The Game Of Night- A Poem

Let the drinks set in

Then the game of love begins

Dead soldiers give liquid courage

Class in the morning but its just junior college

Touch your pale skin lightly

Sing songs we used to know softly

Smoke filled lungs begin to exhale

And the drinks we drank lift the veil

Stumbling now in dark alleys

Thoughts of summer of sun kissed valleys

If we were sober would we still hold hands

Or would reality keep us apart with its cruel commands

Sun is rising soon you’ll be gone

Felt so right now seems so wrong

I wonder why we only live at night

As you slowly walk out of sight

A Collection of Photos

So since Facebook is really just a good place to post embarrassing photos from parties and such, I thought I would post some of my more serious pictures on here. I think the common theme is vacany, there isnt a lot of action in any of the photos but there is beauty. Enjoy

Bombay Beach-Salton Sea, California

Shell Station at Midnight

Brotherhood- Sacramento California

Trees, Sacramento California

Trees Part Deux, Oneil Park California

A Short Story About A Walk

Suddenly the time caught up with him and his only option was a long walk home. Leaving the safety of the apartment and thrown into the encompassing night did little to quell the inebriated state Elliott was in. Far worse was the fact that given the state of his cohorts, all in far deeper than himself, Elliott was forced to make the trek on his own. Slowly the steps came and as he left the apartment complex and began to walk Montezuma the cars that passed by served as his guide; illuminating, if only for brief fleeting moments, his path home and providing him his only companionship. The road was familiar, even given his current condition and the faint glow of broken streetlights that made seeing the road ahead a challenge. But the steps soon blurred and Elliott was able to take in the darkness and his surroundings.

As he passed by a school encompassed in darkness, Elliott wondered what it would be like to be back in elementary school. Times were simpler then, there was no doubt or worry when it came to things like grades, his future and girls; only life, only simple games and boyhood fantasy. Just as he could smell the fresh cut grass beneath his feet and hear the sounds of schoolyard scuffles, the darkness crept back around the school bringing him back to the task at hand. Slowly again his feet begin to move one after another only now his steps don’t carry as much weight, there is no urgency in them.

Across the street he sees two other travelers walking the same sidewalks only to a different destination. The faint outlines become clearer as they get closer to Elliott and the way they look holding hands, fighting off the darknesswith their own light makes him cringe. It is not as though relationships are a foreign thing to him; the game of love is one he played on many occasions, often time well but never well enough, he was still forced to imagine the light that love can bring. Those thoughts quickly bring him to her, the one he should be sharing this drunken walk with, the one who kissed his lips and took his breath away when it suited her. Tearing his mind away from the image of that angel, his half opened eyes look upon a vacant lot, overgrown and fenced off with graffiti and empty beer bottles its only inhabitants. His heart felt like that vacant lot, there were barricades, fences and razor wire keeping out all who dared to enter. Inside the walls there was emptiness, nothing permanent nothing lasting, only memories and relics serving as reminders of times when it was full. He wanted to stare at that vacant lot for the rest of the night, hoping that maybe something would appear, something real with a story and a history, however he didn’t want to be mistaken for a loiterer so he slowly turned his head and began walking.

Almost there, almost to the safety of his bed, where the warmth would slowly bring him to unconsciousness and he could put the night behind him; knowing that in the morning he wouldn’t remember the long cold walk by himself, but the walk to the apartment and the nights debaucheries. Elliott had her then; they walked slowly, letting the group get in front of them and relied on each other for support and sure steps. She slipped her hand in his and smiled, they walked slower and slower, time didn’t matter anymore and all at once he felt the warmth and light of someone connected with him. But that was earlier and as the Aztec corner apartments come into view, he smiles knowing he’ll only remember that simple moment.

With a turn of a key the night and the walk vanish; time for sleep and the satisfaction of a new morning.

Zooey Deschanel is incredibly beautiful and talented. Plus the song is an excellent cover of a Smokey Robinson classic. Enjoy.

Album Review: Conor Oberst (self titled)

Now I need to start this review off by saying I am nowhere near a non-biased party when it comes to Bright Eyes and the music of Conor Oberst. Ever since the album Lifted Or The Story Is In The Soil, Keep Your Ear To The Ground came out I have used his music as a form of relief from the cruelties and heartaches that inevitably come with being human. So it was with great excitement that I purchased and began to listen to Oberst's first 'solo' album. I use the quotes in solo simply because throughout his career, although going under the moniker of Bright Eyes, Oberst has been the only constant in an ever revolving number of bandmates. Critics who look down on him for abandoning his band are simply wrong; the music and vision of Bright Eyes has always started and stopped with its frontman. With that said it is ultimately the music that speaks for itself and this album does not fail to deliver. Fans of Bright Eyes will not be completely left in the dark, this is not a transformed or reinvented Oberst, rather be treated to the natural progression of his music; the album reflects a greater depth of maturity and focus consistant with an artist still moving upward towards his prime. It has been said that Conor Oberst is the Bob Dylan of our generation and while this is a very lofty comparasion it is safe to say that he is very; using lyrics and feelings along with simple melodies to convey and bring about emotions in his listeners. Overall the album is very enjoyable and listening through it I did not find myself wanting to skip tracks or become let down and disappointed at having bought the album in the first place. Notable tracks include 'Souled Out' a fairly upbeat track that discusses heaven being all sold out and equates the very concept to fairy tales. During one verse Oberst talks about his own fears with regards to the afterlife, "I woke up in the age of wires/ I fell asleep at the dusk of man/ now I’m cold/ fingers crossed in the promised land." Other notables are the very country sounding 'Sausalito' and the very fast paced and ironic 'I Don't Want to Die (in a hospital)'. I highly recommend this album for both fans of Oberst's previous albums as well as people completely unfamiliar with his music. With witty, thought provoking lyrics layed on top of melodic tunes it will be very hard to be unsatisfied with this work.

Vote or Die!

Your vote doesn't matter. Flat out, hands down your vote will not dictate or even sway the outcome of one of the most important presidential elections of our time. I have to pause now and make sure one of P. Diddy's goons isn't in some shadow preparing to kill me, but I probably wouldn't see it coming anyway so what the hell let’s continue. Now saying my vote and your vote doesn't matter completely goes against everything I have been taught and raised to believe my whole life as a God fearing patriotic American. However, I look at Florida in 2004, super delegates, the Electoral College doing as they please and multimillion dollar advertising campaigns and I loose hope in the process. It seems no different to me than elementary school student council elections were the outcome is clearly and ultimately determined by which candidate’s mother bakes brownies for the whole class the morning of the election. Issues do not matter, as much as we cling to them, it is a race of image; whose groomers can create the candidate squeaky clean and pure enough to win over the key demographics in the key states. Do you think Obama and McCain have enough time to think beyond those demographics? It is not something I blame any political candidate for but it ultimately begs me to ask why, if I am just an 18-25 year old white male voter, why does my vote matter? Furthermore, as the last 5 years of my voting record seem to tell me; regardless of my vote or anyone else’s elected officials still, no matter how polished and genuine they seem to be, wind up in Washington. Do you think politicians have time and energy to devote to Joe Schmo when being pushed and pulled by the biased crooked cutthroat politics of their party? Even more so when you factor in the army of lobbyists pulling at their pockets; promising to make them richer, keep them in power longer, and maintain their political legacy. Politics isn't my scene but if I were put in that position it would seem quite impossible to focus on the little people who played small roles in placing me in office. The system is corrupt and we buy into it because it is the only one we know and it has worked fairly well for the past 200 plus years. I know my vote won't amount to much but come Election Day I'm still going to cast a ballot. But I'll tell you what I won't do; I won't hold my breath waiting for this 'change' that both candidates are promising over every media outlet every single day. What I will do is participate in the process, march happily to the voting booth and do my part to keep this flawed system from drowning in its own filth. When we do get a new leader, life will stay the same and people will continue their day to day lives and this humble writer will close his heart to politics for fear of being once again disappointed and hoodwinked by a man in a sharp suit. I suggest you do the same.