:: 2006 20 October :: 1.49 pm

all kinds of time
The clock's running down
The team's losing ground
To the opposing defense
The young quarterback
Waits for the snap
When suddenly it all starts to make sense

He's got all kinds of time
He's got all kinds of time
All kinds of time
He's got all kinds of time
All kinds of time

He takes a step back
He's under attack
But he knows that no one can touch him now
He seems so at ease
A strange inner peace
Is all that he's feeling somehow

He's got all kinds of time
He's got all kinds of time
All kinds of time
He's got all kinds of time
All kinds of time

He thinks of his mother
He thinks of his bride-to-be
He thinks of his father
His two younger brothers
Gathered around the widescreen TV

He looks to the left
He looks to the right
And there in a golden ray of light
Is his open man
Just as he planned
The whole world is his tonight

first breath after coma

:: 2006 15 October :: 2.39 am

"I do not exist,"
we faithfully insist
sailing in our separate ships,
and in each tiny caravel-
tiring of trying, there's a necessary dying
like the horseshoe crab in its proper season sheds its shell
such distance from our friends,
like a scratch across a lens,
made everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd left the bay
so half-blind we wrote these songs on sheets of salty wood

you caught me making eyes at the other boatmen's wives
and heard me laughing louder at the jokes told by their daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a steady hand to navigate adulturous waters
the propeller's spinning blades held acquaintance with the waves
as there's mistakes I've made no rowing could outrun
the cloth low on the mast like to say I've got no past
but I'm nonetheless the librarian and secretary's son
with tarnish on my brass and mildew on my glass
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone like me
but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a flashing lure
and I assure you, it was not what it expected it to be!
I still taste its kiss, that dull hook in my lip
is a memory as useless as a rod without a reel
to an anchor-ever-dropped-seasick-yet-still-docked
captain spotted napping with his first mate at the wheel
floating forgetfully along, with no need to be strong
we keep our confessions long and when we pray we keep it short
I drank a thimble full of fire and I'm not ever going back

Oh, my God!

"I do not exist," we faithfully insist
while watching sink the heavy ship of everything we knew
if ever you come near I'll hold up high a mirror
Lord, I could never show you anything as beautiful as you

first breath after coma

:: 2006 30 July :: 12.16 pm

in elementary school we had dreams of things we would do when we were just a older than we were.
in middle school and junior high we thought our old dreams uncool, so we came up with new things we were going to do in high school.
in high school, we were always too busy to do what our dreams wanted.
we always had grand ideas for the summer between high school and college, the last hurrah of childhood, but sadly for most of us, these never amounted to what we thought.

somewhere in this area we stop dreaming, for whatever reason. we stop listening to the kids in us telling us to accomplish our dreams. somewhere here we let the child in us die. we spend more time listening to what people think of us, and let them dictate to us how we should lead our lives. around this time we begin our decent. we begin to stop caring, to stop dreaming, to stop loving and stop learning.

life's far too short for us to put off our dreams, because we could be gone the next morning, leaving our list of dreams still folded up in our cold wallets. so use what time you have to do what you can. live harder, fuck harder, kiss harder, love harder, learn harder, run harder, play harder, eat harder, sleep harder, hit harder, pray harder.

because what's life if you aren't living it?

i challenge you to make a list of things that you want to do, and do them. it doesn't matter if they are lame to some and awesome to others, they are yours, your thoughts, so go and do them. climb everest, run with the bulls, fuck a celebrity (charm not drugs, of course).

i swear that every day you spend living your dreams will be the moments you carry with you for the rest of your days, the moments that cary you through the bad moments and push you to achieve more and live more.

i promise you that i will spend every day of my life, bettering myself, and living every single day.

dreams and goals:
run with the bulls at san fermin
summit denali
see the snows of kilimanjaro
spend a winter on isle royale
travel across the united states on a motorcycle
backpack across europe
cycle to the arctic ocean in alaska
see the spires of moscow
see the birthplaces of civilization in the middle east
travel the kashmir
run through the tunnel onto notre dame field
graduate from medical school

this is an incomplete list.
but i will accomplish these.


eric

1 breath | first breath after coma

:: 2006 10 July :: 12.01 am
:: Music: the fray - over my head (cable car)

first breath after coma

:: 2006 6 June :: 9.47 am
:: Mood: tired
:: Music: The Legion Of Doom - Ebola in Memphis (Every Time I Die vs Norma Jean)

1 breath | first breath after coma

:: 2006 22 April :: 3.02 am
:: Mood: frustrated

im in bed, in the quiet dark and i have to pee.
the bottles along side the bed are tempting me.
theyre saying, "hey eric, just stick the tip in here and pee on me, just do it. you know, its a long painful cold walk to the bathroom."
there is definitely a battle raging in my head over this. its like, well...i know what the "mature" thing to do is, but at the same time, i know that maturity obviously doesnt apply to my life and i should take the easy route because, hey, who the fuck cares if bottles of piss align my bedside, right? because my leg fucking is killing me right now and walking is out of the question, my knee is swollen so im fucked.

first breath after coma