Never in my life have I been more frightened as I am at this moment.
I am so in love with a woman who is poised to leave me because I fucked up.
So long ago, I wished nothing more than to remove this woman from my life, and perhaps this is because I understood what I did not comprehend at the time. I understood that this woman was as a virus to my heart, and she has enveloped my very soul with her essence. I now can not imagine existing without her...
But I have destroyed so much in my own self centered anger. As a young man who is confused and uncertain of the future, I lashed out to the closest victim I could find. I reasoned that I was righteous in actions due to an unclear mind.
I have failed at school, teenage life, and further into my adulthood. I surround myself with thoughts that I may someday "Become someone," but in the end I find myself blissfully happy at a couple of book sales a week. I and my family live off of a pipe dream and foodstamps... I have failed...
I have spent decades looking for where I belong. I have tried Christ, goths, raves, and intellectuals... and find nothing of solace from any of these people. Instead, I find solace in the bottle that helps me feel human again. But what is humanity but vulnerability.
I am so tired, and yet I can't bring my mind (or soul, perhaps) to rest.
Here's my favorite part of this song... it starts at 3:41... so poignant...
And then there's those words... "peace... hope... love... Jesus Christ..."
Can we not find a solution that doesn't involve a tall tale legend from days gone past...?
Okay, well, I need some sleep before I sleep here and ... sorry drifted off there,,, good night sweetness!
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
about yesterday...
My wife and I went out just to get away from the kids for an evening. For her, it's about the bull shit holiday, and for me it's about making her happy. I could give a shit about the commercial holiday.
We went to a diner to start. I had a Reuben, my favorite sandwich. For some reason, it seems to me the best Reuben can be found a little diners. My wife decided that in standing with the holiday, she had to order the steak and lobster tail. I would never order a steak at a diner. We skipped desert.
She didn't want to go home just yet. So she asked if I wanted to walk around a walmart for a while or we could go to a bar. I said I would go to a bar. She sighed and commented that she wanted to just have me to herself and every time we go to any of the bars in the area I run into people who know me. Fortunately there's a little bar kinda out of the small town that I can go in anonymity, so I drove there.
She ordered a lager, I had a pale ale from bottle since they didn't have much that was of interest on tap. She spent half the time talking about other people's taxes, and I didn't listen. I know nothing about the whole tax thing and could care less. I spoke of my writing and cooking show, and I think she could have cared less. After I ordered the second beer, she quickly finished her beer and seemed ready to just go. I finished mine quicker that I would have liked since I really enjoy the taste of that particular beer, but it wasn't about what I liked. She paid the tab while I used the restroom and we left.
I asked what she wanted to do and she shrugged. We went home and found that the kids were still awake. We tucked them in, told them to sleep, and retired to the living room. We, or maybe just I, decided to watch a movie. I had tried to watch "Kick Ass" at one point, but was too tired to finish it, so I suggested that. She said that seemed fine as she plugged in her lap top. I figured that she would open it as the movie started and just play her online games. Instead, I think she actually just wanted the whole movie with me. Though, as soon as the movie ended, she opened the lap top.
I did my little look at my computer to see what was going on in the world of facebook and shit, and said it was time for bed for me. She kind of acknowledged me, said she would be right up, and continued harvesting virtual shit or something on her lap top.
I went up to my room, turned on Franz Schubert and undressed for bed. I closed my eyes and listened to the music as I drifted off to sleep. Almost an hour later, it was towards the end of the collection of Schubert I had on my computer upstairs and I found I was still alone in the bed. I sighed and rolled over. I listed to the softly playing music, unable to close my eyes again. Some time later, I heard my wife moving down stairs and soon she came to bed. I heard her place her glasses down on the little shelf/table thing by the bed, and she climbed into bed.
Soon after, I drifted off to sleep again.
I awoke this morning with that "I feel uncomfortable in my skin" feeling and decided to give up on the sleep. I came down and sat at the computer. And now, after checking the facebook thing and all my other stats that I obsess over, I'm writing this without really having a reason to.
Tomorrow is her birthday and I have nothing yet to give her. I wish I could be sleeping now, but that's just not possible. So I'll turn my attention to getting some work done here on the computer and be ready for a nap just in time for everyone to wake and want breakfast. In other words, this is going to be just like any other day for me...
We went to a diner to start. I had a Reuben, my favorite sandwich. For some reason, it seems to me the best Reuben can be found a little diners. My wife decided that in standing with the holiday, she had to order the steak and lobster tail. I would never order a steak at a diner. We skipped desert.
She didn't want to go home just yet. So she asked if I wanted to walk around a walmart for a while or we could go to a bar. I said I would go to a bar. She sighed and commented that she wanted to just have me to herself and every time we go to any of the bars in the area I run into people who know me. Fortunately there's a little bar kinda out of the small town that I can go in anonymity, so I drove there.
She ordered a lager, I had a pale ale from bottle since they didn't have much that was of interest on tap. She spent half the time talking about other people's taxes, and I didn't listen. I know nothing about the whole tax thing and could care less. I spoke of my writing and cooking show, and I think she could have cared less. After I ordered the second beer, she quickly finished her beer and seemed ready to just go. I finished mine quicker that I would have liked since I really enjoy the taste of that particular beer, but it wasn't about what I liked. She paid the tab while I used the restroom and we left.
I asked what she wanted to do and she shrugged. We went home and found that the kids were still awake. We tucked them in, told them to sleep, and retired to the living room. We, or maybe just I, decided to watch a movie. I had tried to watch "Kick Ass" at one point, but was too tired to finish it, so I suggested that. She said that seemed fine as she plugged in her lap top. I figured that she would open it as the movie started and just play her online games. Instead, I think she actually just wanted the whole movie with me. Though, as soon as the movie ended, she opened the lap top.
I did my little look at my computer to see what was going on in the world of facebook and shit, and said it was time for bed for me. She kind of acknowledged me, said she would be right up, and continued harvesting virtual shit or something on her lap top.
I went up to my room, turned on Franz Schubert and undressed for bed. I closed my eyes and listened to the music as I drifted off to sleep. Almost an hour later, it was towards the end of the collection of Schubert I had on my computer upstairs and I found I was still alone in the bed. I sighed and rolled over. I listed to the softly playing music, unable to close my eyes again. Some time later, I heard my wife moving down stairs and soon she came to bed. I heard her place her glasses down on the little shelf/table thing by the bed, and she climbed into bed.
Soon after, I drifted off to sleep again.
I awoke this morning with that "I feel uncomfortable in my skin" feeling and decided to give up on the sleep. I came down and sat at the computer. And now, after checking the facebook thing and all my other stats that I obsess over, I'm writing this without really having a reason to.
Tomorrow is her birthday and I have nothing yet to give her. I wish I could be sleeping now, but that's just not possible. So I'll turn my attention to getting some work done here on the computer and be ready for a nap just in time for everyone to wake and want breakfast. In other words, this is going to be just like any other day for me...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
sober bedtime? bad fucking idea!
I'm thinking that going to bed sober was a bad idea...
So, the dream when like this:
It was my old neighborhood, and the neighbor had somebody with a megaphone telling them that they were doing something wrong... unimportant.
I was gathering friends for a party thing at my mother's house.
The basement was unfinished like it was when I was 5. There were a whole bunch of mats on the floor and blankets and pillows all over. The people there I knew only in the dream and had no recognizable features to anyone I ever met.
The topic of conversation was driven by myself about some japanese demons that I had been learning about in this dream. Well, as i was explaining about them, something seemed to happen. The whole mood grew dark and serious and the people around me started to grow nervous.
Suddenly, the one dog there, almost similar to my brother's dog some time back, began to viciously bark at me as though possessed. I wasn't afraid because I just blamed the atmosphere that was spooking the dog.
To prove that I wasn't afraid, I held out my hand to it. It lashed froward and almost got my arm when someone reigned in the dog with a leash.
As the dog was being dragged away, about five more dogs came in and started wildly barking but no one was there to stop them. Something happened and the dogs were finally taken away. My arms were bleeding from where they had bitten at me.
It was then that my cat who has now been dead for about 13 years in reality, showed up. He hissed and growled as I've never heard a cat before, and he jumped at me. I grabbed at my cat and tried to pin him down so that he wouldn't be able to reach my hands with his teeth.
There was no where I could hold him that I could prevent him from biting into my skin. I could actually hear his teeth piercing my skin. It was as though his bones could contort to reach me. Everyone around me was terrified and I could see blood all over my cat and my hands were in agony as blood gushed out. Someone asked if the blood was mine or the cats, and when I looked at my cat, his eyes were glaring with violent hatred.
It was at that moment that I awoke, dripping with sweat. I was freezing cold. I tried to close my eyes but all I could see was that last look of my cat... it was like that image in your eyes when you stare at something too long.
Not only the content of the dream disturbed me, but the obvious vivid memory of it.
So what do you think?
(yup, this is exactly what I remember from a dream I dreamed at nearly 1 AM this morning... )
So, the dream when like this:
It was my old neighborhood, and the neighbor had somebody with a megaphone telling them that they were doing something wrong... unimportant.
I was gathering friends for a party thing at my mother's house.
The basement was unfinished like it was when I was 5. There were a whole bunch of mats on the floor and blankets and pillows all over. The people there I knew only in the dream and had no recognizable features to anyone I ever met.
The topic of conversation was driven by myself about some japanese demons that I had been learning about in this dream. Well, as i was explaining about them, something seemed to happen. The whole mood grew dark and serious and the people around me started to grow nervous.
Suddenly, the one dog there, almost similar to my brother's dog some time back, began to viciously bark at me as though possessed. I wasn't afraid because I just blamed the atmosphere that was spooking the dog.
To prove that I wasn't afraid, I held out my hand to it. It lashed froward and almost got my arm when someone reigned in the dog with a leash.
As the dog was being dragged away, about five more dogs came in and started wildly barking but no one was there to stop them. Something happened and the dogs were finally taken away. My arms were bleeding from where they had bitten at me.
It was then that my cat who has now been dead for about 13 years in reality, showed up. He hissed and growled as I've never heard a cat before, and he jumped at me. I grabbed at my cat and tried to pin him down so that he wouldn't be able to reach my hands with his teeth.
There was no where I could hold him that I could prevent him from biting into my skin. I could actually hear his teeth piercing my skin. It was as though his bones could contort to reach me. Everyone around me was terrified and I could see blood all over my cat and my hands were in agony as blood gushed out. Someone asked if the blood was mine or the cats, and when I looked at my cat, his eyes were glaring with violent hatred.
It was at that moment that I awoke, dripping with sweat. I was freezing cold. I tried to close my eyes but all I could see was that last look of my cat... it was like that image in your eyes when you stare at something too long.
Not only the content of the dream disturbed me, but the obvious vivid memory of it.
So what do you think?
(yup, this is exactly what I remember from a dream I dreamed at nearly 1 AM this morning... )
Sunday, January 29, 2012
belonging...s
I was thinking about how when I was a young lad, I wanted to belong to some group or another. It was like I couldn't see that my small collection of friends were really enough. I wanted to be part of the popular crowd, and I would often get very distraught that it had never happened.
Now, I look back and realize that it was absurd to feel like that. I make my own way and have my own thoughts, and for this I leave an impression on people I meet. I can not begin to tell you how many people remember me from brief encounters.
Eh, and on that note... nope, actually, I have no idea what to say today except that I really want a nap. I think that waking up late, drinking a couple of drinks and then going back to bed after a big breakfast isn't such a good thing... Ah... lazy Sunday!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
history and shit...
So my parents had a rough time with me at a point... but I turned out fine in the end. I learned more from my books and reading the Satanic Bible than I did from my parents in the end. Of course there is the whole idea that I learned from their mistakes. But what about what I learned about how to properly deal with the young adolescent shit head that I was?
So there is the old parental idiom: "I hope your kids turn out just like you."
Funny thing is, my daughter seems to be doing just fine. I'm very proud of who she is and what she does. I love her and am happy that despite the divorce, she will turn out just fine... or as fine as any child will. But my current wife's son is a nightmare in a way. He's not even mine, and he frustrates the fuck out of me! Unfortunately, he reminds me much of my own person I was way back then. I would like to imagine that I learned from my mistakes. I feel I did sometimes... but often I made the same mistake over and over again. But in my defense, I felt justified about my choices because I did it to attain the ultimate goal of losing my virginity. I suppose I would feel a little more compassion about his rebellion if I believed that he was doing it for this reason... but it just seems that he's lazy and refuses to own up to the punishment his actions have warranted...
Of course, I didn't tell my dad that I ran away to try to stick my dick in a girl, so I imagine they felt the same way I do now... wonder what would have happened if I had been that honest about it all way back then...?
So there is the old parental idiom: "I hope your kids turn out just like you."
Funny thing is, my daughter seems to be doing just fine. I'm very proud of who she is and what she does. I love her and am happy that despite the divorce, she will turn out just fine... or as fine as any child will. But my current wife's son is a nightmare in a way. He's not even mine, and he frustrates the fuck out of me! Unfortunately, he reminds me much of my own person I was way back then. I would like to imagine that I learned from my mistakes. I feel I did sometimes... but often I made the same mistake over and over again. But in my defense, I felt justified about my choices because I did it to attain the ultimate goal of losing my virginity. I suppose I would feel a little more compassion about his rebellion if I believed that he was doing it for this reason... but it just seems that he's lazy and refuses to own up to the punishment his actions have warranted...
Of course, I didn't tell my dad that I ran away to try to stick my dick in a girl, so I imagine they felt the same way I do now... wonder what would have happened if I had been that honest about it all way back then...?
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