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 men 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,,,,

Reminisces lost

I accept the blanks in my memory. I even appreciate them.

Because I know theres a good reason to forget those particular memories.

Reality fades... and so-do- I.

Things are coming full circle so fast these days that the room is spinning...

I wake up and remember old dreams. And it ALL makes sense.

Then it doesn't again.

God, you tricksy muthafucka. I'd be irritated if I gave a fuck. And, sadly (most sadly of alll to myself- I realize )- I DONT.

Today's travails and tribulatons are NEW. That helps a tiny bit. This stagnant pool is deep.

Yes, it is.

Sometimes I wish it waren' t... o' yes I do.

I'd like to say the chaos keeps me sane- but I think we all know better.

I once told a crowded room full of of my fellow- uh - whatevers- that I thank them for their pitiful lives and adventures- because all of their efforts to live, love, what-the-fuck ever - managed to keep me entertained.

And now, I wonder who my own life's struggle is entertaining...

If anyone=

I maintain my super-egotism on the subject... Q: If a tree falls in the forest-
A: Nothing happens unless I am there to witness it.

Want a friend? In the words of the immortal vampyre Yoakum, - "I aint that lonely yet"

I am the Punishment of God.

I AM THE PUNISHMENT OF GOD.
IF YOU HAD NOT COMMITTED GREAT SINS,
GOD WOULD NOT HAVE SENT
A PUNISHMENT LIKE ME UPON YOU.

Aging ungracefully

Life will really, really get you down if you try to hold on to "being cool".

I was cool once. But, Old aint cool. Not by a longshot.

You will drive yourself mad trying to hold on to your youth.

Let - it - Go.

Embrace the important things in life (FINALLY!) and give up your wet dreams of fame and fortune.

For me- I'm a really great dad. But that shit just dont seem all that damn exciting. And, its not. But- its a worthwhile reason for existence. Being a cool guy who bangs multiple different women each week- is definitely well, for lack of a better term- fucking cool. But, its a lot of work. Back when it was easy- well, it was a lot cooler. Now, its all a big fucking drag on my illusion of self worth.

So, I guess I am trying to convince myself to give up my decadent whoredog ways and simply be "the dad.". I knOw I'm good at it. I KNOW that nothing else actually makes me feel accomplished. It just seems so mundane sometimes.

I got to wrap my head around the important shit and let this youth fall away. Youth is fun, fucking, and above all- Folly. And its good, goddamn its so good.

But I realize that time has passed.It's time to give up my dreams of and for myself- and start realizing the dreams of my kids.

letter to Dad

The first, and only letter, that I ever wrote to my dad - (he didnt take it well, by the way)

11/13/95

Dad,

I feel that I must talk with you, and since you refuse to talk, I suppose that this letter will have to do. I don't understand exactly why you act the way you do, but you are hurting everyone around you, including yourself. No one in the world has hurt me more than or as many times as you have. You have made me cry all through my life, even up to the present. From the time I was five years old and you told my mother in front of me and Ryan that you only had one son up - Ryan Berryhill, up until this very day, when you lash out at all of us here at the office, you have hurt me emotionally. I always forgave you every single thing. I have always done as everyone here does. We try to ignore the things you do and say and let life go on, hoping that one day you will simply change.

Well, I guess that I realize that you aren't going to change by yourself. I have offered you help in the past, I offered to go with you to Alcoholics Anonymous, as both of us alcoholics, not just me going with you to support you, but both of us together, supporting each other. I would do whatever it takes to help you be happy. Every time you curse me, or Grandma, or Ryan you are only making things worse. I know that we retaliate, at least Ryan and I do. For a time I believed you. I thought that Grandma and Grandpa had done terrible things to you as a child to make you that way, but then I realized that you treat me and Ryan the same way- Like we are all shit and your life is so bad for having to deal with us. But let me tell you something, Ryan and I have never done a damn thing to YOU. Never, besides rebelling against the way you treat us. I have never done anything to hurt you, no matter how many times I locked myself in a closet, crying , wishing that you were dead, I have never done anything to you. I never even struck back at you all those times you hit me, and up until a year ago I would never have thought of doing so. I don't believe Grandma did anything to you anymore, except spoil you rotten. You treat her worse than any of us, worse than the horrible way that you treat your sons. You curse her and yell at her and basically spit in her face. She is the main reason you live the way you do, expensive car, expensive house, pool, You would not have jack shit if it weren't for her- I know that you would argue about that, but you know that its true.

Beyond all of that- Betrayal of family you also are lazy and don't bother to show up for work half the time. You bitch about working all your life and you need a break once in a while - Well, Mr. Workaholic you have missed exactly 3 weeks and 4 days in the past 3 months. And oddly enough, one of those weeks was a PAID Vacation. You have some audacity, to spit in all of our faces once again, by making everyone work that much harder in order to get things done.

And today, Grandpa and Grandma really need a break, they were wanting to go on vacation but you had to go off on a drunk again, what - overworked again ? I don't think so. You bring a lot of unneeded stress on all of us.

I would say that you should be ashamed, but I don't think that you know what guilt or shame is. If you did, you probably couldn't be able to look anyone in the eyes around here. I love you, but you can only beat a dog so much before he bites back, and everyone around here has been kicked just about to death.
Just think about it, reflect on what you want out of life, Do you want us all to hate you? Sometimes I think that you do, it would be easier for you to continue hating us. Well, we all love you, dad. We just wish you could get your life straight.


Your son,

Everything that goes around, comes around...

Funny how things always come full circle...

Quote from 1994:

"My hypocrisy is my inability to live up to my severely high standards for everyone around me"

letter from 95 to Evil Angie...

You know you always tell me that I don't understand why you WONT or CANT or CHOOSE not to Love my son, my boy. He is a part of me. He is me.

You know you always tell me how hard it is for you to be AROUND my son for two days every other week.

You know you always tell me how much you gave up ...

And still you don't try to understand anything about me.

You don't understand that I love my son. You don't understand how much it hurts me every time you talk badly about him, every time you yell at them, every time I yell at them in front of you to make you feel that I am not treating my son too good. NOT TREATING MY SON TOO GOOD.

You don't understand that I don't know my real FATHER and that I got stuck with some asshole that doesn't love ME. Someone who knows that he is not my REAL father, and everytime I hear you say that you could not LOVE my children because they are not of your blood, it is a knife in my back, reminding me that that is probably how LEE feels about me, just because he is fucked, not me. People cannot pick their parents. But you know what, they don't have to GIVE UP THEIR CHILDREN.

MY SON IS MINE. HE WILL KNOW IT. I WILL KNOW IT and Now, YOU know it.

I love my son he is a part of me.

I love you and I would sacrifice for you. I would do anything that you NEEDED me to do. I want you beside me forever. There is no one
else for me.

If you cannot sacrifice for me then you do not love me as much as you think.

If we are to be married in one year then it is about time the both of us grew up. I am NOT going to DAMN my son the same way my "father" damned me. I will not reject him. I will not hurt him to make you feel better about yourself.

He is now a part of my life, and a part of yours. Sacrifice and Compromise are a large part of trust and love. Love is Unconditional. Please Don't place conditions on what I cannot change and I promise you that I will never do the same to you.

I love you - Forever and always. I cannot fix this hole in my heart, this hollow place that remains dark without the love of a father. But I can prevent Evan's heart from becoming as dark. I don't want to hurt anyone and I have enough love to be share between all.

"What is given out in free spirit is returned tenfold to the giver. What goes around comes around."

Drilling past the surface

Okay, got tired of Facebook. I like seeing all my friends every day, (and all my enemies) but god it's just TOO EASY to get myself sideways with people when I am just being- well- ME. This is why families should only have family reunions every once in awhile- so people can only see you on your best behavior for short increments of time. I can't help but letting it all hang out and for some reason that just pisses off most people who are busy being tightly wound and only letting their true selves eke through their carefully crafted veils when they slip and let it out.

Boring and Sad. Two things no one ever considers me, even if I do piss them off. Well, anyway, the hell with facebook and showing my "face" off every day. It's back to being Lost in the tubes. Fuck the face of things anyway. Its the deep recesses of your minds (and mine) that interest me. Rip away the illusions and dare to be your unedited, uncensored self. You might piss people off, maybe even me. But, you'll have my respect for having the guts to be yourself. They might not like what you have to say, but secretly they envy your freedom. At least that's how it is in my world... Now, excuse me, but I'm going to delve back into it.

Angel came down from heaven yesterday...

B O R E D

Your Mission: Get drunk, open your mp3 list, and randomly pick out songs, then get more drunk, and chaotically pick out random lyrics, misheard or not, and put them together into one depressing, yet deeply philosophically seeming mishmash.

Lets see how the fuck this works out:

first song was system of a down, about pizza, or some shit. Methinks he was much drunker than I when he wrote this song. Okay, next

Note to self: Metal lyrics used to be the best. But this shit lately is just pathetic..

"I'm the one = you made me= Pirate, Poet- King of despair"

Okay. That is less than pathetic. Thats just full blown embarrassing. I can see a girl blowing this guy backstage, then hearing these lyrics , getting up and walking out on this fucker.

anyway- lets Revisit some oldschool to verify:

okay- ANY song off And Justice for all is just poetry, pure and simple. I once read the lyrics to one of these songs to my father as a sort of protest to his whole existence. Can't do that with slipknot, now can you?

Bob Marley- Overrated? lets see... Could You be loved? - I'm not even 30 seconds into this, and I'm already groovin as much as a white boy can. Over-rated, my ass. Subtle and Sublime.

The Night I called the old man out- Garth Brooks talking about kicking his dads ass. Lame. Lame. Lame. and fake as shit. When you HATE your dad- you will win. you have to win. And by god, you'll beat that fucker like no sad country song can explain...

In Garths defense- heres a song that makes up for that stupid ass shit: Somewhere other than the night- A song about a marriage that re-awakens- something we all wish could happen a lot easier than it does. "Come to realize we'd neglected certain things- there are times she feels alone even by his side.." It's all too true. And harder to fix than a song makes it sound.

Meeting of the My-inds

Undertow

(ack! survived the last post.. who knew it took 37 hours?! anyway-)

Pull me under
Pull me under
Pull me under

Waiting to drown, with ne’er a frown..

Lauren comes back Wednesday. She took Tristan to Kansas for the past month. The girls went to Andrea’s for the month. It’s the first time in nine years that she’s ever kept them for the month of July, like she’s supposed to . Amy makes me feel like this is all my fault, somehow.

Evan and Andrew don’t have the time of day to spare me. I guess I could force them to come down here, but I don’t want to do that. I wish, god I wish so bad that they would want to come spend time with me themselves. I’ve lost them, I suppose. I tread water while I wait for a time to come when they will want me in their lives, beyond their annual Christmas visit- collect their cash and their presents, pretend to give a shit and then go right back to their bitch ass worthless mother.

Yeah, I’m pissed, but I cant be at them- got to blame it on someone else. Else I’m a hypocrite of the highest order. I lay blame at my own fathers’ feet= both of them, the one I know, who was such a fucking abusive monster, and the one I didn’t know, whose abandonment has caused me a lifetime of hurt no less than Lee’s physical and mental abuse.

But fuck that. I’m not going to whine about this shit. I’m made of sterner stuff than that- they made me that way, I suppose. Bastards. I wish my boys knew how much I love them and how much I would give for them- of myself, I mean, I guess they should know, but I worry that they don’t.

Amy wants to blame me for everything, and all I can tell her is that I’ve been here- every day, every way. I didn’t drive their mom away, honestly, I am the one who brought her back, told her all was forgiven if she would just come visit them again.

But still, it’s the way of life= everyone’s attracted to the one who isn’t there for you. Everyone takes the person sitting there waiting on you, patiently, for granted.

Everyone thinks that person will ALWAYS be there…

And, I guess, when it comes to my kids, I will remain here, a parent scorned for sins 1000 times less than those of my own worthless fathers, whose love I chased after all those years.

All I can do, is offer support and love and be here, when they need me.
But damn, it hurts like I cant even write…

I am so sick of this pretend existence
= i want to die but i DONT have to balls to off myself, well, not yet anyway

Anybody want to record me killng myself and make some cash>?
Somebody ought to get somethingn ouout fof thisn hsit


FUZCK

DIE bitch die
I am one beer away from locking myself in the garage with my durango running

But i need the right soundtrack. death doesnt scare me, loooking like an asshole scares me, which is extremely ironic, since i've perfected the art of being the biggest asshole ever

this is the worst epitath EVAH. lol

God, has anyone cemented their jackoff status like this? I think not; I am the greatest at something
apparently that something is getting drunk and killin myself with carbon monoxide .

My wife is coming back to me in 3 days

So if you need a motive, there you go

Ack. said the great cat. ACK said the less-than-great dipshit

Have a good time you defective fuckers


You may love Jesus, but all the other gods think hes's an asshole

Lessons... learned?

And when your wounds cannot teach you anything more, you either know what you need to know-
or you need more pain to teach you...

the rising tide

The emotion hits hard, and I almost start crying before I know it-
It sweeps over me, pulls me off my grounded "reality" and spins me out,
all in a brief second.

I feel it-
I FEEL.

That may not seem like such a grand thing to you. But most times, I don't feel at all anymore.

Life goes deep, even if we don't trouble ourselves to move out of the shallows, most of the time. It runs deep in me, to depths I've visited, but don't often touch anymore. It's too painful, its too hot, its too extreme. It hurts to look at myself, in this too-bright mirror that cannot- will not lie to me about myself.

There's a lot of intoxicating things about my life- but the biggest temptation is to sink into the intoxication of pretend and pretense. To crawl back into the shallows and never leave again. To mold myself to simplicity and boundaries and walls and lock myself away in some fixed little world.

It seems so easy, but I end up hating myself and the chaos pours out of me when I put myself in that position anyway. Know thyself. And I know me all to fucking well.

I'll never settle for the simplicity, for the peaceful life of acceptance and surrender. In my never ending battle to sate my soul, I've become numb past the point I even thought possible, most of the time.

Sometimes even the quest for chaos seems a little bit rote.

Wherever I am, in this moment, I can feel it- and I can lust after it anew, and make myself promises I know I'm destined to break.. But, whatever it is that brought me here- to this point, to this awakened emotion, I appreciate it, I revel in it and I absorb it and let it absorb me. And I'll happily let these tears stream down my face- for a thousand reasons- and for no reason at all.

for the moment, I live again. And I am happy

Easy answers

Cunts that kill
And desires that don't
And in between
I never get what I want

Even though paradise is a realization away
I always manage to brush it aside
I give the obvious up, to plunge into the fray
And pour myself into the doom that has already been tried

Life means so much, to me, who is a sacrifice
Love means so much, to one who sates,
Life fades for those who pay the price
Love pales, not a treasure, to the ones who wait...and wait...

Incoherence

Can someone make my wife stop messaging me? no? AAAAAAAGGGH!



I am NOT reading your obsessive bullshit! Leave me alone!



Ahem, ah, back to our regularly scheduled broadcasting...



Got my 10,000 mp3s on shuffle - this will be an example of impromptu perfromance art...



"My backpacks got jets"



And on a tuesday I'm gonna hug you..

Semi Coherence

semi-coherence..

put a bullet in my head.
And now the beast is fed.

Nonsense rhymes...
for nonsense times

Oblivion cannot come too soon
Searching for the appropriate tune
To end my life on a "High" Note
As if it mattered, in god's eye, this mote

I give to "God" My fate
and hope that it may sate
this hunger and this hate

Self-Hate? Self-Love?
Why do I dream of what's above?
Why can't I find sweet peace
in a life that cannot cease

Why can't i be content
in a life I wont repent?
How can I give my all-
When my desire is just to fall

ah. it’s the Story of my life,
crawling by in unfinished strife

creeping towards a ? goal?
Will it make me whole?

Will I never know if I had a soul?
Is Eternity for me just a hole?

And though I dig down, and try to dig deep-
I comprehend, to my disgust, that I am just another sheep

DBS 1.002

the pain is gone.

and as I look blearily back, I wonder if it ever really existed...?

It's strange, that I don't even remember the pain right now-

Its' shadow is there, its' shapeless memory...

Is it bad that I don't remember the pain, but I remember the hate...

?

Of course, I am lying again.. The memory of the hate is a bright, still-burning flame

that much is true.

But the pain was so much more.

Please let me forget. Please.

...


09/30/2006

another day dies, another sunset suicide-
and the phoenix that is my intoxication rises yet again
Renew my love, my life, my lust - under the flag of a new night's surrender
forget the pain and embrace----

I forget what I am supposed to embrace, exactly,,,
I kick up the stereo, loud,louder, loudest
And let my heart swell in the imagined moment
Worship the illusions ...

Pretending is the only strength I have left

I give my life to my kids- My eternal retribution/salvation

No matter how I fuck up, No matter how I fail, No matter what mistakes I make-
they are only my failures to myself

I stand above it all- for Amy and Rain.. IN MY mind, and in THEIR REALITY- I am a GOD
because I have to be. Because anything less would shame me.

I don't mind failing myself. But I will NEVER FAIL them.

So my responsibility takes its toll... I submit myself to the whims of my children and scatter what dreams I may have yet held for myself
IF They were REALLY my dreams- I should have acted on them long ago, right?

The truth IS: There's a REASON I am a good dad and a failure as an individual.

My parents were lacking

I may be lacking in a LOT of things. But I will never be lacking in taking care of my kids

I was meant to be a Father. I love my duty.

You can condemn ME for anything you feel/want

But you will never find a bit of evidence that I didnt sacrifice everything for my kids.

I give nothing. I give it all.

For Them.

For Andrew. For Evan. For Amy. For Rain.

And, to be really HONEST- fuck it all- Fuck EVERY THing Else- FUck YOu ALL. All MY LOVE is for my KIDS.,
Fuck EVeryone of you bitches that thought you could take EVEN a moment of my lOVE from them.
Fuck you. Fuck me. I give it all up. I just hope they can find happiness.

The day ends with a whimper, though I pray for a bang. I search for an extreme, in this life so mundane.
All the things I could have done.
5'O'clock came and I ran for the door= Friday. Payday. A thousand dollars waiting for me to blow it on whatever fancy catches my eye.
Phone starts ringing.This girl. That girl. Every woman but Mine- who, at home- was getting ready to Go - to work.

I could go here. I could go there. She doesn't even expect me home. I talked to a few of these "other women" = infidelity in thought, if not in action-
Knowing I could be a bastard is enough, for the moment= I give a few lame excuses, because, who matters if they are believed or not? I kill the phone, head straight for the beerstore. Pull up in the driveway at home, not knowing much- just that I want to be alone and drink and dream and drink alone and dream alone.

She's there. A kiss. A hug. A passing glance and then I am outside. Two other lost souls are there- doing their own impression of not caring. Brothers. Stringing bows and drinking beer. Their girlfriends and wives, like mine= are an arm's reach away- and that is as close as we want them. We lose ourselves in the illucid business of killing time. She comes out- gives her cursory goodbye- I call her over- Give her a kiss she probably didn't expect... And then she's gone. I drift away from my brothers --- drinking more beer, trying NOT to think. I kick on the stereo in the car- I notice, for a second or two that its a beautiful day then shrug all observations from me. The peace is IN the apathy- The goal is to achieve thoughtlessness.
Bleed by Cold gives way
to Blue eyes crying in the Rain by Willie gives way
to Cemetary Gates by Pantera gives way
to These Days by Rascal Flatts gives way
to... nothing
but even though at this point, I am in the car, with the volume cranked, and singing .. I am not there. My body is on autopilot. my soul is numb. I stand outside and look at myself- unjudging. I close it all off, one sense at a time- until I am locked away and I don't even know myself.

I don't want to know myself. I don't want to think or feel or understand. I don't want to realize my faults or recognize my triumphs.

So- Nirvana achieved. Blissful Numbing of my ALMOST ever-present self awareness- I clumsily take the keys out of the car, stumble over to the brothers and share a beer quietly, throwing out a sentence when appropriate... like when you are driving and you get to your destination - and suddenly you wonder: "I don't remember driving here.."

Don't say goodnight. just rise and move inside, to another Beer, JUST IN CASE. I am drunk, and wearily, I understand that fact- but I am scared that I could possibly sober up- So I grab TWO beers and head to the bedroom - to the computer - to document this pure exposed emotion. And here we are...

DBS,,1.001

So when I am going to finally shut the fuck up?

When I do, I’ll be dead, so I’m rooting for continued bullshit level Zeus.

I don’t know what the hell that means, but it seems kinda like some intellectual inside joke, so I’m going to leave you with your imaginations on that one, mkay>
Half the battle is won in the imaginations of idjits. (not that YOU are an idjit, I’d never say that)..

You ARE reading my drunken bullshit, so, you must be really gullible or really bored

I’ve got my fingers crossed for both,

I keed I keed

No, I don’t, (JUST KIDDING)

Okay, lets shift this to a time capsule- Its May 30th in 19 minutes. My 36th birthday. Fuck, I lived about 16 years longer than I expected…

My job, the best job I ever had, ends tomorrow, on my birthday. It’s been really cool, making money doing something that I love. I doubt it will ever get that good again. But hey- its my life, and I seem to pull some perverse enjoyment out of everything I end up doing. …

It’s like I’m some kind of retard-optimist or sumthing.

Hey! No one asked you for comments! Fuck all of you, you just hate your lives and are jealous of my happy-go-dumbfucky life. It’s hard to be this intelligent and STILL convince myself that I’m exactly where I want to be. But I manage. I cant disagree with you that the copious amounts of alchohol may be a factor. But, hey, I’m half Irish, half Injun- if you expect me to lay off the firewater, well, you’re quite properly fooked.

I’m following the dream-path, the tribal way. Celt or Crow, doesn’t make much difference to me, boyo

Anythings better than the shit they pour in this trough and try to make me feed from.

The simplest truth is the best, and often the most eloquent. You can attempt to lose yourself in the intricacies, you can follow that knot for all its worth, and when you never find yourself, you can have a legitimate excuse….

It’s so much easier to get lost and stay lost. Finding yourself can be a chore, with all the mistakes you have to grasp and admit in order to understand.

The easy path for the lazy fool. Take it, with my blessing. Your lack of comprehension doesn’t’ make ME worse or better. You are only picking your OWN pocket with that shit. Leave your mark a dollar or two to get by with.

I did my best
But I guess my best wasn’t good enough

Nothing ever changes
We’re back to being strangers

I want you
To want me
I’m going crazy knowing he will be your lover tonight
And when he comes
I’ll let you go
I’ll just pretend that you walked out the door

I can’t sleep

I’m going crazy with love
Over you.

You should have seen by the look in my eyes, baby
There was something missing

You should have known by the tone of my voice, maybe
But you didn’t listen

Instead you lay still

And though I know all about those men
Still I don’t remember

Then I meant
Every word I said
When I said that I loved you
I meant that I loved you forever

I don’t want to sleep
I just want to keep on loving you

Trying to find a song that will make me cry.

I want to cry

But I cant
I used to play Two out of three aint bad by Meatloaf and cry like a baby
Now- nuthin

I don’t have it in me anymore, not the emotion, not the passion, I truly don’t care anymore.

Fuck! This is bullshit

Drunken Bs Backup 1.000

Added later: “Women have always been my weakness…
Lucky for me they have always also been … my strength…”
9/18/07

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 cryingWhy? I dont know…

Round here I always stand up straightRound here something mindlessly debates

Kirk came from nowhere with a suitcase in his handhe 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 sandJust like hes walking on a wire in the circus

he parks his car outside his houseTakes his masks offSays hes close to understanding himselfhe knows he’s more than just a little misunderstoodhe has trouble acting normal when hes nervous

Round here he’s carving out his gameRound here he wishes he was just the sameRound here we talk in inverted little linesBut we sacrifice for shamsRound here I’m slipping through my hands

She says its only in my headHe says shhh I know its only in my headBut the devil on his shoulder in the empty spot saysman 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 jumpinghe says hes tired of life=

he must be tired of something

Round here I always lose my mind
Round here - got lots of timeRound here were never give up earlyAnd nobody makes their fate

I cant see nothing, nothing round here
Let me fall when Im falling

Ruler of a world that means nothing.

At first, Everything had meaning.

Then, I wanted Every Thing to have meaning.

After that, I wanted every one thing to have two meanings, at once contradictory and complementary.

I wanted to be above it all, even while I writhed within it all.

I lived, I loved, I flirted with self-destruction.

Then I made love to it.

Then after fucking everything I could out of this life, I grew tired of it.

Every day brought a new challenge, a new experience, a new love, a new hate.

Then- nothing.

All of those days of meanings and double-meanings fell away. Or rather floated away, wisped away, dissipated away.

I lived the life of self-absorbtion, then I lived the live of self-sacrifice. And it truly didnt matter. I could burn out in either way. I could disappear in either way as well.

All of those grand meanings ended up meaning nothing.

...

I could wake up one day and kill everything I loved, I could give myself up to destroy some great evil.

Or I could fall in-between (so far in-between) and exist and survive and continue.

The extremes and what they stood for were revealed to be ego-trips of no great distance. No glory in something so simplistic, either way. Actually, no glory in anything.

No meaning in anything.

I have sought and sought. I have breathed life and I have extinguished it. I have seen the passing of those I truly loved. I have nurtured new life and set it free. I have given up my own desires, I have crushed my dreams at the altar of self-awareness.

This ant's life is without meaning.

Going out and killing a few ants as I pass, in rage, means ... NOTHING.

And neither does becoming the salvation of any group of these same ants.

We are told that Self-awareness is what "separates" us from the animals. It is what makes us human. But actually it is neither curse nor gift. And that is because our level of self-awareness compared to that of any other creature on this earth is a miniscule gradient of improvement.

At the heart of us, computers, pyschology, science, evolution, not withstanding- we are still just creatures that try to merely survive,procreate, and fan the flames of our own self-worth.

We are merely ants. And I'll live out this ant's life to my ingnoble demise and be satisfied. For there is NO nobility in the fame of the moment, no honor in the notoriety of being noticed for the blink of some other ant's eyes.

NONE.

Lil fucker in training

Ah is humbled agin

Lord let my ass be an instrument of peace or some shit

White Motherfucker Self Defense

Bonus vid :


Prison Economy Spirals As Price Of Pack Of Cigarettes Exceeds Two Hand Jobs

The attempted feminism of man

Comrade Kevin has some great posts on men trying to fight for women's equality, striving to be a male feminist, and getting accepted by the Female feminists as comrades... (sorry,Kev,that was lame but I couldn't resist)...

Something I'd like to see feminism address

Pramatism might be the better approach

Coda

Hat tip to Liberality for allowing me to re-discover Comrade Kevin's blog. I haven't seen his blog since my HOTRS days.

And since, this is my blog, where my opinion is the Word of God, here is the comment I posted on his Pragmatism post:

In my life, the less you argue with women, the better your life ends up being. Sometimes you can't even agree with them without getting your ass handed to you. Everytime I've told a group of female feminists that I'm a male feminist- I get the raised eyebrow treatment and end up being heaped with scorn and derision that I could ever consider myself as capable of empathizing with women.

So, I just gave up trying to convince them of my pure motives. When in the presence of a group of ardent feminists, I relegate myself to "just a man" status, and when the complex subject of gender equality comes up I don't attempt to insinuate my opinions beyond self-deprecatory comments of mollification. After all, I'm a member of the gender that has caused them so much pain and therefore, no matter what, I'm still "just a man."

Continue striving to be a feminist and fight the good fight for equality. But I myself quit trying to convince them I was on "their side". It doesn't have to be women vs. men, but women AND men together. If they could realize the only people on the "other" side are the men AND the women who believe that certain genders should be restricted on certain levels, this would be an easier task for all of us to accomplish.

The Genius of "Reality"

Some quotes I found on Alternet:

“‘Reality’ is the only word in the English language that should always be used in quotes.”—Unknown

We have to remember that what we observe is not nature in itself but nature exposed to our method of questioning.—Werner Heisenberg

All great truths begin as blasphemies.— George Bernard Shaw

The dissenter is every human being at those moments of his life when he resigns momentarily from the herd and thinks for himself.— Archibald MacLeish

It is proof of a base and low mind for one to wish to think with the masses or majority, merely because the majority is the majority. Truth does not change because it is, or is not, believed by a majority of the people.— Giordano Bruno

Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion.— Democritus of Abdera

Words ought to be a little wild, for they are the assaults of thoughts on the unthinking.— John Maynard Keynes

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity...and I'm not sure about the universe.— Albert Einstein

And this little gem I found in an article by sci-fi fantasy artist Stephen Hickman

The Three Essentials of Genius

An eye that can see Nature,
A heart that can feel Nature,
And a boldness that dares follow it.

The Celtic Triads

Letter to my daughters 4th grade English teacher

Edited - (My wife works for the school, so I made it a little more polite before I gave it to her Friday morning):

4/23/09

Ms. Stone,

I would appreciate it if you would keep your thoughts on politics to yourself and not aimed at your class of nine and ten year olds. My child repeated some of the slurs you made against our President and I am appalled that you would abuse your position of authority with these children to go on a political rant that was terribly misinforming.

I won’t deign to educate you on your misconceptions about which of our chief executives, past or present, is to blame for the poor state of the union at this moment. Let’s just say we can agree to disagree.

However, you aren’t teaching civics or politics. Write a letter to the Levelland paper if you need to vent, but please keep our children out of earshot of your rhetorical rants. I would prefer you to stick to the subjects the school pays you to teach.

Very Sincerely,

Christopher Kirk Berryhill

American Hookers

Gram Rabbit - American Hookers

Tabula Smaragdina

The Emerald Tablet

The Smaragdine, or Emerald Table (Tabula Smaragdina) is a short alchemical work attributed by medieval commentators to Hermes Trismegistus. It first occurs in the writings of the Arab Jabir ibn Hayyan (i.e. Geber) who lived in the eigth century, but it has been thought to be much older (see Burckhardt). There were many manuscripts of it circulating at the time of Agrippa. Ortolanus (or Hortulanus) the alchemist wrote a commentary devoted to the Emerald tablet around 1350. It is worth noting that Trithemius quotes the Tablet in full in his letter to Germanus de Gonay, dated August 24, 1505.

.

Hargrave Jennings, in his introduction to a translation of the Hermetic writings by John Everard, relates the legend of the Tablet:

In a treatise attributed to Albertus Magnus, we are told that the tomb of Hermes was discovered by Alexander the Great in a cave near Hebron. In this was found a slab of emerald, which had been taken, from the hands of the dead Hermes, by "Sarah, the wife od Abraham," and which had inscribed upon it, in Phoenician characters, the precepts of the great master concerning the art of making gold.

.

This inscription consisted of thirteen sentences, and is to be found in numerous alchemical works.
.
The Subject of the Tablet is the alchemical Great work, or as it is here described, "the work of the Sun". This may be regarded in the higher sense as the material death and spiritual rebirth of the soul, or in the lower sense as the physical transformation of base metal into gold. Agrippa admits in ch. XIV, bk.1, that he has participated in alchemical experiments and has succeeded in creating gold, but no more by weight than the quintessence of gold used in the experiment. But he certainly valued the Tablet more as a repository, in cryptic shorthand form, of the great Hermetic principles, particularly the second sentence, which sums up the entire philosophical ground of occultism in the Middle ages in a few words.

.
The version of the Smaragdine given here is based upon several translations of the Latin text, which is the one Agrippa would have had before him. In composing this version, consideration was also given to the Arabic text. This differs from the Latin in a few points of emphasis, but, it was not thought necessary to depart radically from the sense of the Latin version. The major variation between the two is in Sentence 10, which in Arabic reads: "Thus the microcosm was framed on the macrocosm." The words that translate "of the operation of the Sun" in sentence 13 can also mean "of the work of gold" (de operatione solis), emphasizing the double interpretation that is possible.
.

Some translators combine the first and second Sentences, making a total of 12, but I have preferred to separate the two to emphasize that the "truth" referred to in Sentence 1 applies to the entire Tablet.
.
Emerald Tablet
of Hermes Trismegistus

1. It is true, without falsehood, and most certain.

2. What is below is like that which is above ; and what is above is like that which is below: to accomplish the miracle of the one thing.

3. As all things were formed from one, by the thought of one, so all things are born from this one thing, by choice.

4. Its father is the Sun, its mother the moon, the Wind carries it in its belly, its nurse is the Earth.

5. It is the author of all perfection throughout the World.

6. The power is strong when changed into Earth.

7. Separate the Earth from the Fire, the subject from the gross, gently and with care.

8. Ascend from Earth to Heaven, and descend again to Earth, to unite the power of higher and lower things ; thus you will obtain the glory of the whole World, and the shadows will leave you.

9. This has more strength than strength itself, for it overcomes all subtle things and penetrates every solid.

10. Thus the world was framed.

11. Hence proceed wonders, which means are here.

12. Therefore I am Hermes Trismegistus, having the three parts of world philosophy.

13. That which I had to say of the operation of the Sun is perfected.

Roll your own...

This is what mine will look like- its the SS1 package, and painted just like I'd want the 69 painted...

Lauren asked me what it would take for us to leave Texas and move to Kansas. "Let me buy that fucking camaro and I'll start packing today"....

The Singapore job fell through. So, she's looking in Kansas now (good luck). Some people may not like the new camaro, or think it looks too much like the Mustang, but it's got a lot in common with my favorite model (the 69 of course). I love that back side window. Perfect. Plus the Camaro team has put a LOT of work into this project- a helluva lot more than the Mustang team, and 10 times more effort than Dodge put into that lackluster Challenger....

By the way- list price as pictured above is right at $32,000. Hell, I can just have her trade her big ole badass pickup in and she can drive the Durango if she wants to move so bad...

Behind the wheel of that beautiful machine, I won't give a damn if I'm in Texas, Kansas, or fucking timbuktu.

A sudden death to dreams

Life is for dreamers,
And I think I've dreamed my last dream...

Last caress...

SCENE: Sitting in front of a Computer screen, opening yahoo messenger to a chat window all alone-

ME: I know you ain’t around, but my avatar is a pic of the new kirk

Hopefully new and MUCH improved...

I want to see pics of this baby by the way when it gets here

ME: ACTUALLY, I'd love to see pics of you right now, preggo as hell, but I bet you are avoiding the camera like the plague

ME: Stupid as it may sound, believe it or not- I am more excited that you are expecting than I was for my own new bambino

ME: The only immortality you will ever touch is now growing inside you. Enjoy.

I remember how your eyes lit up, (even decades later) whenever you were happy and excited about something- I hope that time has not eroded that passionate kid inside you.
There has never been a smile that touched me the way yours did- When you-

ME (interrupting my own reverie): Any-way... I digress.

Enjoy. Enjoy. Enjoy.

You deserve this.

ME: This will be my final "ex dipshit-bf waxing drunken poetic in a messenger window all alone" message. I am happy for you.

It ain’t much, but I humbly pass along my best wishes... and a boyish smile that is less shit-eating grin than it is pure, childlike glee for the girl I loved, so long ago, and still.


Enjoy.

(for Angela Christine Rash)

All swagger aside-

Never Mistake your presence for the event.

Swagger

Look me in the eyes when you kill me, motherfucker.

If you've got the balls.

Pride is a poor substitute. Not even the same animal.

This ain't pride. This ain't some piss-poor ego trip

This is how it fuckin is, and it is what it is-

when you see it, you know it.

FUCK your illusions and screw your delusions

I try to be a good guy, I really fucking do. All for naught, sometimes. I don't even remember what things like fear or regret are... All I know is what I am. And self-control is the biggest gift I've got.

But sometimes, I just don't feel like giving.

Fake it if you don't belong

another day, another theme song.

Pop culture existence

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all?

The longer I live, the better I become, and yet the more I hope that there is no afterlife.

Fuck Heaven, Hell and all the in-between.

What's in a dream? What is a dream, to someone who's lived out all his only real fantasies? All except Fame- but I know myself enough to know that I'd hate that shit and I would allow it to change me.

Better this small slice of infamy- I am the man, the myth. I'm THAT fucker. The guy that doesn't doubt himself. The one who threw away his inheritance because I wouldn't let myself be lessened and wouldn't submit to someone who was so much less than I.

I've got my own little weird pride. Sometimes in the wrong things, and I realize that. But most of the time I pride myself on being better than everyone around me. And I mean that in the most sincere way. It's all I've got, after all. I'm a better father than any of my friends and family. I work harder, I strive harder. I do more with less expectation of reward, and some could consider that a flaw, not a gift. But I embrace that gift with my own brand of self-flagellative bliss. I can handle the pain better than YOU. I'm tough. And I'm true to myself and my friends. I take care of them, even when they abandon me. Fuck it= I can look them in the eye and know I am better, and they can see it too. I've never met anyone quite like me...

And I hope the fuck that I never do.

Makes this throne easier to sit in.

"King of the Dipshits" It ain't much. But its still better than being just a fucking everyman.

Hell is here

I can't Drink myself to sleep! I can't get drunk! What the fuck is wrong with me?

Momma Sed

* This was the first musical track off the album I made for Bubba for Christmas, but never got around to sending him...

Discography of the "Daddy Sed Album"

Seven Seals- Bill Hicks
Momma Sed- Puscifer
Big Little Baby - The Rev
Captain Caveman
My Dad's a Fkn Alcoholic - Hate Fuck Trio
Doin Time - (Original Mix) Sublime
Polly - Nirvana
Christianity - Bill Hicks
Amerika - Rammstein
Loaded Gun - The Rev
Kicks Joy Darkness- Hunter S.
The Mercy Seat - Johnny Cash
Nobody does it better - Radiohead
Year of the Cat (Acoustic) - Al Stewart
Easter - Bill Hicks
River of Deceit - Mad Season
Touching a Brother'Heart - Jay and Silent B
Breed - Nirvana
Lords of this World - Black Sabbath
Shape of my Heart - Sting
Religious Interview - Roger Waters
Last Song - Theory of a Dead man
Secret of the Bottle - Jackyl
Cuntry Boner - Puscifer
Claire Danes Poster - Size 14
Finale - The Orb

Burying the future as fast as the past

You see it all around you-

good loving gone bad.

And usually its too late when you realize what you had...

Not zis time. I've lost and won (do we ever "win"?) in love enough to know that "what you had" only seems good once its gone. I'm wise enough now to know if I wasn't happy THEN, I wouldn't be happy now. Time may heal all wounds, but blurry as her/their image/s is/are, I still manage to recall she/they weren't good enough.

Love is a series of regrets that always seem much more important once the sands of that hourglass have slipped through your fingers.

Or, they did, once upon a time. Now I see that shattered timepiece for what it was. And regret its passing not at all. Bring on tomorrow, I guess, if nothing else, just for the minute hope of a change of pace.

I regret the futures that await, now. Fuck the past and its shadowy, half-remembered lusts, loves, and losses.

Listen to the rythym of the falling rain, telling me just what a fool I've been,
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain, and let me be alone again...

I used to say that Pain was a gift. Then I philosophized that Everything was pain. Now, I realize that Pain is Nothing. Or at least, nothing is painful to me, anymore. My emotional nerve endings are completely numb. All pain is merely theatrics now. Every offense, every affront, all tribulations, all the trials that fall upon me- don't really affect me at all.

I go through the motions of pain - if nothing else, just to pretend I'm still part of this world, that I don't really care to belong to. Even this conversation is just meant for me. I realized long, long ago, that I'm the only one worth talking to. And sometimes, I don't even care to talk to myself.

Those are the times I feel most enlightened. Alas, they don't last long. And I'm back to the same old self-worship. Everbuddy needs some religion, right?

But, my dreams, they aren't as empty- as my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely - My love is vengeance
That's never free.

THIS church, it's a pitiful thang, ain't it? Once grand and vibrating with a thousand angels' decibels, there's nary a whisper of a breeze to whip through the empty pews. And that's the only way I'd ever truly have had it. TRUTH. Thats the only god whose sermons mean a damn thing to ME. Let the truth reveal itself, in time. And maybe it has.

I suppose when I'm wise enough to know for sure, I'll know it. Faith is such a fake ass concept. You don't need faith in anything that you know is true. You don't even consider "faith" in those matters which you are convinced of. Faith is a .99 cent sale. Its a scam, always has been. And as much as I'd like to say I Know for sure, I still am not convinced.

So, I guess I can stand waiting around for a little more truth to come around the bend...

Ooh Child, things are gonna get easier...

BULLSHIT, the young man says.

SHUT THE FUCK UP PUP, the old man says. AT LEAST WHEN YOUR BETTERS ARE IN LISTENING DISTANCE.

Talk shit to yourself/selves... I don't really want to hear anyone's bullshit but my own...

Little black clouds

..following me...

"black clouds hangin over town tonight...
but I don't mind, I don't mind..."

black cloud whispering into my ear-
but I don't hear, I won't hear...

if you're cold I'll tell you its the summer breeze-
one kiss from me, and it'll be alright

What time will you let me down?

...

I'm not down yet.

(brief interlude:
silence broken by the psssshh of a tallboy beer being slowly opened- the sound of a zipper being pulled down, of the first touch of your hand on my thigh, a voice saying "I.." when you know the next words are "love you". It's the sound of a promise- maybe one yet to be fulfilled-but, ah that sound means that release is one step closer...)

Then he lies awake and he wonders-

Why can't that be me?

... cause in his life he's filled with all these good intentions-
he's left a lot of things he'd rather not mention

right now.

If I could be like that, what would I do?

(Sighs envelop you, me, everything.
Introspection only comes when passion has ebbed away. Only after the moment passes me by do I second guess myself. Then I second guess the second guess... and so on, and on. Never one to LIVE in anything but the moment. But, I'll allow myself the guilt of this backwards glance- knowing I can't change anything- KNOWING- in my stubborn asshole self awareness, that I wouldn't change my first reaction If I could any-damn-way.
but, I like to TELL myself I'd have been better if I had just had that second chance)

now the currents only pulling me down...

I used to roll the dice
feel the fear in my enemies eyes-

the minute that I held the key- next the doors closed on me...

... and that was when I ruled the world...

(What the fuck is this second guessing horseshit anyway?! Even I don't believe in it. I've never been one to forgive, but I love to forget. Bring the new dawn and a new day's innocence to lose. I'll allow myself to be reborn as many times as I want...

But recent days bring the revelation that birth- and even re-birth just ain't all that exciting.)

I'm so addicted to-

Nothing, anymore. And I wish, almost, that I was. I've never been one to ask God for anything. I always believed that the only blasphemy was to ask God for anything that is only of use to YOU in this petty existence. But I kinda want to ask God to give me a fix.

A fix that makes me want to live this life.
A fix that makes me love again
A fix that makes me desire another day here, rather than despise it)

Wake up in the morning, get to living my life...
making sure I'm all that I can be....

?

ain't worried about nothing, cept the man I want to be...

(but who in the hell do I want to be, anymore? I've been everyone I ever wanted to be... Not to mention a half dozen bastards I never imagined being...)

And I thought I found it-
couple times even settled down.

and I'd hang around just long enough to find my way back out-

I'd be thankful for the tears...

( only when I was semi-happy again)

Nothing is unattainable. But I only want what I believe I'll never find. And if it happens to drop into my life, no matter how miraculously and heaven sent-

I'd love it, fuck it, own it, and suck it dry- of all that I could- and I'd give it up to chase the next unreachable dream.

It's the quest that matters. Not the Grail itself.
I'd piss in it and toss it to the roadside after I'd drunk it empty. It's the search that matters.

And when you're done searching, you're done.
Two-edged blade that is. Decadence is its own reward, as the infamous one once said.

When you are done searching, you have either found what you were looking for-
or you have tired of jousting windmills. Either way, when its done, you're done. And when you havent found what you're looking for, after all this time- you know you must have been looking for the wrong thing all along.

And, that's alright too.

The answers that come are seldom the ones we thought we were seeking.

Now Dance, Fucker, Dance



Show me how to lie
You're getting better all the time
And turning all against one
is an art thats hard to teach

Another clever word
sets off an unsuspecting herd
And as you step back into line
a mob jumps to their feet

Now dance, fucker, dance
man, he never had a chance
And no one even knew
It was really only you