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..
Thursday, June 25, 2009
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
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...
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
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
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
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