A story I'm currently working on.

I saw you from afar. Your skin was pale underneath the warm Arizona sun. You didn't smile. You were tucked into a sweater that was two sizes too big for you. Your hair was all the colors of the rainbow. Yet... I was utterly entranced by your eyes. Luminescent orbs that showed me your soul. Bewildered, and beautiful. As you came closer, I saw more details. You had the amount of make up on that one wears when they're trying to hide the circles under their eyes from not getting enough sleep. Your body was only skin and bones. You were the kind of girl that hardly ate, barely slept, and dyed your hair every two weeks. I'd seen a million of you. Yet... Somehow you were different. There was a sense of difference in you. A sense of warmth. A silent challenge hanging in the air for someone to look past what you were on the outside. I stopped walking. I turned to you and said, "Hi." You promptly told me to "Fuck off." I didn't. I wanted to answer that challenge. I wanted to delve deep into all the secret mysteries of who you were, and who you could be. So, I asked you if you often told strangers to "fuck off." You smiled, and said, "Only the ones that act like they are interested." I laughed, and told you that I couldn't act to save my soul. You looked at the silly expression on my face, and nodded. I asked you to get coffee with me and wander around this concrete jungle that we inhabited. You looked down, deep in thought. I saw the slightly crooked grin on your face, and then you agreed. You were unique. As we sat in the coffee shop that day, and I watched you go from being loud and brash to quiet and something else. Something I couldn't quite place, until I saw you nibble on your lip, and then I knew. You were shy. It was endearing. As I found later, you were the kind of girl that would brutally punch me on the arm for a silly remark, but you were also the kind of girl that would send me 'Good Morning' texts every time you woke up. I tried my best to figure you out in the space of the hour or two we spent in that coffee shop. I thought I'd generally pieced you together, it wasn't until later that I found out how arrogant that thought was. There was a complexity to you that I hadn't found in another human being before. A depth of connection and emotion that was pure, and rare. As we got ready to leave, I paid for both of our coffees and asked if I'd get to see you again. I didn't think you would say yes. I didn't think that you were concerned about some college dropout that wasn't going anywhere with his life. There were already so many in the past that didn't care. That looked at me like some kind of failure. How could I judge you for agreeing? I knew I was a failure. I knew that I had no bright things in my near future. I was just a silly, starving artist, that played his guitar and wrote on the weekends. There are millions of me. You looked over at me as we walked out into the arid Arizona air. You smiled, and asked, "Why would I not want to see you again?" Those words brought my soul to life, and dawned a smile on my face. You didn't care about my past. You didn't care about my circumstances. That was the greatest gift that I could have ever gotten from you. You didn't know. I couldn't tell you, but I hoped that my smile was enough. I asked you if you'd like to meet me at the same coffee shop, at the same time tomorrow. You grinned, lightly shoved me, agreed, and without another word, we parted. As I turned on the corner of the street, I started skipping. All of the monotonous strangers of the crowd sneered, or start laughing as I passed by, I smiled at every one of them. A man that has first met someone he believes to be his other half is invulnerable to the stings and arrows of mockery. I ended up skipping the whole way home into my one bedroom apartment. As I closed the door, I thought of you. I laid in bed that night. I couldn't sleep. I traced the little cracks in my ceiling and made constellations. I named them after great writers that had come and gone in history. As I traced my John Donne constellation, I thought of you. I was worried. The 'what ifs' were running through my mind. Then I remembered what you had said, and all of the doubt vanished like the way a morning fog breaks before the dawn. My made up constellations glowed in my mind as I drifted off to sleep. Morning came as it does on every other day that this planet has seen. My constellations had faded in the morning light. After a quick cup of tea and a cigarette, I headed off to my dreary place of employment. At the time in my life that I met you I was working as an office drone at the local branch of some mega corporation that the world could have easily been without. Alas, the world had it anyway, and I had to attend or be promptly 'let go'. We helped with the paperwork for
their stock interests. As I said, it was rather dreary. The day passed far too slowly. Imagine for a moment that you are stuck in a room alone. There is nothing in this room. It is flat, empty, and colorless. There is nothing to distinguish the floor from the walls or ceiling. White, empty space, nothing more. Imagine that you are alone in this room, with nothing to do. Not even anything to play around with like we humans do when we are bored. Imagine being there for eight hours, then you might have an idea of what work was like for me that day. Good things come to those that wait though. For every second of eternity I spent in that place, I was one second closer to seeing you. That had to count for something. It did. As I left work I had to physically stop myself from running. I passed through the streets quickly enough regardless. I turned the corner to the coffee shop, and stopped in my tracks. There you were. God does send angels to earth from time to time. Or so I believed. You were wearing that same over sized sweater with a simple pair of blue jeans. As I started walking towards you I noticed that the day was rather cloudy. I had been in such a hurry to see you that the details of the day slipped from my mind. As I got closer, I noticed something else. Through all of the clouds, the sun still shone on you. Miracles happen. The sun was made to shine upon your face. Such ethereal beauty was too pure and rare for this earth. Only the stellar ranges of the all encompassing universe could hold you. The stars were made to be your raiment. You saw me approaching and smiled. God, I am unworthy, I thought. You waved me over. I finished walking over, and said, "Hello." You laughed, and remarked, "Hi there." We walked inside, ordered our coffee, and sat down.We started the conversation off lightly, I told you about my day at work, and how slow the day had passed by. I was still dying to delve into all of
the mystery that hovered around you, but I was patient. With your shyness, you could be like a deer and run at the first sign of someone trying to get behind your walls and into your mind. For the walls were there. Many of them. I had a feeling that the darkest mystery of all would be the reason that you kept all of these walls. You started talking about your job at the time. I was amused to find that you worked in a coffee shop. "Why would you want to come to a coffee shop with me then? You must get sick of coffee all the time!", I exclaimed. You nibbled on your lip, and said, "Because a girl does not turn down free coffee with a cute boy that looks like he might actually be an honest person." "Honest people are too few and far between to let them slip through your fingers like that." I laughed, and asked, "Is that all?" You laughed at the strange expression on my face, and replied, "Well, yeah. That, and you seem to be different from anyone I've ever met. You laughed when I told you to 'fuck off'. Not many do that." 

Music: City And Colour

If any of you get the chance, listen to City and Colour. It's the artist name for Dallas Green who is also the lead guitarist and vocalist for Alexisonfire. Give him a listen. It's well worth your time. Be prepared for some sadness though. His lyrics and vocals really bring a sense of melancholy about them. Not in a bad way either. His songs are quite glorious. If you take a listen, post a comment below with your favorite song of his. My personal favorite is Comin' Home. Enjoy.

The wonders and glories of a good author never end.

"It was worth blood and fear of death to see her fall in love with him. Just a little. Just the first faint breath of love, so light she probably didn't notice it herself. It wasn't dramatic, like some bolt of lightning with a crack of thunder following. It was more like when flint strikes steel and the spark fades almost too fast for you to see. But still, you know it's there, almost where you can't see, kindling."

Patrick Rothfuss

I've been reading The Wise Man's Fear all of today and the power of his written word keeps stealthily striking at me. Truly the power of gods is within the words we write down onto the simple paper page.

An excellent and true piece of language.

"So yes. It had flaws, but what does that matter when it comes to matters of the heart? We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing 'because'. That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something 'despite'. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect."

Patrick Rothfuss

A fact commonly known, yet seldomly actually acknowledged.

The best things in life aren't easy. You have to fight for them. You have to shed blood, sweat, tears, and even the limits of your sanity. Past the point at which most sane people have given up, you press onwards. That's when you know you have something special. That's when you know you have love.

Comfortable Silences

A little something I wrote for myself.

Just the basic hand holding, being close, and light kisses on the cheek. Most people don't even think about it. Don't even realize that they are sharing it. It is something that sort of hides in the background until you realize that it isn't there. It is more important than anyone that has it realizes. I write this hoping to remember, when or if I manage to find this again, to truly realize how much it means to me. Laying in bed next to a girl who likes being there just as much as I do, in a silence, not of awkward nature, but of being completely comfortable in each other's presence.

An odd wish.

I want to be a hero. Holding back the darkness with a candle. Ever vigilant. Ever noble. Needing no recognition. Holding no pride. Just a flickering light against the tyranny, ignorance, injustice, and corruption in this world. A light against evil. I want to protect those that can not protect themselves. I want to protect these kids from being corrupted at an ever younger age. I want to heal broken hearts, souls, and minds. I want to end suffering for everyone I can reach. That is what it means to be a hero. Selflessness.