Tuesday, November 15, 2011


they found my body today floating along a deep and winding river. The rapids were treacherous yet lively and placid. The river tossed me about, upstream, downstream, over waterfalls and swiftly past bright green pastures as far as the eye could see. I floated past men who submersed themselves in the rivers purifying waters, in efforts to wash off yesterdays grime. I spoke with the giant willows in a language still yet foreign to me. the river, calm, yet unpredictable, stole downstream at a pace that seemed all to fast. I opened my eyes and gazed high at the scenery scattered about, as if awareness had took precident selfishly in my float for the first time. I started to breathe heavier, i started to sigh deeper and my heart began to grow heavy. No longer did I speak with the trees and float carelesly down the river, i clamorred to my mother for this and for that, as i did, the landscape grew sparse and desolate, green pastures wilted to brown and the true into the false. As my float continued i grew distracted by cities of people and machines that carried them about. these people seemed sad, misdirected and starving for simplicity, i decided to get out of the water and talk to them to see what all the commotion was about, that was the last time i ever saw my body.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

this place is fucked up

There is a sea of people. A sea of people that is shallow and fathomless in nature. we are surrounded by our enemy at every step we take. The media directs, the advertising attracts and the retailers distribute, and the cycle continues. As it does, the land of the sleeping grows in population. This world has departed from the point of perfectional origin it intended to be, no souls, no compassion and an absolute disregard for the important things in life,what are those things? Those things are nothing. You see it's not about values, eating supper with your family and watching football on sundays, its really about nothing, yes nothing. Behind the noise and hideous nature of human society lies the greatest treasure ever, that treasure is emptiness. This emptiness hides in broad daylight but is seen by few, this emptiness is easily attainable yet astonishingly difficult to find. This emptiness bears no definitive characteristics and cannot be seen by the naked eye, yet if one were to divorce himself from his eyesight he is sure to find it like a beacon of truth in the midst of a million lies. It's funny how us humans always have this ever burning desire to transcend our present circumstances, grow as a society and move toward bigger things, this ambitious nature has caused us to blatantly misunderstand the clear and simple nature of the universe. The simple truth of it all is that we are a bunch of assholes who live on a rock and have no clear or definitive answer for why we are here, thats really it in a nutshell, nothing more, nothing less. Unfortunately what branches from this simple misunderstanding is alot of theories based on ignorance, fancied delusional beliefs and an absolute innability to believe that life can be explained in such a simple manner. All these religious and historical figures like jesus, buddha, moses, muhammed and all these other assholes have one thing in common, they all have an explanation for why were all here, how it all started and where were going when we die. These guys a are just a couple run of the mill assholes selling salvation on the corner, that we all took way to seriously, but we all just want an answer, a reason for it all, no matter how far fetched it may be it helps settle my worried stupid little mind about all my questions of why, how and all that other bullshit, a false sense of security. I wonder if anyone has ever considered that there is no answer, no reason, no big bang and no hope for redemption. I wonder if anyone has ever just considered the fact that were just a bunch of stupid assholes walking arround on a rock giving significance to insignificant things all in an effort to help us understand that which is incomprehensible, maybe there just is no answer, and maybe because we have spent so much time trying to seek the unseekable, we have made our already terrible circumstances even worse. Maybe if we would focus on not worrying about what nature is, we could actually enjoy it rather than analyze it and be confused by it.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

face to face with ghosts of alex past.

today i ran into a few familiar friends; anxiety, fear and regret. I was at a gathering earlier in the evening, walked in late, plunged into my chair and let out a heavy sigh, i was exhausted, a long day at work afforded me this oppurtunity. I listened to a few friends chatter while i sat amongst the crowd in an unsuspecting fashion. Just as i got comfortable, she walked in front of the crowd and my stomach turned itself into a knot tying seminar for the nauticaly challenged. I was better than this, it's been four months and no sight of her on my radar, i start to reflect a tad in my spare time and bam! she pops up like a jehova's witness in an unwelcome fashion at my front door. Really? life has a tendency to make a fool out of you apparently, because it has spared me no unwelcome shame up unto this point in my life. So after i sat there writhing with internal agony, i made the decision to talk to her,god it was so painfull. Have you ever had one of those moments of odd conversation with people who played in important role in your life at some point?? you know, the ones where you blatantly ignore the significant ammount of emotional bondage between each other and ask instead how the wife and kids are doing etc??? what a cop out. I hate when you are faced with a truth about yourself that you have been struggling to let sink in for so long and then poof, magically it appears in your face, only to act is if you don't exist. i know thats vague but that's the only way i can articulate it. By the time we got passed the updates on family and friends, we stood there face to face with what we had danced arround the whole conversation, at this point we stare at each other and say "so....uhh...yeah, ummmm....i got to go....ummm" ya know just waiting for something to happen, but at the same time praying that it doesn't. Fuck i thought i was better than this, she tied me up in knots tonight. For the first time in alot of months i came face to face with what i have been running from, fucking from and writing away from for so long......HER. so what now, i'm supposed to forget about her right??? move on to the next??? you always remember the first untill you forget the last, right??? so is it time for me to move on??? or should i stay jaded and hibernate in a shell of bitterness and fear that i might get hurt and fuck things up again??? a wise man once said, "practice makes perfect", i can tell you i cant get much practice at relationships not being in one. So i guess i should start looking....but not looking....what a conundrum. I am so scared of that feeling, my stomach in knots, the accelerated heartbeat and the mental anguish that comes with the failure to succesfully connect with someone, i just can't go through it again, too painfull. at the end of the day, she got me thinking, she got me thinking about me. She got me thinking about why i feel the way i do and what might be the simple issue that separates me from reality and sanity. this is good, but with most things i have a tendency beat the life out of the issue untill there is nothing left to beat, then im angry, then i failed and then, again, i am lost. whether or not this may or may not happen there seems to exist a correlation between me being lost and discovering the truth. So i will lock in my safety rail keep my hands inside the seat compartment at all times and get ready for the roller coaster ride, because i know at the end i'll get off and continue my tour of the amusement park, ride the tea cups, jump in the bouncy castles and savor every moment i get running arround in this crazy, uncertain, ever eventfull, fucked up place that we call earth.....

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

i wrote a letter to a friend today

i wrote a letter to a friend today, a friend who currently sits amongst a seething cauldron of despair one which i could not even begin to fathom, my friend took someone elses life. Somewhere between midnight and 5am one night, a car carrying one passenger(my friend), rear ended another driver and sent him careening of the side of a high rise bridge into the water, this man was later pronounced dead upon impact. Imagine that you were just merrily driving along like my friend, maybe take focus off the road for a second, then in a flash your life changes forever. Immediately after all of this you are are thrown in jail for more than a year to sit with the fate of this very grave and life altering experience. No escape, no distractions, just you and the relentless agony of depression, fear and hopelesness, all of this plus an absolute uncertainty of when it will end, i could not imagine folks. I wrote a letter to a friend today, and what i wrote was not important, the only important details in all of it is that i wrote it, i care. It is extremely hard to carry much concern for anything or anyone, especially in a world where people tell you they care yet the actions they take and the way in which they carry themselves, speak to quite the contrary, fuck them. I can't blame them entirely though. In a world with gucci shoes, successful and unsuccessful, rich parents, poor parents, the privleged and underprivleged these folks are only acting according to blueprint they were given, whether these folks are to blame or not, the truth is at there disposal.The other night i went out with three, "so called friends" and kept trying to convince myself i was having a good time, but at the end of the affair the sharade was up, i hated all of these people. Talk of new diet kicks, superset chest exercises and douchebaggery filled the air and made me want to cast my my dinner into the floorboard of the car. it seems no matter how hard i try to compromise my personal integral boundaries and try to cut people some slack, i just cant seem to find anyone who i genuinely give a shit about. and the ones who i thought could possibly be somewhat tolerable wind up being, clingy, pretentious looney tunes. I can tell you that the letter i wrote today was written to a friend. someone who i fished with, got high with, laughed with and grew up with for the latter part of my life and someone i am truly concerned about, no matter how large of a gap time puts between people, it all come full circle in the end, and it seems that no matter how long or far away you get with some people, friendship never fades, it seems time is the greatest foe of relationships and for those that endure this test, these are to be cherished.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

the fall of superman......

evrything so certain yesterday, leave, go take care of the ones you love and prosper, right??? today it seems to be a much more sad and puzzling picture than what i thought it was. He is more or less delusional, lost and more insane than i could ever fathom. the man with the "S" on his chest is in a seeming freefall from the sharp cliffs of reality, and i have to say it is extremely disheartening to stand by and watch. His wife is confused and in total disarray, and understandably so, he has lost it completely. my father is a good man, he has a heart of gold and the sharp tact of a washington politician, but even the best suffer at the hands of a mind bent on self destruction. It pains me to see this unfold before my eyes, as if my life wasn't already one big bucket of confusion, i get tossed another ingredient to go into my newest recipe of impending neurosis. man this is a strange fucking life and it all makes no sense, i realize part of life is to grow old and watch the ones you love fall to pieces while trying to keep it together yourself,but now? what a balancing act. But to be realistic, i knew all of this was coming long before i decided to act like i didn't. My family, my father and my puzzling existence all just kind of confirm the imminent for the most part, and it's sad and it sucks, and i kind of want to go to a little known aboriginal village in brazil and not surface for many years,but thats just too much work. fuck life is exhausting, but we play with the hand were dealt, like it or not, this is reality and it must be embraced. so needless to say i want to jump on a plane and fly far, far away from the rest of the world and find a safe haven in the arms of a 5'5 ish to 5'10ish brunette who will stroke my head and tell my stupid little ass, "it's gonna be ok". So i think i might leave soon, go see some new people and discover the same people exist everywhere. maybe watch dreams of little brunettes dancing in my head crumble as i realize my frustrations are an extention of a bigger problem i'm trying to escape. that problem my friends, is reality, what a bitch. nonetheless sometimes i just wish i had someone i can actually stand, by my side going through this together with me, that person was my dad. but now it seems my dream team in the arena of life is slowly dwindling down to me. i'm slowly losing my father, and i think for good...but in the end, i have been used to being on my own team facing the world on my own accord, for thats what i do best, i guess...so other than the obvious deterioration of my superhero's physical and mental condition, the song remains the same....confusion, intrigue, frustration and an ever puzzling feeling i have looking at the world arround me...whatever, right??? mozoltov! very fitting considering it is the jewish new year, which is great but i wish i could be celebrating the holiday i like to call "alex gets a new life, family and friends that actually mean something to him"....oh well theres always next year right??? everyone have a wonderfull day.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

something i wrote awhile ago...found it today on my comp and thought, why not post it?

What do we do when were lonely? Do we call a friend to share our discomfort? Do we reluctantly make ourselves busy with insignificant tasks to take our mind off reality?? When it comes to loneliness we have tons of options, things we can do to substitute our feeling of misery for a sense of purposeful belonging, so should we act on them? It seems to me that the reality of a lonely existence is quite possibly one of the toughest realities to accept. If I think about the times I have experienced loneliness I never remember looking eye to eye with this troubling foe, ready to experience all it has to offer. There are times in my life when loneliness does not define strongly enough, my emotions. When I am alone with this demon, it seems as if I am a man a world apart from the species that surround me, almost as if I am static energy floating amongst a bright vivid mass that I have no place in. I find it funny how most people can connect with the world around them, intermingle socially, partake enthusiastically and tolerate others with seeming flawlessness, it absolutely amazes me, honestly it makes me jealous. There are times when I look up to the sky and ask god what I’m supposed to do in this jacked up crazy fucking world, and I never get any closer to finding an answer. Like when I am trying to write and my roommates talk as if miles separate us, it fucking pains me. Loneliness is a feeling to be embraced, such as happiness, joy etc. It is a tremendous feat to embrace loneliness, for to embrace loneliness is to embrace the lack of control we have over our feelings, out true dilemma in power. To embrace loneliness is not to run from it, not to do house chores to avoid it’s dismal consequences, or to call our friends as human shields to deflect its inescapable ammunition. No, to embrace loneliness is to comprehend the futility of our own perspective, to understand and familiarize ourselves with our worst demons, it is to understand we must face our loneliness toe to toe.

Friday, September 30, 2011

blahdy blah blah, weekend time.

I'm off to do the, "ole formal rendevous", a man meets woman situation of sorts. The situation, a silly improv show at a second rate comedy joint downtown,excited? not really, just more or less happy that i have something to do on a friday night other than look forward to another grueling weekend of work. You see i have this weekend off which is great, this means my saturday and sunday's will be free of directing a bunch of emotionally disruptive people who don't know there head from there ass, this is great. I am looking forward to this weekend. with the smell of football and cooler weather in the air, this two day workless affair looks promising. I am thinking it will be jumbled with; naps, lounging and pleanty of sweatpant wearing, crotch grabbing excelence, awwwwww freedom. i hope to get some writing done on my so called "book" that i have failed to work on for the latter part of a few weeks now. it is important for me to remember that the weekends are short and it will be over before i realize it's here, i just hope i remember to enjoy it, with such a tough week thats passed at work i feel it will be necessary to mantain my sanity, what little i have anyway. tommorow i plan to wake up whenever i feel like it, do some laundry and escape my life through some new albums i just bought at the record store, cant wait. and once thats all done it'll be time to watch some oregon ducks football, and cook myself a fat meal and tell everyone to F off, after of course i pick up my anniversary chip. So i'm off to go get it started late this evening, hopefully this will be the first step in the commencement of a great and duty-free weekend.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

i am a hopeless romantic, shoot me please

Im such a hopeless romantic, it's really kind of nauseating. I lay back in my bed and can't help but think of what an overwhelming desire i have to find someone that i can love and live with for the rest of my life, what a bunch of horseshit. I feel that the only action appropriate to undertake next is to grab a box of tissues, pull up a chair and watch a couple of hearfelt seasons of gossip girl.what a bunch of shit. So now that i have come to the realization that i'm actually a hopless romantic pussy, i am also kind of sad to, for with most realizations of the vaginal kind, sadness comes as an added perk.I never thought that i would fall victim to this whole whimsical sort of idea of soul mates, and all that other drab, primetime television bullshit, but apparently "CBS CARES" made quite the impression on me and here i sit with an overwhelming desire for female life partnership. that is really all i felt a need to write tonight, probably my shortest rant ever, but a rant nonetheless. at the end of the day, everyone wants someone to miss,someone to worry about and care about, but seldom do people find the right combination of crazy that makes it all last. I think i've come to a point in my life where i need more than just a warm body.

Monday, September 26, 2011

" I cant sleep, and a TLC song is stuck in my head"

"It's just of them thangs that a girl goes through", the immortal words of an early 90's TLC song sum up my night quite eloquontly(fuck i cant spell that word). While i lay here in my bed tossing and turning trying to dictate different outcomes for the universe, i couldn't help but think how that song would make a clever little intro to my blog. It seems that "One of them thangs" i am currently battling is the innability to sleep. My innability to slumber has not been to much of a reoccuring issue as of late, which makes it harder for me to deal with. First off i closed the store tonight, which put me out the door somewhere north of 11:00 P.M. After i closed the store i took my usual 20-30 minute stroll down hwy 17 to get home at arround 11:45. If any of you folks know it is generally hard to get off work and immediately pass out into an unconscious "log like" slumber. Generally when you get home late and work late there are a few token things that work against your every move towards a deep, and restfull night in the sack, Number one being your metabollic rate. You see when one runs arround at work completing numerous tasks and utilizing energy, ones awareness and physical prowess heighten just a bit, making it very tough to settle down imediately after completing your last task off the laundry list. Reason number two is the ever active neurotic brain of a confused, young and crazy young adult( and i'm not talking about me! HA!) With an ever burning desire to think to much and an ego that wont quit. this ones brain tends to have little mercy on his tired and frustrated body, needless to say my body is not on speaking terms with my mind at the moment, in fact my body has asked my mind to sleep on the couch tonight and take his nonsense to the living room. With that being said i have a mind full of crap that is dying to put something on the internet, coupled with a strong desire to get back into bed and on speaking terms with the other half, and i got to tell ya, the body is not to thrilled with the mind at the moment. So, i get home from work tonight and jump on "The book", check my e-mail as usual and i see i have a message from a former high school love hostage, and the wheels start turning (and if you end up reading this, I'm sorry this is the honesty hour, apprehensives beware!) you see i wrote this blog last night that kind of gave a rough overview of my struggles as an adolescent and it was a heartfelt metaphorical type of write, with alot of emotion tied into it. With that being said the time period in which it was written, involved this young lady indirectly. So, i get home read my e-mail and she kinda tells me whats going on with her; new job etc. and in a roundabout way is like, Dude come out here to visit. this lit a flame that ignited a blazing phsychotic revolution in my brain,kinda like most things really. Nonetheless, i started thinking that i would really love to go out there and visit ya know, see her, see some family (the ones i can still fathom talking to) and maybe make up for a little of my douchey streak in highschool. My douchey streak in high school, was pretty much as douchey as you can get, ya know; lying about insignificant things, lots of drugs, angry at the world, woe is me and all the other particulars that go along with being a severely handicapped emotional individual. amongst all the chatter in my brain about visiting this girl, i had to think about the fact that i plan to visit with my father sometime before christmas, and how was i going to schedule it all and if i wait to long she'll probably get the whole "Open door is now closed policy" thing going on and i'll be an afterthought. so many things to consider with so little time, what the fuck?? It upsets me that my brain always picks the most inopurtune times to think of all this shit, what an asshole. If my brain was a person it would have no friends, because it would be a straight up douche, whatever. and amongst other things, one of my most highly regarded "bretheren in blog" commented on my blog today, and his comment consisted of a short, sweet, yet lethal combination of words that no writer wants to hear. He said, "I missed the whole theme here on this one, not really sure what it meant" but he followed his harsh words up with a politicaly correct, "But i'm a blockhead reader, so it might have been me". I think that when someone tells the truth and then softens the blow with the ole "It's not you it's me", sort of bit, it can be more disheartening. I felt like i was on the bad end of a break-up of sorts. I was left thinking that he really wanted to tell me that my blog was a big messy, wallowy emotional quagmire filled with inconcistency. if he would have left a comment like that, i would have been like, "Yeah Man! my blog sucks ass!! and your totally right!". Frankly, now i'm a tad scared that i will get a good ole thrashing at the hands of these blogworld juggernauts! Avast! i stand ready for battle, For the pen is mightier than the sword!!! (stupid cliche reference, Check!)I'm probably going to take a licking for this one, but maybe not, these gentleman can appreciate objective humor, although everything changes for the human being when the ego is challenged, fuck it. i just don't want to end up like that asshole "Njunta" or some shit, this guy got a knock on his door, a fist through the face and a pretty severe MSpaint asswhoopin'. At any rate Thanks for softening the blow guys!!! and i quite enjoyed your blog about the food network today, i'm whipping up some fried pigeon as we speak, with a touch of post embriotic garnish of my own. Anyways i think that's it for now, i hope i can sleep, if not then i'll be back for round two of rutheless rants regarding my stupid little existence, after all, "it's just one of them thangs, That a girl goes through".

Saturday, September 24, 2011

"the man without a face"

a man was born yesterday without a face, no identifying characteristics except pain. He walked among the other folks in the world without identity. Faceless, no one could identify who or what he was, it was impossible. They told him that he had a name and that he would live up to this alias prescribed him at birth, he believed them, but being faceless he realized it impossible to live amongst the others, because they could not see him. During his younger years he remembered being on the playground amongst the other children trying to mingle with them the best he could, but it was as if he could not identify with any of the other children, he was alone. As he grew he saw the other children grow into there enviornment. The kids played soccer, football and took after school karate, he did none of this, for he did not understand nor find any joy in this whatsoever. This feeling only furthered this faceless childs disconnection with the others, yet he was not done trying. After school he would race down to the other end of the cul-de-sac to try and join in with the other children who played touch football and made mischief throughout the neighborhood. He played and played and played in an almost passionate fashion, he played so hard that some of the other kids wondered if there was something wrong with this faceless child who would not go home long after the street lights came on. The parents would walk out into the long winding end of their driveways and beckon their children home, they would go, but the faceless child would stay, he would stay in hopes that someone would see him playing and come out to join him, but they all stayed in. He stood in the the dark streets playing even harder, hoping someone would come and rescue him from his isle of confusion and distress, Noone came, and there he stood whistling in the dark hoping against hope. As this faceless child grew older he grew more desperate, he knew that somehow someway he would be able to break out of his faceless nature, he would find identity. He grew into his teenage years and started drinking heavily, long lonely nights in his grandmothers basement tortured with confounding confusion and depression, he could only pray the hairs on his head would give easily because he had no choice but to pull them out, in hopes to possibly thin out the barrier between him and his troubled mind. he looked at pictures of his father and his mother and could not help but be so confused as to why they had to concieve him, for he felt there was no real purpose for him on earth. He cried and laid in his basement dwelling with no one at all aware of the pain and anguish his mind made victim of him every night of his life. He knew he could not escape, so he drank, and drank and smoked pot untill his body forced him to pass out, he wanted it all to be over. He woke up again the next day, same reality but yet again he checked the mirror just in case he could make out a face staring back at him, nothing, more drugs. This child was lost, walking arround an endless sea of existence in which he could not give meaning to. He gets home from another trying day at school, takes 27 asprin and starts chugging tequila hoping that his stomach would rupture from the combination of enteric coating and alcohol. Bold, significant warning labels on the bottle told him this would happen. He turned off the lights and dressed up in his nicest clothes and put a picture of his mother and father in his pocket, he was ready to die, or just ready for something else other than this life he seemed sentenced to. He cried his eyes out uncontrollably chanting, "I wanna die, I wanna die", in a tearfull dribbly voice. He thought about his father who he had not had a relationship with in years and pondered his poor mother who had little else to live for except to just make sure her kids had a mother. Then he thought about how he would never be able to see who attended his funeral, but then again he knew that a faceless man without identity didn't really draw a crowd at the funeral home, this selfish thought saved him. He sprung from the couch and ran to the bathroom and purged the toxic solution out of his stomach. It floored him how much he really wanted to die, he couldn't believe it, he had always fantacised about it in the past but never actually went as far as trying to execute it. How is a kid with all this shit going on supposed to go back to school the next day? not sure, but he did. Fresh off a suicide attempt he started his day in weight training class with all the people he despised, the confident ones, the ones who seemed to float through life with ease, the ones who could not recognize his face. He walked laps arround the school so he did not settle to long in one spot. For he knew he could not relate to anyone nor could they him, he just wanted a place to sit down, someone to talk to, but he never found it. Perpetually troubled by his confusing and melancholy existence, he could often be seen sitting alone in the cafateria, praying someone would join him, but they never came, instead he was met with ridicule and rutheless criticism. There were times when this faceless child would sit alone and cry because he knew no one could rescue him, but yet he knew deep down that no one could save him if they did not see him. This faceless man still wanders through life, still confused but with the confusion comes periods of lucid clarity where he can see peace and happiness in his own life, and more importantly, in the lives of others. This man walks amongst us today, not only does he walk amongst us, but he can easily be recognized. One morning this man woke up from a deep slumber that lasted his whole life, a slumber which he realized he could never wake himself from, a slumber which god could only lift from his tired soul, He looked in the mirror and he smiled, He had a face, and it was beautifull.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Part 3 "Let there be religion", The adventures of Mr. Mammoth skin

sad and guilt ridden by his own handy work, Mr. mammoth skin could not bring himself to venture out of his cave. Mr. mammothskin looked down at duke and told him to "get the fuck out of his cave", "go be with your family asshole, you spend so much time trying to steal my fortunes, you miss out on the ones right in front of you!". Mr mammothskin could probably afford to take his own advice. Reason number one being,the demise of his innovation that transformed mankind,it was great,sure, but when you squander gifts in an endless sea of temporary satisfaction, victory is shortlived. Amongst other things, Mr mammothskin also gave mankind another innovation. This attitude patented by Mr. mammothskin would plague mankind for endless years. But Mr. Mammoth skin was ignorant and unaware of much aside from himself, because of this his unsuspecting behavior showed few signs of spreading, after all it's hard to see the truth when you cant see past the lies that entrap every waking moment of your existence. "He meant no harm", little did he know this little phrase he used all to often would become the basis of human dishonesty for the ladder part of history. Feeling the need to take his own advice and troubled by the obvious pickle he jammed himself in between, he did something odd. Mr. Mammothskin in an obviously desperate state dropped to his knees and begged for mercy. he spoke to noone directly but he looked up at the sky as if some great rain would fall to cast relief upon his weary soul, Mr. mammothskin felt relief. Mr Mammothskin, for the first time in days emerged from his cave, free and able to look the world in the eye, for he had to, a whole legion of people looked to him for leadership. With his new found resolve Mr mammothskin set out to do something amazing, proclaiming it in honor of the entity in the sky that freed him from his sorrow. what the world saw next was yet another revolutionary change that set the world ablaze. A blaze that burned hotter than the first time one ambitious neandrathal asshole started a fire.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The adventures of Mr. mammoth skin part deux.

He woke up one morning in a daze, with all the intense partying and gratuitous drug use and over the top antics, it seemed this mammoth skinned asshole payed a price. The mammoth skinned asshole stumbled out towards the opening of his cave and stared down at the landscape that had sprung up arround him. Below a couple levels were some of his top paying execs. who made just enough money to smell the stench of booze and vagina radiating out of his ever lively dwelling place, they were close enough to dream. and down another level lie the factory managers, quality assurance guy's, and salesman, always looking up waiting for one of those top level execs. to fall so they could get one step closer to smelling the top. Below these salesman and Q.I. assholes lived the workers. These workers, the Mechanics, the laborers, the cleaners and the wheel techs, well, they wanted none of what these salesman, Q.I. guys and execs had, no, they were more concerned about taking care of their family and enjoying what they had than anything else. One could say they had what they wanted, and wanted what they had. The mammoth skinned asshole looked down from atop the hill at all these folks and saw a disgusting, awfull existence, that he was very well responsible for. He looked arround his cave, the strippers, g-strings, the booze, Had he gone to far? before he could ponder an honest rebuttal to his own question, he looked down to find one of his execs. pawing at his feet. This fellow was an overly ambitious and cunning little bastard, he was the type that would sing sweet tunes to your face but conduct a quiet rendition of caeser behind your back, "Ey tu Brute?". at any rate this asshole named duke was just laying in wait for mr. mammoth skins' sorry ass to die. at night he would pray for the death of mr. mammoth skin only for the benefit of his own realizations of being rich and powerfull. Mr. mammoth skinned gazed upon him in a guilt ridden sort of way, "I did this to you", "what", Duke said...."I Did this to you". " I mean look at you, the only thing you haven't done not to gain my approval is give me blowjobs, and i'm not 100% sure that you haven't done that while i slumber. I Mean come on man, you treat me like a god yet you curse my existence when my eyes are diverted elsewhere, your a disgustingly greedy and selfish animal, and I Mr. mammoth skin have created you!!!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Adventures of Mr. Mammoth skin ( a short story to be continued)

a distinct feeling of seperation, we talked about; religion, philosophy and all the other unsure mythology us humans have interpreted out of life. She brought up that uncomfortable topic of discussion that makes me cringe. I cringe for fear that i will be like all the other wonderfull folks out there who spew there ignorant beliefs all over people to give justification to their own nonsense. I have a problem talking about faith, about god and about the analysis of the human mind. Nothing in this world is sure, and nothing we know is at all ceratin, it all originates from one little mammoth skinned asshole with one big idea to change the world.

at the beggining of time some asshole with a club and a mammoth skinned smock decided that it would be a good idea to build some fire. a little later on he decided that fire was not good enough, though enchanted with the fire itself, the asshole decides that he is bored and must find some sort of way to transcend his present circumstances. A wheel he thought! if i could find some sort of contraption to aid in the transport of my goods i could set out across the landscape and diversify. Maybe i can grow a business, maybe i can tax what i sell and maybe, just maybe everyone else will be stupid enough to humor my pitch. everyone in this assholes world worked hard, they had to, with no way of making there inevitable grind easier, they accepted their fate and did what they had to do, for they knew no other way. With news of the wheel and transportation spreading like "wildfire"(a pun) demand for this contraption grew exponentially. when the mammoth skinned asshole started out he fashioned just enough wheel to pull a small primitive archaic like wagon to move small things arround the house, or cave, the mammoth skinned asshole never imagined in all his wildest dreams that news of his invention would be so popular. He started meeting with representatives who did purchasing and product research for other tribes, he quickly grew business relationships across the vast uncharted landscape. Wealthy and now highly respected throughout the community, this mammoth skinned asshole was living large. He was jocking the bitches and slapping the hoes, one would say he was keeping his "pimp club strong". naturally like anyone this mammoth skinned asshole grew accustomed to his new way of life and became quite bored, this asshole resolved that a new idea was necessary, one that would make me even more powerfull and stronger than ever before. "I got it!" it came to him one morning in his eloquantly decorated cave/ bungalow. he pulled back on a nice hot cup of coffee when he thought, I know! i will generate money by objectifying peoples needs for what i make! they don't really need it of course, they got along fine without it before, but if i make them believe that they are hopeless without my wheel, they'll pay whatever i want them to! this asshole had struck gold! and the world was about to witness the first fruits of; Greed, ambition, power and manipulation. little did this asshole know that what he dreamed up that day would change the face of mankind forever.........To be continued.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Mr. aquanet and a boring day at the ranch

Here i am, sitting in my gay little bedroom that smells of mop and glow with a mixture of febreeze, thinking about how broke i am and how i want to stop staring at these four walls for fear that my eyes will burn with their pixilated imagery.(AND I JUST RAN OUT OF BREATH,and you, probably patience)These past couple of weeks have been rather tough. I started a new job, i'm broke and i have no gas to go anywhere. with that being said i am stuck in my house with nothing to do except; clean, stare at the walls, eat and masterbate, because an asshole like me seldom get's laid and it doesn't help that you don't have the gas, or patience to make it happen in the first place. and for god sakes folks you can only rub one out so many times in a day before your penis is like dude, "give me a break, don't you realize you might actually need me for something else one day, a little privacy please, and besides my foreskin is not on speaking terms with you right now!". sorry penis! so after overexhausting all of my options for mental escape i opted to blog, and read other intriguing blogs. this was of course hard, for fear that i might take up time from my other plans of doing nothing, whatever! who cares. amongst other things today, i dusted my room and talked to my arrogant douchey roomate for about five minutes. I spoke to him in hopes that he could relate to my sitiuation, so i played the poor me card, and he quickly turned his attention back to his ego. He talked about how he sold a bunch of stuff at work today,what a dick. whatever. my roomate is quite funny, if anyone of you can picture the prototypical sleezy car salesman, he fits this bill quite elequantly. Eight pounds of aquanet, a head that struggles to fit through most doorways and a car that costs more than his place of residence, i think this does him justice. at any rate, he hops from girl to match.com girl, in hopes that his binaca and cheap armani knockoff cologne will help him land the next big fish. he really is a fucking riot. he comes home about twice a week, and picks up his forgotten can of aquanet, and then out the door he goes to find the next best thing. Me and my buddy joke that "it's nice of him to stop by the storage unit every once in awhile". we really have a blast harping on this guy, it helps to keep the focus off of our own miserable lives. amongst other things i am off of work today and i'm not sure if i am thrilled about it or not, don't get me wrong,i love my solitude, but being stuck in your house with out any option of leaving is kind of a helpless feeling. the only thing that could be worse is being locked in a a small place with my roomate, while he talks about how he sells alot of stuff and how it takes two cans of aquanet to set his hair straight in the morning. fuck man, my eyes are hurting, i am sure that there are precautionary statements about looking at computers for this long, but frankly i don't know what the fuck else to do.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

why she never called, my story telling adventure and a ridiculous poetic conclusion.

so i figured out why she never called. The black jokes and the glaring signs of racial profiling definetely had something to do with it. at about 2:00 yesterday i sat in my living room perusing through facebook archives, looking at peoples pictures when i connected the dots. I clicked on her pictures and saw her son she had mentioned, he was part black. Oh my fucking god i said, thats why she never called! you see i had coffee with this girl while out of town and i thought things went very well, we chatted and joked, i even wrote a fucking blog, and i didn't just write a blog, but my blog was distinctly about how well my night went with her. Im pretty sure i said something to the effect of, "gee that was a nice night". i am an idiot. if some of you don't know be by now, i have this tendency to put my foot in my mouth and say things that are offensive without even knowing it, in laymen's terms, i am an asshole. so, with that being said when i was having coffee and a so called wonderfull night with this girl, i made a few harmless black jokes. i proceeded to say that one of the girls we both knew probably fucked half the black population in carteret county by now and how i felt uncomfortable at one of her birthday parties because every other person i met was named pookie or tayshaun. and to add to my overflowing cauldron of apparent racial discontention, i mentioned that i hated gangster rap and so on and so forth, it just got worse. I fucked up big time, shit! as we grew deeper into conversation i look back and connect the dots and see the very quiet and shy demeanor i described in my blog had something to do with the slight tinge of racism i was spitting out of my ignorant little lips. all the while not knowing that she ironically had a black baby. i am such a dick folks. if any prestigious university in the united states or abroad had a course of study on "how to be an asshole, while balancing one legged for fear of letting the other foot fall out of your mouth", i would teach that shit, phd the whole fucking nine, don't let the humor steer you away from the sad unproud feeling i have about this. i just find it unbelievable how one guy can singlehandidly make so many serious social mistakes in one lifetime. let's face it, i'm just not that good at this game, the social, and game of life alike. I am a grade "A" flunkie and oddly enough, i take pride in this. Somebody needs to lock my ass up. so after a few day's of delayed response from this girl and the realization that she had a black baby, the dots connected and the stars alligned and yet again my devilish ways got the best of me. amongst other things, i told my personal story of sadness, triumph and redemption to a group of folks who had the unfortunate pleasure of listening to me speak for an hour today, god bless em'. fortunately for me i do not think of them had black babies so my story caused no conflict. i hope. anyway i told my life story to these folks today; honest, naked, open and free, it felt wonderfull. I think that there is no feeling like being amongst a group of people who collectively saw hell and the roads that followed on there journey back, a comraderie and gratitude that is hard to express in my own meer mortal words. i had moments where i felt stripped of my fear and told these people things that i wouldn't write home about, and if i did write home, it would be the last letter i'd ever written, if you get my drift. so, people thanked me and commended me for my honesty and told me that i was a great inspiration and yadda fucking yadda. i don't accept compliments very well. it is hard to accept a compliment on actions that you were in no way shape or form responsible for in the first place, i'm trying to live honest these day's. with that being said, i am so gratefull to that power which has transformed my life and for the first time ever i took absolutely no credit for the words that came out of my mouth, miraculous. god i had to write tonight, my head had an agenda to fill if i didn't. and generally that agenda isn't some pretty little day planner in a leather case, it's a fucking sopping wet bonfire burned, stepped on, cruel book of petry on how to fuck up alex's life. so, with that being said alex will not be fufilling the plans on his minds agenda, hence the reason i produced this filterless offensive chaulked full of goodies asshole rant before you. i think they call that "saving our own skin, at anothers expense". i'm sorry to you folks i mentioned but, sadly people actually like to read this bullshit and a certain entertainment value needs to be relavant for that to continue. so goodnight world, good night moon and goodnight all you assholes who are half fucking loon, untill the sunrises our parting will be all too soon! and i write poetry ( thank you chilhood reading material for the inspiration) seriously though, i'm going to sleep.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

this blog saves my ass...and a thank you.

I wake up unto the world this morning without the sincere desire to write, this confuses me. i feel like a man who has been thrown into an abandoned grain silho with a blind fold on and told to find his way out. an odd analagous way to express my current state of plunder, but fitting nonetheless. i am scared to death. I am scared to death that my new job will overshadow my passion for writing, and my dreams of artistic grandjeur will be left by the wayside, i suppose time will tell and prioritizing will be key. I have not worked on my buddy mitch in about two weeks, not a single word, this concerns me. I see that it will be necessary to discover why this is, maybe because it was inspired by a t.v. show i was obsessed with at the time and i feel pretentious, or on the contrary, i could be lazy. it seems i have to many tennis balls in the air this morning, and not enough time to decide whether i want to further my delusional balancing of these non-existent issues in my life. i'm so fucking confused, it hurts my brain and strains my body, this makes it tough to get arround. why can't i just jump off the cliff and fall headfirst into my passion and start producing the fruits of a sincere desire to share with the world, i don't know, still too many walls, the story of my life. i know that i have this weekend to be free of work stress and fictional issues i create to stay busy with dissatisfaction. so, maybe, just maybe, i can get some work done. I can draw one positive from this cauldron of confusion, and that is that i am blogging, which is a good start but with most and all things,it's not good enough for this guy! i am sincerely happy that i have a place where i can vent my innermost conflictions, this blog saves my ass, it really does. If i didn't get these thoughts out of my head in some form or fashion it would be a struggle of exponential proportions to gather the guster to live most days. i sincerely thank the folks who push me to write and tell me that this javascript dribble is worth reading. and here it is....the sigh....the relief....this thing called writing saves my life, something about pen to paper that is therapeutic for the troubled soul. now before i get carried away on a mushy feel good rant, i must remind you that i have no shortage of; cynicism, annoyance and frustration, after all i have a reputation to live up to!!.....so fuck off folks!!! and i hope the rest of your day is spent contemplating how silly and fancy free your little delusional lives are! sincerely, the truth.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

ghosts of places past, friends and mentors that crossed paths with again here in morehead....

tonight was odd. tonight i met with two people from my past that played equally opposite roles in my life, one a father figure, the other a middle school first kiss. i walked into a "wings" today, and for those of you who are not familiar with "wings" it is a shitty beach store with a plan to take over the world, well the touristy beach world anyway. at any rate i walked into this shitty store today with my boss, who came in hopes of finding a cheesy onsie for his granddaughter that probably said something to the effect of, "my parents obviously hate me because they bought me this gay onsie". with all opinions of attire aside, i was not excited to be there, but neither did i expect to find what i found there. i tooled arround this horrible beach store and looked at all the awfully overexagerated tourist gear; pink, lime green, stupid trinkets made in china etc. and i couldn't help but contemplate how much it sucked to be in this place. (hopefully i got my point across). nevertheless i walked arround and read stupid t-shirts with catchy one liners, ya know like the ones that say, "Ladies love the cock" and below the clever inscription is a rooster, or cock,so clever, not really. so after reading this my anxiety to leave doubled when i caught the eye of a tall russian girl who stood inconspicuosly by the changing rooms, i traded eyes a few times and convinced myself that i should relax and maybe read some more awesome shirts. by this time all of my co-workers were standing arround pointing at the t-shirts like a bunch of douchey looky loo's who obviously hadn't a nodding aquiantence with creativity whatsoever, "ooohh that ones cool,it says i am an alcoholic simpleton, who never grew up! i want that one!" jesus, i thought, please help me, and them! i wandered slowly away from them and made my way into a middle aisle where a familiar face caught my eye, realizing my worst fears were confirmed(i ran into someone from high school), i had to say something, i was to desperate for a companion at this point who was not gauking over shirts that basically said i'm a giant douchebag across them, and she was the escape i was looking for(and yes i said she).i looked at her with a crooked face, i could tell she was uncomfortable and she didn't recognize me, which only compounded my nervousness. but lucky for me i am an expert at looking like a cool, confident, in control type of guy(bullshit). so what i really did was stumble over my words a few times and cracked stupid jokes untill i saw a smile crack, then i knew i could breathe. she was pretty, no doubt, it was obvious that alot had changed since middle school, she was a woman and i liked that. after the awkwardness subsided a bit, we tried to connect the dots between us and the past, it helped that she was nervous too, it helped me feel a little more human. i asked her what she was doing tonight and she said nothing, which was great because i was in need of a break from the douchey t-shirt club, we exchanged numbers and we walked out. i felt great. it has been three days in this shithole and nothing cool has happened, then she came along and flipped it. i remember her being a loud and outspoken confident girl when we were younger but when we sat outside for coffee i saw a completely different woman. she was simple, relaxed and very carefree, she was real. after my fassad wore down i couldn't help but think how attracted to this girl i actually was, she was gorgeous, a beautiful face and a smile that could light up a room, if she would only let it. we shared a quick kiss goodnight and i was on my marry way, i feel like such a nancy because at one point i remember stopping and taking a breath and thinking about how nice and wonderfully nostalgic it all was, i had a goodnight. amongst other things i had the oppurtunity to meet with a man who played in integral part of my life at one point, this was great. this man did alot for me and i am forever indebted to him for all he put into trying to help me, i am so glad i saw you, and as it was before, he remains a great man. i had a wonderfull evening, my only wish is that i could have enjoyed it longer and had more awareness to appreciate the beauty of it all. a nice girl, a great influential man and the ability to express my innermost thoughts on a javascript, as they say in mastercard commercials, priceless. thank you morehead city, it seems that a shithole like this is is capable of making a shit head like me happy.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

shitty hotel, work...and returning to a place of past fuck ups....

i sit here in this very lonely and desolate holiday inn, with unnatractive desk assistants and annoying work associates,i cant help but feel trapped. i am not used to spending time out of town, and i am definetly not used to spending days on end with people i work with out of town, this is not my ideal situation. moments ago i sat in a hotel room with three dudes, (most of them people i could not stand being seen in public with)talking about how much they like this person and how much they dislike this person, yadda fucking yadda. all i could do for most of the day is try to contrive some sort of escape from these creatures who i am seemingly stuck with for the next three days. i could not find an escape, this was discouraging. the next three days i will work with these people, sleep with these people and eat with these people and frankly i am not to excited about partaking in any of theses three activities, with these people. most people who "really know me" which is few, and that includes myself, know that i cant stand being arround people for elongated periods of time, i'm just a machine not built for this kind of work. most of the time it is important for the sake of myself and for the sake of others that i have some sort of escape route readily available, if i don't, things could get ugly. amongst other things i found myself ennamered with the fact that i'm on this "business trip" (god that makes me feel so fucking important) i am a new man that has ventured into his old stomping grounds, it almost seems i have something to prove, a new flag i must plant in the ruins of my sordid past. I must fuck everything that moves, conquest every aspect of coolness and run for governor before i leave. if i don't i feel it would be a total loss. it's funny when you go back to a place where you were such a big loser in your past life, and now refreshed with a new attitude you must prove to everyone else and yourself included, that you are now "the shit". look, to be honest i am feeling quite uninspired to write these evening, i feel like i am almost writing for the sake of getting words out of my head. i sit here in this shitty hotel writing in a shitty lobby and i look back over the past few lines and start to realize that i should stop writing out of fear that the rest of what i write will be a bunch of manufactured bullshit that is written for the sake that i can say i wrote something. this is sad but i must write good or bad, because i must acclimate myself more with writing the truth even when it does not flow naturally from my fingertips. i have so many walls that block me off from the truth. it seems that i discover another one each time i write, some sort of obstruction that keeps me from tapping into the honest, uninhibited nature that propels the meaning behind every word i write. i want to get out of this shitty place, i don't like the people and i don't want to be here. one thing that i have noticed is how much i truly miss home, i want to be in charleston. this is odd considering that i ran recklessly away from every place i tried to make home. coming back to this place makes me realize how fortunate i was to get shipped out of here in a reluctant fashion. and yes i mean reluctantly as in, family intervention, drug rehab, etc. at any rate, it was as if i expected a grand homecoming, i expected everyone to see my business shirt wearing pleated pants'd ass and drop to there knees in worship! because you see before i left this place, i had broken into several homes, stolen money from "so called friends" and ate vicodin untill my face fell off. so, what gives? i am a walking lazarus act! why is noone impressed? i am so fucking neurotic, its sad. there is a reason i left this place and it seems that my visit here has somewhat reinforced that fact. i am not excited, not overjoyed nor do i wish to return here after my lovely visit. this place is a shithole, bad memories, bad people and a whole lot of things that i care little about dredging up. i lost myself here and it seems that returning here has unlocked the reason why i left in the first place, to find myself.

Sunday, August 28, 2011


i seem to be lost this time, really lost. i never felt apart of the wagon,i was never one for primitive uncomfortable, early pioneer types of transport, nor was i ever big on doing what was popular, i tried and it never worked for me. i've fell off big time now though, if i once thought that i was alone in this world at some point, that feeling is left in the dust and has been replaced with a complete disconnect between me and everyone else. i am not special, nor am i any better than most, but it seems that my very acknowledgement of that fact sets me apart from the status quo, i don't enjoy it out here,it gets lonely. i have completely stripped myself down to bare bone and soul only to find that this bare uninhibited nature only make my interactions that much more strange. i am not equipped to handle this world like everyone else is, i missed the bus, was late for school and i never graduated, because of this, i stand alone most days. at the same time by virtue of my complete and utter innability to embrace this world that everyone so seemingly did with ease, i found myself. i've found that i belong in the shadows, i cannot handle being in the spotlight of anyones perception,channels are broken, lines of communication are all but open. someday this mellowdramtic man who writes these disgustingly depressing dittie's will find someone in which he can share his deepest posessions, his mind, body and somewhat delapedated soul with, be it man or woman, friend or not i will cease to be lonely on this planet. the divine realm exists, i have no doubt of this in my heart, but what i do doubt is the existence of the divine realm amongst the realm of the sleeping. i will continue to stagger and stumble through this life with one purpose in mind and that purpose is to see god, anything else in the meantime will be dealt with accordingly. for friends and enemies i must care little of whether i make them or not, for they are distractions intended to steal my focus away from the instructions. i am tired of trying to make sense of this world. these people, this place and myself have no logical or reasonable explanation, and my belief is that they will cease to untill my purpose is shifted away from these distractions. i find some that seem to understand but they don't seem to have the same nodding familiararity with insanity that i do, which is fine because if everyone was as insane as i, i think the streets would be filled with more bodies and the internet would be jam packed with more stupid little blogs about "how a guy just doesn't get this fucking world", and noone needs that. my time here is short, i will be in a box quicker than i can pinpoint the one in which i originated from. some girl made a remark in regards to life and proper puntctuation or some shit like that the other night, i suppose something to do with the end being an exclamation point, you know as in hope that there will be the big bang, the answer, the excalmatory conclusion that sums it all up, i humored her, and agreed with her silly little metaphorical genious, which i'm sure was experience related back to her time in academia, which apparently aided in her fancy little construction of this gay metaphor. punctuation is for bitches. not in a literal sense because i would obviously be a hipocritical doucheag if i meant such a thing. what i mean is that so many people are hung up on the punctuation of life, a period here,an exclamation mark here to denote some sort of certainty in a place and time, NOTHING IS CERTAIN. my punctuation from the beggining to the end will be a big fucking question mark, i hold on to no hope that my life will or will not end in a certain way, i am not safe. when i die i want my headstone to say "here lies alex, he didn't know shit.......questionmark". my life matters little, from what i can see god hates most of us, but he has mercy on us all. with that being said i'm really starting to get curious when thats gonna stop. i suppose the day that it does, my punctuational fate will be that much more clear, but even then it would be awfull hard to decide which mark i want to put at the end, the dead usually don't have much of an afterthought. so i'm jumping ship, going rogue like columbus up in this bitch, i'm exploring a new world with little hope of finding companionship or understanding, but with great hope of seeing what the divine universe has in store, i guess what that means, is that i am ready to die, fuck i'm like thirty years ahead of the life cycle!!! take that phsycology!!! i care little about a job or a life or a woman or companionship, for i have found that this human world offers little that appeals to me, what i care about i cant even fathom, nor would i understand it if god himself were to explain it to me. regardless, i stay hopefull. so i'm off to sleep to dream big and think small, if i wake up tommorrow i could care less, for trecking through the human world is the most hellish treck i can imagine undertaking.

been a few day's......appologies, stress and confusion.......

first off i would like to start out by saying that it has been a few day's and i am a tad antsy and a bit desperate to write some shit down. first of all a couple weeks ago i wrote a blog about my trip to morris island and my new job etc.,apparently i pissed a few people off. first of all i would like to appologize to those whom i may have offended, i really have no concept of filtration when it comes to human boundary, this blog is my release, therefore my honesty is spewed with little tact. i would like to thank the person that e-mailed me this week and brought to light my unreasonable behavior,after i recieved this e-mail i went back and re-read the blog and was astonished at how offensive i was, i am an offensive person, it sucks because in my sincere attempts to be honest and forthrite, i hurt many peoples feelings, i've found this to be a frequent occurence. i love to write and speak my mind, but not always for the sake of being heard but most of the time for the sake of freedom. in this world of human emotion and mental fragility it is important for me to remember what i say, and how it might come accross to others. i am starting to find out that this "no holds barred" honesty honesty gig is starting to hurt alot of peoples feelings and for that, i am sorry. it seems i have no concept of consideration for others, these are the dark day's, my body wears down and my mental's get foggy, willingness ceases to exist, i am confused. it seems that life is always one of two things, extremely dark or refreshingly bright, no inbetween. some day's i wonder if the next will cease to exist, lost and broken i am confused at how my body will carry me through another day. to those i have offended i am sorry, this is my release, my only escape from me and sometimes my only escape from you. sometimes i may say things that are offensive but i can tell you i care, i feel the pain when i hurt somebody else, i don't like it. there will be times when i fail to please everybody but somewhere i can find space to not offend most. i write with an open mind, thoughts flow out onto this script with little thought or resistance, and my freedom is dictated by the very lack of limitations that i put on the lobes of my brain, but what i must learn is that in the process of freeing myself i must not bind others with the ties of anger, cynicism and contempt. with that being said, my limted interpretations about life are exactly that, limited. i will always keep people that i write about anonymously protected, but this is my inner sanctum, my deepest channel of release, and i will try my best not to bring down others in my attempt to free myself. thank you.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

agent x, the man who wants me to write his shitty memoir.....

Today i called a man, whos was a self-proclaimed "deep cover" operative within the realm of political puppeteering, a real "golden eye" 007 type, so he say's. the man i called today, or agent x as i would like to call him, is interested in having someone write a novel recounting his secretive and covert lifestyle, mostly spent in hiding from "big brother". this kind of sounds like a crock of shit to me but whether it is or not,i can tell you it would make one hell of a story. it pains me to ponder why this man would find my crock of shit writing capabilities as suitable for a novel on an agent in hiding, what the fuck right?? at any rate, apparently the gentlemen liked my most recent and shitty story about a guy named mitch. this gentlemans exact words were "I like your style" and we should talk more. this followed with an incoherent and rambling brief history of his life that i was apparently i was supposed to paw over. this guys story seems interesting but i am trying not to get my hopes up, things like this just don't fall in the lap of some inexperienced blog and shitty possible novel writer. i am just thinking about blowing this guy off all together and continuing to work on my man mitch, who seems to get more and more like myself every time i write, yet at the same time he is nothing like me at all. at any rate i'll keep sipping my coffee out of a nifty strabucks "beatnick" style mug and penning out these shitty blogs and i am sure the rest will work out if i just keep penning away on a daily basis. with that being said i hope to move forward with this guy, maybe then i could actually embrace my passion for the craft, and do exactly what i've always wanted to. peace out my ninjas, fight the good fight!

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

a true loss

i thought about her today. it's crazy because it seems that every time my life shows some semblence of so called normalcy she always comes to mind. i wonder what she's doing, i wonder who she's fucking, i wonder how big of a douchebag he is and of course i wish i could figure it out so i could tell her how much of a douchebag he is. getting over someone is hard. for most people the time between relationships is so short that most never get time to actually come to terms with there loss. the death of a serious relationship is kind of like the true death of a close family member. you spend so much time getting to know this person and then all of the sudden one day the magic stops it's over, they are dead to you and you are dead to them and so on,that kind of sucks.  and after you go your seperate ways there is generally no seeing each other or talking to each other or acknowledgement that either of you exist in each others world. it's funny because the so "called stages of loss" are the same. first you have denial, bargaining and eventually (for some) you have acceptance. this can be a seriously difficult period after the end of a serious relationship, it's kind of a radical change to go from shopping together at wal-mart to purposely ignore each others existence. i have not fully embraced my loss yet, it seems obvious .i feel like someone has died in my life. there are times when i don't think about her at all and there are times when i do but i know there is nothing i can do to change the fact that things didn't work, these times can be most difficult because i can subtlely twist my rationale in favor of the possibility. i know for a fact that ship has sailed and I accept it, but the hardest part for me to understand is what next??? i am pretty much convinced that i will never find a female that is capable of handleing the odd, assholish, sadistic, self-indulgent, indecisive and closed off person i am, sometimes i am just not sure if i am capable of truly liking anyone, that could be a possibility as well. it sucks to lose somebody close to you, it sucks even worse when you know you are incapable of doing anything about it, we can convince ourselves that we have moved on and accepted things as they are, but it is hard to change that which has changed the you. i am thinking about her tonight, this frustrates me, so does she.if i never let go of her i cannot be free. will I have to live without? i am not sure but i guess the difference between moving on and not moving on is accepting the very fact that i might just have to.

Monday, August 22, 2011

the frustrations of "Fishing".....(for women)

the casual chase begins with the faintest glimmer of intrigue. she says one thing you say another and next thing you know you are ready to jump her like a set of Olympic high hurdles. so naturally you drop hints, bring your "a" game and even throw in subtle,yet forward signs of seductive vernacular all in hopes of a bite. I'm not sure if any of you folks have ever been fishing, but i have. and with my experience i can paint an interesting, yet comparative analogy that relates to my story. so, imagine you are on a lake, the water is crystal clear and there are no guessing games in regards to the whereabouts of the fish. all of the conditions seem to be perfect to haul in that lunker of a fish you can tell all your friends about. so easy in a sense it's like "shooting fish in a barrel" (fuck im clever). but as you stand directly over the fish and drop your line in the water with your " i'llcatchamotherfuckinfish super bait", the fish seems to be uninterested. i mean clear water, "fishfuckinwhatever superbait" and the utmost tactical advantage over this amphibious creature and she still wont bite, this is some bullshit. i know that there is nothing more frustrating than having the best bait, the best conditions only to come out of the deal skunked, this does not sit well with me.  but of course if you were the host of extreme fishing on the discovery channel you could just jump out of a helicopter and catch a fish with your bare hands( that shit is real! you tube it!) anyway, this would be a sensible solution to my problem, but i think they call that rape these day's. so if i cant jump on the fish?? bait the fish?? or lure that fish??? what do i do??? give up??? god i don't want to for my lust of a lower nature forbids me to do so. maybe i should take a clinic at my local tackle shop on how to more cleverly deceive the fish! or maybe i should just be straight up with the fish and hope i don 't get slapped. as they say in life, you win some and you lose some!  at any rate if i could find the link between the beginning and the end result....a higgs boson of sorts ( ; maybe i could land this fish and make a clean swift dressing of it's hide in hopes of awakening that lower lust right beneath it's surface. it depends on how attentive and intelligent that fish may be, for that would determine the very nature of its harvest!

Sunday, August 21, 2011

my thoughts on starting a new job, the beastlady and morris island......

today is Sunday. the only reason i know this is because tomorrow is Monday, and tomorrow i start a new job, yes a new job. this job is not just any job it's a shirt and tie wearing, fax-paper slinging and photocopying extravaganza! i hate professionalism. for the word itself carries a meaning that is significantly at odds with the way i live my life. i don't like smiling at people if they don't deserve to be smiled at, i don't like to give somebody a big fat thumbs up and say "i hope you have a wonder full day!", if i don't mean it. I have spent the ladder part of the past 6 months waiting to get this job. the money! the benefits! life will be so much better! what the fuck ever. i am slowly starting to realize that maybe the reasons i got excited about this job in the first place were shallow and delusional. you see i am the type of guy who is just waiting for the next gig to come along that's going to save my life. maybe its a nifty little catchphrase that makes my life tolerable for five minutes or maybe its the next hot "Billy Mays" product that will seemingly make my life a little easier. but it seems now that billy Mays is gone and I'm all out of friends that can shit out a life changing catchphrase, Ive been left to make due by my own resource, this is not fun. at any rate this job that was seemingly going to sweep me right off my little whimsical feet into a world of no problems, ponies, butterflies, etc. is starting to look like a nightmare. reason number one. I have two very large and intimidating black men as my superiors and two, they are not very nice and number three my first ever meeting with these folks, my job was threatened if i didn't preform up to there "extremely high expectations". at this point one of the gentle men had nearly crushed my hand on the first handshake i gave him, and the other leered at me as if he was ready to take out a thousand years of slavery frustration on my hide, i was scared. all in all i felt very welcomed with open arms to my place of employment, even though i was scared i was going to be bullied for my lunch money and had to watch my back for fear of swirlies in the bathroom. I am scared to start my new job and i really wish i didn't have to be, but i am, so whatever. Also this weekend amongst all the fear of the unknown and what not, i ventured out with my friend to a big redneck drunk fest at the lovely "Morris island". if anyone ever reads this they might not know that I am sober, this can get weird sometimes, especially when you throw fat loud obnoxious rednecks into the mix. At any rate i left patriots point yesterday after my nightmare of a meeting with my new "inmate" boss friends, and headed out to Morris island. first we had lunch at the "reel bar" it's spelled r-e-e-l not r-e-a-l, i suppose this is to appease the fat stupid rednecks who fish, eat and drink there, cool right? not so much. at any rate as we walked up to the restaurant my buddies girlfriend had two friends awaiting her arrival, we introduced ourselves and invited them to join us, reluctantly, they did.
one of these ladies was probably in her early forties and was very sexy, she had a chiseled face, busty chest and blue eyes that you could easily get lost in, and i did. the other was a very innocent nice young girl who was finishing her clinical rotations at the local hospital, she was extremely nice and very gentle. disregarding the late arrival of my friends other half we sat there and chatted for a few pleasant moments, i fell in love with this lady with the blue eyes who sat across from me, i have a bad habit of doing that with every girl i meet. nonetheless our time was mutually enjoyed and we shared laughs and a brief moment of escape from our demons. soon there after my friends other half showed up. she was a nice girl who was very free spirited, sarcastic and fun, yet gentle and concerned, i approved. not far behind her tailed this beast of a woman who smelled of whorish undertones and loud outspoken babble, a fragrance that stung the nostrils. she probably weighed more than me and wore less than the minimum of what it would take to cover my body, if you haven't gotten a good enough mental picture yet than I'm sorry, maybe this analogy will help. Think of a drunk female nascar fan, that has a knack for screaming loud offensive things and probably lives in a town called budweiserville and also has an issue with close talking. if that doesn't sum it up I'm not sure what can. at any rate after this beast of a lady showed up and i shrunk down in my chair for fear of embarrassment that i might be seen with her, we took off to the dock and headed to "redneck drunk fest 2011", i actually think there was a banner. anyway, me and my friend took off in his boat shortly after the convoy of beautiful women(plus the beast) left. we were separated, thank god. i mean there was only so much time i could spend being seen with this beast lady and that was nearly exhausted by the time we hit the water. It took me and my friend about twenty minutes to get to this spectacle of drunkenness and loose moralled rednecks with a hankering for loud country music and bud light, i knew when we were close because i had visual confirmation of Sasquatch lady about thirty yards from the shore. people could be seen as far as the eyes could fathom pouring cheap beer down their throats and acting like giant cocks, a real spectacle. noticing that the air was filled with "douchebaggery" i immediately jumped off the boat and sought shelter from the insurgents. i coaxed the only two seemingly normal ladies around to go for a walk, they happened to be the same ladies from the restaurant. we went for a walk and we got to talking about this and that, small talk became medium talk and failed to progress from there.  I felt normal again, my contention with the world slowly started to evaporate. i really liked this lady. she was surprisingly real and nervously funny, she seemed wounded in a sense, later i found out that her husband had recently left her, "cold turkey". what an idiot, after 20 years of marriage i found this unbelievable. At any rate, we walked back to the boat and watched the festivities progress. as more alcohol was consumed the more shameless people got, i found this to be an interesting correlation. We started wrapping up in preparation for departure, thank god. by the time we got back to the dock my friend and his girlfriend jibber jabbered about unimportant details which became the basis for a good old fashioned relationship "turf war". I watched in an amused fashion, while the beast tried to giver her best shot at sweet talking me into coming back to her cave. at this point i was on a finger of the dock in a corner of sorts and she closed talked me to the edge, i had to use my cat like reflexes to dance around her large, obstructious body.  unshaken by my escape she pushed forward towards me, at which point i began to contemplate physical response for fear of my life. she gave up eventually, i think she fell short of breath, i was ducking and dodging this bitch all over the dock, surely if she didn't get the message, she would grow tired eventually and that she did, thank god! in the meantime it seemed as if my friend solved his spat with the lady, by talking over the top of her with not so subtle undertones of self-righteousness. i remember at one point chanting "Jerry, Jerry!", he did not appreciate this too much and he told me to shut up. shortly after, his girlfriend and the beast made there way back to the car from whence they came, and me and my friend, well, we left, thank god! we made our way across the harbor to the boat landing and i could clearly see the look of despair in my friends eyes, this made me grateful to not have a significant other, the power struggles, fights etc. are one thing i did not miss. we pulled up to a landing full of boats and my buddy spotted a  friend, he yelled out his name to get attention. at this point my buddy asked the guy what the deal was with all the boats, were they all in line to exit the water??? he wasn't sure but he offered some pretty heavy wisdom when he said, "whether these people are in line or not, what are you worried about?" we looked at each other unable to come up with a fitting answer, at this time the guy asked us a question. he said, "whats the difference between an ordeal and the average task?" puzzled, i said "shit man, i don't know". He said, "easy!....it's attitude". this was a breath of metaphorical fresh air after all the rednecks and bud light,after hearing this we pressed on to find out that the line of boats weren't in line for haul out, so we grabbed the truck and got the boat out. the day was over, i was relieved. at this point i had big plans for eating copious quantities of cereal and falling asleep. which i did, after a short reflection on the day that i seemingly made into an ordeal, and he was right, the only difference was my attitude.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

the bench

We sat there on this bench, surrounded by trees in a half heartidly tended to "park" off Mary street, wallowing in the rubble of the make believe mess around us. he sat there smoking a "black and mild", the last resort of escape without requiring intoxication. hunchbacked he stared somewhere between the ground and straight ahead. "Im just in so much pain, a zombie paralysed by depression and fear", i could relate, and i knew that it was a matter of time before the itch to seek relief would prevail. I sat there with him a  little bit longer, maybe an hour maybe two. we watched as half sheeted college kids walked in front of us on the sidewalk, they scowled in an unsuspecting fashion, they smelled the soberness. yes, self righteous honesty is tough to miss. All we wanted was an escape, some sort of circumstance or chance happening to turn our black perception on it's head, we realized we were pissing in the wind. after a few failed attempts to convince my cohort that we needed to go to the strip club, the desperation settled over me like a dense fog. sometimes I think of life as some sort of like "bush league" flag football affair, i'm like this big super roided out athlete trying my hardest to keep my flags away from the non-existent ghosts who i think are on the playing field, but here's the thing, nothing or no one for that matter is out to get me. i find it's a pure waste of cardio really. so there we sat running around this empty field,  for all intensive purposes, running away from ourselves. hours before i stood at home prepping my best counter culturally sheek outfit, a white fitted v-neck, a tight pair of my best girl pants and a pair of shoes that could pass as marginally expensive, i was ready to take fear by the horns and wrestle that motherfucker to the ground! so i checked myself in the mirror about thirty separate times before i walked out the door, out of "fear"(shit, and all the talk about horns...and wrestling..). the fasaad was polished, i was ready for some mega cool happenings with society, and i ain't scared! as i pulled the wedgie out of my ass from my too tight jeans. I have to say, if i read about this guy in a book or saw him in public and had a trained eye for bullshit, i would feel awfully sad for him, it's ok "cause i got no self-esteem" as the offspring say. it's amazing the things we will do to suppress our problems, Tight jeans, black and milds and gratuitous female nudity, loads of fun!!! but at the end of the night as we sat on the park bench philosophically managing universal meaning for sake of understanding, i couldn't help but think that despite my fears and despite my friends we knew it was all going to be ok. it was as if we had a choice in the misery, a lag time before we realized that it was our faults. i powered through a half a pack of cigarettes and sat on a bench in some dumpy little "park"  to find out that it was all in my head...surprise...foiled again by the woes of fancied self-sufficiency. the end.   and thanks odacheezy for sharing your company last night.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

sub-terranean homesick alien

walk through the valley always in darkness, light fears you here, emerge from the shadows amongst the lighted array of figurines which inhabit the plastic landscape. an alien of sorts as you emerge outward, people stop and stare but not long, for distraction is there purpose, realizing the present circumstances he hides and cowls from those whom he encounters, like a demon stealing back into the darkness. how may i exist amongst the sleeping world? how will i transcend the eternal slumber which plagues this seemingly ignorant place? these beings speak of purpose, but they speak without substance. an aimless path that leads nowhere, paper exchanging hands as to represent some sort of means by which one is to acquire material composition. competition exists everywhere for this green unsuspectingly poisonous piece of paper. wars are waged people die at the hands of the men painted on them. this place is unlike any world i have ever seen, machines are powered by the feet of egotistical men who roam the streets in a dangerous fashion. The creatures driving them seem as if the shape, size and color define the level of confidence they display, they are seen making gestures of hand to each other when one machine seems to deviate from the other ones equilibrium. what is all this chaos here? why do they create so many things that destroy the very fiber of there existence? In an effort to seemingly unify, they tear apart, they identify problems but implement no solutions, they speak of reason, yet reason seems to have no place in their world. this place is confusing my creator! may i return home to you? i cant seem to find a place in which i feel i am not threatened. i weep for these people my god, yet how can i? they seem enlightened to the nature of consequences, yet the link between them and the actions they take seems to be a total disconnect on all levels. I must go. they are closing in on my position, armed with suits made of ignorance, shoes made of inexperience and flags made of false promises. i must go now my position is compromised, they are waving the paper dawned with men's faces, they soar the skies in ominous flying machines that drop fire across the landscape. they are armed with large battle axes and causes backed by fear and ignorance, they know i am different, this i fear because these creatures  know no world other than their own, please take me back home! I'm riddled with fear! they are bearing down quickly now i see no escape, i fear i will now become a "subterranean homesick alien" always longing to return to my true home.

"subterranean homesick alien" is a non-original quote, originally copyrighted as a song from the band "radiohead".  this notation disbands me from intellectually privatising this quote as my own. ( not that anyone reads this bull shit anyway!)

Saturday, August 13, 2011

for my true playaz.....

it is not wise to double take at a woman, they sense desperation.  It is also never good to look at a women period, for that causes subtle pains of desperation as well. here i was browsing through the ole "tagged" photos and there it is, "the black dress", the look that so many times familiarly stared back into my sad misunderstanding stupid little eyes. here it goes again, another moment she stole out of my life, another grand larceny she will never be tried for. but check it out my freaky fresh nuggets, i reduced my morbid dwelling time down to less than a minute, practice makes positive! dwelling on the past is great but dwelling on the present is better so lets look at the scoreboard for today; blueberry cobbler(check), funky fresh haircut(check) and a keyboard from which i churn out my deepest inner ponderings(Check, and your welcome). i'm just a good ole fashioned american, betty crocker ernest hemmingway ass mo-fo! look out new york times, i'm bout to give you some flavor to savor. i can cook, clean and write the pants off of a three hundred word blog!!! my forebodings are somewhat stilled for now, the lady in the black dress has been wiped out by another, my sweet gianna micheals! (put that in your google and search it!) wait don't, it's porn ): time to go to sleep my fellow surfers and tonight i sleep alone, which someone across town could very well hate me for (: don't worry i do to. and for you gianna, well you will just have to hold your little google search horses for another time because tonight i'm feeling like a portrait of integrity!!!

Friday, August 12, 2011


Today i'm integrating myself into my fellow blogger community....reading,criticizing,comparing and contrasting, a good ole fashioned english class "literary analysis", if you will. It was prescribed by a google "How to" piece that i start ; reading, criticizing comparing etc. (i like repetition) and if i am ever to become or take myself serious in regards to wrtiting i would have to read somebody else's scribed vomit aside from my own. the purpose of this (as described by google) is to learn how to distinguish between the good, the bad and the ugly of writing, i love a good clint eastwood reference. at any rate, sparked by the ingenious folks at google who write this bullshit that i read i am now motivated to start reading other people's writing other than my own, yes, a selfless act, I know. thanks google!( not just for porn anymore!) I couldn't help think while reading this article how it might be a "novel" (fuck i'm clever) idea to idolize authors who are not named "Hank moody" and play in wonderfully fictitious shows called "Californication". With that thought exercised, i am off to do some nitty gritty, down-right serious research.So wish me luck folks! maybe this will help me deviate from spiritual rants about how fucked up the world is, and how wonderfull it is at the same time. don't count on it though, i'm a pretty angry individual!!! unfortunately for the 0 people who actually follow my blog, this means i will be writing more, which means more vomit, more anger, more uncut action then ever! just like the jerry springer you have to buy off of those late night vice geared commercials!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

a view from the outside, brought to you by mankind, with other contributions from "viewers like you"

Where is my mind?? One day I’m a brutally honest yet sensitive juggernaut and the next I can’t muster up the courage to say, hello humanity! I found I have a general disliking for human interaction, emotion and people who thrive on it. It’s a scary place to be when you are born amongst a sea of your enemies. It seems to me that it should be the other way around, “the more you know, the more you grow” , the experts in philanthropy say. Unfortunately I cant seem to get on board with my fellow lovers of humanity ,I’m to busy fighting the good fight! I still try though, don’t shit yourself. But more often then not I wind up disappointed in the results of my efforts, maybe because I’m just not that kind of guy, maybe my niche lies somewhere between grave morbidity and somewhat uplifting pessimism. I hate to be so drab but I’ve just seen to many things in my short career of life that makes people seem dangerous to me. I don’t like to label myself wise but god damn, if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck then it must be humanity! And unfortunately being a stickler for the facts that I am, I cant seem put much faith, trust or reliance upon a race of people that have statistically declined in awareness since the beginning. However I may try characterize my frustrations it simply comes down to one thing, Im just a fucking misfit, Oh! And im jealous! Eternally jealous! Can’t leave that out(That make two things really).

I suppose most unintelligible feeling oriented folks(much like myself) operate out of extreme polar shifts in thought or action. As most people with fear of rejection or past history of rejection, I rebel from that source of rejection. This is apropos in a sense that my life on the outside is a direct result of being rejected from the inside. When I found myself unselectively cast out of the inner, I had to embrace the outer. Fortunately for me my forced entry into the outer limits helped me truly find my place, instead of having to act like I was in it. This was refreshing after many years of whoring my integrity out like a skid row crack whore just to fit in. But it seems now I find myself in a whole nother existential crisis, it’s getting lonely out here! Sometimes I find that my truth of being separates me from the rest of the world, my eclectic taste for intolerance drives me away from most ,And I can only take so many hostages, I mean even that loses it’s luster after awhile. it becomes tough sometimes. When I need to reach out for help, will my “books and my poetry” really protect me? Or will I need you annoying bastards to help me out? This is tough. I suppose I will need to be rejected back into my place again, forced to evolve and find a new perspective, a “one size fits all” if you will. But naturally I prefer to wear magnums so already I take issue with this philosophy. One of these days I will not worry about these things, I’ll have a whole new set of problems I have conceptualized and a whole new set of ideas on how to combat them! What a fucking joke. Until then maybe I should just go with the flow and transfer energy naturally, waves don’t generally move in the direction from which they originate, maybe I should take a lesson from the physicists! I know the line I need to walk, honestly it’s not the blurry, I think it’s more frustrating to know I am the one with the fucked up vision, so I’ll make like my friends “foster the people”, pump up my kicks and run faster than my bullets! Because I have a history of shooting myself in the foot.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011


I sat at work today enamored with a dog, this dog helped me learn a valuable lesson about life. As I sat back in my office I watched this dog prance and play as if bondage was non existent. This placid and gentle creature moved as if freedom necessitated his very existence, the absence of it, an unbearable incubus impossible to fathom. I watched simplicity radiate from the animals spirit, for a few minutes I could not help but watch this creature in amazement. I watched him destroy a seemingly defenseless PowerAde bottle in a matter of seconds caring little who was watching or what was around. I found myself thinking as we all gathered around this office watching “Dixie” play, how engaged everyone was. It was as if time stopped, and all I could think of is how free and amazing this creature was, I was envious. I found myself wondering how people would perceive me if I gnawed a PowerAde bottle to pieces in public, I can tell you envy would have little do with that perception. It seems as if we are all so fascinated with simplicity, I couldn’t help but wonder why as I saw “Dixie” dive and slide headfirst across the floor in hot pursuit of the PowerAde bottle. Today I saw eyes that longed for this sort of simplicity and I saw them in the mirror. I would love to write about how everyone else could learn a lesson from this creature and exclude myself but that would be a false endeavor to undertake. I long so much to have a simple understandable existence, it pains me. I often go throughout the day acting and reacting do assorted stimuli trying to make sense of all of it, only to fall short all the time. Life makes absolutely no sense to me most of the time. I remember as a child I used to love looking out the windows of airplanes, for one I loved looking down on people! But one of the things that stuck out in my memory is watching from above a big cluster and jumbled up bunch of people going in a million different directions, freeways looked like huge arteries spanning across the landscape, peppered with automobiles, inter alia. I watched from the sky above with equivocal awe, I could not believe what I was seeing. Nowadays I can imagine a million people on I-5 at 5:30 frustrated and antagonized by one-another, in such a hurry to get home that the very existence of their own lives seems intolerable. But just above there is a little boy with a higher perspective, full of wonder, he see’s what they do not. In the sky he is not limited to seeing only what is around him, but he can see a vast landscape as far as his brain will allow him. It is the height of his perspective which changes everything, 3 hours ago he was riding in the back of his fathers ford aero star complaining about how hungry and how bored he was, only to find hours later he gazed upon a reality inconceivably manifested from the same world he was once dissatisfied with. Forced by limited perspective, it is natural to concentrate only on the bad, but it is with a higher state of functioning consciousness we are able to see the true nature of our being. I believe we are all meant to be simple, free and uninhibited; kids fascinated staring out the window’s of airplanes, screaming out loud in public to defy the constructs of normalcy. These things make us free, this is our world and it is shaped by the characterization we give it, unfortunately in a world of complicated attachments it is an anomalous happening. I found today that I am so amazed with simplicity, watching this dog almost prompted me to drop my human clothing, roll around on the floor and join. I want so much to be apart of the simple energy that lies just below the surface of our complicated human epidermis. Sometimes I feel like I am walking through an endless cornfield obscured by tall stalks making it impossible to see a clearing, sometimes I feel like there is so much shit to wade through to discover the truth that it seems pointless to continue on. But every once in awhile I will stumble upon a clearing that reveals the true and utter simplicity of my existence and faith is restored, then I can move and manipulate myself seamlessly without boundaries. I think we all long for a simpler life. But it seems that we are too far gone, caught up in human affairs which drive us further and further away from what are soul craves. It seems the best we can hope for is days when we enter those little clearings, free from all the bullshit, the moments we see without distortion, moments when our breath is forcefully ripped from our lungs. THIS IS WHAT WE LIVE FOR. Thank you “Dixie” for doing this for me today.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

we are all assholes

So how do you start this thing? Where is inspiration derived? Should I write a nice little piece of self-help gold for all my so called friends to gaze upon? Or should I write a refreshingly pessimistic piece on how truly scary this world is? Gee! What a conundrum? Last night I shared the company of a friend who suffered from human addiction, he seemed sadly comfortable with his situation. So naturally Like the good superhumanly understandable and compassionate individual that I am, I told him exactly how to handle his problem. Shortly after my touching and uplifting words of advice, I pulled out my cell phone and called my ex-girlfriend (a former human addiction of mine). Of course, I was just calling to say hello and make sure that she was “surviving” without me. Sometimes I wonder if I have hearing loss, intelligence loss or just a total loss of sanity. After my friend expressed feelings of pain this woman had apparently caused him, I seemingly pondered, decided and executed a plan to call my ex-girlfriend. A good old fashion decision based on feelings! Yippee! Hypocritical to boot! We are all assholes. This is a fact. Scientifically proven by Alex’s power train, double gold-star experience warranty. Last night I discovered while chatting with my friend how false everyone is in representation. I am not necessarily outraged or disgusted by this, but accepting. To be the ladder would only objectify this behavior more. It’s funny how much time I spend trying to cover this up in myself. I spend hours sharing groundbreaking and uplifting experience only to practice the contrary in my everyday affairs, not purposely but instinctively. What I fail to understand is that the things I try to run from are not actually so terrible. Sadly enough, they are all to typical. I feel as if we all spent more time humbly admitting and making light of our human failings, we would not spend so much time running, we would be better off. I would not spend so much time protecting castles I build out of fear and insecurity, therefore I would have no need to be defensive, People would not trouble me as much, the world not inconvenience me as it so much does, because a man free of fear has nothing to quarrel about. The only time in our life that we are completely free is at birth, from then on the programming starts. “you must take pride in your work!”, “you must stand up for what you believe in”, “this is how the world ought to be, let me tell you why!” endless suggestions based on a falsified socially structured system, passed down only because, it is the only way we know how. Forward thinking we call it! Producing backward results! Funny how are logic is twisted, huh? Now all of the sudden we turn into super prideful egomaniacs protecting castles and statutes which were falsely put in place long before our arrival. As my friend Tyler Durden once said, “Martha stewart is polishing the brass on the titanic, it’s all going down!” but why jump ship? The water is too dark and murky, I’m not too sure whats out there? OH! The endless awfull possibilities in a world of the unknown! Have we ever stopped to think the unknown might be the real beauty of it all? The movie that you never see because your just too scared it might be bad, turns out it was a cinematic masterpiece, but you will never know, because you can’t live without not being able to control the consequences of your decisions. Why? BECAUSE WE ARE ALL ASSHOLES.