I Married my Best Friend

My wife has been super supportive since I told her I wanted to upload one video every week to my Youtube channel. She knows how much time it takes to film and edit alongside my full time job and a 9 month old child at home but She is seriously the best.

Last night I got home from work at 4:00pm and proceeded to edit my video from more than 5 hours. I only stopped to help with the baby, eat dinner, and put the baby to bed (I’m trying to do my part) but my wife with a baby in hand made homemade hamburgers from scratch, both the patties and the buns. Served them in front of an episode of Community (one of my top 5 favorite shows), and then let me go back to editing.

She then went and made chocolate chip brownies (also from scratch) and sat down beside me at our extra wide desk for the both of us. Looking over my shoulder she expressed how much she loved my videos, quietly put Falling in Reverse (one of my top 5 favorite bands) on shuffle, and opened up my laptop. Sitting beside me she played some League of Legends (one of my top 5 favorite video games).

I finished my video and ate a brownie while it exported and watched my wife finish her last game of the evening. She was eager to watch my newest vlog the moment it was done, and claims it’s my best one yet. I had her help me pick the thumbnail.

It’s days like yesterday that don’t have photos taken, or vlogs made, but they’re sometimes the one’s I cherish most. So I’m writing this to remember.

You can read my blog posts from 3 years ago. I never dreamed I’d be where I am today, and I couldn’t be happier.

Seriously CJ, I love you so much.

On Hold

Is writing worth it? Do my poems matter?

Will publishing another failure make me sadder?

Why put time into something I love if it never becomes a real thing?

I can keep my head in the water above but my body’s still swimming upstream.

The life I have now is already enough. I won’t die if I give up my dreams.

Adding an accolade would only be fluff when I’m already stretched at the seams.  

Is it really giving up if I never commit?

Is my self published work way too much to omit?

Do you really climb a mountain if you never summit?

When every day life keeps you down; you submit?

At what point does desire transform into action?

You strive and aspire to grow beyond faction.

You’re looking for a buyer, spread of word, and some traction.

But lighting that fire is all but a fraction.

Passion is rarely all it’ll take

And effort can barely preserve what’s at stake.  

You need motivation to keep up the drive.

A little inspiration to keep it alive.

But nobody knows to ask you about You.

Your back burner still is kept hidden from view

Until someone wanders across what you do,

And asks you when they can get something new.

Can you really tell them how it’s all on hold?  

How you wish you were driven but you’ve never been bold.

How your last four projects were all but out sold

How you’re feeling your dream is just childish and old?…

Maybe their intrigue was all that you needed?

Your love for your work may not be conceded

Effort and energy may not be depleted

Take one hint of hope and be not defeated.

Six Alarms

(I love writing Punk lyrics for a band that doesn’t exist.)

I set Six Alarms on your phone

For the nights I sleep alone.

You’ll say “the hell?” at 1:00 AM.

And wake up pissed at 2 again.

Something’s wrong for sure at 3

By 4 you’ll start to know its me.

That 5th alarms the last? its not.

6 is on your Echo Dot.

If I can’t sleep you won’t either.

I hope you catch a gnarly fever.

I Can’t

If I can’t write you something deep and show you what is right,

How am I to be there when you fall?

If I can’t speak a work, and keep you up at night,

Should I be writing you at all?

 

I want to blow your mind.

Or somehow slow down time.

Point a pen in your direction and make you think your brain is mine.

 

 But I can’t.

 

 I’m missing that spark, that pop star flare.

That light in the dark to make you stare.

I’m just me.

 

I’ll never have the look, that award show given face.

Like a plot hole in a book I’m out of place.

I’m just me.

 

And I can’t.

 

I want to write a page of history,

Be a chapter all alone.

Your favorite part of this story,

Bring in ratings on my own.

 

But I won’t.

Because you don’t know who I am.

 

I’m just me.

 

And I can’t.

Bury Me Alive, See What Happens

**I’ve been listening to a lot of My Chemical Romance, Pierce the Veil, Motionless in White, Falling in Reverse, Asking Alexandria, etc.. I’m not in a band. But this is my Post-Hardcore song. No actual thoughts of violence behind this. Just trying to sound angsty.**

 

Feel the cold all pressed against you.

Steal the soul and past back to you.

Soil from the land around you,

Foiled like their planned “end” of you.

Chorus: 

Burst up from the ground.

Take back all you found.

Blow your “friends” a kiss before you put them all back down. 

Reach your crazy hands straight up.

Breach the daisy, roots cut up.

Fix your posture, stand right up. 

Sticks break noise, the town wakes up.

Chorus (Yelling):

Burst up from the ground!

Take back all you found!

Blow your “friends” a kiss as you smile, PUT THEM DOWN! 

 

(insert massive metal-core breakdown)

RAIN HELL!…

No one gets away!

PAIN FELL!…

All. earth. ends. today!

Burst open the ground. 

Put back all you found.

Blow the world a kiss after you burn the whole thing down. 

 

Bedded In Triumph

At this point it makes no difference to me,

What the world sees me to be.

I just gotta keep living my dreams, see,

I don’t wanna be the death foreseen for me.

When I look up in the mirror I’m disconnected

Thought I’d recognize the image but I’m disrespectin’

Who I know could be the hero in me, for direction;

But the darkness in the air around me’s so depressin’.

I wont acknowledge who I know that I am, because Im fighting for the man I know  I could be,

If I’m falling in the ring and can’t seem to stand, make posters and cheer for the losing ‘Me’.

Because I’m fighting for the knockout,

Teeth biting till the clock out,

Heart writing so I block out,

These emotions.

I’m holding back the fallout,

Till my doubt can haul out,

My opponent burns out.

Feel the notions.

I don’t ever start something, I don’t intend to win,

Which means my birth was not something, to run and wear me thin.

I’m in this for the long haul,

Don’t question where I’m headed,

My back may be against the wall,

But triumph’s where I’m bedded.