Photographs

I could say so much about that place. So many wonderful things. But most of all—and I'll stand by this until the day I move back—the best thing about that place and time was you... I look at pictures of you and remember just how intensely connected we were; being that far away from each other makes it that much more noteworthy. It seems to me that nowadays, all I incline to remember are the good memories left behind. It's not that I deny the negative aspects of things  but, more or less, like to focus on what it was that brought such an enormous smile to my sullen face.

Even to this day, I still cannot pinpoint why it is that I still talk about you. Hell, I barely even talk TO you. Regardless, upon viewing pictures of you that I've seen more than a dozen times (then and now), analyzing and studying that inimitable face, that smile, and of course, that particular nose of yours, I catch myself smiling back. And although so many queries remain unanswered, I face the fact that I was not what you wanted. It doesn't hurt really but sucks just a bit.

Because you and I, we were something else. Something I've never experienced before. And this new guy—boy, how lucky he is. And if he makes you as happy as it seems, well, then I'm happy for you as well.

It's not so idiosyncratic, what a photo can do, and how almost every time I look at yours, it's almost like traveling back in time. Because although there is not a single picture of us together that exists, for the most part, I was there with you. I know it sounds deranged to some, but it was almost as if I've lived vicariously through you and those pictures. As if I've physically been everywhere you were. I've never felt anything like that before and often ponder if I'll ever again.

I learned a vast amount about myself porque de ti. You've shown me just how deep one's personality can be, in contrast to how the exterior is so accentuated before anything else. So much emphasis is placed on vanity and not nearly enough on internal beauty, though not to state that you are unattractive. It's so obvious that I felt the yen to conjure up some sort of checklist of requirements needing to be met before considering being with me.

You? You just didn't fit any of it, José. You broke all my rules. You weren't my "type." You didn't dress how I would dress. Almost everything about you physically, wasn't something I ever envisioned being attracted to. But then, I come to find all our little similarities, all our common quirks we possess about each other. But most of all, that subtle way you made me laugh. All of that was just so outlandish to me, setting me up for an attraction on such a level I've never encountered. You've taught me to dig deeper. So much deeper, because there's always more than meets the eye.

I let it all down, José. I let ALL of my guard down. You are the very first guy to ever see the side of me that emerged after my mental breakdown. The side of me I vowed I'd never show any man, because it's too much. Sometimes it's still a little too much for me. But you infiltrated my defenses with your keen charm and alluring humor.

Of course, it all came burning down to the ground, all that remains being the ashes blowing in the zephyr, lost forever like "you and me." There are infrequent times I wish I could go back and change it, because you were supposed to be the one. But then I come back down to earth and see that I wouldn't change it for the world. It was all bound to end at some point, because let's be real, all good things must come to an end. We were certainly no exception. But I don't regret it.

Because at one point, I WAS your Eric. Maybe not in my words, but somewhere in the unfathomable depths of my broken heart. I'm not gonna say I was in love by any means. But you somehow made me believe, José.

And I thank you for that.




copyright 2011

I'm Okay Now

I'm writing to let you know That I'm okay now. And that I'm finished being dramatic. And that you really aren't a horrible person. Because people make mistakes; And who am I to hold that against you When I've made a billion of my own? You really were a breath of fresh air, An eye-opener. A ray of sunshine, Color. And though it, We, Were short-lived, A part of you still lives inside of me. And I don't think I mind that one bit, No matter how much of a front I may put on that suggests otherwise. Something in your voice tugged at me. Something about your words was so melodic. Something about your personality thrilled my timid heart, Reviving this deceased belief in a thing called love, That maybe this time, It was my turn. You've taught me more than I credit you for. And that bitter taste is dissolving from my mouth. I would've loved to be yours —"Your Eric." But the gamble we so recklessly took Worked against us. Fate and destiny did not permit for two young hearts To completely intertwine, Immerse, In that unforsaken realm Where everything really is perfect. I don't regret any of it. At all. It was simply my defense, And I'm sorry. I really do miss you, José, And can't wait to be able to see you, Actually be friends. But please don't mistake this as an attempt to rekindle that connection. It's merely my way of letting you know That I'm okay now.



copyright 2011

Treats

I stumbled upon A giant orange gummy bear. And if for a slight moment, A split second, I missed it. I missed you, As I held it in my hand, Smelled the aroma, And memories left behind Of a boy once so dear, So close, But now and forever, So far away...



copyright 2011

When Envy Transposes

I don't wanna hold claim that I started a trend over here in Springfield, MO, but it seems as if more and more aspiring musicians have made it known that they wanna make music, ever since I boldly and publicly spoke on it years ago. This is all besides the point however, but ties into what I am about to say.

Okay, so there are a handful of people I either know personally or that I only know of that have been making attempts to break into the music industry. I've noticed that a lot of them come from a family of money (or at least more money than myself); with that being said, they've been able to create actual studio demos, have professional photo shoots done, play a show at this place or that place, etc. And for awhile there, I was beginning to feel a bit of jealousy, to be completely honest, towards these people. Because they were getting noticed before me. And A LOT more recognition, at that.

I used to tell myself that it wasn't fair, because I'm just as talented as them, if not more (I'm not stating I am per se). Regardless, I would pout and ask what about ME?

Then it came to me. Why not ME? —Exactly. ME. I've since learned NOT to worry about those that may be getting a better start than me, because at the end of it all, if I know I'm gonna make it, like I say I do, because I do, than it won't matter the situation.

They can have all the money in the world. Good for them. I don't need that to get noticed. All I have is my talent. My raw talent. No demos, no head shots, no nothing. Just me. I've always been lower-middle class. But you know what? I have enough ambition and BELIEF to fill a whole stadium.

I've conditioned myself to think of it all in a different light. Instead of envying that person for what they have already, I congratulate them and try to be happy for them. And I'm doing a good job thus far. Because I know that soon, I'll get my chance. I'll get the opportunity to show ALL OF YOU just what I'm talking about when I say: "I like to think I'd make Freddie Mercury proud" or "I can do Beyoncé better than Beyoncé can do Beyoncé" (as a joke of course).

Some of it is my fault though, for not putting myself out there as much as them. But still, I think my story will be that much more inspiring, because I am WORKING FOR EVERYTHING. It's all me. I'm not using anyone else's money but my own.

So I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I think I'd much rather get a good head start in Hollywood, CA anyway. I mean honestly, there's nothing here. Why worry?


Reki*

First Thoughts This Morning

Since when are you a poet? This boy, he must have gotten you good, eh?

Hmmm...

From Songbird to King of the Jungle

I don't know how to go about starting this. So I guess I'll just aimlessly type the thoughts running through my head as of current. Ummm, where to begin is the question, as I seem to be brimming with extraneous emotions, detached from what I'm actually feeling right now at the very moment. I'm sure I'm not even making much sense. But I'll just have to remind myself to bare with me.

I'm moving. Soon. I'm moving back home to Hollywood, Los Angeles, CA. It's so peculiar to me, that place. Because the moment I stepped foot on one of its many densely inhabited sidewalks of passersby and residents, I felt right at home, as if I've lived there all my life. Every night I go to bed and wake up I hear it calling my name, tugging at my heart and soul. Something from within is ignited every time I see the city brightly lit up on my father's 50-some-inch flat-screen TV.

There is something there. Something is waiting for me in Hollywood. I have this extravagant idea of what it is too. It's convoluted, that very subject, as I attempt to explain myself to others and even my therapist, many never really seem to "get" me. I bet to most, I just sound delusional. But I know I'm not. I just know.

I used to tell everyone around me that I can FEEL it in the pit of my stomach that I, Reki*, am going to make it as an internationally known, mega-superstar musician extraordinaire. But somewhere along the lines, somewhere in-between all the internal chaos that is me, I found that I don't just feel it any longer...I KNOW it. This intuition, I suppose you could name it, transformed into factual knowledge. It's perplexing and even more difficult to try and iterate. I have so much reason to believe that I've believed this dream of mine into reality; and the more and more I work for it, towards it, believe in it, the closer and closer I reel it into my grasp. It's only a matter of time before all falls into place. It's as if I've read a history book, absorbed the information, and can recite it from heart. As if history itself has already been written, somewhere in the stars.

But of course, it has yet to happen. It's merely waiting to happen. I know, I know—it's just...hard to comprehend. I don't expect anyone to understand. They don't need to. I need to.

I like to think I have a story worth sharing with the world. A story that can reach out to people I've never seen before in my life, connect with them, bring everyone together, so much closer, through music. Music is the kind of thing that makes me want to live forever. It's the very meaning of my life. I am music. And I want to show you.

I am Reki*. Hear me ROAR.