Ranger cabin

Tough.
Like an overlooked New York Strip.
Tough.
Like dealing with an eleven year old who won't stop crying because he misses his parents.

Each night, the man enjoys peering across the lake to see a setting sun. Each time being a reminder that his time is drawling near.

Jumbled thoughts

It's not the blind man who is at a disadvantage. It is the man with vision who chooses not to see that is truly at a loss. And I, well I believe that I have become the second.


You leave your heart chords open to be strummed by others. And usually, they end up moving on. Like you're a used instrument in a 7th grade band that never really made it.
Trapped.

.

+

She's a pretty girl, but she's always falling down. And I think I just fell in love with her.
And I can always find her, in the bottom of a plastic cup. Drowning in drunk sincerity, a sad and lonely girl.

Superior

Day thirty-six of the Great American experience.

And as the man peered across Superior Lake, he had but one thought. It was her.

Writing a letter

It seems that we are all just fireflies floating in the rays of a setting sun. Our spontaneous colors are a reminder that a flame that once burned bright is no longer around.
And that, well that's the shit that can keep a man up at night. Keep a man aching because of the cold bedside he occupies. That's the shit that cuts deeper than any knife or blade.
Writing a letter.
It's kind of like taking a leap from a sixty foot cliff. Will there be water at the bottom to cradle you gently?

Wdpek

One month and nineteen days.
The memories you conjure still make me smile. The giving tree picture drawn up from half a year ago still remains pinned to the wall lying bedside.

Giving tr

And a lot of the time now, I find myself at a loss of words. I wish that I could write you a letter or send a text without feeling guilty. You told me that you'd get back to me, but never did. I'm guessing that was your answer. Wish it wasn't like that though.
A nonth ago tonight was our first night apart. Thirty days gone.

Pinned into the wooden wall lying next to my head is a picture. It depicts the 'Giving Tree' with two initials in the middle. Around the edges are the lyrics to Jimmy Eats World song The Middle. Most people would look at it and think nothing, but it holds a certain meaning.

Zorba

The grey shadows who dance along the walls might be looking down on me, but that doesn't mean that they are coming for me.

Real

Sometimes when you flip a quarter it lands on heads, and the other time it lands on tails. Life is just a guessing game in the end. You never really know what to put your trust into until time has passed and you can tell if it was a good decision.. And you, well you were the best decision I made. But life is like flipping a quarter; it just didnt land in my favor this time. So I'll keep playing this game and see where the road leads me. Silverfox himself used to tell me 'the best is always around the corner.' It's always hard to see the light in a dark situation, but it's always there. Wether or not we choose to believe this is the question though. And I, well I am an eternal optimist.

...

Fate fell short this time, your smile fades in the summer.

I just feel dumb when I think about it.

fuck/

And today I was soaring high above a clear blue lake. Looking around, I couldn't help but appreciate the majestic beauty..
And then I was told the news...

Away

And know that after all the lights have been turned out, and the loons have given their meloncholy melody, I am awake. Reading letters from the past desperately wishing that they would serve as a teleporter so I can lay next to you. Hoping that your words can bring me solace. Longing for your nurturesome touch.

hubert

and boy, you should've seen it.
The way the rising sun produced an amber reflection across a lake. A lake with water as smooth as glass. A crystalline reflection of the surrounding birch trees which had reached timberous heights from hundreds of years of growth.
and boy, you should've seen it.
the way the mist broke across a main lawn covered with a heavy layer of dew. Each step leaving a footprint. Each footprint bringing the man closer to the scenic beauty.
And what it all reminded the man of... Well, was her.

Nis

So realize that when it rains it pours. And I know that just around the corner is a brilliant sunrise. So whoever might be standing next to me when I look onto this sunset, well, I'll hold her tight.

unbelievable

and it's always raining in Minnesota. So maybe these overcast skies leave a foreboding trace of the ominous truth which I wish so vehemently to deny.  I can see through you- and I know that when you tell me one thing, duplicity in your speech exists. It seems that only half of the truth is only shared. The other half is hidden elsewhere, tucked firmly next to your internal sensor that wishes only to satisfy both parties.

Honesty.

The trait I find to be the most important above all others. I've lived my life as a lie, so obtaining the one thing which I have ran from my whole life carries a certain significance. And you know this; so why would you continue on with this facade?