The future looks good.

K. seems very happy about some new revelations she has been having about what she wants to do with her life. That makes me very happy, too. I'm really looking forward to sharing many cups of coffee in the morning with her, and many glasses of wine in the evening, and everything in between. And I'm glad that she might be finding something that she loves to do. As much as we love each other, everybody needs to be able to pursue something that they can claim as their own. And, by God, you'll know this woman by her works. They couldn't have been made by anybody else. No matter what she does.

But Don't Worry, Darling

When I ate
the sweetest
fruit I ever ate I
bit deep
and filled my mouth with
soft flesh
and
the
juice
ran
down
my
chin.

When I lick
my lips
I can still taste
phantom nectar,
and then none
of the fruit
shipped to the supermarket
in floating chlorine bath houses
across rough
trade routes
stirs
my appetite.

Humbert Humbert

I'll never get
Humbert Humbert
's hard on
for Lolita.
And it's not just
that I hate the idea
of getting dirty
looks
from the proper sort.

It's because
I
want everything
he does not.
He hungers
for more forbidden
fruit.
The ripe pears
and melons
that tempted old Humbert
Humbert's gag reflex
make my mouth
water.

Misanthrope

His hair is the sun
bleached tall grass,
which had clung
to his scalp
as he lay in the fields,
age eight.

But his hands
are cracked
from bending steel cables
to his will,
a will bought up
and bent out
by Wagner and Warner
Manufacturing, INC.
for the
past
two
decades.

If he ever delved
his finger into the cool
rich soil
of his youth,
the dirt
would only cake
his raw joints
and burn,
burgeoning
infection.

Hamlet

When I was young
I flipped Hamlet
the bird.
"What a useless fuck.
Just do
anything
as long as it's
something."
Back then I knew
exactly
what I'd have done.
I'd have gutted my
Greasy traitor
uncle
but spared my Mom.
It would have been
a play in one
Act.

That's what I
told myself.
Now I think
that deciding
can be a bitch,
and that I would rather jump in
a coral reef
head first
than risk my soft belly being rubbed
raw.

Hamlet still
pisses me off
but for a different reason.
It's the way he drove himself
and eveybody he talked to
bat shit crazy
by worrying whether
he was fucking it all up,
both acting
and not acting.

It's such a drag
always getting riled
up over what is, and is
not.
And maybe his Dad
was just an asshole
anyway.

Black Coffee

Sitting on a cracked stool,
red as the dried out blood amber
of the northside Vegas streets
which had shrivelled
like a moldy orange
outside our usual cafe
I mistook
the patter of her chewed nails
on the speckled egg shell table top
for caffeine jitters

I sipped my thick, stale
cup of black coffee
and asked about the weather
in Vegas
and whether or not she missed how
the Virginia landscape flashed
in our windows
when the lightning
struck.

She nodded slightly
laughed coldly
and smiled
like she felt
the rainstorm blowing
in.

I couldn't get to sleep last night

I was pretty furious about something. You ever have one of those nights where you know you just need to get some sleep and deal with something in the morning, but you're so angry or upset that you can't slow your mind down enough to rest? I was having one of those nights.

Anyhow, I wrote this, to help exorcise my fucked up cycle of thoughts, and it helped me get to sleep. It's basically stream of consciousnes/free association. But it was sort of intereting, so I thought I'd throw it out there.

You don't have to comment on it or anything, unless you have something to say.

I just like to put things out there that I write. I overheard some people talking about burning old love letters. That's sort of what sharing my writing is like. Once it's legitimately outside of my mind and available for other people to read, it's got a life of its own. It's not a symbiont anymore.

Toss/turn

Turned around,
or tossed aside?
Limbs of my mind
Tangled up
in a six quilted
Pantomime.

Fertile bedroom plots
Squirm with scientific
Methods, to madness,
Testing my limit
Which equals
Undefined.

A lost pen left
no work shown. Just
Blotted ink on the tongue
tied up from chasing
words to help explain.
But both sides split the difference,
staining twain.

Morning light never learned how
to cast black magic hypotheses,
just aspersions
on last night's heavy eyelids.

Neat!

I just made this post from my new phone. Very cool.

Here's to techmology!

R.R.K.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Counselling and Lifestyle Changes

I have recently begun therapy to help me deal with parts of my childhood. For those of you who know me well, you most likely already know why I have chosen to undergo therapy. Otherwise, I'd rather not go into the details in such an open forum.

But, this decision has been coming for about 5 or 6 years. I've worked out a lot of the basics on my own, but just knowing why you're messed up isn't always the be-all end-all of personal revelations. I may know WHY I feel the way I feel. I want to know how to CHANGE the way I feel. Not who I am. But how I live, day in and day out. How I relate to the people I love. How I survive in my professional life.

I'm starting cognitive behavioral therapy, to achieve this end. I like the format, because there is a definite timeline for the therapy, and goals to achieve. I am determined to take the therapy seriously and be dedicated to the process. I have high hopes that it will bear fruit.

In other news, but you might say related news (this is all about health, after all), I am beginning a nutrition and exercise program under the supervision of my Uncle Vito, who is a doctor. I have swam for 30-40 minutes the past couple days, and intend to continue this schedule daily, slowly increasing the amount I swim. I have also changed to a "weight watchers" style of nutrition. I intend to eat a salad with chicken breast every day for lunch, and eat a healthy dinner with my family every night after I swim. I think that I already feel a little more energized.

I love to swim. Bottom line, I love to swim. And I'm glad I've found an exercise that I love, and that doesn't ruin my knees/ankles, which have been consistently problematic.


As happy as I am about these positive developments in my life, I still miss my most darling Darling. If I had to do any of this without knowing we would see each other soon, and be together again permenantly a little bit down the line, I feel like I would crumble or despair. But because sweet K. remains here in this life with me, I shall not despair.

And more and more every day, I will try to make sure to put God first, so that I may never despair.

Love and health to you all,

R.R.K.

The downside of working all the time.

So, I've been working 65-75 hour weeks since I arrived. True, there's some down time that doesn't really count as 'work hours' since I'm doing things like this blog. But, I'd say a good 55-60 hours of true, honest to God work gets done. And aside from that, my "downtime" is still spent at work.

I'm not saying this to complain. I love that I am able to dedicate so much of my time to a cause I believe in.

But, sometimes I will look at a truly beautiful drawing or read a particularly poignant blog entry or short story or passage in a book I'm reading, I feel stirred, like a burning hunger in my belly, to create something.

Often in the morning, I see my yellow fountain pen sitting, forlorn, on my nightstand, and consider bringing it with me into work. I do not, because I would rather do it justice than take it like a security blanket into a space where neither my heart, my soul, or my mind are completely free to be my own.

And, new duties come up suddenly in life, I've found. I intended to take time to write this Sunday. However, as soon as I woke up, I heard my cousin Bo was having trouble editing highlights from the Virginia state championship game for Lacrosse, in which he coached the winning team. His team was having an awards banquet in celebration of their victory, and he wanted to provide them with a simple highlight reel to music, but wasn't really tech savvy enough to make it happen in time. So, seeing that I could do it fast enough if I put my mind to it, I helped him instead. Helping my family is always rewarding, but I was too exhausted mentally at the end of the day to put pen to paper. And I think I may burst into flames if I don't burn words to paper instead.

I miss my dearest, my darling K. I miss every adventure we could have, no matter where in the world we were. There is beauty, and love of creation, and thankfulness to God which can be shared in every moment, and I miss having her by my side, because I have shared in those things more fully with her than with anyone else in my life.

My longing for her can be paralyzing, but it also instills a truly fiery passion in my gut which drives me to take in as many beautiful and wonderful things as possible, simply so I can dream that she is with me, seeing all those things. I want the record of my mind's chaos to be put to paper, not so I can understand it better, but so that she can see it, and perhaps smile at my humanity.

Oh, darling, darling, my dearest, most wonderful girl. I burn so many ways for you.

Here's to all who have loved, and all who have longed,

R.R.K.

Work.

Campaigns are difficult, because you rarely ever agree completely with the person you are campaigning for. At least, not on every single issue.

Nonetheless, even when this is momentarily disheartening, it is very exciting to work for somebody whom you believe in and trust. My cousin Tom is one such person. Even when I have a different concept of an ideal policy, I am completely behind the ethic which drives his desire to be politically engaged. And, more importantly, his philosophy of discovering what our real goals should be in public policy, and gearing his discussion of policy towards accomplishing those goals, is the most important step our nation could take away from partisan politics.

I am incredibly excited to continue working on this campaign. I started work the day after I got here, and have been working an average of 10 or more hours a day. But, I feel much better having a positive and productive place to work, and a room of my own.

But, I miss my home, for she is sweet.

Travels: Nearly completed.

I am fairly exhausted, so I will make this brief. This is my final night on the road. By tomorrow evening, I will be in Virginia, starting a completely new chapter in my journey across the continent. Although I am sometimes close to being overwhelmed by my self doubt and insecurities, my small failures and my lapses in judgement, I will continue to take comfort in two things.

First, even when I fall hard, God has said it's alright to stand back up again, and even gives a hand up.

Second, I have a wonderful girl who supports me and believes in me. And more importantly, who will love me even when I fall, so that I am not afraid to sometimes take risks and try new things. Even when they don't work out, she cheers me on, either to try again or try the next thing. And for that, I am grateful both to her and to God for creating her.

Actually, there's a third group I want to be thankful to. I want to thank all my friends who have supported me and challenged me on my spiritual walk. I love you all, too.

Anyhow, I guess it really is true. One journey's end is another's beginning.

Sincerely cliched,

RRK

Tattoo Picture

The marks we leave on each other

Today my brother and I got matching tatoos in the center of of backs of celtic shield knots. I'll put up some pictures later.

But, it got me thinking about the marks we leave on each other. These tattoos symbolize a connection between my brother and I which would exist with or without the tattoos. They were more of an affirmation of something true than the creation of something new.

When we touch each others lives, we change each other. We can even give each other hope. Hope that we are not alien to everybody around us. I just wrote about how the ways we love each other can change us for the better, so I won't go too deeply into this. But, I think that it is important to remember that we are not alone or separate from each other, even when the distance between our bodies seems great. Often, our souls still touch, and our relationships leave an imprint which marks us far deeper than skin level.

And so, because my brother and I shared a common childhood and faced common obstacles (and still do) we will always have common cause with each other. And even when we part from each other, we are never abandoned. We both have still existed, and that means I am not a complete stranger in this world.

I feel that way about K. too. I don't really want "matching" tattoos with her, but I saw a few bird tattoos which our artist had done, and it made me want to mark my body with a bluebird whose silent, joyful song would reflect the bluebird which K.'s love has birthed within my heart, whose beautiful melody cheers me even when I'm sad. She said there is no home where I am not, and I know there is no home where she is not. But, she is ever in my heart, and I hope I am always in hers. And there, in that imprint, in that unbreakable but thread-thin connection, I feel like I am more at home wherever I am in this world than I have ever been before I was with her. So, I take comfort in that fact until I can return to my true home, the warm embrace of my love's arms. I take comfort, and I consider marking myself with a little bluebird to keep me company on the long road home.

Love makes us better than we are

My brother drinks too much. Far too much. I am often upset by his regular blackouts and his excessive tendencies. However, I am only upset because I care about his wellbeing and his behavior concerns me. If I did not love him, I would not feel such terror when I watch him stumble to the dance floor, completely devoid of his senses. I would not actually try to decipher his nonsensical sentences muttered from the passenger seat as I drive him home from yet another night of him drinking alone at a bar while I sit and watch on as he slowly departs from planet Earth. I would not dread the possibility that something serious might happen to him during one of his binges, and that I would be left wondering what more I could have done to save him from himself.

He has his reasons, and he certainly has chosen a career path which I would never have been able to handle. I have nothing but respect for his decision to serve his fellow countrymen by committing himself to military service, but I fear that it is not the best place for him to overcome the obstacles to a healthy life which we both share. I certainly will not judge him. The same tendencies toward excess flow through my veins, and the same traumas haunt my soul. I feel the beast inside of me clawing to get out. In every moment, there is the potential for almost every vice and every virtue beating from my heart. And, in my day, I certainly have indulged in my share of both. In that sense, we are equally criminals, just as we are equally redeemed.

I must repeat, it is only my love for him which drives me to feel, irrationally, that he could be better than he is. Perhaps more importantly, love drives me to believe he could be better than I am. Sometimes it is all I can do to resist doing wrong. I very rarely find the strength to truly do anything good.



If anything has changed me for the better, I must credit love once more. My love for K. has driven me to desire to be a better man for more than eight years. In the past year, I have been lucky enough to share in a relationship with her, and she challenges me constantly to keep my focus on what is right and true, not only what is expedient. Because of her, I have not despaired, even when I felt tempted to indulge in such emotional debauchery. Because she exists, I know I am not alone in this world. I have found a few other souls who share such common cause with my heart, like N., and G. But K. has certainly been my closest and dearest friend for as long as I can remember being a man, if any of you should suffer to consider me one at all.

Without her companionship keeping my mind, body, and soul firmly rooted in reality, I may never have believed that love existed at all. I may have believed, as my brother does, that we should not care for anything or anyone (except, perhaps, for family). That nothing matters, and that life has no meaning.

My debt to K. for teaching me to believe in love is important for one reason. If I would have never believed in love, I could never have believed in God, or understood the wisdom which Christ brought to man. His message is more than the golden rule. His ministry describes the existence of an absolute Good, of a single Creator, of a world that is not mere chaos and chance. My love for God who is Good, more than any other love in my life, makes me desire to be a good man. I hope I would have sought this love without K., but I cannot know for sure. And so, I am eternally grateful to her, simply for existing exactly as she is, so that I could love her.



Before I decided that Christ perfectly embodied what is Good for man, before I believed in God, my belief in love's transformative power made me believe that absolute Good must exist in the Universe. I believed in order. I believed in a life that could have true meaning. Through countless discussions and contemplations and self reflections, I have come to believe that Good and Christ are synonymous, as far as mankind is concerned. For this reason, I believe in the one true God which he extolled, and I consider myself a Christian.

If I did not love and believe in a Good and perfect God, I would not want to be anything different than what I am. I would not believe that there was anything better than what I am. I would have no other standard to hold myself to than my own whims. Where would another standard come from? And yet, even by making my own impulses my moral standard, I would not be able to love what I am, or what any other human is. We are faithless, we are selfish. We are terrible. Not always, true. But our occasional transgressions are enough to make us hateful creatures.

But I do believe in a Good and perfect God. I believe that man is called to be better than we are, and that each man knows it in his heart when he does wrong. We can become very good at ignoring our own conscience, but it never dies. I believe that a perfect example of man's purpose in this world is not only found in Christ's life, but deeply tied to the entire story of his coming and his sacrifice. I do not feel that knowledge of his life is essential to communion with God, but I believe there is no better start.



However, I also believe that there is no historical or fictional character more sorely abused for evil purposes than Christ. In my opinion, to believe in Christ without constantly trying to better understand his example of mankind's purpose is to have no faith at all. If you only ask "what do I have to do to be saved?", then you will be vulnerable to the worst deceoptions. Fear of damnation can help us control our actions, but it cannot help us to better understand our role in this life. Fear will inevitably be abused by church officials and religious rabble rousers to convince mobs of terrified 'believers' that they must commit some awful crime to ensure their salvation. I hope none of you ever finds yourself so awfully deceived.

Instead, as K. often says to me, let us ask ourselves what would make us pleasing to God. We should not ask this out of a desire to avoid a terrible smiting, but instead because we love God, and desire his love in return. Thankfully, it is not perfection that is asked of us, but only a desire to serve our Good and Beautiful creator.

And yes, the serving part is pretty essential to our purpose. We are not called to judge, or to enact God's wrath upon those who do not love God as we do. Instead, we are called to serve them, and love them. We are called to give of ourselves, and never to take from another what they have not given to us freely.



If love is the only force in this world that can transform us for the better, than our love for God and God's love for us are the only forces that can actually save us from ourselves. No other love is perfect enough to offer that kind of forgiveness. I am only thankful that it is freely given. We will all stumble and fail, but God is steady. God has faith when we are faithless.

May I always strive to be worthy of His love. And when I falter, may Christ raise me from the death of my disobedient heart, as he raised Lazarus to walk again, upright and clean. May I keep my faith close to my heart and soul, but never closed in. And most importantly, may I find the strength to love those around me as best as I know how without wearing myself down, so that anyone who opens his eyes in darkness in search of light might see God's work on me and find hope.



And even as I pray these things, know this. If these wishes express the best and most earnest yearnings of my heart, you will also hear the most terrible cries of my excessive nature and the most insidious whispers of my nagging doubt throughout the coming months. Although the best and worst of voices all still flourish inside my breast, I declare, now and forever, that I do not have to succumb to my baser self. As I said before, every moment of my life contains the potential for every vice and every virtue, but there is also a choice in each of these moments, and that choice remains mine alone.



With love and hope for all my brothers and sisters, believing and unbelieving,

R.R.K.