It takes a scrawling on a bathroom wall to realize what I stand for, realize that my life must take a turn. Now this time I've criticized and I've spoke of something more, spoke of something real in this fantasy world. We spent that entire weekend lying out in the grass, singing songs about our histories and what is yet to be. There was something invigorating about those first days of spring, I found the joy of a midnight ride in the dirt on my barefeet. These days, they find us standing at the border, of everything we know, and all that life could be. If this isn't feeling right, there's something better. And it's for sure within our reach. I'm never gonna live in a place like this again. Soon I will be off to live with folks I've never met. All this time I've been other places in my mind, but the places I've called home, I could never forget. Staying up all night, reading books we couldn't understand and eating food with which our hearts and stomachs disagreed. There was something extraordinary about those first days of spring. I found the love of a life in the dirt on my barefeet. I know we've been on the road before. But this time, it's gonna be different. And I've said goodbye to towns before, but this departure's probably permanent. Everything honest, I'll keep. A piece of my heart, I will leave. From this coveted plague that follows me, I can't escape, but I'm gonna keep on running.

The cupboard's clean. The fridge is empty. Just like our stomachs, not like our hearts. But it's alright. I'll grab a backpack and a flashlight, we've all got bikes, and it's only a couple of miles away to that big box behind the grocery where they leave us meals three times a day. No one here will go hungry tonight. We worked for months out in the garden, we found solace in the summer sun. And as we sang we watched row by row a-growing, now my basket's overflowing with vegetables and fruit. A little patch of dirt and a lot of love, now we have food. No one here will go hungry tonight. Hey, we're doing great. But take a look around and see that the world has gone to hell. People are starving both overseas and on our own streets, brothers, sisters, friends and neighbors, we must resist and subvert this system that thrives on exploitation and greed. We'll fight until the day we all can sing. No one here will go hungry tonight.

When I was a child, and at night I couldn't sleep, I'd holler for my mother, to ask if she would read to me. She told stories about the past, poems passed down for years, there's one I remember best, it still sounds oh so clear. A little boy and little girl wouldn't heed their elder's warnings, wouldn't do as the were told, and they were disappeared by morning. Snatched up through the ceiling before they had a chance to hide, by two great big black things, a-standing by their side. I wasn't too scared then but now I'm haunted everyday. What once was just a story, has become our reality. The goblins gonna get ya if you don't watch out, I'm reminded everyday of my life. I hear them talking amongst themselves, hear them talking everyday. I hear them talking behind our backs, and I think I hear them say, "How can we keep these kids in line? How can we make them understand, that in this kingdom of gods, the power's in our hands? That work is life and life is work, and reality's a shame? How can we keep them pacified, keep them complicit in our games? We'll get 'em while they're young, start with empty threats. Every year that passes by, the easier it gets. Every year that passes by, the harder it becomes to escape." The goblins gonna get ya if you don't watch out, I'm reminded everyday of my life. From the first days of elementary to the day we graduate they choose the books, write the facts, allocate the grades. Make the rules, write the laws, and choose the punishment, and if you give 'em twenty years, it's certain that you'll get a certificate of participation, documentation of your worth, as a worker in this system, salt shaker of the earth. But if you try to stand up, if you don't stay in your seat, then you'll live a life of squalor, and die cold out on the streets. On the streets, all on your lonesome, in the gutters you will lie, and when the goblins come to get you, you'll have nowhere you can hide. The goblins gonna get ya if you don't watch out, I'm reminded everyday of my life. So now we recognize the system, realize we must resist. To keep a little bit of dignity, we stood up and raised our fists. When the fascists came to town, we called up all our friends to have a party in the streets, and demand that this shit end. We gathered up some food, built some bikes and beds. The night before our friends arrived, we lay down to rest our heads. We suddenly awoke when they smashed down the door, and with guns drawn and aimed, ordered us down to the floor. And as those great big black things bound us up to take us away, I could hear that bedtime omen, like it was yesterday. The goblins gonna get ya if you don't watch out, I'm reminded everyday of my life.

The quiet of the night is broken by the cackle of that cylinder in her hand, and with the pass of an arm, it's plastered there. Both to inspire, and to offend. A porchlight cuts through the dark two or three houses down. She hears the pig's sirens from way across town. Echo, the soles of her shoes slap the empty street and she's off to the safety of friends. When there is such a desperate need, such a desperate need for change, a vandal and an activist can be one in the same. We don't have the time to wait for progress to be brought by a politician. If we don't take the stand, then who's to blame? Bottle shatters on the hood of a squad car. On his face, he can feel the flame. And he can feel the warmth in his heart from the others that felt the same. And the chaos is still for a moment, the combat zone in the streets seems a far-away place, but then the storm came rushing back, for him, it is the war that never ends. Everyone looks up to the sky. Silence comes over the crowd. They've been marching and singing together all day, the chants they're still ringing loud. Scarves, hoods and masks all discarded, huddled together to witness the sight. On top of that pole, flames replaced the greatest fucking lie. When there is such a desperate need, such a desperate need for change, a vandal and an activist become one in the same. We don't have the time to wait for progress to be brought by those greedy bastards. If we don't fuck it up, then we're to blame.

An absent smile from across the room. How many years went by without a word? I want this right here to keep me but I don't know which side will win. A new beginning or tradition? Our reunions become funerals. But silence does not suffice for goodbye. Our reunions become funerals. And a stranger writes the eulogy. If we come back to this place in five, ten, or fifteen years, will we have something more to share? Will all our eyes remain dry over all of that time or will we show that we're not afraid to care? I'm taking notes, making calls, carving thoughts into the walls, because I know that we can't let this time slip by. What better do we have to do than share this life before we die?

They tell me history is the future, please tell me it's a fucking lie. Let us not repeat these wars of our fathers, and love the people that they taught us to despise. They tell me history is the future, please tell me that it's a joke. Let us tear down for good all these borders, and learn to look beyond the mirrors and smoke. Think to myself, we don't need their histories, only the stars, they light a path across the night sky and lead us where we want to be. We're learning to trust our desires and to follow our hearts, they call us dreamers but we're sure not asleep. They tell me history is the future, please tell me that it can't be. Because if this is the truth, I don't want a single word. Exploitation, injustice, nor greed. They tell me history is the future, please tell me that it's not true, because I've been hoping for a life that's much brighter, I've been hoping we could build something new. I've been hoping for a life that's much brighter, looking up at the night sky with you.

Every sleepless night brings me closer to the other side. The ghosts are ever present in the corners of my eyes. Rise without waking after laying down without sleep. As light as air, the wind blows, and I follow. Don't leave me alone, not this time, because I need you here to help me keep my mind. I saw a light go down the hall and under the door. It's not the only thing floating around this house tonight. I hope that the knock on the door is you because I would like to have you here, to spend the night and help me get some sleep. Stay close to me. Please do not leave 'til I'm asleep.

She asked me, "Why are we still inside when there is so much to be found? You know there are plenty of abandoned buildings in this old abandoned town, so let's get out and explore because tonight, the good days are here again! I know this old abandoned house next to the highway on the hill, and the second story window has fallen right out of the sill, and if you give me a lift, we'll be inside in no time, what do you say?" I said, "I'd love nothing more than to spend this night by your side, and what's more, perhaps we'll see a ghost tonight!" We rode up to the house and leaned our bikes on a big old tree, and I started to get nervous, she said, "Don't worry, you're with me. And there's nothing we should fear in this town that is our home." We could feel the shattered glass as our feet hit the old wooden boards and the smell of musty boxes filled the air, and the light through the window cast our shadows across the floor. And by our heads sat a pile of forgotten memories, that on our knees we sifted through. We conjured up the ghost of a lady that we never knew. While combing through the wreckage of a life pushed to the edge of oblivion, we found a path that we could share, saw your prints in the trails we chose to follow. There's more than one common drop of blood that runs through each of our veins. But will we all end up the same? Oh Dorothy, they left you alone with all of your things in boxes and in sheets, but I'll carry this heart forever.

I wonder if somehow this all would be better if I could just smile and say goodbye, and hold my shit together, but it’s been such a long time, since I’ve shed a tear, and there is no use pretending that we’re not gonna miss you around here. Or that I’m not gonna miss you when I wake up each morning and I can’t walk down to the garden to meet you for tea. Or that I am gonna miss you as if you were in Columbus, because Bloomington is much further away from the great salt sea. Seems like no time at all has passed since the day you came to town but if I took the time to sit and write all of my memories down, how many volumes I would write is not really clear, but one thing is for certain, that we’re gonna miss you around here. But I’m sure you’ll find home there, because I’ve been there before and there are shit-tons of nice kids there, with open hearts and unlocked doors, and I can’t wait to come visit, I am so anxious to go. We’ll go for hikes in the mountains, we’ll ride a train to the coast.

I’ll keep climbing the fences, and crossing the line until I don’t even flinch through “no trespassing” signs. Sitting under this bridge we wait for the stars to align, and take us on a ride down the tracks to where we gotta go, because Seattle feels so distant from home, I feel so far away, rightfully so, because for every mile we’ve traveled, we’ve got another mile to go. And I’m afraid that I’ll wait here for days if you cannot pull me away because I believe in paying your dues and I have yet to pay. Besides that cold sleepless night down in Utah, I have yet to pay, besides all that snow in Nevada, I have yet to pay, besides standing on the side of the highway for hours in the cold cold rain, I have yet to pay.

Folks in Temple Square just weren’t our crowd, they sure made me feel awkward, but it was a blast taking off all our clothes and running home in the rain. I was soaked to the bone and I had no dry shoes, but it didn’t matter. All that ever matters is the company we keep. If the world imploded that day, I didn’t even notice, because I was so caught up, just living in the moment. I saw your name all over town and I hope that it stays there, because it’s claiming something, as we try to stay posi while we’re drowning in this fucked up world, but we’re claiming so much more, and let’s hope we can stay true longer than it takes to buff graffiti in Salt Lake City. If I learned one thing from my short time on the road, it’s that I could go anywhere and find someplace not to feel so alone. When I say that I love you, you know that I mean it and that you could call me any day from halfway across the country and I’d find a way to be there with you, because that’s what friends are for. P.S. I’m sorry I fucked up your tattoo.

I’m not one for religion, and not much for superstition, but lately I’ve been wishing that the star in the sky was really you. I just can’t believe my mother, even though you know I love her, when we’re looking out above us, and she says that the star in the sky is really you. When the moon is full and the clouds have gone away, I can’t help but have in mind those lullabies you used to say. You said, “I see the moon and the moon sees me, and the moon sees somebody that I would like to see”. When Dad was on the road, mom and I would go for walks down the boulevard, she taught me stories she learned from you. I used to love going downtown and spending weekends at your house. You know that I’ll always hold dear all the times I had with you. I wonder now how it’d be. Would you still be proud of me? Could we sit down with photographs of my life since? On the day we’d meet again. I want so bad to believe my mother, because oh you know I love her and I wish that goodbye didn’t mean the end, and that oneday we’d meet again.

My mom, she had the foresight to preserve my life on a roll of film, I’m a kid forever on videocassette. Sometimes when I’m around, I like to watch those tapes to remind me of where I came from because sometimes I get caught up and I forget. It makes me a little sad to see that smiling little kid, I sure miss having him around. But I hold back all my tears until my mother leaves the room because I know that she still sees that little boy right now, and when the first rays of sun pass through my window in the morning, they’ll find an empty room. But please don’t worry, mom, because I will be home soon. Flipping through old albums, looking through my old drawers, makes me feel nostalgia for that time not long ago when I used to be fine just sitting in one place, but now I go from here to there looking for home. Sometimes it takes a lot to keep going, seems like despair is at my heels, but I wouldn’t trade experience for familiarity when there is so much left for us to feel. As the sun starts to set, I pause to watch the colors fade, but I’ll keep traveling by the light of the moon. Please don’t worry mom, because I will be home soon. I’ve spent uncountable days and innumerable nights in the company of people that I love, I’ve been hundreds of places and seen thousands of sights that most people only dream of, but no matter what I do, no matter who I’m with, no matter where I go, I still feel that that house in the suburbs is the closest thing I’ve got to a home, why, oh why is that house in the suburbs the closest thing I’ve got to a home? I don’t want to go back to the suburbs but I need to go home.

Everything looks so small from way up here on this rooftop. My heart drops to my stomach as the rocks fall to the water every moment i look off. All this pressure's aimed at bringing me down. But I'll come down at my own pace. Until gravity takes over at forty-five miles per hour and puts me right back in my place. Forty-five miles an hour to the rocks below. "If all of your friends jumped from a bridge, would you follow?" I know a lemming wouldn't fall to the sea without a shove. I just want to be sure that we can meet back here tomorrow. Because it's so much more exciting here than in the empty sky above. Forty-five miles an hour to the rocks below. Maybe a few kids would still be alive if they didn't make that movie. Maybe summer in this town would be a little less appealing if they didn't build New York City. Just like how they'd carve my name in a limestone brick if it wasn't for the decades of rain. I did it once to impress some Californians, but you can bet your bottom dollar I'm not taking that fall again.

Before Michael Jordan came to the scene, the Chicago Bulls were a losing-ass team. But then they one the 3-peat in '93 and Michael fought to the top with Charles Barkley and he played hella good D' and then he got his own shoe company. Even Jordan got cut from his highschool basketball team, don't give up. He believed he could fly and he did. From the free-throw line to the basket. He believed he could fly and he did, and he did. Now there's kids like me, checking every thrift store rack for a #23 jersey. Even Jordan got cut from his highschool basketball team, don't give up.