the last will and testament of sgt. pepper

 

   If you are reading this it can only mean one thing...

   Sgt. Pepper is Sgt. Pepper no more.

   As part of my final adieu I have included some thank you's, some requests, some things you should know about me, and some last words I hope to be remembered for. It has been a beautiful feat writing as Sgt. Pepper but its time to be me, the real me. McKay Utley.

   ∆ Thank you for reading my work. All of you. And for taking the time to write your works yourself. It has been a privilege to be able to read your poetry, thoughts, and other posts.
   ∆ Thank you Nelson for being the teacher that you are. And for getting my creative juices flowing.
   ∆ Thank you Paris for letting me travel and treating me well. Thank you for teaching me so much.


   My final requests to you is not to forget Paris, don't forget to be yourself, and don't forget to live. I know that sounds a bit cheeky but far too often we go through life in a series of knee-jerk reactions and we end up as absurd people we never dreamed of becoming.



   Some things you should know about me

  ∆ If you really knew me you would know that I have an obsession with the man in the moon.
  ∆ If you really knew me you would know I drive a car that closely resembles a potato.
  ∆ If you really knew me you would know that I like simplicity.
  ∆ If you really knew me you would agree that I have been born in the wrong time area and my heart belongs to the 50's
  ∆ If you really knew me you would know that I have a gypsy soul.
  ∆ If you really knew me you would think I am obsessed with the mountains. You wouldn't be wrong
  ∆ If you really knew me you would know how bad I am at taking care of plants and cacti, but it doesn't stop me from still buying them.
  ∆ If you really knew me you would know that it's really hard for me to live in Alpine, Ut. as I am not active in church.
  ∆ If you really knew me you would know how obsessed I am with girls that can pull off the messy bun look
  ∆ If you really knew me you would see me for who really am and not the person you assume me to be.


   
   In the beginning I was scared to death of posting my works. Now looking back, it was a hell of a good thing for me. When I am old and grey I know I will look back at this experience and remember all these blogs, my pen name,  Paris, , my fat journal, and "THE YEAR OF NO MISTAKES". Thank you for traveling alongside me.

   Sgt. Pepper may not hide my identity anymore but I will always belong to The Lonely Hearts Club.


                               -Sgt. Pepper

  

6 ft holes

   it's brutal.

   it's lonely.

   it's all so surreal.

   it's a nightmare where being pinched doesn't wake you up.

       ....being pinched is nothing compared to what i
              feel right now.

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   we keep filling in those holes that the world has dug for you because we cant imagine living where      you are 6 ft in one.

   i have blisters from the shovel and bruises on my knuckles from the fights but i will not stop.

   i will continue to fight these many fights and fill in these holes until i am lowered into one myself.

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   but in the meantime, i will be here.

   giving my everything to ensure that you are here too.

please dont go, please dont go. i love you so, i love you so.

 

Stolen Time

thank you's I dont know how to say

  Thank you, Mr. Hawk, for climbing great heights to show me this world so many different way. 

  Thank you, sweet momma bird, for singing me to sleep all those many night.

  Thank you, big bear, for following all the humble ones while still beating to your own drum. 

  Thank you, Fred & Jessie, for being those friends every child needs. For all those nights I was scared of monsters in the closet and you were there for me. 

  Thank you, mountain man, for being everything I hope to someday be. 

  Thank you, miss flapper girl, for standing by my side over all these years. For laughing with me and crying with me. For looking at the stars and drawing the solar system on my arm. For being the most dear friend I could ever have. 

  Thank you, Emmylou, for giving me some of the greatest laughs of my life. For opening my eyes after they have been closed for so long and awakening my heart after such a long slumber. For seeing me as who I really am unlike so many do. 

  Thank you, sky, for the time we had. For getting me through the hardest chapter of my life and doing so with all the love you gave. And for being my partner in crime.

  Thank you, gypsy spirit, thank you for everything. Thank you for being such a beautiful soul and helping me follow my dreams. For being the adventurer you are and going along with all my crazy ideas. 

  Thank you, boy with the goat pants, for being my closest friend for all that time. For staying up way too late with me and writing and singing all those silly songs. For laughing like little boys do and for acting like boys do. 

  Thank you, dirty wire, for being so wise. For being that voice of reason and showing me my dreams can be more than just dreams. 

  Thank you, Mother Nature, for being my playground. For being the place of so many memories. For providing so many adventures and being my giving tree.

heart-shaped bruises

       When you look at the shape of my heart, It doesn't look the same as it did when I got it.

       It's no longer making the classic *thump thump, thump thump* rather a sort of *thu thump, thum thup*

       It carries with it a large collection of battle-wounds, scars, bruises, and cuts that have come from one heartbreak after another. Some worse than others.

       Only she... Her heart gave mine a Grand Canyon.

      So forgive me if my heart moves real slow, it's just that it's trying to recover from a natural disaster.

      I don't know what you think, you may think it's trash, just a broken and tattered machine. But to me, it's perfect. Even with the many band-aids and stitches it has, It's mine and that's all that matters. And forever will it be mine, beauty-scars and all.

 

Notes to Nature

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Worm Food

We will soon be nothing more than worm food and memories.

 And when the earth lays me down under her ground I don't want to be just worm grub to others. I want to be a memory. 

I want to have sucked the marrow from every bone. 

I want to have seized every damn day. 

I want to have been homeless because homeless people know and appreciate the streets better than most people do their own homes. 

I want to love. 

I want to get lost in nature. 

I want to have given second chances. And third. And fourth. 

I want to have cried when I wanted to cry and laughed even I wanted to laugh.

I want to have made people's day. 

 I want to have sang and skipped because life is too short to live it trying to please others. 

It's too short to live it doing anything that makes you unhappy. 

After all, we will soon all be nothing more than worm food and memories. 

Defibrillation

      Hello my old heart, is that you beating? I've been wondering where you've been.  It's been far too
long that I've had this emptiness in my chest. I thought I had forgot how to love. I thought I was broken. So welcome home. Please, take off your shoes and stay a while. 

      I thought you might never return. I thought I would never again fall for your ways. But here you are and I'm falling, no I'm tumbling head over heels. How has it been being locked away, protected from the harsh idea called love? Are you sure you are ready to be given away again? 

      Please dear old heart, I know you're wounded and fragile, but don't leave me again. Being lonely is heartless and being heartless is real lonely. I hope you choose to stay. 

                I missed you...

Cigarettes

Fear is a cigarette. 

It's just a four letter word that controls us.

It's just a word, yet it runs our lives. 

I've seen life's ruined by cigarettes

I've seen life's ruined by fear. 

But fear is more addicting that a cigarette. 

And you could say that I fear cigarettes. But only more frighting, is fear. 

How to figure it out

 From the first day I opened my eyes, I've been trying to figure it out.

I've been trying, and trying, and trying. 

With little success I became comfortable with confusion and had a pleasant sense of perplexion. 

But do we always need to know the answer? Having every little detail figured out is overrated. 

I opened my eyes once again and realized that it's okay to not have it figured out. It's okay to be nothing but a spine as long as you keep breathing. It's okay to not be okay. 

Note to self: you don't need to have it all figured out.

listen to your elders...

Confessions from a Sunday Night Insomniac

-I want a tattoo so badly.

-I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. 

-I regret my first kiss. 

-I have tried to run away twice in the last year but changed my mind when I made it to the freeway. 

-I'm deeply scared of cubicles. They make me feel like I'm in an over-sized lunchbox. 

-When I was a young lad I was head over heels in love with Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. 

-I hate the idea of graduation because then all the familiar faces won't be familiar any more. 

-My entire wardrobe is thrift. 

-I cuss to damn much. 

-I am completely addicted to The Smiths and Neil Young. 

-Sunday nights make me blue. 

Future

"What do you want to be when you grow up"

I don't know... And I hope to never know. 

For when I do, I will have just wrote the final chapter of my story.

5 Years Time

Where will any of us be in 5 years?

Toast

TNT

Dreamers

Rebels

Wild youth

That's all we are 

That's all we've been

That's all we've ever known

Bricks I Wish I Had Thrown Through Your Window

Why I Can't Kill Spiders

I once threw a tantrum because my father killed a spider. That was nothing compared to watching someone you hold so dear suffer through cancer.

Death, to me, is more than just some abstract idea that one might be uneducated on. To me, death is alive. I have seen first-hand someone I would do anything for be alive, but when you look into their eyes all you see is emptiness.

...To this day I don't kill spiders

Hair was lost along with weight that wasn't there to lose. Hospital bills were stacked like mountains and hope sank seven miles to the deepest part of the ocean. Many masks were worn and many walls were built. Hospitals became homes and home became a vacation destination. This hellacious reality felt like eternity.

Now death never actually finished the job. All that's left now are scars on his stomach and scars in all over our barely beating hearts. There are moments I remember and moments I have tried to forget. I no longer have nightmares of fictional situations, I have nightmares that feel like déjà vu.

I rejoice that I no longer have to fear whether his death might be near. Although forever more will my reality of what death really is be altered.

What is Love?!?!

Here is to the man working from the cubicle. Painfully enduring long shifts trying to earn enough to support his wife and children. Putting their happiness before his own because that's what he calls love.

Here is to the single mom. Balancing 2 jobs while raising a family on her own. Doing all that she can to make ends meet. Going hungry some nights so that her children can feel the love she didn't get as a child.

Here is to the honeymooners. Not caring that they don't know how it's going to work out but trusting in love. They know that they are in love and that's all that matters to them right now.

Here is to the two men holding hands as they walk. Not believing all the world's rules on love. Living proof that love shouldn't be limited.  And although the papers don't show that they are, they are more in love than most couples dream possible.

Here is to the recess daydreamers. Swinging back and forth, up and down while their fingers are intertwined. Building sandcastle replicas of their future castles they will live in with their Prince Charming. Passing notes to one another with a check yes or check no section at the bottom. And that simple check of a box is their perspective of love.

Here is to the romance novelist. Who knows exactly what love should look like. So much so that she misses all the opportunities around her. She's determined to wait for love until her life becomes the inspiration for one of her books.  Forever daydreaming about what her love story will be.

Here is to those rebels out there who pair off before they are the sixteen. Who enjoy each others company in a way that is so baffling to their other friends but makes sense to them. A feeling strong enough to make them defy the set rules that have been made. But to them the feelings they have for each other could never be held by any guidelines.

Here is to the beach bum. Playing love songs on his guitar to the crowd on the street to provide him with the little he needs. He loves the new faces he sees every day and most importantly he loves his guitar. He doesn't need to fall in love to be in love.

Here is to the high school lovers. The ones the teachers have to separate in the hallways. Constantly fighting their parents who quote "you don't know what true love it". But to them, all they care about is each other and that's all the love they know and need. To them, it is true.

Here is to the child in overalls. Trying to write the best birthday card that he can to his mom for her to read the next day. Coloring all over it and misspelling a few words just trying to tell her how much he loves her. Signing his name with a love rather than a from just to let her know he loves her.

Here is to the grey haired couple celebrating 62 years of marriage. Receiving phone calls from their children and their new spouses congratulating them once again. And Of all the time that's been spent together they still manage to learn new things about each other. They have chosen to spend their whole lives together because they love each other so dearly.

And now here is to you. Loving in whatever way you are. Realizing there is no incorrect way to do it, just people with different ideas of what it should be.

Monday's

I tear up at the thought of Mondays.

  

(Monday Morning Blues)