Chapter 1

            If there was one thing I learned about myself in my fifteen years before moving to the desert it was this; there was nothing special about me. Special, in this case being a loose term for interesting, was a word often used in the wrong context at my fair school of Huntington High. Huntington High was creatively named after the town in which it was located, namely Huntington.
           You see, there are two beaches in Huntington: Huntington and Santo. The first is a tourist beach with nice sand and crowded summer days. The second is a surfer's beach with a taco place at one end and a board waxing shop at the other. I lived two blocks away from Santo beach, and on a clear day I could look out my bedroom window and watch the waves lap against the wet sand as the sun rose over the pacific like some poem penned forever ago and lost in the author's wonder.
           But I never was able to simply watch the waves go about their business untamed, and as such I became an avid follower of wave religion. To the normal person that's called surfing but to me and the others like me, it was exactly that. A religion that had it's rightful place on a wave. It is a supernatural experience, riding those waves. The paddle, seeing the wave, standing, and catching that wave all seemed to happen in slow motion. I still believe that surfing is as wonderful an experience as one can have.
         There were certainly others who thought and acted like me in regards to wave religion. A few of them were friends, some were strangers, some were vistors, most stayed, and all were brothers of mine when the surf was up.
          There was Andrew, a friend of mine. He was, as most teenage boys in Orange County are, blonde, tall, tan, and athletic. He played football in the fall and wrestled in spring but when May came around and the sun shone until 8 or 9 at night, he would join me almost daily on the beach where we would surf and eat tacos, and rarely speak except to comment on the last wave or the next burrito or his most recent cheerleader girlfriend.
           Then there was Simon, a shorter, black haired boy with ocean blue eyes that seemed to echo the pacific itself. He was a year younger than me, and to most he seemed to be my apprentice of sorts. It is true that I taught him quite a bit about wave religion, but in reality one must only remember two things about this holiest of water sports. 1) Respect the wave, for it is more powerful than you and has been there longer, and 2) Never surf while on acid.
           This second rule was not a joke at all, in fact shortly before I moved away from Huntington a boy about my age drowned one night when he and his friends when out at night tripping balls and riding waves. His name was Troy and he was a football player. A jogger found his body the next morning washed up on the sand. The douchebags who did not respect the 2 simple rules of wave religion were known as thumbs by those who did because they obviously contained as much information in there brain as most do in their thumbs. Well, for that and other not so hand related reasons.

Part 1: The Past

              It's been a long month. Fuck, more like a year. I've changed as a person in 31 days. I've been reborn. It's an odd feeling, to think what I was doing not last year but last month. Last year I can deal with, last month was different. I find it doubly ironic that she would dye her hair pink after dumping me, as she knew I had dyed my hair pink in 8th grade. Furthermore, I find it ironic but oddly fitting that we haven't spoken since she said those 9 rather unsure words halfway through modern world. "I kinda think I'm gonna sorta break up with you." Somehow, I had imagined a more eloquent break-up from a creative writer who enjoys Tolstoy far more than she enjoys boys. Oddly fitting I say, because though our relationship was solid to all those looking in, we never talked about anything. I mean, yes of course we talked, we talked a lot. But the topics of conversation were rather trivial. One example would be foods you can eat with a shoelace:1 hour. we never talked about emotions or common interests outside of the internet, and we never opened to each other at all. It was like we only hung about each other because an imaginary string labeled "relationship" held us together. Meaningless, loveless, cold.
              And yet, we were fine. Better than most actually. For four months we did everything couples do. We hung out together and went with each other everywhere, we went on dates to cafes and romantic comedies. I even asked her out on a beach on the summer solstice at sunset, surprising even myself with how cheesy I could be. Objectively, we were a "cute" couple. Once, I said "I love you", I never got a reply.
         I should have known then that it was not meant to be. She broke up with me on our 4 month anniversary (one month ago), in Modern World, 12 hours after I met Kevin Spacey. The last words I said to her were "You have beautiful eyes." Then she dumped with the aforementioned 9 words and ruined my weekend. Hell, she ruined my week. For 5 days I thought she dumped me because of my haircut, for the next five, I couldn't speak in articulate sentences. I was in a bad place, depressed, confused, and overall melancholy beyond previous experience. Then, I was saved by a most unlikely source.

(SEE PART 2 FOR DETAILS)
           

Last Night

Stumbling down the center of circular suburban streets screaming to someone who isn't there. Foot by bloody foot stepping on yellow lines and growling at the night that exists in my head. There are 10 items in my pockets none of them are a cell phone or a keychain, and these goddamn dogs won't stop barking at me. Switching between spiteful screams and crying out names of past loves. Tears drip down my face as I still keep walking. And then for a long time, nothing. When I finally gain my mind back, I'm in an abandoned house scratching "David" onto a cement wall. This is what acting does to me. Thank god for my friends, otherwise last night might have turned out poorly for me.

Rip Off

The road has long before been ready for an angel
And everyone around has waited for this day
When you will come back, come back into my embrace
And we will celebrate the golden era days with you

And every day I long for reasons left to kiss you
And every month I try to kill myself in Vain
And every other day I struggle through the rain for you

If you were smaller I would carry to heaven
If you were larger I would do it all the same
Don't worry baby I won't force you to take my name

So once I leave my, once I leave my parents house hold
And once you promise me, oh promise me the same
we'll run together through the fields of carrot flowers
Until we're far enough away that we are safe

When I was younger I would chew my action figures
And all the barbies, they would think I was insane
Until you kissed me, and that changed it all in my brain

So won't you come down to us from that bed of roses
And tell us all that everything's ok
And we will love you, we will love every day of our lives.

Thoughts From Places 2

I spent my Sunday moving to a new apartment. It has two bedrooms, a nice kitchen, carpet throughout, a nice living room and probably the cuttiest shower of all time (in a good way). However, it was the journey to this place that really mattered to me. 

You see, goodbyes are bittersweet for most, but I never liked that house while I was in it. The memories though, they stay. Like that first morning we moved when we all woke up on the floor of what became my bedroom to the sound of Chinese News blaring from across the street. I remember that the first food in the fridge of that house was Macaroni and Cheese from Safeway. The last food in it was Macaroni and Cheese from Safeway. I remember the first time I slipped and fell down the stairs I was not yet used to. I also remember the second time because it was immediately following the first. I remember bringing Brandy our new Beagle home in a crate that was at that time too big for her and over time became too small. I remember playing with her in the backyard and I remember setting up the basketball hoop on the small patch of concrete that was between the large house and tiny lawn. I remember filming videos making fun of all my teachers, and I remember taking them all down. I remember the first time I ever felt truly epic, playing Rock Band in my garage with the three best friends that anyone could have. I remember slipping out the backdoor with a hatchet and a bat to destroy said Rock Band set later that year. I remember all the laughter, all the tears, all the love, and all the times I came back from school in fifth grade crying to myself because I thought I would never fit in. 

The house itself went through a lot too. Bryan kicked a hole in the drywall last year, me and my friend Connor took golf clubs to the garage door, I threw a basketball against the same side repeatedly everyday for a while because I was trying to master a certain trick shot. through 110 degree heat and that one time when it snowed, through fights and friends and foes and folly it stayed up and working and always the right temperature. 

But I guess in the end, all homes are the same, its just where the heart is, and the memories too.

Life

You learn a lot about life when you live it by the knife. Plenty of marital strife when you marry a bitch of a wife. Sure you can buy a big house, end up lonely as a mouse inside your palace, a monument to fallacy, normality, 'tis the name of the past, because you always play the character but never choose the cast and if my last name was right I would name my kid stage, he would be the rage, while I am stuck inside my palace cage remembering the days when I was the star of my own plays so, listen to me children and listen to me hard when I say that life is for the playing if you draw the right card you can be anything like a bahama llama or an alpaca cracka, don't live to smack her, respect her, collect her, protect her, so keep the facts and stay on track, don't have to be black to love your hood, you have to come back so go to college, share your knowledge, but also share the pain and board the plane don't fear the rain just go insane and come back to sanity normality, 'tis the name of the past.

The Essence Of ADD

Today, I went to my friend's brother's baseball game and instead of staying there and cheering him on and talking like we intended to, my friends Connor and Riley wanted to take off into the hills and go on an adventure. I went along, almost unwillingly but looking at the beautiful hills surrounding the ravine we were headed toward and feeling more adventurous than usual. We climbed, sprinted, and walked up one hill jumping from rock to rock while my irrational fear of heights took over and I immediately became a 5 year old. We spent a time on the top of that first hill shouting out Shakespeare and Monty Python lines, until my ADD  friend Connor decided to "climb that other one". And so we did, somewhat more slowly because of my friends' constant need to tun over stones and catch lizards or otherwise try to climb rocks far off the beaten path that I struggled up slowly.

We got to the top and the view was absolutely gorgeous on both sides. The sun was slowly setting and everything was bathed in that fantastic amber light that painter's and poets alike love to talk about. I sat down, thinking that we could have a really nice moment on top of the hill we just conquered, maybe even a conversation. But even as I sat down, there was Connor going to the next spot saying "Come on guys" sounding (whether intentional or not) like an impatient 7 year old. Well, what are you going to do.

You learn to live with having friends who cant hold a single thought or action for more than a minute and a half. Its hard, especially when you have as little energy as I do, to keep up with the ball of energy rolling down the hill of sugar your ADD friend just consumed. But in the end, it has its benefits. For instance I would have been stuck watching 12 year olds butcher the Nation's pastime if Connor and Riley weren't so damn spastic. And for that I say thank you ADD, you have greatly improved my day.