Entries By Jason
Displaying 361 To 390 Of 680 Entries
I feel the wind blowing into my eyes and all I think is this glass cannot protect me so. I feel the wind blowing in my ever-growing hair and say to myself this cloth cannot tame it so. So we pull off and I blindfold you before we continue on. Such that at least one item serves a purpose. Grip me tighter, for this vehicle puts us in ‘it’ and with that fold over your eyes, I am all you have.Posted By Jason On 05.03.2011 @ 10:20 am
there was a girl on the north side of town. she never knew her father. the carpet smelled like old moss and baby powder. nights are long. the paint smells just enough for the back of your mind to drift into the desert night air. she never knew her father, but he made a good hunting buddy,Posted By Jason On 04.27.2011 @ 7:39 pm
trash, as in I am poor and dumb and I like it that way, alas I am out of intoxicants to prevent my sad malnourished brain from attaining any understanding at all about the world or it’s contents, slow and melodic, scientific and free, no not for the trailer trash, those oh, so proud americans with a capitol A, they prefur to loaf around and drink.Posted By Jason On 04.27.2011 @ 6:50 pm
The slight difference between the ability to rationalize and the truth of the feeling in the moment and the willingness to say “yes” to whatever that may be. But that is not the case at hand. Instead there is denial. Rationalization, logic where there should not be. And everything feels out of sorts because of it.Posted By Jason On 04.24.2011 @ 11:22 am
It feels great to lift weights and pump lead but honestly, it also feels manufactured. It feels rat-racey. It feels plastic to stand in a room with bicycles and treadmills and weights lined up in a row while everyone does the same thing to achieve the same image. So I do something else which is both fun and free and just as beneficial.Posted By Jason On 04.23.2011 @ 2:46 pm
There are certain textures, certain sounds you hate. And you know you hate them without needing to be around them because your passion against them is so strong. It’s the feeling of inauthenticity. Of something so manufactured and man-made that it just can’t be good.Posted By Jason On 04.22.2011 @ 8:12 pm
I may try to mold two different girls into an image of you. And they won’t suffice. There will always be you. You who is so good at rationalizing and telling yourself how to feel because of the titles you create. How strange that is to those of us who simply feel based on the truth of the moment.Posted By Jason On 04.21.2011 @ 10:11 pm
I hate the technology brings us closer to an understanding of the world yet isolates us so deeply from ourselves and from each other. I feel a difference in myself when I stop texting people and search them out to tell them in person. And I feel a difference when I actually call to talk instead of text or e-mail. Because truly the feeling of being there makes all the difference in the world and strengthens all of our bonds.Posted By Jason On 04.21.2011 @ 10:42 am
A pleather couch and a rocks glass an eighth of the way filled. A nice movie playing across the room and a few casual sips every now and then. Undertones of smoke and sea salt caressing my nose and tongue. Dancing flickers of light as the camera changes view point. And I’m somewhere between it all, finding my place inside of myself, enjoying every moment of it.Posted By Jason On 04.17.2011 @ 4:33 pm
It’s a quick thud, and a moment’s notice to the ground as you protect yourself, shoes all over your body, hands roaming into your pockets. Words of panic from your sister as she watches as you feel your elbow, cradling your head, push back and forth with the rhythm of the feet propelling it forward as you reach to grab the ankle of the foot for a brief moment, your eyes connect. And you go back to cradling your head in time before the next foot lands, knowing you did all you could in that brief glance.Posted By Jason On 04.14.2011 @ 10:09 am
That old way of thinking that got us the attention we desired as children. The way it helped us through high school. The way it nurtured us through surviving our childhoods. The needs it created in ourselves to resist change. And the desire to flee from ourselves and the truth of the moment.Posted By Jason On 04.13.2011 @ 9:03 am
This is my favorite part of my apartment. The place where when I need something new, something inspirational, or something comforting that I go to. My home never quite feels like home without this little set of cheap wood, supporting more than its fair share of books and stories.Posted By Jason On 04.11.2011 @ 12:52 pm
I walked into my audition and did my best work yet in any audition I’ve ever had. I walked into my interview for directing and did the best interview out of anyone in that process and the best that I could. I didn’t get the directing slot I wanted. I don’t yet know if I got any callbacks that I wanted. But in either case, I did the best I could and feel the best about both opportunities.Posted By Jason On 04.08.2011 @ 3:55 pm
Bob had never been much of a runner, but he was going to do it, dammit. It was only five kilometres, for crying out loud, and he wasn’t that old. Was he?
Given his family history, you’d think he would run like the wind. Father, Olympic medallist. Brother, football star. Grandfather, front line war veteran. He outran tanks, for crying out loud.
And here was Bob, his lungs on fire after two laps of the high school track.
I’m going to do this.Posted By Jason On 04.07.2011 @ 5:33 pm
I’m finally asking the right questions, understanding what it is I need to do to get the career I want. Amazingly however, the people whom I know hold the answers, or at least an idea of where to look purse their lips and sit in silence. Providing nothing. Maybe there is something in that nothing. For now I need to search a new place and find a new way to answer these questions.Posted By Jason On 04.07.2011 @ 12:10 pm
I continuously have this dream, or at least I feel it to be a dream, where my life and my dreams collided and became this satisfying moment of unity. I have this other dream, but this I know not to be a dream, where I am here, feeling stuck yet unbounded. As if I know completely that I have no need to be here and only a desire that must be kept alive. Must be kept alive. Must. Is this my judgment or someone else’s?Posted By Jason On 04.07.2011 @ 12:05 pm
The way I held your hand after you came up from behind and brushed your hands along my torso. Exploring every spot, changing my feeling with each finger tip and each stroke across the expanse of my back. And finally, into my solar plexus where you stayed and rested, finding me in my own depth. Willingly pulling me out.Posted By Jason On 04.06.2011 @ 10:19 pm
It took me a while to honestly say I had the ability to love myself fully. To live fully and honestly with all the choices I made. And it took immense courage to stand in the darkness of my fears and say that they too are okay and part of me. And it took me the longest of times to love my intensity and forwardness and the ability I have to simply demand all and leave nothing behind.Posted By Jason On 04.05.2011 @ 11:33 am