Christmas Card Address Round-up

Hey y'all! Yes, it's that time of the year again...
If you'd like a Christmas card from me, I'd love to send you one. ^_^

Addresses, go!

Backyards and football and sliding glass doors.

The only thing worth updating about:

Seeing Shannon at David Bazan!

She was standing directly behind me right before David went on to perform. 
I seriously haven't seen this girl in years. 
And I miss her terribly. 
I miss all you old folks terribly.
Life ruins everything! 



Never grow up, never give in?

(I definitely just got done perusing old ILOVEKELLERHARBIN xanga entries).

seriously y'all.
I miss you guys.

I keep trying to eat this forbidden fruit.
The vengeance is yours.
The power is yours.
Control has never been in my hands.
You're giving me gardens.
I'm watching them grow.
But the only thing I want is what you've told me I can't have.

The dinner table looks different for everyone.

For some, it is in a dining room –
Family seated around a wooden masterpiece,
Manners and light conversation
Secured by a fence.

It is on the couch.
Television pounding.
Telephones ringing.
Voices chattering.
Leftovers waiting for loved ones as they come home.

It is a fast food restaurant
and the only option
is the ninety-nine cent menu
No one cares that in ten, twenty, thirty years -
the hospital bills won’t care how cheap your food was.

It is the front porch
or the backyard
the grill on fire
and dad drinking one too many.

It is in a park
on a bed of grass
with your closest friends
and a peanut butter sandwich you made from home.

It is the search for a one dollar meal,
and the man counting change at the only vacant table
is being asked to move
for your consideration.

It is in a place
where you are completely alone.
with your thoughts
and your homemade platter of wonder.

As far as I’m concerned,
I have eaten dinner at them all.

If I were a writer
I would paint you an ornate introduction of landscapes and sceneries filled with color and care.
It would be an art form.
My art form.
And the readers reading my art would care too much about the painting to even notice what happens next.
For all they care I can teach them about religion through allegory and hypocrisy sort of like Jesus did when he tried out parables.
They didn't listen then.
They don't listen now.
They're too busy glancing at the scenery,
and I'm the one painting the pictures.

Everything is inevitable.
But I’m at least going to try.
Most people don’t know it,
but being stubborn is really hard work.

Moving

If I ever left this place to go to a new place,
I'd be scared out of my mind.
I would need to take someone with me.
Someone fun.
Someone I like.
And in our new place we would make new friends and do new things.
And we would bring our new ways back to our old place whenever we visited,
and our old friends would think we became crazy
and fun
and cool
but still crazy.
I would go, but I just won't go alone.

Fear is a staple,
A T-shirt,
A crutch.
It is the reason I'm sitting here
Not exploring the world.