Archive for Love

I Shall Be Released

Posted in Dream, Life, Love, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 6, 2013 by Patrick Roe

I have a hard time believing that all of the events I’m about to describe happened in one night. I feel ten years older today.

It’s been a couple hours since waking now, so the dream is becoming fuzzier. The first thing I remember is driving near some railroad tracks at night. After passing a bridge, I saw a dark structure with a courtyard. In the dream I remember thinking that I needed money so I went down into the courtyard, and low and behold they had items of extreme value, the likes of which I can’t describe without sounding ridiculous. When I attempted to take some of these items, I just remember that the building lit up with alarms that broke the silence of the night, the red lights illuminated the courtyard, and in the words of Hunter S. Thompson, I knew I was fucked.

I remember being hauled off to the prison, in the back of the police car, feeling the weight of lost freedom. They booked me and threw me in a cell. It was a two person cell, but there was no other person. Just me, and my thoughts. And it stayed that way. I don’t remember going to meals, except just once. I don’t remember the exact blueprint of the prison, I just remember laying on my back. Realizing that I couldn’t talk to anybody when I wanted to, I couldn’t go outside when I wanted to, I couldn’t do anything except lay on my back and think. And that’s what I did, and it felt like weeks within the dream.

Then I got out, but it was only for my court date. I saw my mom for the first time. She was so happy to see me, and so sad about my situation, but for some reason I got the feeling that she understood why I had done what I did. I remember the car ride to the courthouse, I remember having a feeling that it wasn’t real and I’d have my freedom back quickly. However the dream was so real, I knew that wasn’t the case. I don’t even remember the day in court, I just remember that since they had caught me red handed there was no real need for a long trial. I was going to prison, plain and simple.

Then I went back to my cell, and there was somebody else there, but we didn’t talk. I remember going through the motions, figuring out the routine, and always spending time laying on my back staring up at nothing in particular. Thinking. Through the magic of the dream, I endured years of this. Until finally the day came, and I was free once again.

For those of you who have read my previous posts, you will know that my grandfather recently passed away and it’s had a gigantic impact on my life. Well last night he appeared in my dream, picking me up from prison. As we drove, I noticed the roads began to look more European. Past readers of mine will also remember that I have a girlfriend, who lives in France while I live in L.A. for now. Well last night, Papa drove me from prison to my house and there she was. I was so happy she was still there for me, so happy to have my freedom back, and through the roof excited about the life that lay in store for me.

I share this dream with you, reader, because it was beautiful and eye opening in a way that mere words could never convey. I’m still working out the symbolism and meaning, but for now one fact is clear: I feel like I’m in a prison, and Papa showed me there’s a way out.

The Heart Doctor

Posted in Love, Poetry, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing with tags , , , , , , , on June 24, 2013 by Patrick Roe

Me:

Doctor if you could help me

That would be great

I’m running late

Leaving soon to France

Look at the date!

I’m putting things in order

There’s things to mend

But my heart, it isn’t right

It’s hard to pretend

It’s riddled with holes

It feels like swiss cheese

I didn’t ask for love

But when it came I said, “More please!”

I keep right on taking

To fuel the addiction

I drink as prescribed

To fight the affliction

But there’s nothing to take

To dull the pain

No articles to read

No friends to explain

What happens to the heart

When you experience trauma?

It’s hard, it’s real

I’m not causing drama

I’m flat lining doc

Should I call my mama?

I can feel it now

The beats are spaced further

Please doc, run some tests

Is it a heart murmur?

The Doctor:

We’ve found the trouble

Let me show you the scans

You should have come sooner

Please sit, don’t stand

This is your heart

And this is your heart on love

See the discoloration

The inflammation above

Take a pill for the swelling

This one for the cravings

Inject this to numb

Snort this til’ you’re dumb

If it should stop

Use these for electric pop

We’ll keep your heart racing

But never tip top

You may stumble, don’t worry

We won’t let you drop

We’ll keep the ticker beating

Even after you’re dead

Using stilts and rigs

We’ll prop up your head

The trouble with the heart

It wants to feel

We can put a stop to that

It’s no big deal

You think you have problems

Soon it won’t feel real

Check out these charts

And our prices, they’re a steal!

Peace, Love, & Bulls#*!

Posted in Happiness, Life, Love, Thoughts with tags , , , , , , on June 12, 2013 by Patrick Roe

“Peace, love, and happiness” are three words that get slapped onto bumper stickers, tank tops, coffee mugs, and beautiful JPEG images of natural landscapes. People plop these three empty words on everything, hoping that they are sending some profound message to the people around them that they believe in these abstract, one-word ideals. That somehow by pledging their allegiance to “Peace, love, and happiness” it will magically come true, and the world will stand up and rejoice.

But do we even understand these words, really?

Let’s start with the first word: Peace. It’s often associated with utopian societies, monks meditating in a monastery, and a bunch of long haired hippies tripping on acid in San Francisco during the mid to late 60’s. The most absurd notion is one that the U.S. armed forces will always get behind, that “Peace is worth fighting for.” A quote I like to reference is “Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity.” What do we really want when we say we want peace? Inner peace? Peace on Earth? A time machine to the 60’s?

If we achieved a peace on Earth, would we even know it? Suppose we abolished war, weapons, and hatred in 99.8% of the world. Then one of those pesky .2%’ers goes and strangles their neighbor with a shoe lace and the only thing on international news for 3 straight days is how any one of your neighbors could be a crazed killer. Is there no longer peace on Earth? Did the shoe-lace-strangler ruin it for everybody? What about inner peace? Suppose you meditate for 43 years straight and achieve it, and monks everywhere hail you as the second coming of Buddha. Then you’re having a really bad day, and you throw you’re MacBook Air out of the monastery window. Because you had a sudden emotional, human reaction has your enlightenment been shattered? Do you have to be as tranquil as a lake on a breezeless day for the rest of your life? How boring is that?!

On to the next word, Love. It could be the most powerful word in the English language, but it’s not. People will say “They love their wife” and then follow it up with “I love Ramen noodles” in the same breath. All of us who can’t think of a better word, or can’t handle just “liking” something, have literally sucked all of the lifeblood out of the word “Love”. So when you see some Subaru with a “Peace, Love, Happiness” bumper sticker, which kind of love are they referring to? That they love vegan food, love Obama, love that new gluten free pasta? If they divorce their husband do they put a big Sharpie X through the word Love and just strive for Peace and Happiness instead?

And happiness, oh yes happiness. We can see how happy everyone is in line for Starbucks at 6am. Everyone spends their life on the “pursuit of happiness”, so then why do so many people look unhappy? I guess that $5 bumper sticker, $15 coffee mug, and $20 tank top didn’t cut it.

I could go on and on, but I’ll expedite that process by saying three things:

Peace is not a destination, it’s an infinite journey.

Love only has meaning if you give it meaning.

Happiness can only be found if you actively work towards it every day.

Papa

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Loss, Love, Thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 27, 2013 by Patrick Roe

Dear Papa,

Is that you in the back of my head? Are you still here? I keep looking for signs, maybe I’m looking too hard. It doesn’t seem real that you are gone. I’m writing this in hopes that it reaches you somehow, wherever you are now. I hope it’s an amazing place that delivers you from everything cold and hard in this world.

Your laugh fills my memories, and still brings me joy. I know the years of suffering made you more somber as of late, but you never lost that sense of humor. That beautiful sense of humor. But what I’ll miss most and what I really feel like I’m losing is your energy. So healing, soothing, peaceful, and serene. I don’t think I ever told you, but you had an amazing presence and it never failed to inspire me. I’m not sure if I decided to pursue art because of you, but you certainly made me want to stick to it. The last time I saw you, you told me if you could do it all over again you would have committed more time to art, so the way I see it I’m creating for both of us. I’m so happy that you lived long enough to see me pursuing a life of writing, I know it makes you proud.

MePapa1 MePapa2

MePapa3 MePapa4

Having you in my life so much as a child shaped me, and helped me to become the person that I am today. Thank you. I do wish you could have stayed just a little bit longer, but I guess we always feel that way about the ones we love. You suffered later in life, but I never lost hope that you would overcome the pain and finally get back to being that person I’ve known for most of my life. My spring break is coming up soon, I didn’t know what to do and I was really thinking about coming to see you. It’s selfish of me to think that you should have waited that long to see me again, but I still wish it could have been that way. I would have loved to see you one more time before you left. I would have loved to say goodbye.

We share a depth, and a darkness. I know I got this from you. I often think of you in my blackest hours, when I think nobody else would understand my mind there’s always that thought “Papa would understand.” I hope part of your spirit will stick around, and help to shepherd me through inevitable dark times to come. I can’t be sure, but something tells me you will.

There is a tattoo on my chest of a raven. I had no idea you were inches away from leaving us when I got it, and luckily you didn’t. You told my mom that if you were to ever die you would come back as an animal, and when my mom asked what kind of animal you said a raven. When I reminded you of that story and what it meant to me, you took the picture below. In my mind that raven is you, resurrected on my chest and above my heart forever. Right where you belong.

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Photo by Joe Polaschek

Forever Your Grandson and Greatest Admirer,

Patrick Joseph Roe

Sappy, Cliche, & Completely Honest

Posted in Inspiration, Love, Opinion, Passion, Thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 21, 2013 by Patrick Roe

Modern day love isn’t easy. It seems like it might be with all the forms of communication we are blessed with, but it’s just not the same. Nothing compares to looking in the eyes, the touch, and even all of those little things you take for granted. When that special person in your life isn’t near you, it’s the quirks you miss. The unique things that make them who they are, for better or worse.

What do you do when the one you love is far away?

As a person in that position all I can say is that you make it work, even when it tears you up. Because when you’ve found that person that you can’t picture yourself without, that person that makes you want to be a better person, you have no choice but to push through the pain and pray for strength.

Sure, I might be a hopeless romantic spouting off the most cliche garbage known to man. I only do it because too many people have given up, and I’m not one of them. I know love is too important to give up on.

This is me right now. It might not be pretty, and you might not even give a shit, but it’s real. I’m a man in love, and a man in pain. I’m doing everything I can to stay strong for someone that means the world to me. I have no idea why I’m face to face with this immense hardship. If it’s a test, I’ll pass it. A game, I’ll win it. If it’s fate pushing me to my limits, I won’t break.

It’s not easy, but the best things in life never come easy because they are worth fighting for.

The Laughing Heart

Posted in Inspiration, Poetry, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 18, 2013 by Patrick Roe

Bukowski. What words to describe you that have not already been used? You fill my cup. You help me drain it. You are dying proof that words are immortal. You’ve done more from your grave than a vast majority do in life, and in life you were the perfect blend of comedy, tragedy, and redemption.

I drink at one of your old haunts from time to time. Someday I hope my picture is below yours behind the bar. Maybe I’m a bastard for saying so.

Look at me, talking to a dead man through a computer screen. It might seem crazy at first, but sometimes there’s more life in words than flesh.

Sometimes.

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Everyone Is Fighting A Battle

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on February 17, 2013 by Patrick Roe

Life is hard, so get your kicks when it’s good. I don’t have kids yet, nor will I for some time, but when I do that is the first thing I will teach them. When they’re old enough, I’ll also teach them that the universe works in mysterious ways and that it has one twisted sense of humor. The sooner you start learning the same humor, the sooner life will start to make more sense. I’m down here in the trenches of civilized American life and sometimes it feels like all I see is pain.

I’ve had a lot on my mind this past week. The brother of one of my best friends was shot down in cold blood, his funeral was today (http://www.santacruzsentinel.com/localnews/ci_22577674/police-witnesses-hold-key-santa-cruz-shooting-investigation). I was not able to attend, although I wish with all my heart that I was able to. I didn’t know him as well as I know his family, but I know them all well enough to understand that they didn’t deserve this. Life gets easier when you die, but it gets harder for all the ones you leave behind. He was a father, and his daughter is too young to grow up with any memory of him. His wife was ready to divorce him, and now I’m sure she’d do most anything to bring him back. He’s in the ground for eternity as of this morning, and may God shepherd him to a peaceful existence in the ether.

My girlfriend lost her grandfather this week. I met her other grandpa during my short stay in France, and sadly I was not able to meet the one who just passed. I will never have that chance now, and this fact saddens me deeply. He also left behind a hell of a family, and a long time from now when I journey past the horizon I’ll make sure to thank him for it. He was one of her favorite family members, and there for her in times of extreme emotional hardship. He lived to see the amazing person she’s become, I just wish he would have lasted long enough to see her become the success she is destined to be. Things aren’t going as well as she would hope lately, and his passing is just one more brick in the oven of sorrow. Why any maker of mine would choose to separate me from her at a time like this I may never know. But I curse it, and send her my heart every day in hopes that it helps even a little.

Life is tough, and you got to be tough with it or else cower under it. It’s a heavy burden we’re born into as intelligent beings, made aware of so many things only to control so little.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” -Plato