I was watching a movie the other day and there was a scene with a child playing in an empty schoolyard. It reminded me of how I always used to go play in the schoolyards on the weekends. There was something very... peaceful about it. Usually, it was full of screaming kids and such... but when I came there on weekends, it seemed so peaceful... as if time had frozen. I had always gone to my old elementary school by the park. It was a great place, with the "hidden playground" behind the school... but there was the school a hundred yards down the hill from my house, where I would spend summers playing baseball with the neighbor kids and autumns playing football... but when we weren't doing that, I would often walk down the steps from the playground as if to head to the doors that led back into the school... but when I got to the bottom, instead of heading for the doors, I would head left, down the driveway that led towards the gym locker door and the cafeteria... walking along the side of the school... so quiet... so unfamiliar in its familiarity. I would read the graffiti from the '70s scattered along the back wall... and re-read it. You couldn't see the schoolyard, you couldn't see the street... and probably more importantly, no one on the street or in the yard could see me. I could just go there and sit on a little seat that looked like it had been carved in the earth along the fenceline a hundred years ago... I could sit there, and just be. I lived in a huge patch of forest in the middle of the city, and I had probably twenty different places like that... places I could just disappear for a while. Only a couple rivaled the little nook by the old cafeteria at the school at the bottom of the hill. The tower at the old monastery was the best... Sometimes, I would sneak out of my house on a school night and head over and up the seemingly thousands of steps in the pitch black... I had walked them so many times, I had the imperfections of each piece of slate memorized and never lost my step... On an autumn night, you could see the entire city from the tower... all the lights... the bridges... everything. I never got caught up there, in all the times I went. Even if I had, all the nuns had known me since I was five, and they wouldn't have done anything, anyway... I had free reign of the property, it seemed. But standing in that tower, looking over the city... it just felt like I dissolved into vapor and hung there high above the city, like a cloud... like nothing. I was everywhere... I was... nowhere.

Changing strings would be a good idea, at some point... and adjusting the truss rod.
The full-size (click) of the pic is pretty nice... I like my new lens.
Acoustic version of a song coming... soon... maybe.

Well... that didn't take long...

Stubie's brother? Gone... I had known him since high school, too... they were the same age difference as me and my brother... but I sure didn't see that coming less than a month later... or maybe I did... I don't know...

And then (oh, no, it's not over)... ANOTHER former student... gone (I was not quite as "close" to him as the other former student, but we were always friendly and would sometimes gather with a group of friends for lunch, etc.). This guy committed suicide and would not be found for eleven days. After speaking with some people about it, yesterday, it turns out that he was suffering from drug-induced schizophrenia/psychosis. Near the end, it seems he was reaching out to a lot of people for help, but apparently wasn't getting what he was needing from them...

I'm not unfamiliar with drug-induced schizophrenic behavior... on a rather personal level. I grew up with a girl... we had literally known each other since birth. Our fathers played music together for decades. At one point in her life, her and her mother moved into the house next door to mine. Within a few years, she began to show a marked change in her behavior... it would take miles of text to explain how, but needless to say, she had become a very different person as a young adult than she was as a teenager. At one point, she began calling my house about once a week and talking about how she "knew I was using my computer to put messages into her brain..." which, y'know, if I could have done stuff like that, back then... wuh-hoooooooah nellie! I was seeing a girl that had been friends with her for years, also, and one night she came over, having just been next door, and was clearly distraught. Turns out, my neighbor had taken her into a closet with a flashlight and was writing her notes on paper and passing them to her, to avoid speaking... because she "knew I was listening." She went on to "talk" about how I was imprinting her with all these "thoughts" and I was working for the government (prophesy?) in order to... well, I'm not really sure what I would have needed to use her for, really... and I guess that my motive was never really made quite so clear... but... yeah. I was a CIA operative using a Mac Quadra to turn young twenty-something women into zombies for... well, who knows what... I sure didn't. The actual problem? LOTS of cocaine mixed with LOTS of shit like fentanyl and the like... a glorious combination. The girl ran off with an equally-strange man to another state and started working as an operator at one of those big centers that handled infomercials and all kinds of stuff... and weird shit started showing up at my door. Like, products that I hadn't ordered, literature I hadn't requested... all kinds of things. She called at one point and told me that she was the one doing it... although she never really got around to telling me why... ended up moving back in next door... the strangeness ensued, once more, with phone calls and her sitting in her bedroom window watching me working on my computer, playing guitar, whatever... It was... strange, to say the least. I was later told by one of my bosses to "stay as far away from her as you possibly can" (which, having her living next door, was not the easiest thing to do), because people with psychosis can get suddenly, irrationally violent - not exactly new news, but nonetheless, my boss knew what he was saying (I would come to fully realize that hard lesson (in an entirely different situation), a few years later). The last I heard, she was "doing okay..." which has to be better than how she was doing back then, anyway.

But... like... this shit needs to stop... because it's not cool. I've already said I'm tired of hearing about people I know dying because of drugs... what the fuck was unclear about that?

So I was eating, last night, and I opened the paper... and bam! A smack right across the face... a picture of a guy I taught when I was in college... in the obituaries. I had taught him on three separate occasions... two times in a classroom setting and once in one-on-one tutoring sessions for a quarter... We got to be pretty decent acquaintances from the classroom stuff, which is why he asked me to do his tutoring, later on... So, I've known the guy for ten-plus years, now... seen him around here and there... he always stopped and talked when we would run into each other... and all this time, I never realized that he was half-brother with a guy I've been friends with since I moved back from Colorado...

Anyhow, in the tutoring, it was always more laid back and stuff as opposed to the classroom... among other things, he used to talk about his drug use, which was no biggie... I didn't really care a whole lot about how much he spent on drugs and blah blah blah... I mean, at the time, he was 20-21 and that's just how people like him thought they were supposed to behave... it's just "cool," or whatever... I remember what it was like... I wasn't that much different... well, I was with the choice of substances, but... whatever... no biggie... but that was a completely different time and "era of recreation..." even then, though, you could see it creeping up, coming around the bend. When I saw in the paper that in lieu of flowers, donations be sent to one of the big rehab centers around here, I kinda got a sick feeling... sure enough, I called his brother earlier and sick feeling, confirmed... fucking cocaine and oxy overdose...

It has to be, like, at least twenty people since I've come back from Colorado... three friends in the last month... watching the line of potentials growing; the next could be any of them and I shudder to think which one it will be... because it will be one of them... Picking a dead pool and sitting back and watching... because I've figured out, in all my trying to help the friends that have died from this shit... I can't. I may have a short-term effect, much like the shit they can't stop doing... but I could never help like they needed. Who am I or anyone else that's sick of watching friends fall compared to that hour or two of... what the fuck ever you wanna call that kind of "high?"

I can't stand the whole concept, anymore... humans are tools. I keep giving them way too much credit. That much more of a reason I need to be gone. I'm too tired to keep watching friends die... just too fucking tired.

As for the former friend and student... lesson learned, I suppose.

I'm so close to being out of here, I can taste it...

I hope everyone understands... I'm not doing it to spite them... I'm doing it because I don't see any other way...

I feel very strange...

I can't really explain it... but something's not right with me, at the moment.

Random loss of balance, even seated. Funny taste in the mouth. Seemingly forgetting to breathe... and blink... pupils are funny... an odd bit of an autonomic issue. I guess as long as the ticker keeps on ticking, I shouldn't sweat it, but...

Very sudden... very strange.

Kinda spooky.

Pass, already...

Protein... no, fruit. Mango... no, papaya... no... both. Yes. lol

Another, gone... Steve... no... Stubie... lots of crazy nights in that fucking car (how did we miss that pole, man?)... lots of fun at Mark's... and in Scott's basement (I remember how you always loved running that lightboard)... Every time I saw you at the Knights with the ol' man, it never failed that one of us would bring up some of the insane shit we did and lived to tell about it. Every time you came by the house or went to Pizza Hut with us, Ma would always tell me what a nice guy you were... 'cause... well, you were... of course, she never got to hear about us leaving Pizza Hut and getting tore up... from the floor up (I said stop, wait a minute, now, hold up?). Well, it wouldn't have changed the fact that you were a good guy... maybe a bit "corrupting" (haha), but hey - you kept me out of more trouble than you ever got me into.

I'm sorry it had to happen this way. No matter what, I'll always have a "whole lotta love" for you.

Rest well, young man,

"Jimmy Page"

It's been a week since Douchey went *poof*... I have to say, one of the better moves... everyone is sorta getting along, again (well, in that "I will talk shit about everyone behind their back but will at least smile to their face and work a little harder than I did when I saw his dead ass goldbricking" kind of way)... Voodoo is definitely a little less stressed, now (he told me about how he was really close to losing his job over him... and that's really impressive to consider... considering Voodoo, and all - you could tell he was eating away on his last nerve, but it's not like he could just fire him, willie-nillie... but... if Douchey just "went away," problem solved... for a lot of people, not just Voodoo). Overall, just a better feel. Oh, it will be short-lived, because someone else will take his place as the shit-disturber (like Woody & Beavis, and Drunkiepoo (and, subsequently, Drunkiepoo Too), and Baby-Killer, and all the others that came before him)... hopefully I'll be out of there in a couple weeks, anyway... then, I'll care even less than I do, now.

Thursday night was kind of eventful. There's a guy working there... decent guy... or so it seemed... but it turns out he's a wife-beater. The cousin of said wife works with him, too... and found out about it. I was standing there, listening to the "escalation" and it was pretty choice. My two best friends, there, come out for lunch and I'm like, "Hey, there's gonna be a brawl," and tell them what I heard. Wife-beater guy is kinda small, and Wife's-cousin is a lot bigger... so it could get ugly. Cousin goes and talks to Voodoo and has his coat and says he's done for the night and will probably lose his job in the morning because he's going to beat this guy... then proceeds to go buy some groceries... then proceeds to pace around the front for what seems like hours... I go to leave and I don't see Cousin anywhere, so I'm thinking maybe he cooled off and left, or was at least going to take care of this personal matter somewhere besides there (turns out, he was in the lot with a friend, waiting for Wife-beater)... I'm heading out and in walk two cops... one of them, one of the freakin' captains... pretty big deal, I'm thinking at this point. I'm good friends with both of them, so I ask the Cap'n, "What the fuck are you doing out at 5am?" to which he replies, "Making seventy-five bucks an hour..." lol Touche. So, I talk to them both for a while as Voodoo tries to wake up Dad and give him the lowdown... Anyhow, much longer story short, both parties were escorted from the lot and nothing happened (I'm still trying to figure out who called the cops, though)... but Cousin was fired up... and I can't say that I blame him. I have pretty low tolerance for people that come at girls like a man... but he probably handled it a little on the wrong side... and both of them are losing their jobs over it, now... perfect timing... but that's life... their life, anyway.

Sold myself a mortuary
Now loss is gain and I'm so very
tired of being used,
but what else can I do?

Close to me
but not inside, I know
Closer, parasite...

Someone should have told me when I was younger
Life was only learning how to lose
Now I'm older and so much stronger
And I only feel I'm being abused

I hold my hands out only hoping
For what I truly deserve
I draw back nothing
Only a promise
And I don't know what that's worth

And now my hands move slower and slower in pain
And, oh, my mind's going over and over -

My god, my soul is dead
Its ringing in my head
Disregarding what you said
I fall farther down, instead

My god, my soul is dead...

The things they always told you,
the things they tried to sell
You know they have created
your own personal hell

It's a beautiful lie...

...

Never wanted just to sell you,
just to tell you why
Never wanted just to heal you,
just to hear you cry...

The heart becomes a killer
when it forgets to be
Well, I guess it doesn't matter
'cause my heart just don't belong to me

And I think I lost my mind
in the middle of the line
when you said I would be just fine
if there were no you.

Even silence doesn't sound the same
Seems like we're waiting on someone to say -
anything
Silence only brings the pain,
and what I wouldn't give for that to change...

I was searching through some boxes looking for something and I came across a ream of wide ruled notebook paper... and I thought to myself, "What the fuck am I doing with this?" Seriously, I haven't used wide rule paper since probably fifth grade... so why would I have it? And more importantly, maybe, why would I still have it? Where did it come from? How did it get into that box? Did someone break into my house (again) and, instead of taking valuable stuff, leave a ream of paper in a random box? Did I drive to a store in my sleep and buy a ream of wide ruled paper?

Things can confuse me, sometimes... but... that's just weird.

It's probably gonna bug me until I figure out where it came from.

I let you take from me enough to fill the hole that someone has left in you...

...sucker.

"I made the human choice. Funny when you think about it; me making a human choice..."

...in their last moments, people show you who they really are... would you like to know which of them are cowards?

"I'm coming off just like you..."

I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask them where they're going and hook up with them, later.

My friend Smelly ("because she stinks") was telling me about how she finally confronted Douchey about the lies he's spreading about her (he has been telling everyone that she was "his girl")... he asked, "Is that so wrong?" to which she sat and laughed in his face (she told me later that she told him where to shove it, in no uncertain terms - she seemed almost excited about it, which I guess made it that much funnier)... I wondered why he was acting a little pissier than usual. I guess he didn't take it too well. Then later on, for whatever reason, he asked me if I was mad at him... and I said, "I don't know... am I?" (I mean, I had been doing nothing but generally ignoring him all night, per usual.) So he says, "Is it about bumming all those cigarettes?" to which I replied, "Trust me, I couldn't give two shits about cigarettes. (I'm actually in the process of quitting, finally.) It doesn't have anything to do with cigarettes." And he was just like, "Okay," and walked off, as if the words "it doesn't have anything to do with" didn't even take form in his mildly-retarded brain. It was almost classic. Later, he got all... I don't know... half-redneck about it (it must have sunk in a couple hours later)... and I flat out told him he was worthless and he really needs to check himself before he starts talking shit about people that aren't around to defend themselves to try to make himself look good because it makes him look pathetic, and he never knows who might step up and what will happen when they do... fair warning... fair enough, anyhow... he has no idea.

Then he goes and runs his mouth to his little junkie fiend kissass buddy who probably talks more shit about him than anyone (who isn't a whole lot better than him, honestly, but at least he can form complete sentences), who then finds me and tells me what he said (part of that whole "kissass" thing, I guess). See, Douchey's one of those... y'know... it's never "him" when a girl spurns his advances, it's always "them." They're the "cunts," or the "dirtybutts," or the "sluts," or whatever (if they're so trashy, then why aren't they sluttin' around with you, son?)... it couldn't ever be the fact that he's just a great big walking douche... but, y'know, according to him, she's the one that's been trying to get with him... and all the other girls at the store are trying to hook up with him... not the other way around... because he has a girlfriend - no wait, a fiance... that, incidentally, lives with her ex-husband, now, soooo... yeah... yet, everyone in the store can openly watch him endlessly hitting on all the girls... and customers... it's sad, but not so much. The best one, so far, is probably him hitting on the lesbian... granted, a very attractive lesbian, but nonetheless. Oh, but to hear him tell it... lol.

Next day, Smelly said that she was tired of him stalking her. Oh, yeah... did I leave that part out? Not only does he stalk his exes, but he stalks potential exes, too... knows where she lives, her number (she said she had some hangup calls the last few weeks, go figure), all that good stuff... a piece of work. But she's leaving the area, basically immediately, and taking her son, because she wants to feel safer. I think it's sad that people get so affected by things like that that they want to leave... but so be it.

Southern Ohio... Yeeha! Everyday I'm back here, I keep remembering more and more why I left... but this kind of shit is everywhere, in all places... it's just the lack of anything else going on around here that maybe makes it a little more dominant.

I grow weary of the petty bullshit... from every direction, everywhere I turn... especially from people that try to act like they're a "man." I'm sure when he started working there and tried to start his thing, she handled him like the wonderfully super-witty, sarcastic person she is and made him look like a fool (but I'm sure that he isn't remotely smart enough to have perceived it)... which isn't that hard, really... and it's not like I could blame him or the other guys that started working there for hitting on her (and there were many) - I mean, she's beautiful... granted, most will never see "depth" like I do, and will merely have to see her as nothing but a physical form. But, I mean... she worked there for quite a while before we ever spoke... sure, I saw her, all the time, but I wasn't some little uncontrollable puppy that just had to pee on the rug, right then - she never even remotely acknowledged my existence (hmm... kinda like now, go figure - a vicious little circle) - and I had no reason to ever think that she ever would (or should, even) - she was way beyond me, from the beginning... I do not know why she ever bothered to speak in the first place... and I guess I never will; I never got the chance to ask. I know how guys work, though, and I know why they were attracted to her - and it's not like I didn't hear about it all the time from the horde of cavedwellers... which is somewhat pathetic but understandable, I suppose... but I mean, the last thing I ever saw when I saw her, the last thing I thought about or considered was boobs (well, okay the last thing I ever thought about probably was her feet... because feet are gross... yet somehow, hers were even pretty nice... for feet) - truth be told, not a big fan, in general, and certainly not important when considering the whole (and especially her). I mean yeah, her body's really nice, but it was this whole... "thing..." I dunno... her shoulders (I always thought she had amazing shoulders... and I could never explain why it if I tried, just the shape of them and how they framed everything else)... and how they formed her neck... and how her hips gave way to her legs and the shape of her calves and... and, well, all kinds of stuff that people just don't care about, I guess... a wonderfully put-together package... and once we got to know each other, her intellect and her humor and everything else only made the physical that much more gorgeous... ... but... I genuinely dislike him so much, now... he had to go and push the wrong buttons... and in all his lack of faculties (and trust me, boy lacks some serious faculties), it kinda feels like he's been spreading shit about her to make sure I'll find out about it.

It's really kind of... weird. I keep telling myself it's no big deal... and it isn't. It's not. Yet, it hurts to see people act like that towards her... I care... things like that matter to me... maybe more than the people who care matter to her, in the end... but still, I can't fight the will to defend her. She doesn't deserve that kind of shit... especially when she's not even around to set it straight, herself.

Fuck... WHY am I rambling on about it, all? I spent half a page talking about things that don't matter... I don't matter... it does not matter, anymore... she saw to that. Yet, no matter how much it shouldn't matter...

I'm going to end that mess... I'm tired of having to even bother with feeling anything about it... any of it... anything, at all... one way or the other. I'll just go back to pretending. It's much easier.

"Perhaps because I'll never be one, humans are interesting to me."
Morgan... here I come.

Aaaaaugh!

I'm irate...

Two reasons...

First, I missed getting a huge promotion at work by a gnat's testicle... to, as I was told, "a complete buffoon." It would have meant a new city. It would have been great... but it's not happening. At least, not quite yet.

Secondly... well, speaking of buffoons... I have posted on here before about hearing (and overhearing) coworkers speaking... "poorly..." about someone I care about... I was talking to one of my friends at work the other night and we were discussing something about makeup on girls and why girls seem to think that wearing tons of makeup makes them look better, or something, but it just tends to make them look more like... I dunno... trashy. In walks, let's just call him "Douchey..." and we do what we always do, and ignore his presence and keep talking about what we're talking about. My friend is a real good friend, and was already well aware of the situation between me and this certain someone I care about, so I feel able to talk to him about certain things (in fact, I can pretty much credit him and his family with "talking me off the edge" this Spring, when I was at my lowest - he was the only person who knew what was really going on from day one, because I don't trust anyone, but I trust him). So I'm talking about how the best makeup looks like no makeup... commenting that I had sat and watched her one day, taking, like almost an hour "getting ready," and y'know doing her eyebrows, and putting on makeup and all that, and besides her painting her fingernails with a color I had picked out, "she looked just as stunning as she did before she did all that stuff, but the only difference was her hair was dry, now." Douchey was walking out of the room as I was saying something like, "[her name], I could roll you around in a mud puddle and you would be just as beautiful and kissable as you do spending all that time doing that stuff..." It was a mistake to say her name, I know, but I thought he was out of the room... he turns out to have been "lingering" behind an obstruction, listening. He kind of pops out behind said obstruction and flashes this look that he likes to give to try to act all "intimidating," or something, to some of the people (which, he doesn't like most anybody at work, myself included - because I call him out on the bullshit he tries to pull with people, there to try to make himself look impressive, especially to the ladies - but I could hardly give a shit), and turns and walks out of the room all macho chest-puffy and that kind of ridiculousness... I pointed out to my buddy that Douchey had been listening to us... which we just thought was weird... but we blew it off. So, tonight I was working with another one of my friends who knew what was going on, but not quite to the degree... but I was telling him about Douchey snooping and he proceeded to tell me about how, when I was on days doing my rehab stuff getting my back into any kind of shape, Douchey would incessantly hit on this girl (and then turn around and hit on one of the so-called "hotties" on the front end, seconds later) and tell everyone about how they were gonna hook up and how she wanted to come out and see his house (um, his dad's house - did I mention that his dad pays for his child support, food, car, gas, methadone (which he can blow a week's worth in two days... of course) - that's a hell of a "man" for ya, right there) and all this stuff... to which everyone apparently laughed in his face... literally. But to know this guy, he basically stops working anytime any girl of various degrees of attractiveness comes into his work space and starts schmoozing them, sometimes even following them around the store... and they could be fourteen year-olds... and that's not an exaggeration. He will basically chase any girl around with a pulse that looks him in the eye and says hello ("hello" is apparently "Doucheyspeak interpretives" for "Hey, wanna impregnate me and skip out on your responsibilities as a man?")... and again, that is not exaggerating - we've all had a chance to see it happening, and I, in my position at work, have witnessed many times. He talks about how all these girls at work "want him" and how he's been hooking up with them... when in fact, all these girls talk about how creepy and stupid he is and they can see through him like a sheet of saran wrap and he's been involved with none of them... and apparently he can't give the same age (or story) to the same girl... to the 18 year-olds, he's 23... to the 22 year-olds, he's 27, blah blah blah... and he loves to brag on his illegitimate baby boy... and never seems to mention his other two illegitimate children he has to them, as if they don't exist (which is just all kinds of low)... and, well, there's all kinds of outrageous lies he tells them about himself... it's an endless ball of pathetic hilarity, in all truth. Anyhow, so my buddy tells me about how when they were on break, Douchey out of the blue starts talking about how the aforementioned girl had just called him the other day and wanted to come into town and hook up (which, when I heard the little group of people talking before, he was the one that was talking a pretty big majority of trash about her - more apparently to me now because she found him completely annoying and not what he was trying to purport... and he's one of those guys that, when faced with rejection, just turns around and talks shit about them)... talking about how he was just going to "get her fucked up, tap it, and forget her" (I honestly expected nothing better from him)... which, the girl he's "engaged to" (yeah, right) might probably take exception to, I'm sure, especially since they both purportedly live together (the last I had heard was that the girl had actually excluded his name off the birth certificate and had moved back in with her ex husband and wanted Douchey to have no contact with the child, whatsoever). What someone closer to the situation told me is that he will leave work, some times on break, sometimes just all together ("not feeling well") and will go stalk his ex, parking in front of her house and just sitting there... which is just freakishly twisted.

I didn't like the guy when I first met him, because he had this whole "full of shit beyond comprehension" written all over his face. I really didn't like him when he said the totally rude stuff he said about someone I care a lot about (well, there was more than just him, but he was just egging it on and on)... and I really dislike him, now... Everyone's kind of wanted him gone for a while, now, because he's a waste of the store's time and money and a completely worthless, mildly-retarded (no joke) numbnut... and I'm not going to stand for a piece of shit on my shoe like that pulling this shit, trying to get some kind of "one up" on someone and continue to lie about her... I want him gone... just... away... and I will go out on a limb and predict he will be... very soon... maybe even sooner. Douchey's days at work are numbered... take it to the bank.

Ugh... I don't want to talk about this stuff... I don't want to think about this stuff... but I can't stand to see a complete piece of shit spread lies about someone I care about and treat her, in absentia, like dirt - when she can't be there to defend her dignity... I'd love to watch her spit in his face. I'd love to hold him down and let her do it, just to see the look on his pathetic face... and probably better yet, on hers.

More good music...

soon.

This week coming up would have marked seven months since I last picked up a guitar... The afternoon of April 18th, I had just finished recording some acoustic songs - likely the best music I've ever written in almost thirty years of playing guitar - and the recorded results were really, really good... because I just let it happen, I didn't pressure myself, I didn't sit and nitpick myself to death until I was so frustrated I just chucked it... but as good as it was, it took every ounce of passion I've ever had inside me to do it... and I felt that was it, it was all over. I let my guitars sit and gather dust (one is still sitting in virtually the same place I left it out at the riverhouse by the "shabby chic" china cabinet, waiting to have the strings changed and be played like it was intended to be one late night, seven months ago - I was five minutes late that night, and my world somehow went to Hell). I still heard music, dreamed music, felt music all around me, but I had no desire to explore it. After agreeing to work on a project for a student film that involves my "other side" of music (the experimental, non-rock, sometimes just plain goofy side), I actually had the chance to stand and look at myself in the mirror, something I do not do... ever... and a couple weeks ago, a choice was made (thanks Bret/Will/Brian/Corey (for helping relight a fire) and especially "the invisible one" for really helping me realize (by... "not helping"(?) ...leaving me to figure it out on my own) what was wrong with me).








(the songs seem a bit conflicting... but that's life)

Sometimes, I have the funniest dreams... sometimes, not.

care

I've always felt that hating someone is one thing, but just not caring about them anymore is far worse... I mean, to me. To hate something... or someone... implies caring enough to have a hatred for it, or them, or whatever. And it's usually not a case for me to hate first, then not care; they stand as two separate kinds of things. Like, I "hate" the way a lot of guys treat the women in their lives... but I generally "don't care" about the guys... generally. They could get run over by a milk truck and I wouldn't feel anything for them (I guess in some cases, I would feel some satisfaction for them getting something that they deserve for being the douchebags that they are). I have a rather small circle of "friends" that I really care about, and a huge circle of "acquaintances" that... well... I dunno.

I'm close to adding people to the "don't care at all" list... it kind of surprises me a little bit... but then again, it doesn't... at all. I thought maybe I would just "hate" them, but the more I realize about me, the more I realize that I won't hate them... I'll just stop caring in any fashion or form. They don't care about me, at all, so why should I care enough to hate them for who they really are? Oh, that's right... I don't.

This week marks nine months since I've drank (well, save one Sierra Nevada Pale Ale at a party in New York in August, but damnit, I was just thirsty). It's not like I really drank a whole lot in recent years, but it feels good to eliminate it from "things that could potentially be really bad." My dad was just a few years older than me when he had his first stroke. It ruined his life - both the stroke and drinking, in general... and drinking definitely brought it to a very premature conclusion. I still have a lot of life in me and a lot to do with it... and I'd like to be this person as long as I can so that I can do it all to the best of my ability. The biggest thing I have going for me in life is just "me..." and I hope that I can put it all to good use for the present and the future... of "me." lol

You ever wake up from a dream laughing? It wasn't "absurd," or anything... just really funny... if I had a video camera for my head, it would have been one of those moments I would like to preserve and watch again... it was sitcom quality shit.

tired

I am soooooo tired (yeah, I know I said the same thing the other night)... it happens, but damn. I get too busy, sometimes. If I could, I would sleep all day (that sounds like such a great idea)... but Ma's in town. I couldn't spend time with her tonight because I had to be out of town, but I need to hang out with her before she heads back home... so I won't get to sleep as much as I'd like to... or likely need to. So... maybe I should sleep while I can, instead of sitting here talking about how beat I am. Here's to... better dreams, for a change?

Better dreams, indeed. :)

I like rain... but I like my rain with "BOOM," not this Seattle, Ohio dreary drizzle shit... it's just annoying. It just makes me sleepy... and I love sleep... but when you have so much to do and you'd rather just be asleep, it makes for a big bowl of suck.

tired

I'm so tired... but I can't sleep. I just lay here, toss and turn, back and forth. I am comfortable (for a change)... but I can't find it... I am too alive with thought.

If I could only bring myself to read the emails, again...

So, I was hanging with one of my best friends before meeting up with Ma, who's in town for a day, for dinner... I was telling him about the hobag that used to "live" downstairs and her baby getting hepatitis and all that... So he proceeds to tell me about how one of our friends, "John Doe," was recently diagnosed with hepatitis, as well... and, in turn, gave it to his wife. He says that he got it from snorting pills.

"What?!?! Bullshit! Hepatitis isn't in boogers - oh... wait... I'd never really considered it, but... duh..."

Yep. It's true... or at least the only likely possibility. See, "John" is a bit of a community pillar... a great job... no promiscuity, no IV drugs... ever... no blood transfusions, no blood "accidents." Loves his wife, dearly... a really good guy, through and through... but "John" had injured himself some years ago and became addicted to prescription pain medicine. Now, meet "Dave Douchebag." "Dave" is not so much of a pillar... six jobs in five years - quit or was fired from them, all. "Dave" has a pretty public drug problem and has for a long time, since we were kids, basically. So "Dave" gets hepatitis from... whatthefuckever he did to get it... who knows, y'know? "Dave" and "John" have been friends forever, too, and they would occasionally get together and crush 'em up... but see, "Dave" has a bunch of little, bleeding holes in his schnoz... it's not like he walks around town bleeding profusely from these lesions, or anything like that... he's just done a lot of shit that has done bad things to his nose... a little teency, weency, tiny, nearly-microscopic speck of blood in the tiniest plop of mucus from "Dave" gets in/on the straw, he shares it with "John" (over the course of... a long time) and... BOOM, welcome to the world of hepatitis. I was thinking that "John" would need to have said lesions, as well, which he may or may not have... I was curious so we Googled it. After sorting through some of the garbage/scare tactic/propaganda and finding actual medical evidence, it turns out the "recipient" doesn't even need to have any "nasal issues," because hepatitis can be absorbed through the nasal membrane, directly. I'm sure the chances are a bit slimmer than those who have, say, shared needles (or even equipment during said bang), but still, it's there and it happens... apparently with some frequency, even. Hepatitis C can live in the air and on surfaces for over 16 hours... There's really no need to go into how "John" gave it to his wife, is there? It was discovered through a routine blood-screening. Needless to say, "John" is not happy... but he doesn't blame "Dave," douchebag or not. I mean, there's no real way to no for sure. He just knows he has something that's likely going to fuck his life-span... in a very real way.

It turns out that HIV can be transmitted in the same way (as any other blood-borne pathogen)... however rarely... HIV doesn't live remotely as long outside a human host. It has a real problem with this whole "air" thing. "John" is HIV negative.

I'm a little irritated by it... that I had never considered the possibilities of something like that. I mean, in all the weirdness I have seen in my life, all of the stuff I've seen happen to people through "sheer stupidity," I'd never even thought of something like that as a means of contracting diseases like that... a cold, maybe, but... but after reading about it ("knowledge is power, yo"), it's like, "Damn... Damn, indeed.". It's just so weird, y'know? Why do bad things have to happen to good people, while bad people get a lucky pass, so often?

I hate to hear it, "John Doe." I hope science figures out a way for you to rid yourself of it.
: \

so...

So the drug dealer/pimp that got evicted downstairs got popped (his old lady got hooked up, too)... finally. Seems he had been "hiding out" with some other fine, upstanding local citizens, who joined him in his arrest... made a bad move, got desperate, and sold to the wrong people... like the typical low-class, amoral dumbass. The buyer got popped and sung their little heart out, opening up a big can of worms that's gonna end up with several more wankers before it's all over. I read the police report and it was sadly humorous how stupid these people were.

That was the "good news," I guess.

The bad news... the crusty nineteen year-old hooker tramp that he was telling people was his "daughter," arrested twice since the eviction. They got some blood from her - hepatitis (imagine that), of the "luggage" (C) variety... and apparently the little baby of hers has it, too... and is showing signs of liver failure... already. So unless the baby was sharing mom's toothbrush (oh yeah, it happens that way more than you'd think) or was stupid enough to leave a needle out for baby girl to play with while momma ho got the nods... she was born with it... which means momma ho probably didn't know she had it, either. I mean, a vast percentage of people with it don't know they have it for a long time... and in the meantime, they do things like bring kids into the world that are born with it and pretty much screw them (not to mention themselves) out of a chance at a decent life.

It makes me angry (on a few levels)... and it makes me sad (on a few other levels)... a little small-town microcosm of the real world kicking you in the gut.

I about fell out of my chair when I saw this... but you would've had to have been there, I guess.

...I'd sell my soul,
my self-esteem a dollar at a time
for one chance, one kiss,
one taste of you, my Magdalena...

devil

Knocking on my door was an Evil Silhouette
Knocking this morning, a black Silhouette
Knocking on my door was an Evil Silhouette
and their eyes were glowing like two lit cigarettes...

Darling, I'm lost
Adrift in the dark
I'm clutching your words
to my vampire heart, once more
So let in the light
Turn me to dust
If it don't end in bloodshed, dear
It's probably not love

Here we are
in the darkest place
My reflection
shows only your face

Something is found,
Something is lost
Went looking for clues
on the streets of old New York
And I spilled someone's blood
I broke someone's heart, again
Someone you know
You're looking at him, my friend

And the people in our lives
We all leave behind
Leave behind

Here we are
In the darkest place
To keep from forgetting
I picture your face
And I wonder
While we count the cost
Which is sweeter
Love or it's loss

So I curse you,
my vampire heart
For letting me love you
For letting me love you
from the start...

sleeping beauty

So delusional,
I believed I could cure it all
for you, dear
Coax or trick or drive or
drag the demons from you
Make it right for you, Sleeping Beauty,
Truly thought I could magically heal you

You're far beyond a visible
Sign of your awakening
Failing miserably to rescue
Sleeping Beauty

Drunk on ego,
Truly thought I could make it right if I
kissed you one more time to
help you face the nightmare, but you're
far too poisoned for me
Such a fool to think that I could
wake you from your slumber
That I could actually heal you

Sleeping Beauty
Poisoned and hopeless

You're far beyond a visible
Sign of your awakening
Failing miserably to
Find a way to comfort you
Far beyond a visible
Sign of your awakening,
Hiding from some poisoned memory

Poisoned and hopeless,
Sleeping Beauty...

3 Libras

Threw you the obvious
And you flew with it on your back
A name in your recollection
Down among a million, same

Difficult not to feel a little bit
Disappointed and passed over
When I look right through,
See you naked but oblivious

And you don't see me

But I threw you the obvious
Just to see if there's more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy

Here I am expecting just a little bit
Too much from the wounded
But I see, see through it all
See through, see you

'Cause I threw you the obvious
To see what occurs behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy

Oh, well...
Apparently nothing,
Apparently nothing at all

You don't see me
You don't see me at all...

kanye

I've bitched about Kanye West for years on my other weblog... because he deserves it. His latest drunken rant at the Mtv VMAs just continues to prove my theory that he is among the biggest douches in the universe... and of course he apologizes for it... because everyone will go, "oh, he's sorry," which frees him up to do it all over, again... which he will... you know it... and I know it. He has proven me right every step of the way... and will continue to do so... because he's an incredible asshole. And to think that anyone looks at this guy and says, "cool...". He couldn't be anymore uncool if he tried... and he tries... and tries... and tries.

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, lemme show you what it's all about!




Easy as



Simple as









Baby


(thanks to my niece Violet for supplying the improv'd artwork when I was up there, last month)

Well, scratch one piece of Cincinnati junkie white trash drug dealing shit... Becky evicted him this week and the boys in black are about to put the big pinch on him at the place he's holed up in... He's nowhere to be seen around here, finally... but his "daughter" (aka the little oxyhooker he's been pimping and paying the rent for in at least two other places) is still there... with her little developmentally-challenged infant daughter (there have been three other people "living there" since he moved in, and it supposed to be JUST him). Seems the authorities are going to have to put them out... all I can say is that I hope I don't come home to a burned down house. I feel pretty bad for the little kid, I guess. I mean, born with birth defects from her piece of shit mother's tragic habit... with a piece of shit junkie whore for a mother. So much against her, already. One of my friends said that CPS is preparing to get involved, which may or may not help. I mean, all the mom will have to do is pass a drug test or two to get the kid back... and begin the cycle all over. But this guy... this guy was great. I had him pegged when I first met him, pretty much... well, the second time, anyway. He was all dapper, with his suit and his business card talking about how he's a construction supervisor from Cincy in town for work... and the second time I see him, in cut-off jean shorts, wife-beater, Busch Light in a horrid glass mug, hammered, acting like a tit, pacing to the corner and back, talkin' about how I look like I like to party and he could help me out... followed by the thirty people comin' and goin' at all hours, the "daughter" perched on the porch waiting for her "ride..." It's a bit humorous when people think they're smart or they're being "slick" or something... and they just have no fucking clue... like I needed any help in this instance. lol Nonetheless, it's nice when friends look out for you.

So yep... Scratch one piece of junkie white trash drug dealing shit...

One down...

there for you

Sometimes I'm a selfish fake
You're always a true friend
I don't deserve you
'Cause I'm not there for you
Please forgive me, again

I wanna be there for you
Someone you can come to
Runs deeper than my bones
I wanna be there for you

Swirling shades of green
Slow dancing in your eyes
The sun kisses the earth
And I hush my urge to cry

Cry...

I wanna be there for you
Someone you can come to
Runs deeper than my bones
I wanna be there for you

'Cause I hear the whispered words
In your masterpiece beautiful
You speak the unspeakable through -
I love you, too

I wanna be there for you
Someone you can come to

I wanna be there for you
And be
someone you can come to
The love
runs deeper than my bones
The love,
I wanna be there for you...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

gravity

Lost again, broken and weary,
unable to find my way
Tail in hand, dizzy and clearly
unable to just let this go

I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown
Catch me, heal me,
Lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live...

I fell again, like a baby,
unable to stand on my own
Tail in hand, dizzy and clearly
unable to just let this go

I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown
Catch me, heal me
Lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live...

Help me survive the bottom

Calm these hands before they
Snare another pill and
Drive another nail down
Another needy hole
Please, release me...

I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown
Catch me heal me
Lift me back up to the sun...

I choose to live...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

I'm not coming back, I'm not gonna react, I'm not doing shit for you
I'm not sitting around while you are tearing it down around us
I'm not living a lie while you swim in denial
'Cause you're already dead and gone
You'll leave me out on the curb just like everyone else before you

Welcome to my world
Where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone
Another lesson burned and I'm drowning in the ashes
Kicking, screaming, welcome to my world

I don't care what you think, I'm not seeing a shrink, I'm not doing this again
I'm not another student or a mother to take your shit out on
So let's see what you got and let's see what you're not
And whatever else you pretend
You've defended my intentions long enough

Welcome to my world
Where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone
Another lesson burned and I'm drowning in the ashes
Kicking, screaming, welcome to my world

So here I am again, in the middle of the end
The choice I wish I'd made, I always make too late

Welcome to my world
Where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone
Another lesson burned and I'm drowning in the ashes
Kicking, screaming,
welcome to my world...

heal over

It isn't very difficult to see why
You are the way you are
Doesn't take a genius to realize
That sometimes life is hard
It's gonna take time
But you'll just have to wait
You're gonna be fine
But in the meantime

Come over here lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer baby
'Cause you'll heal over
Heal over
Heal over someday

And I don't wanna hear you tell yourself
That these feelings are in the past
You know it doesn't mean they're off the shelf
Because pain's built to last
Everybody sails alone
But we can travel side by side
Even if you fail
You know that no one really minds

Don't hold on but don't let go
I know it's so hard
You've got to try to trust yourself
I know it's so hard...

so hard

Come over here lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer baby
'Cause you'll heal over,

heal over someday...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

battle

You thought we'd be fine
(All this time) gone by
Now your asking me to listen,
well then tell me 'bout everything
No lies, we're losing time

'cause this is a battle
and it's your final last call
It was a trial, you made a mistake, we know
But why aren't you sorry, why aren't you sorry, why?
This can be better, you used to be happy to try

You've got them on your side
And they won't change their minds
Now it's over and I'm feeling like we missed out on everything
I just hope it's worth the fight

This is a battle
and it's your final last call
(Why'd you have to let it go?)
It was a trial, you made a mistake, we know
(Can't you see you've hurt me so?)
Why aren't you sorry, why aren't you sorry, why?
Things can be better, you can be happy, try

'cause this is a battle
and it's your final last call
It was a trial, you made a mistake, we know
(Can't you see you've hurt me so?)
But why aren't you sorry, why aren't you sorry, why?
This can be better...
we can be happy...
try...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am home, again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am whole, again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am young, again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am fun again

However far away, I will always love you
However long I stay, I will always love you
Whatever words I say, I will always love you
I will always love you

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am free, again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am clean, again

However far away, I will always love you
However long I stay, I will always love you
Whatever words I say, I will always love you
I will always love you...

Rest in Peace, Les.
I should have come to see you when I was in New York the time before this most recent trip. I was selfish. I'm sorry.

The climbs were closed for the peregrine falcon nesting season... but I just read that three chicks "flew the coop" so they were opening the climbs back up.

Done with the ponies for the day... goin'... to a go-go at this fine estate for the evening.

This is what I was doing, today... how 'bout you?

P.S. -  Thoroughbreds are frickin' sweet.

When your niece loves "Bob L'Eponge" and you have a Crayola Color Explosion pad at your control... ya do what ya gotta do.

Well, add another douche to the list of "people that seemed cool but are actually assholes." ... I just don't understand it. Do these people think what they say won't dig into me? Well, this person is just too... lamebrained to probably even realize they were saying anything "wrong" in the first place... but referring to a "fake smile" and "general phoniness..." I mean, is that really the best stuff to talk about at work? Where everyone has passed everything around to the point where it's so twisted and convoluted in the first place... and so then they feel entitled to add their two lame cents. UGH GOD I am starting to hate those fucks (and I tend to generally not hate people... I just "don't care," which to me, is far worse)... can't they just wait for me to not be in the general vicinity before spewing that crap? If she's "fake," then what the fuck are they when they act like they're her friend when they see her?

I thought about staying on days for just this reason... but it even sorta followed me there, too.

...at least I don't have to see them for a couple weeks, anyway.

Fuck. I hate being pissed about this... but I fucking can't help it.

Enter in this black cloud
Keeps looking over his shoulder
No method to his madness
Heavy is the world as he crashes down.

Hands down
This haunts you
So dopesick
I'll remain.
Hands down
This haunts you
So dopesick...

More than he could bear now
Some thought that he would come around
Screaming for his blank space
Could not wipe this from his face.

Hands down
This haunts you
So dopesick
I'll remain.
Hands down
This haunts you
So dopesick...

Could never tell by the whites of their eyes.

I am the devil...
and I'm here to do the devil's work.

good

I worked all night... and only spoke to four people... and they thought something was wrong with me... goofy, naive asses.

It felt... good.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

You're the color,
You're the movement and the spin.
Could it stay with me the whole day long?
Fail with consequence, lose with eloquence
And smile.
I'm not in this movie
I'm not in this song.
Never
Leave me paralyzed, love.
Leave me hypnotized, love.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

I almost got fired, tonight... well...

One of my friends at work was talking about this guy that comes in, all the time... well, he used to come in a lot and bother a particular someone... then he kinda disappeared for a while, because it was made known to him that particular people don't appreciate him coming in and bothering them... anyhow, that particular person left for supposed greener pastures and such, so that old guy has been coming in, again and bothering different people with, among other things, overtly lewd sexual advances. Anyhow, there were several people around while the friend was telling the story when I came into the scene and heard what they were talking about, but I didn't know who they were talking about. One of my other friends mentioned his name, and I was like, "Oh, yeah... that cat used to come in here all the time and proposition [a particular someone] for sex..." to which someone else, who this particular someone would consider a friend, says, "I'm surprised she didn't take him up on it..." and several others (a couple of which don't even really know anything about this particular person other than having worked with them for a few weeks) laughed and a couple idiots made their own snide comments... I didn't find any of it funny... at all.

...

Okay, so that was a little confusing... but to sum up, an innocent story turned into shit talk about someone that matters to me, and I almost lost my cool and blasted a couple people (one in particular, anyway). I could feel my face catching on fire and my jaw clench up... I had just helped take down a complete fuckwit thief about a half hour earlier and my adrenaline was totally hopped up. I'm not sure how I contained myself, or my mouth, or anything... but I managed to walk away... this time. For whatever reason, people really can't control their shit talk, there. Do they really think that highly of themselves, or something? It's not the first time derogatory things have been said about this person in my presence since I've been back... by people that would look them in the face and be all "buddy buddy" with them. It's hard for me to respect people... and they're not making anything any easier on me... and they know it gets to me.

Go figure.

How Twilight SHOULD HAVE Ended

sparks

Did I drive you away?
I know what you'll say
You'll say, "Oh, sing one we know"

But I promise you this
I'll always look out for you
That's what I'll do

I say "Oh"

I saw sparks
Yeah I saw sparks

My heart is yours
It's you that I hold on to
That's what I do

I know I was wrong
I won't let you down
Oh yeah, I will,
yes I will

I say "Oh"
I cry "Oh"

Yeah I saw sparks...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Former NFL quarterback/animal murderer Michael Vick was "officially released from federal custody," today.

...

Who gives a flying fuck? Yes, I love football... but I hope someone exacts some good ol' fashioned street justice on that punk because he didn't pay for his crime nearly enough... the last thing he should be allowed to do is re-enter a professional sport and make millions of dollars, again. He had his chance, he fucked up in a big way... he has done nothing worthy of a second chance (or, if you look at his life, an eighth or ninth chance) - I don't care how many PSAs he does for the ASPCA, I don't care how many shelters he opens, I don't care what he does to try to make himself look better... he's a product of the ridiculously ignorant "hip-hop" lifestyle that taught him that, among many other things, dogfighting and violently drowning creatures that don't make the grade is "okay..." even cool. It's not like he was some "good guy that caught up in something bad with the wrong people" - he's been involved in shady shit far beyond this... he IS the "wrong people." He didn't, like, "make a mistake" - he was bankrolling and actively participating in this for over seven years. He's had his chance, he blew it... now time to go work for a casino as a greeter, or something. Stay the Hell out of the NFL. Why people have any sympathy for douchers like this or thinks he deserves any better than what he gave to those dogs is beyond me.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Here I go again
Slipping further away
Letting go again
Of what keeps me in place
I like it here
But it scares me to death
There is nothing here

The light is beautiful
But I’m darker than light
And you are wonderful
But this moment is mine
All of this dust
All of this past
All of this over and gone
And never coming back
All of this forgotten
Not by me

I find comfort here
Cos I know what is lost
Hope is always fear
For the pain it may cost
And I have searched for the reason to go on
I’ve tried and I’ve tried
But it’s taking me so long
I might be better off
Closing my eyes
And God will come looking for me
In time
All of this dust
All of this past
All of this over and gone
And never coming back
All of this forgotten
Not by me

I can see myself
I look peaceful and pale
But underneath
I can barely inhale
I can hear myself singing that song
Over and over until it belongs to me

mouthful

Mouthful of cavities
Your soul's a bowl of jokes
And everyday you remind me
How I'm desperately in need

See, I got a lot of fiends around
And they're peaking through nothing new
They see you
They see everything you do
See everything on the inside, out

Oh, please give me a little more
And I'll push away those baby blues
'Cause one of these days this will die
So will me and so will you

I write a letter to a friend of mine
I tell him how much I used to love to watch him smile
See I haven't seen him smile in a little while
Haven't seen him smile in a little while

But I know you're laughing from the inside out

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

one less

Satisified and otherwise tired of the options
Like seldom have the strength to see and
They never take serious enough
Serious enough

One less away from everything that's grounded me
I am
One less away from half the world surrounding me
My life

Nothing more and over done
Over looked and yesterday everything was making sense
Hear me out my love
Hear me out my love

One less away from everything that's grounded me
I am
One less away from half the world surrounding me
My life

Hear me out my love
Hear me out I love

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Grace is the wind that filled my sails
and took me to shores I'll never know
to taste the fruit of her scarred but beautiful land

Good intentions,
but no way to let them
come through and be seen

Grace led me to the well
and let me drink
the tepid yet quenching water from her veins

Tell me I am only dreaming
I'll never wake up
I'll be held in comfort as I sleep

"It's okay," I tell myself

I'd tell my tongue to speak until it broke my jaw
to feel the reflection of her sunlight
on my face, again
Grace took her treasures
and closed her eyes to me
leaving the faintest but deepest scar
in their place
But my fading voice will sing
her songs, until I am no more,
even as she silently cries for me
She won't speak, but
she will still call out
She won't crawl down, though
it's far too dirty and bloody
down here where I exist
I could never blame her,
who would want to cut through clouds
and come down here when they
can feign the safety of their heaven?
I don't want to be here, either
but a fist through the mirror
didn't solve anything

This is me, at my darkest

The hunger and the thirst,
the wayward search
cripples me, inside and out

"It's going to be okay," I'll tell myself, again

My skin shrinks and my ribs are exposed
but I can't get the taste from my tongue
I would rather starve on the remains

I can look elsewhere
but the fruit cannot bear the flavor
nor can the water be so fresh

It is an acquired taste,
as am I, and
quenching our hunger was bliss

My love is
not love at all,
unless it is love to the end

"It will be okay."

So I cannot feel resentment or an affront
to know this hunger
Grace gave to me...

Well I slide through town
a still and silent mist
'till you can see right down
the killer you have kissed

And you may recall
in between the silences at home
a distant serenade
of an assassin song

We see the lights
come into view
What sacrifice
for passages through
The city sings
Lawyers and whores
Our helpless kiss
these soft and dangerous shores

On promenades
no one lives to tell
Of paradigm shifts
you know so well
The host will raise
an innocent lie
The riders asleep
Beneath a soft and dangerous sky

You see her eyes
open into frame
What sacrifice
disregards a game
As two awake
behind burning doors
You follow her thoughts
out soft and dangerous shores...

A moment of calm,
before and after.
And in between, joy.
As she crashes, watch him crash.
As she rejoices, watch him laugh.
Laughing for he knows he is owned
by her. She
forms his breath.

Well I see now she can't spell no love with letters
All at odds with these mythologies of sexual mentors
Well if she ever need a rest
From all that Dogma all undressed
On no religion I love you blessed
Never forever
Dress for the evening with such disguise
Well laying here now with your open eyes
Killing time now and time just dies

Forever
Well I'm all in open view
Wear it raw in front of you
Milk the drug and misconstrue
Well I stood all night out there
Waiting for the Ark
Gasoline all in my hair just to tempt a spark
Ain't got no hard-on like you have known
Ain't got no icon like those you been shown
All our lives or one night alone
Never forever
All our lives or one night

Never

As the party closes
I ain't got a clue
Red and yellow roses
Nipple rings and tattoos

But I never met no girl
No one, nowhere
I never met no girl,
Narcotic prayer

If I found her breathing
How could I adjust
Should I see her bleeding
Calling me in trust

But I never met no girl
No one, nowhere
I never met no girl,
Narcotic prayer...

Chance face
Loosed from what is useless in the place

I copped and caught a movie
But you know it can't last
The lights come up and I just crash...

I just crash...

Baby got a gun, how's she to know
I already see the ghosts
everywhere I go
he don't know that
I don't mind
If angry, she'll be fine
But if she cry, please don't let me know

Well I seen her with her piece today
Never missed you more
seeing you that way
The phantom around my bed
Now I'm sleeping with the dead
Baby's got a gun, I'm bound to go

Gods above and underground
While the ghosts go back and forth
through town
They wander around outside
They don't know there's nowhere to hide
Baby got a gun, I'm bound to go...

Damnit...

Just... damnit...

...and so I get to say goodbye to yet another close friend... at the hands of something they were sure they had "control" of... as so many will say... and they otherwise. I do know people that have beat it... it's not as difficult as people can make it on themselves... and they'll be the first to tell you how sad and how easy it was to get dragged into it... but I know a lot more people, anymore, who weren't able to beat it. And this time is no different then the last... I run the same gambit... I am shocked... I am angry... and then I am sad. It's so incredibly pointless, the things that people will put themselves through... chasing something they'll never catch... or chasing away something they think they can't handle. I've talked to people after things like this happen, only to watch them become the next victim. They will say I am their friend... and the things we talk about matter to them... but in the end, I am nothing to them. Nothing I think, feel or say will ever matter... no matter how much it should or I wish it did... not that I should be the one that matters... it seems they don't even matter to themselves.

So go crush up your high-test pharmaceutical synthetic heroin... sniff yourselves into oblivion... "honor" your fallen friends... sniff away your pain, your trouble... your dignity. Join your friends as maggot feed far too early... too much is never enough, right? You won't be the last... you prove it over and over and over. You watch them die and you do nothing... feel bad for the briefest of moments... and then hatch your next "brilliant" schemes to score without having to sell your neglected children.

Have you lived your entire lives without understanding the concept of consequence? You should be so lucky to have handcuffs slapped on you in your fucked up desires to not face yourselves. I'm sure it's better than being murdered for a few tiny pills... dying for an hour or two of mind-dulling that you perceive as "pleasure." You'll kill yourselves rather than stand up on your own two feet and face your troubles.

When are you going to wake up? Can you do it before it's too late? Do you even care if you do? Every time this happens, I learn... you won't... you can't... you don't.

...and so I get to say goodbye to another close friend... I'm sorry we won't get to hug after a great show, or talk about the new music I will try to make, or talk about your dream house... I'm sorry the care I had for you didn't matter, in the end... I'm sorry the last six or seven funerals we had to go to didn't change your mind... I wanted you to be around to hold my newborn son or daughter, whenever that day will come... but the care I had didn't matter... and so I have to say goodbye...

again.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

crikey

Crikey...

So... I have found myself in the middle of something at work that I really desire no part of... that place just fucking blows, anymore. Anyhow, while I was on days during the rehab of a rather painful and aggravating injury, I had the chance to strengthen relationships with some friends and make some new friends along the way. One such new friend came from hanging out with a group of people during breaks... I would find out a couple weeks into the friendship that this person actually grew up with and was, at one point, pretty close to someone I really, really care for (yes, the "her" from the labels of all these previous posts)... but that's beside the point and just one of those odd small town coincidences. Anyhow, one afternoon, I went outside for break and the new friend was there with a rather troubled expression on her face. I asked what was up and she started talking about how one of her bosses had been texting her... and went on to explain how the texts were of a pretty overtly sexual nature. About five seconds later, a text came from this guy that she then let me read... it was, again, pretty overtly sexual. The problem I saw with it was two-fold... I don't care about the actual sexuality of the texts, really, but... this guy is her boss and he is also married. I have problems with both of those issues, but moreso the latter, I guess. She seemed to be distressed/disturbed/disheveled by the texts, anyway. I told her to try not to pay it much mind and if it keeps up and you don't like it, tell him to stop. The following days brought more messages and more talking with me about what she should do about it. I told her to send him a text asking him to stop... and watched her send it. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, these questions started to creep forth... questions like... why does this girl's boss have her cell phone number? And what made this girl's boss feel that this was an appropriate way to behave towards her? I never flat out asked her how it started, but she offered the origin as something that she thought was "just a joke." Fair enough, I suppose. The following couple weeks featured a lot of talk about how these text messages had started to adversely affect her life, to the point where she had started to be "afraid" to go to work, making up odd excuses not to show up. I'm still bothered by the "where did this guy get the idea that she would enjoy or permit being messaged in this manner" thing. One night, I get a call leaving work saying she had just had a huge fight with her roommate and had moved out. So I came to where she was just to check on her, because she seemed rather beside herself, beyond the matter with the texts and such... and I would check on any friend that is under obvious duress. So, I get the vague scoop on why the fight with the roommate... and then the next half hour or so, I hear about how these two or three week-old texts are just ruining her life along with another rather lame excuse to not show up for work... to the best of my knowledge, after she sent the message asking him to stop, he stopped... he offered an apology of sorts, albeit a totally misguided one, but she apparently wasn't having any of it... which, whatever. At this point, I'm trying to be supportive, but I'm also a little leery of it all, because something's just not adding up properly. I had told her before that if it continued to be a problem for her, then she needed to consider coming forward with it to management. That night, she decided that it was time. Considering what was going on with her life, financially with the loss of work, psychologically and socially, I agreed to call one of the managers who has been a good friend of mine since childhood... I said, "You need to hear this," handed her the phone and walked away, far out of earshot... honestly, I had my fill of hearing it several times, and beyond connecting her with the proper people who could handle her work issue a hell of a lot better than me, really wanted nothing to do with it. The next day, she tells me that after talking to the big boss and HR representatives, she offered me up as a "witness" to it, all. Hoo-fucking-ray. I went straight to said bigwig and tried to figure out what my role in this mess had become. I was told that there would be no discussion about it... and I was simply told that if I wanted to write a statement in support of her claims, I could. Ummm... yeah, right... fat fucking chance. It's not that I didn't want to be supportive to my friend, but I really don't know how it all started and I didn't want a damned thing to do with any formal proceedings regarding the matter... because I really didn't have anything to offer beyond watching a couple filthy text messages being received and telling her to tell him to stop and that if she can't blow it off, she needed to do something about it... period. Write a statement? No, thanks. At that point, I had begun to have pretty serious issues as to how she got herself into it in the first place... which, however it came to be, doesn't excuse his actions in the slightest.

I'm not saying I don't believe her. I know it was happening, I saw it happening, and I saw this apparent "implosion" happening... but something about the big picture of it all is just not making sense... something's missing that's making me uncomfortable about it, all... and possibly making me into a fool... Meanwhile, all these rumors fly around that she and I are romantically involved, which... I'm sorry, but there's no way I could ever be attracted to someone like her... no offense to her, at all, but there is nothing about her that remotely resembles what could ever be described as "my type." I could get grandly specific, but... just... no... never. But it's like... even last night... I walked a girl I've known for a long time before she ever came to work there out to her car late at night and OF COURSE before the night is up, people are suggesting that there's something going on there, too... because people have nothing better to do with their pathetic lives than worry about everything besides their own business. I'm surprised that they don't start the same stuff when I walk the goofy fifty-something year-old lady to her car late at night, too. It's aggravating, but I've only ever really cared about it in one instance, and that's because something really was going on, and I don't like people talking shit about people I care about as soon as they think we can't hear (and continue to pull the two-face shit... like I can't hear, like they think I won't care that they do, and the next time they see her, they'll be all up her butt like they like her so much and don't secretly sit and talk this shit... it's really amazing to behold, the total two-facedness of these people)... Anyhow, this girl is now apparently coming to work nights... I had nothing to do with it, I even tried on several occasions to convince her otherwise... for several reasons, including a couple for my own personal benefit... it's not that I don't want her there (but I don't see it as much more than more potential crap), but that's not my decision to make... But I'm sure everyone will say I told her to come to nights... and they will think that there's something going on between us because she speaks to me... and they will think that I had something to do with that whole mess besides trying to be supportive to someone that I honestly can't decide deserves my fullest of support... and they will... continue to talk their secretive piles of shit because they can't stop themselves... they're just all secretly that fucking lame.

As for the girl... the insane-o-drama-rama needs to stop... for the best of everyone, herself included.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

32

I'm not trying to give my life meaning
by demeaning you
And I would like to state for the record
I did everything that I could do
I'm not saying that I am a saint
I just don't wanna live that way
No, I'll never be a saint...

*•*•*•*

When all is said and done,
I'm still behind you
The past has come and gone, now,
just move on through
No matter when it is you come to see
who you want to be...

*•*•*•*•*

You are the wind as you are the ground
You speak through me
and now I've found I hear you perfectly...

*•*•*•*•*

You weren't the first to hold my key
But you were the one that set me free
You were the answers to my problems and
I solved them
In this wake, everyday, I now wander
in this place where you're no longer there
Is it fate my mistakes will remain being all I have,
Don't say that it's over

What have I done,
what have I done, again?

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

had it...

I've absolutely had it... I can't take another minute of feeling this way... It's ridiculous, how much I care, and how lost I've become... It's not something I will ever just "get over.". It's just... not.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

learning

It's been really difficult... sometimes incredibly so. You give so much of yourself to someone that gave so much of themselves... You live to serve their happiness... in turn, finding that true happiness you always wanted and felt that you deserved but could never find anywhere else, in, with, within any other person. Comparing what you have with this person to what you ever had with anyone else is a joke: you would never insult them in such a way. Sharing time with them is like a dream; to know that it wasn't a dream was sheer bliss. So truly happy to have her in my life. So proud to be able to hold her hand. So amazed to have the opportunity to look into those eyes and see everything that she allowed me to see. The flaws, the fragility... anything that others might see as that which would take away from her... only enhances that which makes her so absolutely beautiful.

Having it all vanish in the blink of an eye... devastating. To pretend as if that which is still there between us never existed... soul-crushing. Given the chance to know life, only to have it ripped away... unbearable.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

control

I have lost control of... everything.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

mirror

I only see myself reflected in your eyes
so all that I believe I am essentially are lies
and everything I've hoped to be or ever thought I was
died with your belief in me so who the hell am I?
I'm wandering around confused
wondering why I try
the more that you deny my pain
the more it intensifies...
I pray for someone to ache for me the way I ache for you...
if you ignore that I'm alive
I've nothing to cling to...

I stare into this mirror
so tired of this life
if only you would speak to me or cared if I'm alive
once I swore I would die for you
but I never meant like this...

I don't know if I'm real without you
what is left of me without you?
I don't know what's real without you
How can I exist without you?

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

sleep

Will I ever get a good night's sleep, again? I'm sick and tired of spending ten hours trying to get five hours of sleep... I'm sick and tired of falling asleep, only to wake up maybe an hour later... to be stuck wide awake for another two hours. I'm sick and tired of not being comfortable trying to sleep. I didn't ask to hurt my back like this and I certainly didn't ask for the pain. I've been doing everything I'm asked to do to make it better... so why isn't it happening?

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

puzzle

Even as a little kid, I was always one to examine things closely... the world was full of riddles... and mysteries... and puzzles... and I learned early on that I had a gift for solving them. I learned that careful examination of "how," "what" and "why" would inevitably lead me to understanding... even to control... but what I didn't know - what I never could've imagined - was that one day my own life would become the most challenging puzzle of all...

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]