2 1/2 years ago. See I'm working on a new project, "The Sun is Screaming", and in rearranging an acoustic version of this song i got this really weird feeling. Originally it was about a unique experience and relationship. By the time we got around to recording it that relationship changed significantly and was at the brink of failure. 

It failed. But we move on.

And now that i'm re-recording an acoustic version of this song i'm finding that, a year and a half and one more relationship later, i'm the exact same spot... but not at all. Make sense? It was a really weird feeling. Accurate i guess. Because like my situation, the song is the same, but it's changed significantly over time through perspective and experience. 

The same song, but a completely different sound. The same season, but a totally different spin. I think i'm starting to see the cycles that life comes in and hopefully understand it's twists. But if there's anything i've learned as of yet, it's to not try and wrap mind mind around it. As soon i let that impulse go, it plays out perfectly - though maybe still painfully - right in front of me.

I hope you guys digg the new stuff. It's coming soon. I'll post the link to the original version and post the new one when it's ready.