Good daddy

Another oh so lonely night.
Girls in bed.
Listening to sad music and thinking about all those might-have-beens

Hating life at the same time i Love it-
Self-is the only problem i ever have. Everything is good, until i remember-ME

Me is kind of an overrated concept.
Truth is, everytime i worry too much about Me- I end up doing the wrong thing
So i put Me out to pasture

I live for my girls, And when I do right by them- Life is such a perfect thing...
Until, the lights go out, and i put-themto bed.and=its-just-me-and...nothing

      that's when the price gets paid

What-Dad-Wasn't

Aint that a bitch...named...

I fight it, and I fight it - with this rebel-born heart of mine,

I don't even understand it myself, I;ve been in love lots of times.

Before Her, After Her...

I've forgotten her , only to be reminded again and again by this treacherous heart of mine.

I can't chalk her up to some poignant memory.

I can't keep her in the same box as the others

The loves of the rest are as memories. I miss them, in an offhand, senimental way.

She is different. I tried to find her on FB tonight, to tell her how much she made my heart ache-

Goddamn it all. I actually love that bitch.

More than i love myself.

Jesus fucking christ- what a curse

The Righteousness of Illusion

What is it that makes me keep going?

Fear? Boredom? Hope? Love? Sloth?

I don't fear death, but I don't choose it. I want the eternal peace of escape, but not enough to do anything to hasten it's arrival.

It's not boredom that keeps anything happening, if anything, that's my worst enemy- my inability to be sated, to be entertained completely by anything in my life.

Hope- That's possible. That i am waiting around for an affirmation of .... something-anything. I hope for answers, for conclusions, that I am afraid I already may be aware of.

Love? Yeah, thats not it.

Sloth- Most likely. Treading water in this thing called life.

The answer is Illusion. It is our illusions that keep us going. It is our grand misconceptions and our capacity to want to believe in something- ANYTHING. We grab hold of whatever illusion makes the most sense at any given time, and cling to it like fingers digging into a cliff's edge. And we fall, over and over- whenever we let go of the illusion. And, sometimes it's bad. And sometimes, its actually good. But most of the time we find, that letting go didn't matter much. We can make excuses and explanations all day long for the perceived shortcomings of our lives- both perceived by others and perceived by ourselves. And we can invent solutions too.

Most of those solutions involve more illusions- and clinging even harder to them.

Sometimes you hit an epiphany were you shatter one illusion, and come to the realization that its opposite should have been your goal all along.

and, you can jump down that path, full of righteousness and remorse-

But it's still just one more illusion.

The Clarity of self deception

Hate gives way to exhaustion... And exhaustion brings unexpected peace..  bliss even.

It takes energy to hate. And when you've boiled away all the angst, when the all-fiery passion cools, you are left with the resignation of thought.

And, in those moments, the only energy you end up expending is Truth, of a sort.

I ended it with my "lover" - if thats what you can call it. Really, i cant. And i'm pretty sure thats not how she'd describe me. Not if she was being honest.

Attention Deficit Disorder Deviants.

Indulging whims, sacrificing sanctity for a moment's self absorbtion

Sinning for the sake of sinning

Anyway, I told her today that i was tired of her brand of poison

I cannot tell you if she heard me at all

Maybe she'll notice when i dont return her calls.

Maybe, she won't.

Maybe neither of us give a damn, nor did we ever.

Ah, Love. When you hate yourself, you can put up with so MUCH>

Evolution of the Host
by Robert Pinsky

The primate that for a time rose to dominate that planet
Communicated with its peers using a code of grunts
Exhaled from the orifice of ingestion and shaped
By lips and inner membranes, muscles and teeth.
The creature communicated also with its descendants,
With memorized patterns of those same brute sounds made
Eloquent and urgent as the dance of a worker bee
Miming the precise distance and bearings of sustenance.
In the language of sustenance and honey, host and guest

Are two pronunciations of a single word: primeval guttural
Khoust: meaning sacred obligations and ceremonies between
A stranger who accepts bread and a stranger who gives it.
Or before the sacred obligations and ceremonies, the host
Was the enemy, the khoust of savages, barbarians, gentiles
Arrayed for battle against me. O Lord break their jaws kill
Their spawn. My enemy rises from the dead as a ghost:
The ghastly third, the other, the khoust intervening between
My hunger and the transforming sweet breast of the world.

Guns dont make men

Jesse Gonzalez: this is more of that hippie bull shit. fuck jim carrey he can take his ass back to canada.

Kirk Berryhill: Jesse, he's got a point. Its those Fucking gun nuts. If it wasn't for Lanza's nutbag mama who was a survivalist and warped her son's mind with her anti-government bullshit, those kids might be alive. All those idiots stockpiling assault weapons in their 8X8 bunkers like the vietnam vet who shot the school bus driver and kidnapped the five year old ARE THE PROBLEM. More guns for these pussies aint the solution. If all these paranoid badasses weren't so chickenshit about the sky falling on them, they might actually lead valuable lives where the contribute to society rather than readying themselves for the zombie apocalypse. Death aint something to fear. Its just part of life. These people need make the world better, not sit around waiting for it to go to shit til they lose their minds and start offing innocent people...

 

I like guns, they are cool, like cars are cool, like transformers are cool. I dont like them because they give me a sense of control or power- I just like gadgets, i like metal fabrication, i love the artistry of a subtle curve and a well designed grip.

 

Guns are kinda neat, like swords- but i don't need one to make me a man. Because they don't make you into a man. Life ain't a western. And I don't need to kill anyone to make my life any longer than it already is. Guns are just for killing. And, although i'm not afraid of killing, its just not a goal in my life. Any idiot can kill someone. Being a man is conquering your fear and being better than it. The world will be a better place without weapons that can snuff out a life with less effort than it takes a person to wave his hand. And if you can't see that, well, I hope you get there someday. Because its not the people like me that make this world worse.

 

Think beyond your little life. Get God, Get Perspective, Get Love- Get something- MORE - than fantasizing and worrying about killing others before they kill you.

 

If that's ALL you got- damn, that aint a lot.

 

Life in a shell is hardly any life at'all