Maybe the focus shouldn’t be
on Chaos anymore.
Maybe the focus
should be on something else,
or something new
like the first light of morning,
or when the sky starts to change,
and dawn begins to break;
the birds are chirping
and the world is sleepy
and quiet.

I love these moments
because the day is still young and innocent
or, perhaps maybe less-guilty,
depending upon the thoughts we hold
from the days before.

Now, here’s the reason, or perhaps I should say
this is another motivation
behind this journal.

The mind is the real trick.
This is how we lose to the different concepts
of thought; in which case, we can literally
think ourselves out of the best scenarios,
at least
I think so.
And the emotions we have,
well?
What about them?

Nothing comes the way they used to.
And this is not to say about the way things are
or how things have almost progressed
into some mindless way,
or how people seem to overlap or intersect,
yet, no one takes the time to notice
or to look up from their cell phone
and no one takes the time to look away from their technology,
at least not long enough to notice the signs
or to see which way the wind blows,
or how the sky looks.

I have a question,
which is plain and simple, really.
It is direct as direct can be
and although the answers might not
be as obvious
or as easy,
the question is really simple.

How does this work?
I think that this is a fair question.
Don’t you?
I think this question is fair to ask
and yes, I think this is a question
that can take off in different directions.

I never had the chance to be young. 
You know?
What I mean is,
I missed out on things that are important
or part of youth because somehow,
I was tricked
or robbed in a way
that I believed in the inaccuracies
and the varying concepts
of love,
or the lack thereof.

I never had a prom or the basic rites of passage,
and to some, I hear that I am making a big deal
out of nothing
but to them, this is nothing.
To me, this is something.

 Ah the process of you,
Overthinking,
and the wonders you work.
I have heard it said that the mind
is a terrible thing to waste,
to which I say, yes,
I agree.
It’s true.

Ah the self-inflicted drama
or the self-induced problems,
which you’ve sworn off a hundred times, and still,
you find yourself encountering the same things
for the same reasons and, of course,
someone always comes along
to remind you about the definition
of insanity which is doing the same thing
but expecting different results.

Or something like that . . .

Do you want to know this part?

Okay, fine.

There is a sound that never goes away
or noises that you never forget,
like say the sound of handcuffs
as they clasp around your wrist
or the sound of a cell door as it rolls shut.

Trust me.
And trust that as crazy as this sounds,
and it does sound crazy,
there are people
who are destined for this
and yet, they act surprised
when their hands are behind their backs
and the door to the squad car closes
and next, it’s mugshot time.

If you know, then you’ll know. And if you really know,
then none of this will come as a shock or a surprise to you.
But if you don’t know or if you won’t know
then maybe you can’t know.
Maybe this is impossible for you to grab the concept
of a life like this
But maybe I can help.

Allow yourself to go there, and follow along.
Try . . .
use this as an exercise and allow your mind
to slide into a vision with me.

Talk about chaos . . .
there is none like the ones you see
when swirling lights
flash around
or sirens come
or you see someone you love
as they’re lifted into an ambulance
and taken away.

Anger . . .
What better way to express chaos
or what better way to self-destruct
or to explode or implode
or to be more defined;
what better way is there to lose control
by trying to control
the uncontrollable?

I admit this might be a bit much,
but, to be clear
the title of this journal
is called The Book of Chaos
and so . .
in fairness to the topic, yes
I think that both love and lust
and the interchangeableness
of the two
can be enough to drive anyone crazy.

And, so . . .

More than anything else in this world,
I just want to be good.
I want to “be” someone, you know?
I want to mean something
to someone and more than this,
I want to be beautiful.

I want to be pure
like a child when they see something new
or when a child plays or laughs or smiles,
innocently,
as if to have never been burned
by the edges of real life; or better,
I want to be pure in the sense
that I am me and as raw as I am
to the sight or to the touch,
or as imperfect as I may be,
I want to be beautiful
as if to be forever unmarred
or never marked and unmolested,
or removed from the version of sin or stigma
or judgment and so on.

I was thinking about the lyrics from a song,
which say so much
when it comes to matters of the heart
or love, or about the way we mess up
or ruin love
or ruin the best things we have.

I stand here, guilty as changed
and convicted, equally and dually noted
and sentenced.

 Sometimes . . . .
I suppose it should be enough
to just sit still, you know

As in to sit quietly and just
listen to the emptiness of nothing
or to be someplace, like,
say by the side of a lake somewhere
which is a real place to me
off Seven Lakes Drive,
which is up by Sloatsburg, New York.

As it is, the world is a crazy place.
Therefore, as it is,
we all need to find a place,
or a refuge of some sort,
or way, a means to an end,
or to find some kind of balance,
in an unbalanced world,
which is why I am here.

This is my art.
And this is my inspiration.
This is all that I have and
I can say that I have given far too much of myself
but at the same time,
what is art without pain
or a little blood from the heart,
or what is music
without blues for the soul?

What is chaos anyway?
Let’s start this off with a basic definition –
Chaos, what is it?
Well, the dictionary says
it’s a state of confusion or wild disorder.
At least, this is what the dictionary tells me.

I think this goes further though,
and yes, I think that a state of confusion
or wild disorder is close enough. But no,
I think there’s more to it.

It goes this way. Life, I mean.
And there are times which come without reason
or without any sort of explanation.
And there are times when we freak
out or lose our cool
or in my case,
I lose my head, and yes,
we do things
that are against our best interest.

And we know this is wrong.
We know it as we follow through
just wishing we could stop ourselves.

But, we hit the trip wire and then boom
love goes up in a burst of flames
and the battlefield is drenched
with innocent bystanders,
or otherwise known as
the person you love the most.

The question to you, Mr. Chaos is simple.
The question becomes what have you done for me?
What have I lost on your behalf
and where has this led me?

Are you ready for a little bit of honesty . . .
I am as imperfect as anyone else in this world.
I’m crazy too,
or mad as any madman.
Or worse,
I am equally as desperate and afraid that yes,
somehow, I missed my ride, and now,
I’ll miss the show
or I’ll miss my chance
to see the world
like I’ve always wished to see it.

And so, what was
became what is and quickly too,
and more, this happened faster than I knew it.
Just like that, in the blink of an eye,
a temporary burden became fact
and permanent because of an unfortunate
force, which I call
the deception of my perception.

But this is where he lives.
Mr. Chaos, that is.

This is for the kid who is misguided somehow
or tricked, just like I was
or fooled into thinking
that something about them is faulty or wrong
or mis-wired
or otherwise imperfect.

But the fact is no.
You couldn’t be imperfect if you tried.
Believe me.

Good morning, my old friend Chaos.
It’s me again,
trying hard to find my way
and trying harder to defy the ideas
which have consumed me for way too long.

I find myself on the verge of another impasse
or crossroads, or perhaps I am on the verge
of another choice, or change
or decision. And again,
I go back and forth and walk down the same streets,
which have recently changed, yet
everything is still the same.

1)

It’s time to go back,
or if anything,
now is the time to get back to it,
and by “it”,
I mean the source of my thrill
or the meaning behind my life.

What is this?
What is this thing
in me?

What are these ideas
which spin around in our mind,
and how is it that they mutate or multiply,
at least a thousand times or more
and then they drive us mad
or crazy or,
they send us off
or drive us away in different directions?

And meanwhile, all we want is peace.

I need to stop.
I need to figure this out, somehow,
or try to find a way
to level the playing field,
or if not,
perhaps I can find a way to
reverse the polarity
or make a shift
so the weight is less,
and my leverage is better
or, at minimum,
the pain can be less
consequential.

And if it were true
or if it was so,
or if the facts were that yes,
my insecurities were all real
and that yes, my body was as I saw it
or, that in my assumptions that, at best,
all I could be was awkward,
then yes,
naturally,
I would assume that everyone saw me
the same as I saw myself –
inaccurately.

Ah, Mr. Mathias.
I knew you well
and so did our old friend Mr. Chaos,
I believe.

You taught me well and
you taught me that I knew more
than I thought.

Sometimes, music is the only thing that helps.
You know?
Chaos comes in like both,
an expected unwanted guest,
and just like old times,
the heartbeat picks up
like pig meat before the slaughter
and the mind moves too fast
for me to find peace.

But the music helps.

Yes, I’m aware that the book
is never the same as the movie,
or that life does not come
with the so-called “CliffsNotes”
or an abbreviated version
to ease the study of one another, but yes,
I get it.

No one takes the time
to read between the lines anymore
nor would it seem
that anyone looks to dedicate
the time it takes to really know someone,
or something,
or to dig deeper than just the surface level. 

There are nights when all is quiet
and the moon comes through the blinds
to leave a beam of moonlight
with a bluish tint across the sheets on my bed
or the whiteness on my face.
The blanket is off of me, and then on,
and then off again.

I am up, of course, and awake as usual.
I am thinking of random things
which somehow multiplies
into other thoughts
that take on a direction of their own.

Crazy?

Sure, I’m crazy.
Then again, what does it mean to be crazy?
Am I crazy because I still want to believe?
Is it crazy to want more?
Am I doing the same things over and over again,
and expecting a different result?

But wait . . .
that’s not crazy.
That’s the definition of insanity
which, yes, if I’m being honest,
of course, I’m insane too.

1)

I want to leave it all out there.
Do you know what I mean?
I don’t want to ever hold back again,
or be common or commonplace enough
to be side-swiped by some mediocre life
or to live in some basic or mundane existence
where I find myself aimless or aimlessly walking around,
like say, somewhere in Midtown,
caught in the undertow of some unfulfilled
or everyday world.

You look and you try.
You wonder and you dream, and you imagine,
and then perhaps you barter and you trade,
you negotiate and often you compromise
to find that “thing” which I have been telling you about.

And you want this.
You really do,
You want to find this in whichever form
or in whatever way this appeals to you; and as you go,
you take notice of “what was,”
to prevent what happened
from happening again.

It is even more confusing to say
that tomorrow is not a given,
especially when we have so much
depended on tomorrow, like a bet at the window
as if to bet on the 7 horse to win,
place or show.

Maybe tomorrow is not a given.
Maybe there really isn’t anything else
but right now . . .
and now has become the determining factor
of whether you or I will take that next step
or make that turn
or change our minds
and figure out a plan
for the rest of our lives
(so we can be happy).

I find that I am in a constant state of competition
with myself, which is not to say
that this is a race or that there is a first place,
second, third or last.
No.
This is more than just a physical match,
but mental as well, and emotional
and even educational to some degree because
as I go along, I find that I have been given
a series of inaccurate ideas
as well as lived in accordance
to a plethora of misinformation.

I was listening to a soldier
talk about an operation of violence.
And yes, this was violent to the core.
At the same time;
this is war and hence violence
is nothing more than a necessary evil
. . . just to survive.

I heard the soldier talk about the action,
the reason,
and victory of rage
which he also admitted to a celebration
of events
that the people in our society
are not ready for
nor are they tolerant of; however,
this is what it takes
to win a war.

Today . . .
I ask this question out loud yet,
I only ask this question to myself;
however, you are free to ask yourself
this same questions
and if you’d like,
we can try and answer them
together.

Dear Chaos,

I know you well and for so long now,
that perhaps it would be safe to say
that you and I
have been on a first name basis
even before I understood what that means,
to be on a first name basis.

I am the one and always will be,
the one who loves,
the one who wants forever,
to start right now
and the one who feels, sees
and seeks our moment of truth.

And love . . .
. . . Yes, love,
I believe in you still
now, then, and always
as in forever, or as in for life
or longer.

I believe in you
and the highs or the lows,
or the ins and the outs
the ups and the downs,
or the back and forth
or the “for better
or worse.”
until death do us part.

I am not who I was
then again,
none of us are
who we were,
I mean.

It’s hard to think about it . . .
. . . what’s it been now,
33 years?