Doh! Secrets

For every loud, overt action I pull that draws everyone's eyes-

there are three subtle undercurrents laid that you didn't catch.

You didn't notice. You didn't care. You didn't even know why I brought it up at the time.

But, there are reasons behind the rhymes.

That is all.

Back to our regulary scheduled program...

A God without a church

They offered Him no sacrifices, they built Him no temples; they were content to offer Him their hearts which were full of awe, in His own temple which was full of grandeur. And it is said that there are yet some barbarous islands where me have no churches nor ceremonies, and where they worship God, reflected in the work of His thousand hands.

...

The simplicity of men, and the cunning of their priests has destroyed or corrupted all the religions of the world.

Exile in Nietzsche

"One generally mistakes me: I confess it; also I should be done a great service if someone else were to defend and define me against these mistakes."

Fade translation: I have not the time to waste on YOUR misconceptions. But to those who will set the fools straight, you have my undying gratitude.

Double alternate Drunken Fade translation (added later, when realllly drunk for clarity): I am such a fucking badass, I don't have to explain myself. Hey- can one of my groupies do that?

"Here the ways of men part: if you wish to strive for peace of soul and pleasure, then believe; if you wish to be a devotee of truth, then inquire."

Fade translation: Sheep, Shephard, Wolf or Outcast. The part YOU pick defines you.

"Do we after all seek rest, peace, and pleasure in our inquiries? No, only truth-even if it be most abhorrent and ugly."

FT: Must I explain that?

"Every true faith is infallible inasmuch as it accomplishes what the person who has the faith hopes to find in it; but faith does not offer the least support for a proof of objective truth."

FT: Truth transcends all faith. Faith is the willful rebuttal of truth for no other sake, but to reject reality in the service of an abstinence of thought.

"The world is poor for anyone who has never been sick enough for this "voluptuousness of hell"; it is permitted, it is almost imperative, to employ a formula of the mystics at this point."

FT: ... i canna put it better than that, now can I?

Til I die

"All bonds chafe, that is their nature. But nothing chafes so infuriatingly than the bonds of matrimony. Because, you know, at the end of the day, your prison is your own not-so clever creation."
Lord F.Tong de Silva, Late 12th century

"Marukka den es mort" I whispered, breathlessly, into her eyelid, as she lay beneath me. Her eyes popped open, wider than, perhaps they should be... "What?.. What did you say?"

"Nothing." Our eyes drank each other into our hearts again, for a long moment. And our lips met again, eyes open, not wanting to miss anything from each other- whether it be a moment of enhanced passion or a hint of betrayal ready to be exposed by the wrong glance...

"What- Did You Say?" she asked, insistently and a little breathlessly, herself. I paused, the words had escaped me, unexpectedly. The moment had been too much, almost. I was weak in her arms. Too weak. But this was a weakness I was savoring. I pushed away the pain that was sure to come, later.

"It means 'Til we die'," I lied.

Her eyes closed in almost fairy tale passion. And I felt a moment of regret. Another second stretched out into infinity.

"No, it doesn't meant that, exactly." I stroked her face and absorbed everything I could of this second. It was so real that it became surreal. It was more than life should be, could be, is supposed to be... I never wanted it to end. I Never want it to end.

"It really means ... "Til I die". I bore in close to her neck, burying myself into her skin. And then my eyes closed, afraid to see any more.

Marukka den es mort. My passion, my altar- that I sacrifice myself onto, over and over.

He talks to Angels. And Demons. And in the end, aren't they always the same?

Lives in perspectives

Sometimes I look at back at my life, and it seems so monumental. Other times I stare hard at everything I've been and it seems so sad. It's all a matter of perspective, I suppose. I tell myself I should look at it from this one direction, and it will all make sense.

But in the end, I am very glad that I am one of the few who is able to look at it all from every angle. Even the angles that don't show my best side....

Fuck, and here I go again. Going to throw it all into chaos once more. The simple life just don't suit me. It's not really that I want more. I never have been the greedy type. I just know that this - this life, this incarnation of this life- is less than I can live with. I know, I say its all for my kids, I martyr myself on my single parenthood past and pretend that its all for them. But sometimes you just gotta do for yourself. This incarnation- this life today that I lead IS for my kids. It's 100 percent for them. And, even I can't believe I am saying this- admitting it after giving myself for so long- I feel like I cant do it anymore.

All my life, I have done pretty much what I wanted. And I pursued the angles that led me where I wanted to go. I fixed the dice, as it were. I never went blindly into ANYTHING, no matter how happenstance it all may have seemed. I screwed up, sure. But I always made every screwup turn up right, one way or the other. Some times it was hard work, sometimes it was just realizing where I was, what I was doing, and the quickest way to get where I wanted to be.

I wasn't always tough. I wasn't always lucky. I wasn't always smart about how I did things. But somehow, I was smart enough to never fuck up TOO badly. And I was smart enough to know that when I gambled or overplayed my hand, that I had a fallback.

And now, I'm here. I outsmarted myself into being what I have always despised in life: The type of person that marries for all the wrong reasons. Well, not all the wrong reasons. I thought I could love her. I thought that good intentions couild make this work.

I was wrong. I forced the issue on every level. And I bit the bullet and married her when I knew I wasnt in love. And she knew it too. And she even knew that she wasnt in love with me either.

She has her reasons. Some of them I don't even know,I'm sure. Mine were simple. I didnt want my new son to be a bastard. I wanted to have the stable 2 parent family. I thought I could spend the rest of my life with one woman.

Well, the truth is, I cant. I dont even believe in monogamy. Deep inside, I think its for losers. I see its pros, but the cons outweigh it so much, it seems ridiculous. I see it in those twilight days, when you probably just want someone to talk to and revel in not being alone. I see that. I do.

But Lauren isnt the one. Wisdom comes hard or not at all. If you are in it for the long haul, pick someone you CAN talk to. Someone you can respect for all your days.

Lauren has a lot going for her. But she and I are not soulmates. I do not respect her enough to be the one for her. This is NOT her failing. Its just one of those things.

She's been a better mom to my kids than their real mom, fucked up whore that Andrea is. Buts that not fair to Lauren. Lauren has BEEN the girls mom for the past four years. She's lived it and done it=because she wanted this relationship to work. And because she loves those girls.

They love her. And thats truly why I married her. And its screwed up, because I KNOW i will Never meet a woman who will be as good a mom to my daughters as Lauren is.

But it don't matter. Because I don't Love her. And I knew I didnt when we got married. And I did it anywway because I thought it was the "right" thing to do.

And here we are.

And I gotta unravel this mess, as best as I am able, with as little damage to her and the kids as I can. Because I've tried to tread water in this for as long as I can- and its not working. Its causing more hurt than its preventing.

So I look at my life, and as glorious as it has been on some levels, and as despicable as it has been on others- it continues. And I can pussy out and keep treading water or I can man up and deal as honestly as I can.

lets see.

“Women have always been my weakness…
Lucky for me they have always also been … my strength…”

Prologue:

Once again, I return to this most lucid reverie…

Gather my wits (or whats left of them, at least)

I:

It’s August 3rd, Friday night ooops Scratch that, Saturday Morning.. 1:35 am. Andrew and Lauren are in the other room playing Magic. I bored of that hours ago… drinking, alone. Surfing fubar and the House of the rising sons blog, listening to music online …

Wild horses.. sing it, Mick, you motherfucker.

I guess it isn’t going to take wild horses, after all. Just one VERY determined woman. Moving out of the house next week… 10 years gone.

Blows my mind just to consider it all. Getting old. Friday night- and this house is empty.
Unreal…
Once upon a time, that wouldn’t have even been thought of…

Life changes.

“There goes my hero, watch him as he goes…”

I was my own hero,- for such a long time.

…

Now, not so much. All the pride, all the immediacy, all the anger, all the pain, all the fire…All the things I loved so much to hate, All the fight in my soul that made it worth it all-

Has burned out.

Not enough passion to light a fucking cigarette, it feels like, sometimes. But still, I carry on, carryin on. I don’t have so much of a death wish anymore. I don’t go crazy as much as I once did. I don’t know if I am getting old and wise, But I know I am growing old.

And resenting it. And yet, not knowing what I am still supposed to resent, after all these years. I rebelled all my life. And NOW, nothing left to rebel at. Sink into myself, I’d laugh at all my wild misconceptions and how wrong I was about how I’d turn out- but I find that its just not funny.

II.

South of Heaven’s eerie opening pours in, a flood of atmosphere, filling the empty crevices of my mind with doom and gloom and the purely righteous emotion of self-hate. And the only commandment of all reveals itself as: Thou Shalt Not Rise Above.

On earth, as it is in heaven, O’ Lord.

And all I can do upon the morning of this groundhog day revelation is exhale deeply and take another swig off this beer. Thank the lord for IT, if nothing else.

If it were not for something to numb the sense of futility, I could not stand this life for long.

“Separate the fact from fiction” … Well, hell, sounds easy, doesn’t it?
The trouble is, that the fiction tempts as much as the fact doesn’t.

“I wish I would’ve met you,
But now it’s a little late..

They think that your ending was all wrong…”

The ending is right. It’s the beginning that fucks me up.


III.

And a brief moment of silence, and Dylan enters from an empty hall.. “Here comes the story of the hurricane..”

And then the story takes me away, the music peels me off the floor and lifts me up, and I DO rise above, if only for a few minutes. Bless ya, Bob.

The music intoxicates as it fabricates- another existence, another level, another life, another world- and more importantly- Another ME.

And nothing is more fantastic than just escaping the chains of this meager existence…


Step out the front door like a ghost into a fog where no one notices the contrast of white on whitehouse

In between the moon and you-

Angels get a better view

Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right

I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself, back again…

I don’t know

My heart says I’m dying
through the door I hear her crying
Why? I dont know…

Round here I always stand up straight
Round here something mindlessly debates

Kirk came from nowhere with a suitcase in his hand
he said he’d like to meet a guy who looks like he’s supposed to..
he walks along the edge of where the desert meets the sand
Just like hes walking on a wire in the circus

he parks his car outside his house
Takes his masks off
Says hes close to understanding himself
he knows he’s more than just a little misunderstood
he has trouble acting normal when hes nervous

Round here he’s carving out his game
Round here he wishes he was just the same
Round here we talk in inverted little lines
But we sacrifice for shams
Round here I’m slipping through my hands

She says its only in my head
He says shhh I know its only in my head
But the devil on his shoulder in the empty spot says
man you should try to take a shot

Cant you see my walls are crumbling?
Then he looks up at the building and says hes thinking of jumping
he says hes tired of life=

he must be tired of something

Round here I always lose my mind
Round here - got lots of time
Round here were never give up early
And nobody makes their fate

I cant see nothing, nothing round here

Let me fall when Im falling

Self-Victimization

It's a lovely existence, O' yes it is.

Not profound.

oh no (es)

But- it- is - a lovely thing anyway.

I'll pass on the over-reaching deep philosophical statement right this moment.

And embrace what simplicity I can hold to, (maybe only for the fast moment that I can subdue my own senses-)

and- it'll be alright.

The spectre of our lives rises up to overshadow us at times. And at times, even I (your rakish semi-evil hero) cower in fear at my shortcomings.

Give up those fantastic (and indeed, less-than-fantastic) expectations.

You won't ever live up to them. And even if you did- you'd never realize it.

Suckers. Aint we all,,,,