Monday, January 20, 2014

The Dreamer Journal

The Dreamer journal had a Boris Vallejo painting on the cover- Dragon Slayer.

I wrote this explanation on page 1 of the journal:

The Cover; why?:
Myself, against the powers of the unknown, striving to defeat that which is, binding the logic that holds man back and using it to unveil new (and old) mysteries.

On the inside cover I wrote this dedication from a collection of the Marquis de Sade's writing I had:

"My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved. Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others! My manner of thinking stems straight from my considered reflections; it holds with my existence, with the way I am made. It is not in my power to alter it; and were it, I'd not do so. This manner of thinking you find fault with is my sole consolation in Life; It alleviates all my sufferings in prison, it composes all my pleasures in the world outside, it is dearer to me than life itself. Not my manner of thinking, but the manner of thinking of others has caused my unhappiness. The reasoning man who scorns the prejudices of simpletons necessarily becomes the enemy of simpletons; he must expect as much, and laugh at the inevitable.

The Marquis De Sade

On the Dedication/Title page I wrote the following:

For Enlightenment, Entertainment
In the interest of furthering my own knowledge of myself, life and my thoughts of the cohesive spirits which hold all together-  Fade 10/13/93

Entry 2, Book of Love journal

August 20, 1994

We love each other. All those years that I practiced arrogance and mistrust, all the times I hurt others in order to not be hurt, All my life-pretending not to know love, afraid of it, unsure of all that it held for my future. All my Life, Love is all that I ever wanted...

- And so suddenly those dreams were answered -

... So, why am I alone, here writing in a dark room, regretting my failures- to trust, to commit and to love her as unconditionally as she does me?

Fool. Vain, Selfish, and simply stupid. What a total fool I have been... I've been twisted into worshipping sex and style and materials rather than trust and happiness- and LOVE

I can't believe that I'm still learning new things about relationships and love, when I thought that I knew it all, long ago...

Learning even now, I can't believe that I've been shutting everything down, just existing, I haven't even been in full control. Everything's been on autopilot.

Well, I'm back, Let's see if I can pull us out...

Let's see if we can pull us out.

April 1999 - Skeleton Journal

1st entry, Skeleton Journal 4/18/99

Well, since my other books are poems, thoughts, dreams,etc. I will just make this one a simple journal. Document my daily tribulations and whatnot. Here goes...

It's a Sunday night, about 10:45. Andrea and I are the only ones here, Steve Wariner is playing on the stereo, the haunting yet optimistic song "Holes in the floor of Heaven.". A whole lot happened this weekend. Too damn much, in fact. Started off Friday with Clayton and Bubba going to jail. No big deal there. A little respite for me, actually- and hopefully some meaningful reflection for the two of them. It's hard to write about this because I have talked to about ten people this weekend about those two, and it's getting to be a stale conversation. Suffice it to say: They have screwed up for the last time- (well at least around me). Clayton is supposed to get out around midnight tonight. I had decided to tell him to go someplace else. but I don't really know exactly what I will do until I do it. I can't take care of my friends indefinitely. Even though they don't seem to have a problem with it (Yah right).

Andrea is right at seven and a half months pregnant now. She is expecting a girl. Amethyst Sky Berryhill- Amy for short. If it was a boy, the name was to be Tristan Cain. But it looks like a girl. My first daughter- and Andrea's first child. We have just about everything we need, changing table, carseats, stroller, etc,etc, etc. It hasn't been a bad pregnancy. Andrea hasn't been a bit of trouble, like all my married friends have said. Of course, Andrea isn't a bitch, like your normal woman. She really is a gem. I thank god or whoever is responsible for bringing her to me every time that I curl up next to her at night. She has been dealing with this latest crisis quite well. I think that she has wanted me to put my foot down long ago, but bless her heart, she trusts me to do the right thing without any undue (or due) nagging.

Anyway, I don't want to go on and on about my troubles. I worked on the yard all day, after taking Andrea out to Zoo-kini's restaurant for lunch. We relaxed at home, made love and started to watch a movie, What Dreams May Come. Ric and Cyndi showed up and watched with us. The movie was great, really a thought provoking one. It was the kind of movie that makes you set back and take stock of what you have in life. I am happy to have two wonderful sons and a wife that I thought couldn't possibly exist. And I appreciate their love, and their very existence very much. They ARE my life. Well. its getting late, and I'm getting tired. I guess this is a weird way to start a journal, but there it is... Bye.

Entry 2  Skeleton Journal 4/19/99
Quick Entry: I'm surfing the internet, drinking Mickies left over from the weekend. Andrea's taking a bath. I just won an argument about Ally Mcbeal - about the John "Guy's" age. Yes! I rule! Anyway- I just remembered my new journal thingie and decided to enter something over not writing in the damn thing at all- (Dedication Baby! Aren't you jealous?) Alright gotta go! - Kirk

Sunday, January 19, 2014

And they read...

I've decided to transcribe my personal journals into the Tubez... There are three main ones, the Dreamer journal, the 'book of love', and the skeleton journal. I've no plan how to do this, i'll just transcribe entries as I see fit.

This is the first thing that I wrote into the "Book of Love" undated-

...And they read, and they laughed- They scorned his writings as non-intellectual, hypocritical, and nonsensical-
But they didn't understand.

He laughed at himself, with himself and for himself. He knew that nothing mattered, as he knew his writings didn't... Even though they meant everything to him, He knew to everyone else it would all be gobbledy-gook, unintelligible gibberish.

He Cared Not. The writing was his salvation- the EXPLANATION, the all-important explanation for life, for living,... Without that expression, he was nothing. - Oblivion in a shell.

- In His world- He was God. He was all. Not arrogantly, not selfishly- but in order to save his heart, and his being- he had to become his own god-

And so, he did...
He did.
He was.
He IS.

And ever will be, in spirit,

                          His own god...

Chasin mah tail

Forever chasing the women who don't need me.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate her honesty. She doesn't pretend. She don't blow smoke, much as I'd like her to. She's not troubled by these damnable illusions- That I love so fucking much... Or- If she is- it's not something that she shares with her lover. Because, that's what I am. I suspect (Strongly) that this is what I'm damned/destined to be- in her world.

LOL- "She's just not that into YOU"

At least we have the SEX- And, mind you, it IS ALL CAPS SEX. Its not just good, its MF-ing Awesome. So, for once, I'm trying to trade UP on that.

Trying to get a woman to Love me- for the Sex...

The irony is NOT lost on me. Ha! She's in bed- and I'm up Writing/drinking. I KNOW the answer. I just don't want to accept it.



Retrospect - haiku

Dark Passions Dying
Thoughts of a Time I still cared
Slow death of a Fool


Carnations and Cash

She told me that she liked the flowers, but that she'd prefer Gifts that she can hold on to.


Deja Vu - I've heard this conversation before. It broke my heart the first time- And it breaks my heart again...

The Gift in "Flowers" is not only a gift, its a lesson- and, damn, its almost starting to feel like a test. Apparently one that the women that I chase after fail.

If she's doing the mental math to consider what I could have bought for her = instead of those damn, dying flowers- well... I don't want to dwell on that, too much.

It's at that point that she 'lost' me- or at least lost a part of my respect. You either get it, or you don't.

I'm not going to explain it.

I'll take a woman who prefers flowers to Diamond- ANY DAY.

- if I can find one...



The Weakling by REH

I thought that I had everything that REH had ever published, but ran across this gem posted on Weird Tales magazine's FB page... Perfect!

"The Weakling" by Robert E. Howard

  I died in sin and forthwith went to Hell;
I made myself at home upon the coals...
Where seas of flame break on the cinder shoals.
Till Satan came and said with angry yell,
"You there - divulge what route by which you fell."
"I spent my youth among the flowing bowls,
"Wasted my life with women of dark souls,
"Died brothel-fighting - drunk on muscatel."

Said he, "My friend, you've been directed wrong:
"You've naught to recommend you for our feasts -
"Like factory owners, brokers, elders, priests;
"The air for you! This place is for the strong!
"Then as I pondered, minded to rebel,
He laughed and forthwith kicked me out of Hell.