quiet now

ssh...
quiet now
shut off your troubled mind
silence all the voices
that claim you as their own
you know how
to leave them far behind
they are not good choices
when your heart needs a home
try now
close your eyes
let your imagination
take you by surprise

quiet now
give yourself a break
there is not one problem
that worrying will help
don't allow
memories of mistakes
tomorrow you will solve them
with the strength inside yourself
try now
take a breath
sometimes life can scare you
half to death
when this world puts you
to the test
all you can do
is do your best
it's time for you to rest

quiet now
erase all of your words
there's nothing they can say
that you absolutely need
set them down
all those action nouns and verbs
throw them all away
breathe
try now
it'll be all right
lay your burdens down
turn out the light
quiet now
quiet now
good night

different colors

she speaks in different colors than you're used to
shades of blue and silver
sparkling in the shadow of the moon
and you can take her hand if you choose to
you can rehearse and deliver
a love song just slightly out of tune
stand below her window
softly call her name
feel your hopes dwindle
falling like the rain

This is what I do

I went to see my psychologist a couple hours ago.

How was it, farmboy? I bet you had a lot to talk about. Are you finding it productive?

Actually, yeah. Yeah. I'm finding it real productive, man. He gives me a lot to think about. Right now we're talking about all the defenses I've developed over the years to avoid getting close to people. And how I need to confront them instead of just obeying. Which, by the way, is my word.

Obeying?

That's the one. That's what I do, and this ain't my psychologist talking here, this is me. This is what I do: My mental illness says "jump" and I fuckin' obey.

You know, when I had that mental breakdown thingy earlier in my life, that was because I didn't obey. I fought back. And I've been fighting ever since. That sounds way melodramatic, but it's actually true. Every fuckin' day I fight against this mental illness.

So what my psychologist says is that I should confront this...thing and say or think something like "You don't need to do that anymore."

Man, I got gotta tell you, this is all sounding real.lame, the way I'm telling it. I'm leaving out all this specific stuff. I don't know if I should call this voice inside me mental illness, either. I'm oversimplifying everything.

And that's okay, farmboy. You just got back from seeing your psychologist. As you said, he gives you a lot to think about. You're probably still internalizing everything you two talked about.

Internalizing? What the fuck does that mean?

You're still digesting everything. Intellectually speaking.

That's true, man. I'm trying to figure out what it all means. But, you know, I wanted to tell you for my sake. I guess I kinda wanted a witness so I wouldn't forget all that went down with my psychologist this morning.

Quick, farmboy. Tell me about what he said in one sentence. One...two...three...go!

Okay. What my psychologist said to me was that the inside voice I hear warning me and telling me things -- what I referred to earlier as mental illness -- is a defense to keep me from getting close to people.

Fuck, that's a long sentence. But it's the best I can do right now.

so tired

I'm so tired of feeling hopeless
like I have to surrender
if I'm under attack
that's not
how I have to live

My mental illness is raging today

Today is not a good day so far. My mental illness is raging today, I tell you. It's just taking over like one of those weeds in the garden that strangled the life out of other plants.

I'm sorry to hear that, farmboy. I really am. I'm not just saying that. Do you have any idea of what you're going to do about it?

Friday is my appointment with the psychologist. I'm looking forward to that. I'm just sad all the fuckin' time, man. I feel like I'm grieving all the fuckin' time.

Grieving about what, farmboy?

Well, lately it's been that there was this occupational therapist that really helped me out when I needed help. And it's like...You know, I spend a whole lot of energy keeping people away. I do my best not to get close to people. And so this guy helped me and somehow broke through and now I'm not in rehab anymore. It's like I'm a kid saying "Don't take my friend away. I never get to have a close friend and I don't think I can take this."

No wonder you're sad, farmboy.

So I'm, like, how much grieving do I have to do? Can I move on to the next phase now?

Fuck, man, yesterday I did pretty well. Now today I'm isolated with nothing but time to think and think and think. I feel like whining "I wanna go home." Problem is, I am home.

you can fight back

it's finally happened
like it did before
the old disease
has come back for more
and it doesn't play fair
and it doesn't play nice
it hides and waits
for your sacrifice 
once you were its victim
you were under attack
but now you know 
you can fight back

How I spent spring break 11: Trauma

Here's another word: trauma.

Trauma was the word I would hear from medical professionals. I heard it from the psychologist who combined it with a phrase similar to "and some PTSD." I heard it from the male nurse who explained to me that trauma was the reason why my penis shrunk and tried to hide away. 

Trauma, man. Fuckin' trauma.

From what I gather from the internet, trauma is what occurs when something really bad happens to you. Psychological trauma is the damage to the psyche as the result of a severely distressing event. Major trauma is injury or damage to a biological organism caused by physical harm from an external source.

Anyway, that's what I've had and. I guess, still have. Trauma. I'm trying to understand this whole series of experiences from the past -- what is it now? Six months? -- and what good can come out of it.

And good will come out of it. I'm making sure of that. 

How I spent spring break 10: Stranger in a strange land

I'm trying to find new words for the experience I went through. It can be tough. I could call the whole mess The Accident, but it seems a touch melodramatic. As in: I loved doing ________, but I ain't worth a damn thing since The Accident.

I do have some words, though. Surreal is number one. It's so strange how life can change in just a few seconds. You're suddenly thrust into this whole other world where the people you know -- friends, family, and coworkers -- are cameo appearances. You're with all these other people. You're dependent on those other people. It's all different. It's like a dream world.

Word number two: Confusing. As I just told you, it's all like a dream. And what that means is sometimes you don't know what to do; in fact, sometimes you don't even know what's really happening. A lot of control has been taken away from you. You're a stranger in a strange land. And you don't know where the fuck you are.

And now for word number three: Challenging. Everything is difficult and seems impossible until you figure out ways to do stuff. And you will figure out ways. After a while it can even seem like a little game. Be proud of yourself: You're going to be learning a lot of new skills. You're going to be working that noggin of yours.

There's more words yet to come. I'll keep you posted as the news progresses.

volcano

I am a volcano 
I am not manmade
I'm a natural disaster
and you should be afraid
someday I'm gonna say
enough is enough
and I'm gonna erupt, boys
I am gonna erupt

there's a lot about me
that you don't see
what you got here's
a million years
of hard geology
there's a lot about me
that you don't know
and someday my top's gonna blow, Joe
you better look out below

          everything about me
          that you've  read is true
          but you still don't know
          the damage I can do

there are many like me
don't think that you're through with us
look at Etna and Fugi
And don't forget Vesuvius
one day you could look up
and I'll be overhead
and all y'all gonna be dead, folks
holy smokes!
you're gonna be dead

I am a volcano
and this is what I see
all you folks on planet earth
are an awful lot like me
anger's the same as lava
and when you hit the mother lode
one day you're going explode, boys
one day you're gonna explode

I am a volcano
I am a volcano
I am a volcano
you don't know the damage you can do

It wasn't like a movie

So today I saw my psychologist. It was a good session. I pretty much got right to the point and from there we went into childhood and, yeah, I'm satisfied with what we did. It wasn't, like, dramatic or anything. It wasn't like a movie. It was just going to where it was going.

Are you going to continue going to see your psychologist, farmboy?

Yeah, yeah, I'm determined to finish this out. And I don't even know what this is. But, you know, this accident happened for a reason. I'm the one making that decision, man. I say it happened for a fuckin' reason.

Hopefully you're not the only one, farmboy. If I can say that.

No, no, you can say whatever you want. I mean, I appreciate you listening to me go on and on and on about the accident and all my little petty problems.

I hope I'm not the only one, either, man.

lost

I knock on wood
and pray to Jesus
and keep my fingers crossed
I tell fate to look away
and say you're not the boss
I'm determined to be
who I want to be
no matter what the cost
I am lost
I am lost

I know my ride is coming
and I hope it's not too late
my thumb's held high
I've got a cardboard sign
and I'm on the interstate
but it seems I'm unlucky
no matter how the coin gets tossed
I am lost
I am lost

sugar over here 2

groceries in the cupboard
gas tank filled with gas
paycheck in my pocket
and the weekend's going fast
whiskey in my coffee
that good gorilla weed
banjos on the bandstand
just one more thing I need
          
          and that's you, darlin'
          let me whisper in your ear
          yeah, that's you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here

sultry summer evening
sitting on the porch
singing with my baby
and my guitar, of course
look at that far horizon
midnight's coming soon
I need you harmonizing
by the the light of the silvery moon
          
          yeah, I need you, darlin'
          loving you should be my career
          I need you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here

beggars can't be choosers
and I'm begging you
girl, I'm not a loser
nobody else will do
give me a mask of moonlight
I'll go down on one knee
I've only got one question
and I'm hoping you agree
          
          'cause it's you, darlin'
          I will be your volunteer
          yeah, it's you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here
          for you, darlin'
          I will even shave my beard
          yeah, it's you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here

running in place

it's like that treadmill
you run five mornings a week
that you dread 
every single fuckin' day
you work and sweat
and place your bets
but nothing 
ever happens anyway
you ain't going nowhere
and you can't pick up the pace
you ain't going nowhere
you're just running in place

How I spent spring break 9: The giant shoehorn

Today I left my apartment, jaywalked across the street, and got on a city bus. First I went to the head shop -- is that what they're called? -- and bought a pipe, pipe cleaners and screens. Then I crossed the street and went to Walgreens to pick up some prescriptions. Then I got on the bus and came home. I hobbled up a couple of stairs and entered my apartment by pushing my left foot up and pulling myself using a window sill.

All of that was impossible five months ago. Thanks to wonderful and caring physical and occupational therapists, an amazing surgeon, and nurses and CNAs and other hospital staff I can be independent. And I can buy pipes and pipe cleaners and screens.

Today is a good day.

Of course, my recovery is far from over. I don't know the fate of my job or, really, the future. Plus, well...I didn't mention it, but I did all that bus stuff using a walker. Which is just fine for right now. I love my walker.

And I love my cane, and my shower bench, and my grabber, and even the giant shoehorn. I love all those new skills that help me to do things for myself. 

So today I did a new thing, or at least I did something I couldn't do for awhile. I'm doing stuff like that damn near every day. It's gotten to the point where I almost don't notice. Almost.

Believe me, I'm not congratulating myself. I just feel so grateful. It's kinda corny, I know, but that's okay.

Now let's see what the rest of the week will bring. And the month, and the year. And everything after that.

my poor subconscious

my poor subconscious
it never gets a moment's rest
I keep poking at it
I keep stating my request
but it just stays quiet
no matter what I ask
my poor subconscious
isn't up to the task

my poor subconscious
it's driving me insane
it's got a truckload full of secrets
and they know my family name
they drag me through the gutter
but there's nothing there to see
my poor subconscious
thinks it's protecting me

How I spent spring break 8: Places that are not my home

This has not been fun.

Okay, now that I've got that out of the way. Let me tell you what I'll remember after everything that's happened these past few months.

Kindness. Human kindness. 

I'm kind of amazed by this. For three months I live in these places that are not my home. I should be scared to death. I was scared to death. But these people -- who were roughly 99% of the people I met -- they got me through a lot with their kindness and humor and respect for my dignity. 

So in the long run, that overshadows the nightmare of that first day. It's that simple. And I am thankful.

still ain't saying nothing

there's nothing to say
but you're still speaking
your gums are flapping
your voice keeps creaking
your mouth is moving
like it's moved a million times before
there's nothing to do
but you keep on doing
like the road ahead
is the road to ruin
those words you say
they all keep intruding
but you just keep talking more

          but you still ain't saying nothing
          you still ain't saying nothing
          it's a bunch of sound
          when we need silence
          but you still ain't saying nothing
          you still ain't saying nothing
          it's a bunch of sound
          but you ain't making any sense

bad ideas

my head is filled with bad ideas
and they're all involving you 
now I don't and now I see you
walking down the avenue

My brain neuron stuff

So I went to the counselor this morning.

Excellent, farmboy. How was it? Did it feel good to talk to someone?

It did. I like my counselor. He's a good guy. I seemed kind of scattered, though. I thought I had prepared enough, but, well, my brain neuron stuff started going a little haywire. Confused, which seems to be another descriptive word for my life these past few months.

It sounds like you have a list.

I should have a fuckin' list, man. It would have words on it like "surreal" and "confusing" and more that I haven't encountered yet. I'll have to do some thinking on this.

So, anyway, I made an appointment to go see my counselor next week. You know, I don't know if he's a counselor or a therapist or what. I know he's a psychologist.

So just call him your psychologist.

Okay, so I made an appointment to go see my psychologist next week. Maybe I can clarify some things for myself before I go. I don't know.

I guess you'll find out, farmboy.

I guess I will, man.

sugar over here

groceries in the cupboard
gas tank filled with gas
money in my pocket
and my weekend going fast
whiskey in my coffee
that good gorilla weed
banjos on the bandstand
just one more thing I need
          
          and that's you, darlin'
          let me whisper in your ear
          yeah, that's you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here

sultry summer evening
sitting on the porch
singing with my baby
and my guitar, of course
look at that far horizon
baby, come here soon
I need you harmonizing
by the the light of the silvery moon
          
          yeah, I need you, darlin'
          loving you should be my career
          I need you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here

beggars can't be choosers
and I'm begging you
girl, I'm lot a loser
and I'm choosing you
give me a mask of moonlight
I'll go down on one knee
I've only got one question
and I'm hoping you agree
          
          'cause it's you, darlin'
          I will be your volunteer
          yeah, it's you, darlin'
          bring some sugar over here

How I spent spring break 7: Not an impossible dream

I'm gonna see my counselor in a couple days, man. Friday, to be exact. 10 a.m. I'm getting a ride from this place my physical therapist turned me on to called Ride Connections. There are a lot of good people out there, man, all these volunteers and medical professionals and, well, just the staffs in general. But I digress.

I don't think of you as someone who would say things like "but I digress," farmboy.

You know, I wasn't even conscious that I was saying it when it came out. It is pretty fuckin' stupid, ain't it?

But, anyway, I'm gonna go see my counselor on Friday morning. I'm looking really forward to it. I've needed to talk to him about this whole accident and recovery thing for a while now.

Have you thought about what you're going to discuss with him?

Yeah. I'm gonna tell him about how there better be a reason for all that's happened. I can give it a reason. It's about me gaining possession of my own life, my own future. 

I was thinking about this thing I heard on the radio about this elderly woman who was trapped on a floating mattress during hurricane Katrina. All the time she was floating she thought about how she was going to furnish and design her living room after the flood was over. I think it was on This American Life.

That sounds like something that would be on that show.

So that's kind of been my situation in a way. The whole time I'm in rehab I'm fuckin' planning my future. And that can't be in vain. My life is not an impossible dream. The worst fuckin' thing that could happen would be for me to go back to the same old fuckin' life I had before the accident.

I totally agree, farmboy.

I want him to help me. I want you to help me too. I need you guys to witness. There are times when I'm gonna lose hope, and I'm gonna need you two to remember who I really am when I can't remember myself.

How I spent spring break 6: There's a way

I'm sure this whole experience is filled with lessons, most of which I haven't learned yet. I'm thinking that these lessons will let themselves be known as the opportunities arrive.

But for now, here's a little lesson, courtesy of having to figure out how to do things when your body refuses to work the way you want: Almost all problems have a solution.

I'm being absolutely serious here. I know it sounds like positive thinking bullshit, but it's true. See the remote control you dropped? There's a way to get it. You just have to fuckin' think, man.

You probably know all this stuff, dear reader. I mean, you're pretty smart. You're welcome to skip ahead if you like.

Me, I'm slow at learning. Pisses me off.

How I spent spring break 5: Lessons learned

There's all these little observations and conclusions that I've been getting since I've been out of rehab. Finally, some lessons learned.

The main one -- the thesis sentence of this whole period -- is the feeling that you're in some weird alternative universe. For the time away is a learning process: learning new rules, new people, even a new vocabulary in a way 

I realized that when I look back I'm going to remember the people and their kindness. I have been the recipient of amazing generosity. The flip side of this is that I'm way too isolated in my usual life; for three months I wasn't. And I'm having a hard time adjusting to the outside world of my life at home.

The first card I was given after the accident basically said "Please allow me to strangle the first person who says that everything happens for a reason." I love that, but for me the feeling is this whole experience better be for a reason. If there's no reason, I'll give it one. It's like a thought I had those first few days in the hospital: How am I going to turn this negative into a positive?

Food is a good thing

I'm doing new things everyday, man. I went grocery shopping earlier this week. I've gone outside by myself. I've taken a couple walks with physical therapists. I've gotten in and out of vehicles by myself. Today I ate supper at a restaurant with my brother and his family, plus his wife's mother. She just moved here. Got in last night, actually.

Going out to eat is always good. Where did you go, farmboy?

Chinese food. Southern China, if that means anything to you. It was very good. This wasn't, like, an orange chicken type of place. I had these fresh noodles that are, like, two feet long. They give you scissors to cut them at the restaurant.

Sounds pretty great, farmboy. 

It was. The chicken was really tender and the mushrooms were amazing. Food is a good thing.

Food is a really good thing.

Food is fuckin' fantastic, man. And now I can leave my apartment occasionally to go grab some.

waiting for the future

I take comfort in the fact
that most of my thoughts don't matter
most of my thoughts don't matter
so I can think anything I want
I can spring to attack
any unintended chatter
you'd think I would be sadder
and not so nonchalant

          Wee-hee-hee 
          look at me
          living in a brand new century
          there's a world for me to see
          but I'm growing old
          Wee-hee-hee
          there I am
          in the middle of a traffic jam
          saying I don't give a damn
          what you've been told
          I'm just waiting for the future to unfold

nothing to wake up for

the full moon is shining
it's a quarter to three
everybody's asleep
so more coffee for me
I go to bed late
'cause I don't want to face
the day before me
it's so easy to stay up
when there's nothing to wake up for
in the morning

you and me and the baby

I'll wait by your window
give me a sign
I'm willing to gamble
and I'm thinking it's time
to leave this 
tractor town behind
you and me and the baby

ain't nothing here
for us to claim
except boredom and looking
for someone to blame
we can all share
the same family name
you and me and the baby

How I spent spring break 4: an explanation

So, farmboy, what is this article that you're writing?

Well, you know, I'm calling it an article because it feels that way at times. And there is a real possibility that I may take things and rewrite and edit and make it into an article. But, really, I  just thought I should write things down. If for no other reason than to get it out of my head for once and for all, hopefully. 'Cause I'll walk around all day and night writing it in my head. That's what my inner narrator is a lot of the time. And I'm not sure what to think of that.

Plus it's good for me to write like I'm a writer or something, you know? I hope it is anyway. I don't want to be an imitation of a writer; I want to find my own way of writing.

Like your songwriting?

Yeah, 'cept I'm much further ahead as a songwriter because I've been doing it for so long. It's kind of like my way of relating to the world, my way of processing things. Maybe it's putting them in an orderly fashion with rhyme and rhythm and melody. Maybe I just fuckin' lucked out, you know? Working in music is a privilege. 

Do you think you'll continue writing HISSB?

Hey, I like the fancy initials, man. 

But to answer your question: For the moment, yeah, I think I'll continue writing it. I don't know where it's going or if it's going anywhere. But it's going and it's obviously on my mind. So, yeah, I'm gonna keep writing it, at least for a little while.

Thanks for asking.

How I spent spring break 3: Ceiling tiles

I had my eyes closed more often than not that first week, or at least that's how it seems. I would go through anything I had to go through, but that didn't mean I had to watch it.

I spent the first five days in the hospital. Nobody could figure out what had happened to me for two days, then a wonderful physical therapist saw me and had the notion that my quadriceps were what was (or was not) happening. Two MRIs later, the surgeon came to my room and told me that the surgery was scheduled for early the next morning.

On the way to surgery, I watched the tiles on the ceilings while I was being wheeled in. I thought that I might need that for a song someday.

I was put under. Surgery was performed. I woke up and was wheeled back to my room. I don't need to know the details. At times, denial can be your best friend. I don't remember if I looked at the ceiling tiles or not.

I don't remember what songs went through my mind or what I had for lunch. I remember having chips of ice and really enjoying them. I remember that the Grammy awards were on TV that night and being impressed with Kendrick Lamar and the opening number from Hamilton.

I remember that it wasn't like the first night, when my mind unconsciously replayed the moment of the fuckin' accident over and over.

The surgery was over. Now it was time for the recovery to begin, like it or not.

gonna get better

you have to believe
things are gonna get better
'cause if you don't believe
things will only get worse
life will improve
if you only let it
it's your choice, darlin'
blessing or curse

I hungered to play the piano

It's the fourth of July and I'm listening to this great program on the radio about Eubie Blake. This music is fuckin' amazing, man! I love that piano. Man, I coulda been one hell of a pianist if I had had access to a piano when I was a kid. I hungered to play the piano.

But you eventually learned, right, farmboy?

I did, when I was fourteen. I put guitar chords to the piano.

I remember the day we got the piano. My father and my uncles moved this piano, this old big black upright, and before it even got inside I was playing it. I remember just walking up to the piano and sitting down and playing it without a word. It was like it was meant to be, like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like having a dream come true. It was fuckin' awesome, man.

Sounds pretty wonderful, farmboy.

It was...I have no words. I just thank God it happened. Fuckin' changed my life, man.

Isolation, man, it's a fuckin' killer

So I've been so lonely, so fuckin' isolated. So I decided that since I'm housesitting I might as well have some friends over and have, like, a kind of get-together. And that's just what finished up. It's too bad you couldn't make it, man.

I know! Thanks for the invitation, though. Hopefully next time. How did it go, farmboy?

It went fine, despite me worrying about everything. It was, like, a make-your-own burrito night. Chips and salsa and beans and chicken and beef and tortillas.

Sounds good.

Thanks. It was pretty good and it was great seeing people. Isolation, man, it's a fuckin' killer. And when you can't leave the house and you're all by yourself...well, it's just fucked.

But you did something about it, farmboy.

Yeah, I did. And I'm pretty proud of myself.

You are? That's great!

Okay, maybe not that proud.

Farmboy, you need to learn how to give yourself a little credit. You're always doing this. Something good happens and you just take it away.

Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. It's just what I do.

You know, I played a song today and my friends said wonderful things. And I just went passed all that stuff until this one friend, Matt, said something like "Did you hear all the praise about your song? I just want to make sure you heard all that stuff."

Perfect. Matt sounds like a good guy.

Oh, he is, he's the best. And it was totally true. I just cruised right over all the positive feedback like it never happened. He wanted me to actually hear it.

And so I did.

Good.

Yeah, it is good. It's just a little hard when you're not used to doing it, you know? But I can learn. I really can.

How I spent spring break 2: A full recovery

My experiences these past few months are best described by the word surreal. It's like some weird type of time machine -- one second you're here, next second you're there, in this alternate life you didn't know you had. The people in your everyday life are now demoted to cameos where they once were stars. Suddenly you're surrounded by all these new people and what's more, you're dependent on them.

Once I get past the horrors and the miracles of the first week after the accident, I'm amazed how upbeat I was for the first month and a half. In some ways it was miserable in rehab, this being in braces and not sleeping stuff, but I was being taken care of by amazing people and musician friends were coming by with instruments and playing and visiting. It was like having my own venue. I have astoundingly talented friends. I didn't have to do laundry or clean or, thank God, cook. I didn't have to go to The Fuckin' Job (more about that later). 

I realize now that I felt like I couldn't afford to be miserable. This was very serious stuff I had happening. I had torn both quadriceps from the muscle area above the knees. The surgery was successful and the surgeon said I would have a full recovery.

A full recovery. Those, my friends, are like magic words. No matter what, I was going to heal. It was just going to take some work.

How I spent spring break: an article

Let's get this part out of the way: I was on the most crowded bus I've ever seen, with passengers in the aisles, in the exits. It was rush hour. I usually take the front exit when I get off the bus, but I couldn't get to it with all the people getting on. So I took the back exit, which was higher than the front exit and the sidewalk.

And I fell. Hard. On my knees. On cement and gravel.

The ambulance was called. A very kind and calm young woman talked to me, as I lay on the gravel in the rain and my legs unable to move.

I went to the hospital emergency room, where I was one of many, many people needing help. I was admitted into a room eventually, where I was given pain pills that made me feel like I was riding on a ferris wheel. It was fun, in a way.

And with that everything changed on Thursday, February 11. I would not see my apartment for four months.

how not to be lonely

maybe I don't know
how not to be lonely 
maybe it's the only
way that I know