a temporary distraction

2011-09-08T19:36:00.001-06:00

A cousin of mine killed himself today. I cannot, for the life of me, remember what he looked like or who he was.
This seems strange to me.

2011-08-13T18:21:00.001-06:00

Oh yeah. This thing.

Life is very short and there's no time.

2011-04-03T22:58:00.002-06:00

I reach for the leaf as it falls, miss and catch it roughly with the other hand. It crumples under my overeagerness. It finds its way to my dilating nostrils. The smell is intoxicating, moist, alive, like fall before the wonderful smells it brings have had time to ferment and germinate the air. For a moment I am my younger self running through my grandmothers back yard, as yet unencumbered by the pains and responsibilities of adulthood. I hear her wavering voice call my name - time to come in. Then, just as abruptly, I am back to the real world. I glance downward, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. A granite slab stares back at me. There are words and numbers engraved in it; my grandmothers name, Irene Ocamb, and the two dates society sees as her most important. The mason added the words "our grandma" on it, for validation I suppose. I try to pull some bit of emotion from this stark memorium and draw a blank.
When my parents used to drag me here in younger years I'd watch, standing awkwardly, as they would address the stone as a living entity, giving it updates. "We miss you so much" they'd tell it "you should see how big the kids have gotten". Always positive. Never "Matt failed another class, we just don't get it. He's so smart. Rather, "In a few years they'll be able to drive to see you own their own." That hadn't happened until today. I made the long drive and stood, now in my 30's, trying just as unsuccessfully to feel like this was normal or, at very least, served some sort of purpose toward the fulfillment of my, or her, soul. The breeze picked up and as I pulled my jacket closer to me I looked around. A few families scattered here and there on the lot, cars respectfully waiting silent. A woman was crying, held by a husband who, upon noticing my intrusion, gave me a "what can you do?" kind of look.
Someone once said you can judge the progress of a culture by how they treat their dead. I wondered where that left me, seemingly bereft of graceful connection to those who'd passed. I was aware that below me lay my grandmothers physical remains, such as they were, but I could not reconcile that boxful of 'things' as having anything to do with the boisterous, generous, and funny woman I'd known and loved. As I mentally chewed on the disconnect it struck me that it was, perhaps, better to judge progress based on the way a culture treated its living instead.
I knelt and cleared some grass from the edges of the marker. I swept dust off with my hand, feeling nothing but cold stone. I turned and headed toward my car, walking slowly, as I felt was proper. "I know you can't hear me any better or worse here" I thought "but I did love you and miss you. I'm sorry I wasn't the grandson I should've been."

IX

2011-03-27T23:02:00.002-06:00

The alarm kicked on. He sat upright. Today's jarring annoyance played the pixies. The song: Wave of Mutilation. He was alone, which was not altogether uncommon. Something felt off, though, and not just that the alarm was going off on a Saturday. Something was wrong. He tried to tell himself it was just the grogginess. Maybe he'd been having a bad dream before he awoke. He shuffled, semi-conscious, for the kitchen. Coffee. Coffee would soothe his unease. As he passed his daughters room he noticed the door partially cracked. Very unusual. He glanced in. What a mess. He'd have to talk to her (again, he thought, exasperated) about leaving her shit flung all around the room. He continued on, stewing. As he stepped across the threshold of the kitchen something in his brain chimed. The wrongness made sense. All was clear. He whirled with a fathers primal roar and flew to her room. Still empty. This particular mess wasn't random. This was the entire contents of her closet emptied on her bed. He was sure a few days worth of outfits were missing. He was also sure, as he found his cellphone and dialed his wife with trembling hands, that she wasn't going to answer. The bitch. After years of threats she'd finally done it. His selfish brain cliecked to life. All those thousands of dollars for rehab. All the wasted hours. Late nights holding and comforting her through craving and withdrawal. The disgust he had as he watched her fail over and over again. The other men. The jobs he'd lost, unable to support both. The blood tests. Worst of all, the trauma it must've inflicted on their daughter - his angel. He knew this was the last straw. There would be no reconciliation, no matter the ferocity of her tears or the sincerity of her promises. Hell, if she were near enough to be found he might just end the whole problem himself.
Close to 300 miles away a strung-out woman was checking into a shitty little motel. A young girl slept, oblivious, in the car outside. She gave the counter-boy, a young Mexican kid maybe half her age, cash. His cash. She smiled nervously as the boy handed her the key, cracked a bad joke. He looked at her blankly. Somewhere in the back of his head he thought she must've been pretty when she was his age. That looked like long, long ago. She toyed with the idea of asking if he knew where to score but decided against. She had enough to get by for a little while and she'd be wise to play it straight for a bit. Not so wise, though, that she didn't steal away to an empty courtyard after putting her daughter in their shared bed.
He paced frenetically, the devil in his eyes. He downed a half mug of lukewarm coffee in one gulp. He'd spent the day alternating between this state and that of abject depression. He'd sit, near comatose, racing mind, and tears dripping regularly from the edges of his bloodshot eyes. All was lost. All was lost. He picked up the phone, dialed, and cleared his throat. "I know it hasn't been 24 hours yet but I need to file a preliminary missing persons report please" All business here. A teenage girl bubbled on the other end, trying to sound grave. "yes..it's my daughter." "She.." At this his composure faltered. "My crackhead wife has taken her." More noise. "Listen ma'am, if i knew where they were you'd be getting an entirely different type of call right now" The coldness of his voice sent a chill down her entire body. It was terrifying and, she had to admit, more than a little arousing. She wished she could be there to hold him, envelop his pain. "I'm going to need to confirm your address, sir" she said, trying to withhold the tremor in her voice. She crossed her legs. She really loved her job.

VIII

2011-03-27T22:49:00.003-06:00

She looked around the room, moving cautiously. The posters on the wall were dusty and curled at the edges. Here was Siouxsie and her Banshees, there New Order. There were the inevitable collages, magazine clippings, and trinkets organized to show love for their subjects. Old crushes, absent friends, bands whose songs she could only vaguely recall (she thought maybe for the best). She ran a finger over some of the faces, tracing old fantasies of kisses and adventure.
The bed kicked up a cloud when she fell onto it. She watched bits of dust float and swirl in the sliver of light coming through the blinds. In the stillness of the room it looked otherworldly, as though the universe was moving in slow motion. The groove of the mattress, the slight creak of the elderly frame, the whisper of the fabric beneath her all served to rip her back to those old times, moreso, even, than the faces staring at her from all surfaces of the room. This room, untouched for so long, a reliquary in her name.
The night they left was mostly a blur to her. It was humid, unsensibly hot. She'd been lying on the same bed daydreaming about god knows what. She lay there safe, somewhat comfortably ensconced. She had Skynyrd playing, her love for them her fathers gift to her. As she was being told to be a simple kind of man, the world around her was imploding. When her mom burst into the room she let out a little frightened, and offended, squeal. She looked old and worried. Her already sunken and lined face looked easily ten years older than usual. She looked into her mothers crazed eyes, then down to the garbage bag in her hands.
"We're leaving" was all she got. "go get in the car"
She did as she was told. She might even have fallen asleep for a few minutes. Her mother sped down the interstate, passing cars at wildly inappropriate speeds, hands white and blotchy, jerking the wheel to delay death. Her mother started talking about something or other so she put her headphones on, pressed play, and tuned out.
Mom was a drug addict. Methhead. Over the next few years they floated from hotel to hotel, crashpad to dirty crashpad. She took it in stride, sinking deeper within herself. When mom didn't come home for days she taught herself the fine art of ramen-based cuisine. She was a scavenger in her living space, learning to forage and survive. When the seedy men mom brought home tried to grope her she quickly learned their weaknesses. There were spots you could lightly touch a man that'd have him writhing on the ground in agony before his brain had even registered what happened, if you could believe that. Usually this earned her a beating. She was pretty, but looked gaunt unless mother and daughter were side-by-side.
The real evil of meth addiction isn't the horrific mental and physical changes it makes in people. It's not the lifestyle or speech pattern changes, nor the cracked and blackening teeth. Any serious drug affects all facets of its habitual users life but, with most, upon taking covenant with it, the user acknowledges a certain shelf life. Few and far between are the long-term hardcore users because their herd is naturally thinned. Meth has left a legacy of broken homes, broken souls, violence, and theft..but this is not it's curse. The true evil of meth addiction is that it doesn't kill off its host, leaving society tasked with catering to addled and often dangerous zombie or worse - annoying "born-agains"
The pair continued on for years, uprooting constantly, always changing names, hairstyles, and people. She began to forget her previous life, thinking this must be how all people live. Her education having been cut short, she took to devouring books, magazines, wall posters, anything with words. It was during these years, when so often left to her own devices, that she discovered her affinity, no, her absolute and unbridled passion, for water.

VII

2011-03-27T15:49:00.003-06:00

She writhes and twists, eyes closed. A slight grin calms her face. "Here I am again" she thinks. "I needed this." The cold waters part before her. She kicks off and wrests her limbs into patterns, forming grace and vision with her torso. Were anyone there to see they might have been awed. She was a natural, beautiful and efficient. Each long reach pulled her nearer her destination than that of her imagined opponents, her hands cutting the surface like they were designed solely for that purpose.
Her exercises were done. She lay back in the water letting her screaming muscles relax. She dipped and held, letting it overtake her. Each beat of her heart filled her eardrums with a wooshing sound. Her feet hung low below the surface. Her breasts broke water with each measured breath she took. They were well shaped and she was proud of them. She wasn't alone in this. Her tendency to send pictures of them to her male friends endeared her to them. She did this, of course, in all innocence, never realizing the rush of blood it tended to inspire. She was always confused at the advances they made at her, and slightly repulsed. "But you're my friend" she'd say. Their faces would drop as quickly as their egos, both hitting the floor simultaneously. She'd throw them a heartbreaking smile, apologetic but unswayed. Stupid boys and their silly crushes.
She never dated, never flirted excessively, never fucked. This had the confusing effect of giving her a reputation not only as a 'frigid bitch' but also as a less reputable type of girl. She neither bothered nor cared to remedy this. Shattered boys fell by the wayside and new ones popped up, figuring they would fare differently. They never did.
The mirror was foggy but she still appreciated the shape staring back at her. Her feet were cold on the wet tile and her hair lay a chill trail where it rested on her back. The swim had been good, even necessary, but now she felt a hollowness taking over. Small hairs pricked up on the back of her neck. She wiped a spot in the mirror with her forearm and peered closer. Her face was punctuated by two dead eyes. She forced a smile but only her lower face complied. "What's wrong with me?" she thought. "Where did I disappear to?" She'd half expected a worded response from the fuzzy her but it remained maddeningly silent. It obediently blinked and brushed hair from her face. It applied clothes and makeup but offered no advice or solace.
Her drive was silent. She'd been too absentminded to plug her iPod in. She made the turns with no emotion. Her stomach grumbled, demanding attention. She'd burned calories she didn't have and now it was time to pay them back. "Shut up stomach" she thought, finally noticing the lack of music. She cranked it on not caring what noise came. Another rumble now, one that said "Feel me damnit." She hadn't eaten in almost three days. She was trying to lose a bulge nobody but she could see.
A man stood on the corner with a sign. He also hadn't eaten in multiple days. She tried to avoid eye contact, pretending to fidget with..well, nothing. He knew. He'd seen it thousands of times. Without knowing exactly why, he was enraged at this particular slight. He glowered and shifted feet. She hoped the light would change quickly. Without trying to be too obvious she clicked the lock engaged. The man tried to approach, stumbled. Thank the gods for rotgut. She looked over with a start as he fell face-first on the sidewalk. The light changed. She floored it. "Close one" she sighed aloud. "perv."
Back at home her stomach grumbled again when she walked past her fridge. She opened the door and looked lustfully inside. Everything looked satisfying, if not completely delicious. The leftover pastries looked especially enticing with their cream cheese filling. She bit the corner of her lip poutily and closed the door. The light smacking sound signaled the beginning of the worlds spin. She needed water, rest..what she really needed was there, a mere arms length away from her. She reached out, half steadying, half seeking, found the handle. It was as her fingers closed around it that her body gave out. She dropped to the floor bringing the contents of the now open door with her. Had she been a salad or pork rib she would've been well basted. But she wasn't. She was perfect, she was beautiful. She was not supposed to be lying on the kitchen floor crying, covered in condiments. She deserved so much more. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement in the shadows. Her mind jumped to the man from earlier. Here he was, ready to have his revenge. Briefly she wondered if the news report would mention the blue cheese that trickled between her toes. She propped herself up shakily. "Hello?" her voice barely a whisper. "Who's there?" At her voice the figure came toward her. Hannibal, her cat. She sighed and crashed back to the floor. The last thing she felt before sleep overtook her was the sandpaper tongue working at the corner of her eye.

VI

2011-03-27T15:39:00.002-06:00

My skin, cold to the touch. I run distracted hand over an arm, feel the flesh diminish. Pull a thin hood over my head. Below me my city groans, rumbles, flickers mildly. The air is crisp but not uncomfortable, almost winter but not quite. I close my eyes and lose myself in the breeze, let it wash over me and open myself to it. The night is illuminated by a nearly full moon. The hike easy, almost comfortable, and I stand casting a bluish pall in the middle of nowhere. She whispers softly to me, pulls me near to steal my warmth. I'm sure she thinks of it as 'sharing'. Her presence pulls me away from my much needed emptiness but she calms me still. I turn to face her and look through her. Pale skin, lips slightly purple, gorgeous. The corner of her mouth upturns unconsciously and I'm struck with a thought: I don't deserve her. Such my common mentality, my social hangnail, and something I try to hide while occasionally outwardly proclaiming it.
I pull her in for a kiss and feel her melt a little. Her body goes slack in my enveloping arms. "I love you" I whisper as I kiss my way up toward her earlobe. Her hot breath in the crook of my neck condenses almost instantly. We tremble. Her breaths become deep and ragged. We drink each other greedily. I push her to half-arms length, lids heavy. "Do you want to-" I begin, casting eyes back toward the city, toward warmth. She cuts me off. "No, I don't." "Are you sure? You're freezing."
My slight disappointment fades as she steps back and slowly, cutely, unbuttons her shirt. She smiles, shivers a little, invites me in.

Writing exercise/block killer5

2011-03-08T23:52:00.002-07:00

He builds this fiction, this shell of causality, pretends he's civilized. Pretends he's human. We all know it. They all do it. Throughout mans' dark and storied evolution we've lain dormant. They always think they're good, safe, and we always surface at the most inopportune of moments.
Take a minute, if you will, and examine the knuckles surrounding you. Better yet, dig deep into the eyes of a stranger. Cast a withering glance or a sharp word into the ether and you'll see me there, floating in the undercurrent.
He so often forgets me. He is surprised and awkward at my presence. Sometimes he feels like things might just be better if he surrendered to me. I live and thrive independent of these things.
Today we do battle and unfortunately he outwills me. He returns home and collapses into a sorrowful, quivering heap. He is exhausted but cannot place why.

Writing exercise/block killer4

2011-03-08T23:40:00.002-07:00

'Love me' I say. I shout it quietly but constantly. I will theworld to throw me something, anything, convinced that the smallest scrap would serve to sate some of the vacuum inside. But it never does.
I look up. Across from me is a man. Strange, I hadn't even noticed anyone come in. He reads, obviously waiting for someone. I remember moments of not-so-veiled threats. My shoulders tense..more than they already have been. Catch myself chewing a rough patch on the inside of my lip. Become awash in the memory of feelings that were, at the time, overwhelming. Strange how intense the relics can be even after the immediacy and, truly, even the residual had faded. I wonder at the value of these evocative moments. At that moment, long past, the genetic imperative of my feelings was readily apparent; justifiable. But now? What purpose does this irrational anger, this will to violence serve?
I am, of course, a rational man, and would be hard pressed to act on such things, but the thought itches my brain. I am troubled by its continued existence. I am troubled by the why of it. Perhaps more tellingly I am troubled by the ease at which my rationality has vanished, replaced by the lizard brain.
He sees me, looks slightly uncomfortable. Good. I keep a stone face but I'm sure my eyes burn. Hands shake slightly. Maybe the coffee. A busboy clears tables efficiently, wordless, his slick apron evoking recent horror movies. More violence. I watch him work, his face also stone. He remains entirely focused. In spite of the distraction I can't clear my head. I think about him-the other guy that is, and the lizard wants to ruin his life.

Writing exercise/block killer3

2011-03-06T19:33:00.002-07:00

Everything around him burned. He sat calmly, breathing in the smoke, waiting to be overtaken. Flames licked at his paralised feet and he felt nothing. He tried to conjure the sensation of pain as his sole began to melt. He'd picked a soundtrack for this end but in the heat his stereo warbled and finally died, leaving him alone with the mumbling of the immolation.
Flame became fluid and he realized, waking with a start, that he'd fallen asleep before relocating for high tide. He stood groggily, brushing off mites and sandy patches. His toes squished sensually into the cold muck. A fish flopped nearby - praying to drown. He moved and obliged it.
The moon was nearly full and the whole of the beach was illuminated cerulean. He fought off waves of pleasure and happiness. He fought off the thought of this calm peacefulness. Now wasn't the time. He wanted to put on his socks and his 'real people clothes' but they'd apparently washed away. Stupid. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Clothes gone. Time gone. He checked his watch. 3am. Friends would all be sleeping. He needed something. Someone. He was cold. He shuffled to his car, safely parked and waiting, grabbed his spare from the wheelwell and got in. The click was telltale, his frustration palpable. He would be walking home in his board shorts. Surely enough he was catcalled and pelted with remnants by semi-drunk motorists, who were more than likely returning from a much better evening than he'd had. He tried to imagine their stories but his irritation turned them all into monsters. Drunks, rapists, despicable folk.
He booted his door open and ran for the bathroom, making it just in time to unleash a torrent of vomit into its best receptacle. He passed out again somewhere between there and his bedroom, silent but for the occasional outburst.
'Dude are you ok?'
He rolled onto his side.
'Hey! What the hell man? You alright?'
He sat up, groaning like an old man.
'Yeahimfine...whatareyoudoing...' he looked around '..here?'
'I was driving by and your door was open. Haven't seen you for a while - wanted to make sure you were like, alive.'
'Fuck. I'm alive. Can i not be anymore?'
His friend helped him up and they moved to the kitchen where, in a matter of a minute or two, water was boiling and coffee waiting to be pressed.
'Rough night eh?'
'Must've been. Last i remember was some girl dancing on a table'
From there they moved outside for a smoke. He was blinded and struggled to mount his shades to his face. His friend looked him in the eyes, hesitant, and looked away before faltering with words. He quickly quieted.
'What is it? You have something. Say it already.'
'So..I wasn't just randomly driving by this morning.'
'Ah, stalking me huh. I knew you--'
'Look, this feels totally lame and you're probably going to hate me for this and push us all even further away'
He cast eyes downward, willing words to come.
'We're all really worried about you man.'
'Oh come on.'
Anger welled. God..this again.
'I know you don't like to..that you're not much of a talker, but...
Honestly man, when i saw your door I didn't know if you'd even be alive to have this talk with.'
'Thanks mom. Should i be sure to be home before 9 tonight? Call you before i go anywhere?'
'Yeah, funny. This is serious. Everyone's seen. We all know what you're going through. Everyone is here to support you. We just want you to be ok, you know?'
'You know...'
He bit his lip - hard, stood up and rested his hands on the balcony, back to his concerned friend. His 'best friend'.
'You don't know a goddamn thing about what I'm going through. You think you know me? Understand me? Give me a break. You don't. And spare me your little worry party while you're at it. It's stress. I neither need, nor want it.'
The friend cringed; hurting, reeling at the sudden venom in his voice.
'We're your friends. We're supposed to be here to help.'
'Yeah well..you're here. Thanks. But you can't help me.'
'Why don't you let us try?'
He stopped momentarily, calming himself with measured breaths.
'You've all been more friend than a guy like me deserves, or has any right to ask for.'
He cleared his throat, coughed a little. His friend sat a bit straighter. Maybe this tone change was progress. The two made eye contact.
'I don't need any of you. If you knew me we wouldn't be having this stupid conversation day after day. I feel like I'm fucking ambushed at every turn.'
His friend was the angry one now.
'Fuck you. We do this because we love you. And maybe we'd know you if you ever fucking let us'
He smirked, knowing this would be over soon. He pulled the glasses down,l sat, rested his head against the wall. His friend thought that, in spite of it all, he looked like a picture from an old poster; the wasted, weary antihero.
Without opening his eyes he said "you know as much of me as you need to. It's obviously worth something, right?'
'Right. Of course.'
'Great so..let me finish here...you either take me as I am or you can go to hell..the lot of you.'
He nodded toward the front door.
'So either beat it already or bum me as smoke and go get the Jack out of the freezer. We're celebrating.'
He caught the cig and lit it, inhaling thoughtfully.
'What are we celebrating?'
'Your reluctant but ever-so-wise decision to stay in my world.
We celebrate your brilliance and my fucked-upness.'
He flashed a smile that involved more of a sardonic lip with upturned eyebrows than teeth and joy, threw back a swig from the bottle, and passed it.
'Salud.'
'You're an asshole.'
'Love me.'

Writing exercise/block killer2

2011-02-27T11:52:00.002-07:00

Everything was blurry. He smiled big, silly, bared his fangs in pretense of 'ok'-ness. He was drunk again. The whiskey burning through his veins was 'ok'. Two of his friends hit the floor laughing hysterically. He was laughing. Nothing made sense. Nothing had to. And so it rode.
All around him, the vestiges of a good time and his..room was spinning. A pretty girl smiled at him as he stumbled by..or was that laughed at him? None of that mattered now. He felt as though, if he didn't make it into the cold air, his heart might burst.
Outside were a few small cliques. He gave an obligatory nod and lit up a smoke, staying close enough to not elicit a reaction, but not close enough that either party felt motivated to converse. The chill air brought him to more level-headedness. Not sober. Not going to purge, either.
He finished his cigarette and threw it. Somehow he was alone, hadn't even noticed everyone else leave. It was foggy, humid, and the moist air felt like a compression suit around his chest. He looked around, absorbing his surroundings. The world looked like a suspense movie. Were a horde of monsters to tear around the corner and approach, he wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest. He turned and walked to the house, pausing for one last glance before he opened the door.
The house was dark, empty. Piles of unidentifiable masses loomed, lazily menacing. He stumbled to what seemed like a bathroom, peed in a corner, and shuffled toward the only visible source of light. In his head the ambient noise of a party still droned on. He closed the fridge and entered the living room. Ghostly figures swept past him. The pretty girl smiled and wisped away. He rubbed his eyes. The room was brightly lit now and full of life. The suns warmth radiated golden on the plants in the window. Her plants. He rubbed again and it was night. The plants shone waxy in the moonlight. He fondled their leaves sadly. There was a wetness to them. He held a hand up to his face. Darkness. His tongue lashed out in a way some might describe as 'snakelike'. He tasted copper; pennies on his lips and tongue. Stepping closer to the window he found a spot of light and looked down. Blood. Everywhere. Covering everything. He gagged, swayed dizzily, and sputtered like a child.
She flipped the light switch and found him sobbing in front of the window.
She flipped the light switch. He looked up. The bulb shattered. His life shattered. He found his way to the doorway, ran through it, but felt himself yanked back roughly. He hit the floor hard. Through the pain her face slowly resolved. She smirked. He kissed her, fell through the floor, and quickly evaporated.

Smoke rose lazily, acrid and evil. The man peered into it, trying to find its soul. Failing that, he imagined how his face must look in the glow. Fresh-split logs crackled and popped. Little ash fireflies spiraled and danced for him. His stomach grumbled; empty. He considered howling at the moon, crying his existence, but was overtaken in a wash of self consciousness.
His food sizzled in its foil cocoon, its smell maddening him, salivating him. His orange hands stoked the fire, his lips made a silent prayer, and at that moment all was well. He was alive where previously he hadn't the desire. He was healthy tho he'd been sick. He was (by choice only) alone in the vastness of stone and water. He pulled his hood and hugged himself tighter, his back untouched by the warmth of his fire. HIS fire, which finally burned again. Crickets sung their maddening symphony and somewhere, in a directionless impossibility, an awl coo'd.
There was life everywhere and he was playing parasite; a vampire intruder suckling on freedom, intensity, and the way things should be. Out here was the path he never should have left behind. Out here was the great purge of the modern torment. A smile, an unheard echo.
She didn't cross his mind once.

Writing exercise/block killer

2011-02-20T23:36:00.004-07:00

"you can't just leave me like this"
The tears flowed freely. His chin did that stupid quivery thing- the one that almost melted her. He hated it: hated displaying such weakness, such...humanity.
Sure he was the first to admit, even point out, his shortcomings but this was completely different. He sank to the floor awash in loss. Pleading, begging, he cast eyes toward her.
I haven't done anything wrong. Thought or spoken? Unknown.
Words escaped her lips, those perfect lips, swollen and flush with emotion. She spoke with forced composure but aside from her tics and the quavering in her voice he did not pick up meaning in it. God, those lips. His mind leapt to the last time they'd...no. That was inappropriate right now. Wasn't it?
Her hand brushed his arm. He reflexively closed his eyes, took the moment in. Her touch awakened him momentarily and he almost smiled.
They were driving now. It was summer. With the windows open her hair blew into her face. She brushed it away, somehow both absentminded and irritatedly.
"where are you right now?" she asked. "What were you just thinking?"
"nothing"
..nothing at all.
He was thinking stupid things again, crazy things. Lately mortality rocked his psyche. Death was at every turn just waiting to ambush him. Each ache, every pain was malignant. Everyone was out to get him. So he got lost often, trapped by his bleeding insecurity.
As he sat there slowly dying she began a germination...well, two really - but that's neither here nor there yet. She looked at this boy she was sure she'd loved and began to find him unattractive, appalling, even. Every subtle sigh the world elicited from him irked her. Life wasn't that bad, really. Not all that bad at all. She was young and attractive, vibrant, and never suffered for it.
The seed sprouted and roots took hold. Her repulsion became evident to all around but him. When he'd rest a loving hand on her thigh, or would whisper to her how beautiful she looked she had to fight back the urge to gag. Occasionally she would visibly cringe. Everyone noticed. Nothing was said.

The two lovers lay together clenched in sleeps sweet embrace. He abruptly shook and let out a cry. The cry woke, and chilled, her. It was primal, terrifying, childlike. She sat up and squeezed his hand but he slept, unaware his trespass.

She knew then she had to leave him.

In the morning he woke to a freezing room. He body wasn't warming him. He flopped onto his back and pulled an arm over his face, lost for a moment of private doom. He sat up, dizzy, feeling exhausted. He rubbed his eyes reflexively as he shuffled to their coffeemaker, poured himself a cup, and found her on the patio smoking. She looked as tired as he felt.
"how long have you been up?"
"few hours"
They sat, shriveled, insomniac. He knew something was off. He wanted desperately to make her laugh - to flash that smile that fueled his failing world, but couldn't muster the positivity required. They conversed as old couples do; mostly familiar noises and subdued acknowledgments. She stared past him. He tried to locate the core of her via those sleepy portals. Failing that, he tried to pour his all into his. He needed her to see and understand. He pushed her his world, the unexplainable sorrow, the terror, the insurmountable loss that was existence. More importantly, he pushed the warmth that was his love for her. That warmth, his shining beacon in a world of pitch. Please understand this he thought, desperate. please understand me
She sat upright abruptly, eyes finally focusing in on him.
"have sex with me."

2011-01-25T23:10:00.001-07:00

"Language is my mother, my father, my husband, my brother, my sister, my whore, my mistress, my checkout girl. Language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or handy freshen-up wipe-ette. Language is the breath of God. Language is the dew on a fresh apple. It's the soft rain of dust that falls into a shaft of morning light as you pluck from an old bookshelf a half-forgotten book of erotic memoirs. Language is the creak on a stair. It's a spluttering match held to a frosted pane. It's a half-remembered childhood birthday party. It's the warm, wet, trusting touch of a leaking nappy, the hulk of a charred panzer, the underside of a granite boulder, the first downy growth on the upper lip of a Mediterranean girl. It's cobwebs long since overrun by an old Wellington boot." - from a bit of Fry and Laurie

nothing. never. nobody.

2010-11-08T21:39:00.000-07:00

and the beat rolls on
the beat that used to be where my heart is just keeps walking, keeps moving,
slides like mad gaze into the refuge you hold your secrets in
and i'm skinny in soul, not much to talk about
heavy in mind and spirit overlay
short on time and it's like this fucking day will never end.

i walk for miles
through winter solstice, summer agony
through brambles that tear my aging skin to shreds
ribbons to celebrate the death of insanity,
birthed into vanity
and music rises epic bringing blanket-like warmth to this being.
the crescendo threatens to destroy me
but i hold on, aching feet blistering sneer
hollow where my center is feels like such weight
walking solitary dialogue trying to hold it all together

nothing like a pretty girl to bring it all back to zero
nothing like the shiver
as the bourbon loosens this morality

we pound chests, scream like angry primates
this simian rage better suited for movies about angry corpses as illustration
of freud hungry abstractions

I can't sleep, can't breathe
i remember feeling better when i floated on the waves of an aftershock
and there's never any pain in the shame when you've thrown yourself away again.
when the dress hits the floor
and the lip feels the sting of my teeth breaking through the surface
i am the core of you
the everything
fading narrow into half-remembered mythology
jarred back to life by a sight, a smell,
a rogue memory

just a wisp
of an idea

is all i ever was.

2010-04-26T22:31:00.001-06:00

There are so many things I need to say right now

but simply can't.

2010-03-08T22:49:00.002-07:00

He watches his face slowly mist over
it disappears like an old movie fade.
There is a shadow of a man staring at me
naked and featureless.
It moves to speak but voice catches in throat
Tonight i am plagued by the places in my heart.
places that used to be filled by those both living and dead
absent friends and tragic endings
A winter chill bites the air at the end of this springish day
a circular drive
smoking in darkness
alone
but for the ghosts i can't ever seem to leave behind.
revelation careens rampant through my head
chest heaves, heavy.
my grim expression masks a strong desire to cry.
i need to. i want to.
more than anything.
but i find myself unable to this time.
haven't since i left her, struck to the core.
i long for peace
for the cold of my exterior to absorb into the feeling parts.
i am sad
i am a wreck
my words fill a void, a lack of sober brutal honesty
i wonder where the boy who felt he had something
to offer the world has gone.
when did he wake up and realize his dreams
were no more than that?
where did love go?
he is full of so much of it.
love and self loathing
the only two things i'm talented at.
love seems like such an empty concept anymore anyway
wasteful
hurtful
love is hearing how she did those things
love is being told my lack of god makes me
not good enough.
love is leaving goddesses
to preserve my lifestyle, such as it is.
i loathe it
and yet can't imagine a world without it
and it fills me
unchecked and unfocused
drives me to anger and hopelessness
the head pounds still
relentless and unforgiving.
my headache takes on its own personality,
becomes a living tormentor.
songs play quietly,
take me deeper into this hole.
He looks around, surveys his surroundings
the room so unfamiliar
.terrifying.
he pulls his crossed legs close, arms wrap harder
head lowers
pulling small against the pressure of the universe
only makes him feel it that much more.

One day all this could be yours

2010-03-04T23:52:00.001-07:00

He sees and does not follow:
moves but cannot feel:
Jumps:
but is not cliffside.
seek lucidity
find none
lose the rythm (lost in the rythm?)
Rain beats down on his upturned face, into his burning eyes
sliver of silver pierces the cloud
like the shrapnel of pain in his head
he tries to relearn how to smile, to live
but mostly just fakes it.
Thought there would be solace in vast openness
but, standing alone surrounded by natures monolithic architecture,
there is only emptiness
and a vague sense of awe.
He feels his smallness
:insignificance:
stress tears his fingers to shreds
I try so hard to be 'ok'
to get past the betrayal,
this all-consuming emptiness i own.
Funny how I can attribute substance to emptiness.
I dream (while waking) of neutrinos making delicate lines
the soft pitter-patter of subatomic rain
photoplates of the invisible
I dream of matter occupying different states in simultaneous locations
and it's all so fucking confusing
but it all makes perfect sense.
these days our world is a holograph, projection of
a dimentionless line.
these days I am a holograph.
a sickly projection of someones idea of what
"I"
am
or was
or merely appear to be.
"I"
am lost in the deluge
smashed to a billion to the billionth pieces

these days i fear life and death equally
I find i dread yesterday and tomorrow both

And i know this too shall pass
but lord, does it feel like an eternity coming.

HOLLA!

2009-12-24T00:00:00.006-07:00

Without pomp or excessive celebration I, your humble narrator, do proudly and graciously present the 2009 XMAS LIST OF DEATH!!

1. Nasty breakup with my semi-girlfriend
2. Friends aunt dies
3. Friends wife has a brain-tumor
4. Friends father has a brain tumor
5. Friends car gets broken into, stereo destroyed.
6. 2 relatives of co-workers slip into comas within a week of each other.
7. the worst headache of my life decides to hang around for a week and a half (still going)
8. Friends retina detaches and initial surgery does not fix the problem.
9. 2 coworkers' sisters die this week.

there's more but it's all slipped my mind.
happy holidays everybody.

things

2009-12-17T21:43:00.002-07:00

He drives around in a daze. Head a whirlwind.
Music plays; his favorite bands but he feels only mild annoyance
at the distraction proving not good enough.
He shops for christmas, buying gifts for loved ones with
neither joy nor excitement.
He dreads the day.
I pull hard on my nth-too-many cigarette. Look towards mountains
nearly obscured by smog.
He wants to feel.
Stare into oblivion. My head is pounding again.
I dream of finding a purpose to something, anything.
He is an automaton.
I reach out to the void because there's no-one left to save me.
never really was.
no reason to continue, beyond fear of death and some middling sense
of social responsibility.
I grasp at straws.
he grasps at straws,
And I come up empty-handed.
I think to reach out to friends and realize that most are gone,
or so removed i can't share myself
-or he just plain doesn't want to see them.
Run my finger over the smooth surfaces seeking electricity.
nothing.
I feel dead. Don't know what moves my muscles.
-some instinctive drive to perservere maybe?
the wildcate side fighting to surface?
He feels a fleeting moment of joy as he drops off a carful of
gifts he organized, and a half-grand to a childrens shelter
-only to be crushed upon leaving.
crushed at the thought I can't share this with her.
and it's always her.
In my fucked up head. on my fucked up mind.
can't shake this great loss.
For all the bad, my love for her was unmitigated, pure,
and fiercer than ever previous.
He left her.
He couldn't take her abuse anymore.
But i still love her.
And my life is meaningless without her.
And if there were anyone to, they'd tell me it'll pass,
just give it time.
he tried to tell himself that too
but this time feels different.
Worse than my worst breakup
worse than the most agonizing heartbreak of his life
-and he's had a few.
this time he doesn't care about feeling better.
this time he moves on rails.
and in my musings on trying to feel
i'm still not seeking redmption,
merely a temporary distraction. a single crest in
the wave of my forward motion.

This feels like eternity,
like my agony is a frozen frame of a bad movie.
Doomed to flicker and eventually burn through into emptiness.
'Dear god,' I think
'I want my money back'
and my wasted time.
I want to give up on everything.
but this shell keeps moving.
these lungs still painfully intake air
and then exhale.
my heart feels broken. I literally feel the clasp of a fist
around it lately.
but somehow the bastard still beats,
if only out of spite for me.
My head still processes just enough for me to mime my way through
social interactions.
-but in private it pounds so bad he can't even see straight.
he sleeps little, and fitfully.
what are dark circles under most peoples eyes become whiter
patches in mine
-symbol of health
The body still grows and tightens and, in proper lighting, begins to look
like that of a warrior.
and all he wants to do is grind it to burger.
feed it back to the earth.
But the earth turns fine without it.
He longs to disappear.
to sleep, perchance to dream.
...and all that bullshit.
He thinks he hides it well
but everyone keeps asking if i'm ok.
People who know peeople who know someone who knows me
->keep asking if i'm ok.
3rd party worry. concern by-proxy.
such a strange thing.
he feels infected and volitile
But in reality I'm just sad.
.and lonely.
.and tired of this life i find myself in.
every day I feel myself slipping deeper under this sea of melancholy.
I can't even see the shimmer of the surface anymore.
..
.I don't even want to.

Now it's later, Night.
Loneliness coagulates around me, though i'm surrounded by people.
Despair becomes all-encompassing.
I leave my safe haven.
for alcohol.
for something to numb my throbbing existence.
buy a bottle. for myself.
-and it's you and me and a bottle makes three tonight.
..only there is no you.
-only me.
Hate the holidays with a seething passion.
hate the disaster it introduces in my life.
he drives, accidentally (subconsciously?) passing landmarks; ghosts.
I wince physically at the flashes of imagery.
I write in a smile and a tired embrace.
fill lives with terror and sorrow
-on paper.
I punish my characters for the iniquities of my tangible world.
sometimes i feel sorry for them.
thought: now i'm writing fluid, stream-of-conscious.
that thought, however, destroys its revelation.
now i'm consciously thinking about unconsciously writing.
water and oil.
osmotic oppression as metaphor for my head.
where is my mind-where is my mind
where am I?
why isn't it time for whiskey yet?
I am Pavolovs' alcoholic dog
and happily so.
From the dawn of man there has been unhappiness and confusion
and through all of it man has sought to numb it.
We ferment, we fuck, we kill, pray, risk, dream, create, annihlate.
we are seekers who feel we've unlocked the universe on godly beautiful
quantum and physic levels.
we turn to science or god for alpha and omega
and we're still as clueless as the protoplasmic morass
that formed this consciousness.
consciousness: mans great gift?
the worst curse ever inflicted on anything.
Rocks rend, trees wither, water freezes, evaporates, condenses, bonds and splits
all without this idea; awareness.
and all through sane machinations.
that pedestal we claim is a holocaust.
I was born; of this i am fairly certain.
but what am i?
atoms formed into molecules formed into larger and larger
conglomerate systems.
What great work is man?
Give a man too much sodium and his 'personality' changes.
give him too much water, or too little, and he dies.
destroy a few cells and he has no memory.
All we are is a great number of complex interactions and we, as our components,
are part of greater unseen systems.
I am an amino acid in a cell broken down and reused
-not a beautiful and unique snowflake.
-or so it goes.
He smiles at a friend but doesn't mean it.
He grits his teeth.
I wash myself in copious amounts of nicotine and caffiene in the meantime.
I smoke.
I attack my primary mode of survival multiple times daily.
I autolyse.
But what function have i ever performed?
Such juvenile thoughts I have.
what are we? why are we?
like a highschool doper trying for deep affect
I ponder these pointless things.
Break me down.

Had a forgotten nightmare last night during my few hours of shutdown time.
woke up dizzy.
vertigo defines me. envelops me. destroys me.
He glances at his phone, realizes he's waiting for a call he know won't come.
a casual conversation ensues.
and she comes up.
his chin quivers and his eyes gel instantly.
-the friend beats a hasty exit
and he wants to die a little more.
I am awash with the urge to flee, run, escape...

--but to where?

drive

2009-11-30T20:16:00.002-07:00

He sits in the backseat of his sisters SUV as she drives towards their dinner location. Next to him is his 9 month old niece, who cries from teething, and the related fever.
He reaches out a hand to comfort and she grabs thumb and pinkie in either hand, pulls it close to her. She calms slightly but begins to cry again. He whispers quietly that it's ok, that she'll be warm and eating soon.
She leans forward and he realizes she can't see who is sitting next to her. He moves his face into a thin ray of road-light and she reaches out to feel the strange features she still can't quite see. She tugs his beard slightly and he sees an unmoderated smile cross her face as she quiets and calms with recognition.
Tears begin to well in his eyes as he smiles, and he finds himself thankful for the cover of nighttime.

another

2009-11-28T16:42:00.002-07:00

I stand and smoke in the dirty winter air.
The world has just ended.
The ground beneath me is still stable and cars pass, full of holiday shoppers.
An old woman walks by singing 'have yourself a merry little christmas' off-key to the music pumped by the city onto the street.
The world has just ended because she is gone.
I try to think back to happy moments, to stay positive, but can only feel shock and hurt.
This is what the survivors at Nagasaki must have felt; wracked with disbelief as their world vaporized around them. Family and friends blown away, physical entities eaten in one quick storm of hell.
Wonder: Where did they go; How did they survive?
What can humanity do after its heart is torn from its trembling grasp?
I jump in the car and drive toward home. 'Home' for the moment being a temporary setup in my parents basement.
Strike two.
Mentally work through the crisis that i'm 30, suddenly single, and living back with my parents. Try to call a friend to alleviate the panic.
'We're sorry but your service has been temporarily suspended for a past-due balance'
'fuck!'
strike three.
Having utterly failed at life I scrape together spare change.
'yes!'
just enough for a coffee..but not for a refill.
It's saturday. Payday is thursday. I have a pack and a half of smokes and a half-tank of gas til then and i'm screwed, because life drives the urge to chainsmoke.
I think of how heartbroken i've been this last month as i tried to make things work between us; how i spent each day in hell for nothing...and then there was the lie or, as she claimed, her forgetfulness..sent me into a 30-minute tailspin as i drove too fast and trembled. My heart raced and i felt like i was going to burst.
-'this is what going insane feels like' I thought to nobody in particular.
Then came the cold, both physical and emotional. Cracked a window to smoke and winter night froze my little insulated world immediately; froze so well I forgot to be heartbroken and, in that instant, that blast of cold, the world ended.
The radio tells me 'Today is the greatest day i've ever known' in that grating, nasal, whine. I resent the choice of song and feel almost a glimmer of emotion well in me. I smash it down.
No emotion for this guy, only loss, anger, and loneliness.
He steps away from himself, assesses his life:
has nothing. is nothing.
wanted only one thing.
'way to fuck that one up buddy.'
'shut up'
He knows it wasn't his mistakes that caused the apocalypse and yet, can't help but wonder if...
well..he has no use for 'what if'. He needs 'how?'
how to survive.
how to move forward.
how the fuck did he end up in the third person?
I take the narrative back and sit, sipping lukewarm, awful coffee. The shop is nice, the owner a friend, but the coffee is terrible as ever. Served up at a piping 65 degrees by a girl i used to find cute, but somehow don't anymore.
I rub my neck.
ah. pain. physical pain.
I am still alive.
:::
:::
:::
Lucky me.
A lady comes in and orders a 'grande' latte. All around cringe visibly. The formerly-cute girl takes it in stride, graciously educatinng the lady, whos timbre sends fingernails down my mental chalkboard.
More sad music. Pulling me down now.
I get the urge to run -or to cry, which makes me want to run as I am unwilling to break down in the coffee shop.
Both wash over me uncontrollably and i stand to leave.
The drive home is rough. I am distracted. I forget to shift at a stop. Stall my car at a light. Feel the setting sun illuminate my eyes. Recall how they were, more than a few times, described as 'wildcat eyes'. Now i'm not so sure. If they reflect the soul they are more than likely dull and lifeless.
[Break]

blech

2009-01-31T23:09:00.002-07:00

Sorry for the absenteeism. Been slowly dissolving.
Will try to return to my semi-erratic schedule shortly.
until then, i'm trying something new. My twitter page

Though the sketch is getting old now, the cracks don't show.

2008-11-17T00:17:00.000-07:00

the fan in my room rings harmonic
the hand in front of me pauses
mind rolls on
how tempting lately, how terrible
how benign it all seemed in retrospect.
watch the lights flicker in instrumental giddiness.
grinning skulls stare cold judgemental
the earth vibrates just so i can feel
feel i do, too much
close drooping lids catch a moment
perfection in a ten-minute song.
in a twitch it all vanishes
but here i sit.
alone bombarded
alone where i should be sleeping
and cant
run a hand over this cold body
wishing its ridges were more defined

2008-11-11T00:54:00.003-07:00

maybe it's me that's changed.

sit by myself, sad morning
try to make sense of my life
my page is marred by a previous years indentation
try to caffienate: wake up
have to score, music for a movie, have two weeks
no spare time as is
-in the city, oh oh
wish i could hibernate
shut this all off for a few months
dodge the snow and holiday season
how have i changed? why?
have i lost or gained?
the day: haze of sorrow.
feel like painting a wall, screaming out to the morass
don't really want an answer,
just for it to be known that my spirit withers

and true love waits in haunted attics.

2008-10-27T23:56:00.000-06:00

Feels like i update this thing less and less as time passes. I rarely think about this anymore.
and then it pops in my head, like i have to.
Most of my last few blogs seem to have been about the good things going on in my life.
so tonight i feel like a good whine.
some nights it seems like the best purchase i've ever made is my tea kettle.
seems like i'm falling apart, just like i said i would.
the rough-cut of the movie we made is done. we just need to write the score and we can submit it to tromadance.
so that's cool. and other things are still going well. the movie stuff is all good, though it's sucking the life out of me.

so yeah. the good things are still good i suppose.

but.

i have to say.

this year has been the worst year of my life by far.

i went from not having payments to having a new car.
two months later, right before my birthday, i got laid off.
a month later i got a job i hated down in salt lake.
a month after that i got dumped.
i wandered for a bit wanting to die.
then things got better for a bit.
i quit that job for another that sucks even worse.
my computer died and i lost all the music i've written for my solo project over the last few years.
i blew all the valves in my car and had to get a loan for $2000 to fix it, and was out a car for three weeks.
the water heater in my condo leaked and did damage to some lower condos. as a result we may have to move out.
i'm bombing my school tests regularly, in a class i got a solid A last semester in.
my band split up.
i've been sick on and off for like two months straight.
my car got broken into and my ipod got stolen two nights ago.

There's a concept in psychology called General adaptation syndrome.
In a nutshell it says that under repeated stress the body starts shutting down and can/will eventually die.
and that's a very simplified explanation of it, but i kind of feel like that right now. like i'm on my last legs.
like if one more fucking thing goes wrong in my life i'm going to just give up and let all my systems shut down.

and speaking of stress, and being too busy to even breathe, tonight i got roped in to spending all week
on set for a tv show my parent company is shooting.
awesome stuff to be a part of, but i'm on my last legs anyway. it may kill me.

That said, there's some exciting stuff on the horizon too, if i make it that far.
Our parent company is putting together a business plan with a pretty high-level consulting firm.
once that's written out and completed we begin the search for investors (we have people who are dedicated
to nothing but this for us).
provided we find enough investors to fill our business goals, i'll be on a salary, making as much as i've ever made in my life, and getting paid for each project on top of it.
so i pray daily that'll come to fruition and i can devote all my time and energy to something i love,
rather than feeding one more corporate conglomerate.

2008-10-13T22:50:00.002-06:00

Everything was beautiful. The sun shone brightly down on his upturned face. His mind entered that near-perfect, near-empty state and he quietly began to merely exist.
Everything was beautiful. The corner of his mouth turned upward. He stared blankly, taking in all and nothing. The world stopped turning. The smoke from his hand slowed, curling lazily.
Everything was perfect. His lungs burned pleasantly and his brain coughed for him. She turned and he disappeared into her waiting lips. He fell for miles. Something vaguely atonal played, lost in the background.
Everything was perfect. Movement became fluid, singular. A man signed a piece of paper. Atonality became Neil Young. He ran a finger down the tanned skin of her arm. She recoiled. People shot at each other. Things exploded. Grown men wept like children.
Everything was going according to plan. Fabric rustled through select hands. Sorrow became a commodity. Her chest heaved, half exposed. Drops hit pavement. Men talked. He inhaled, letting the nicotine destroy him.
Everything was going according to plan. He smiled as his life faltered. A child played, laughed. Pain gave way to unease. Her eyes shimmered. He closed his. Hands held tightly. mothers cried.
Everything skipped a beat. Bombs kept falling. A country became an abomination. He squeezed her closer to him. She snored lightly. Hell became manifest. Public consciousness fixated on 15 year old singers. All was well.
Everything skipped. His nose dripped in the cold. Powers collided. Fire raged through houses full of innocents. Systems began to fail.
Everything was peaceful. Except the world. Except his soul. Calm pervaded his exterior. Lust propelled their movement. Dreams gave way to recession. Clouds gathered on the horizon.
Everything was peace. Except everything.
Everything was collapsing.
Everything was beauty. He smiled and clenched his fist.

something beautiful fell into my life.

2008-09-17T01:31:00.000-06:00

Life is strange.
crazy how it works sometimes.
Three months ago i didn't know if life was worth living anymore.
I was hurt, broken, dazed. I was caught off guard.
I lost someone i loved a lot and had been with for two years.
I couldn't see beyond the pain and honestly, it was the worst breakup i've had.
not sure why, it just hurt so much more than i thought i could even feel.
So i walked around in a daze for weeks. Could barely speak. Didn't eat, didn't sleep.
I wanted to die and i didn't know how i could get around that.
Then i wanted to run away to see if that made that feeling go away, but i doubted it would.
Figured i could at least die somewhere cooler than this hole.
kidding.
mostly.
kinda.
I had the worst night of my life that few weeks later and again it all came rushing back to me,
just when i thought i was starting to be less devastated. That night almost completely ruined me.
The next night i got dragged out and had what was one of the best nights of my life.
An interesting two nights to say the least.
From that moment(saturday) things started being better.
I started finding myself again; being able to smile, be silly, have fun again.
And from there again, i started moving, breathing, existing.
in the time since the breakup i've written a movie, acted in one,
partnered on a film/literature/music/etc company,
started on a serious graphic novel,
had my band start going a different direction,
met awesome people,
and more i can't think of right now.
I've been busy as hell.
so busy that I've become somewhat of a bad friend to some.
and my body is falling apart,
and my brain feels crushed.
But i'm doing things i've always only dreamed of being able to do.
Seems so strange to think after all the pain it caused, but i almost want to thank her for it.
My life's been a lot better since

aaaand, that's a wrap.

2008-09-03T00:54:00.000-06:00

last night about this time we wrapped the final shot of the movie i've spent the last
week straight working on. I got to pretend to be an actor again for the first time in a long time.
there was some craziness, and some crankiness, the drama of making a movie.
From sunday before last to last night i think i got maybe 12 hours of sleep.
my glands are swollen and i can hardly see straight
but i wouldn't trade it for the world.
Making movies is something i've always wanted to do, and now i'm doing it.
It's looking like i may put on the director and assistant director hat relatively soon too,
soon as i finish my screenplay and, assuming anyone likes it, we get rolling.
if all goes well it should be done by the end of the year.
so far it's dark, and it's brutal and i'm loving it.
but back to this one..
spent 7 days of what seemed like 24 hour company with some amazing talent, and some amazing
people in general.
I got to work with some incredible actors from LA, and to watch some pros work their magic
behind the camera - crew as well.
made some new friends that i'm stoked about..people i'll definitely be trying to keep in touch with.
standing around drinking coffee, chainsmoking and having great conversations in the middle of the night; spending time in close quarters, stressing together, laughing together, sharing sleep deprivation, warmth, support, and sense of community..damn great times.
Made some contacts i'll be calling back in when my movie rolls.
and i have to say that being 'talent' on a set was badass too.
being attended to hand and foot is killer. I even talked a really cool PA into putting a cig into my hand and lighting it when i held it up. ..as a joke mostly.
I even heard wind of some compliments on my acting, which i felt was probably a bit
too rough to compete with the pros.
So i went to work today and realized just how much i really do hate doing the kind of job
i tend to do.
And realized that i could probably spend every day of the rest of my life on a movie set
and be totally happy with it.
So i'm going to stick with school and finish it, and still do the band stuff,
but i'm going to bust ass on this screenplay and try to make it good,
and then i'm going to bust ass learning how to be a director and try to make the coolest
western ever
and then hopefully enough people will like it that i'll be able to drop the day-to-day
bullshit jobs and just focus on being an artist finally.
and more than focus, but get paid to be one and nothing else i don't want to have to be.

2008-08-08T14:33:00.001-06:00

some peoples bodies are a temple.
mine has become a warzone.

my throat still bleeds
i have around 20 mosquito bites from sleeping outside
i am bruised everywhere
burns and gouges
chainsmoking
downing a few bottles of whiskey a week
sore..here and there

no sleep all week.
pink toenails.
getting asked if i'm a cage fighter at 2am by a pregnant smoker.
critical mass rides

realizing today when i drove by a familiar car
that she hadn't even crossed my mind in a long time.

living a life that feels more like the old me
and
i'm having more fun lately than i can remember having in a long, long time.

it hurts to set you free, but you'll never follow me.

2008-07-27T02:29:00.001-06:00

i tasted my own blood on stage tonight.
we played what could possibly be our last show before i leave
and we played hard, in the sweltering heat
we all felt it. sorrow, rage, happiness, loss...
but the nature of the music is such that the rage shone through
and my poor throat apparently couldn't take the abuse fully
so i stand on stage dripping sweat, rocking back and forth with the beat
i scream my soul into a microphone
taste the salt of sweat and blood
keep screaming, primal at this point
and as a band we do battle to hold the notes together, we burn against the dischord
and the chaos
and pull the universe into an angry cohesive mass
pulsing and pulling, moving us with an unexplainable energy

and like that..it's over
the salt still drips in my throat
and i feel nauseous from dehydration and exertion, both mental and physical

i scream.
i call forth all my emotion: old words, new relevance
songs written about one feeling, one girl, one moment
revitalized in the pain of new trauma.

over the speakers comes the doors, the end.
this is the end, beautiful friend.
fitting and enough to well tears.

one day i'm gonna lose the war.

2008-07-26T21:21:00.000-06:00

drunken times.
lipstick. camping. nearly going to jail.
taking a ten-day break from work.
awkward moments, amazing times.
sinking into her lips
bruises, burnmarks, bleeding skin.
an unexpected letter from people i didn't expect to hear from, making my day
throwing out the pain, breaking through the barrier i thought i'd never get past
nice to be able to say i'm not miserable
happy, maybe
chainsmoking, starting fires
the smell of leaving the city far behind
bad whiskey, three sleepless months
feeling vulnerable,
feeling powerful
feeling alive as i shake myself from the clutches of the walking dead
submerging my body in icy water,
burned feet on steaming blacktop
always moving, always going
not to survive or forget this time
-but because i think somewhere down the road i forgot how to have a good one
-to smile and let life unfurl as it may
my life becomes my therapy
time begins to pass as it should again.
and, as with anything, there are those who would wish for it to not be this way
whether by circumstance, feeling, worry
but i have survived: surfaced once again
and all i've done is what i had to do to do so
sometimes these feet tread where they weren't intended
trampled grass regrows
scorched forests thrive and beautify in time
such are things for me as for you
and so we change now, from fragment to lucidity
staccato to legato
where accents are implied and the spurs digging in flankside begin to lessen their torturous drive
the heat stifles; the body reacts; sweat beads on my browned face
tilt my head back to the wall
take a deep drag
--and somebody spoke and i went into a dream

Because people worry too much about me.

2008-07-24T15:39:00.003-06:00

I'm going camping for a few days. I will not have my phone on. I will not be talking to anyone. I don't know where i'm going yet, and i wouldn't tell you even if i did.
yes i'm going to be safe. yes i'm coming back.

hasta

Time won’t change a thing when I’m gone

2008-07-15T22:52:00.000-06:00

war has broken my world
love has broken my heart
life has broken my dreams

and yet, somehow i still long for tomorrow.

the night

2008-07-13T11:50:00.002-06:00

my head feels like it's been smashed in a vise
feet are worn near bloody
my wallet is soaked
keys missing
there are still big gobs of jello in my pockets
friend spent the night in the hospital
cigarette pack completely destroyed
pantless girls and drunken hours in the pool
my little room full of people in the morning
laughed, smiled, bodyslammed, comforted those who were crying
and those who went too far
and in the end all were happy
and all was perfect

and the world was bearable for one more day.

2008-07-12T16:01:00.002-06:00

i'm drowning.
ropes and vests keep being thrown
by hands and hands, some wrong some right,
but i can't seem to grasp them.
i burn and i cool
i cry and then i rage
i sigh at the world crashing around me, and then i wish i could set it all on fire.

staying alive has become my only function and i feel like i'm failing at even that.

i think i'm going to run away. soon. tuck my tail up in my legs and just run as far and as fast as i can. thought i was going to stay a while, now i don't think i can.
everyone says running away doesn't solve problems. but it at least puts distance between them.
and the only thing that's going to fix this problem is time anyway. or...something i'm too chickenshit to do anyway.

I want to close my eyes and shut it all out
but i can't sleep anymore
my laugh and my life is hollow
and it'll be moreso without certain people
but at this point i feel like i'm dead to just about everyone anyway.

bury my face in my hands and sob
and it stops
and then it hits me again
fight and surrender, hate self, repeat.

I don't even find joy in riding right now. my one safe escape has been nullified.

and i'm fucked.
and when i'm not burning i'm defeated.
and i was never that good at anything anyway

2008-07-05T21:00:00.002-06:00

A fire burns inside me now that i haven't felt in a while.
I will destroy myself
and i will create beautiful, angry things.
I'm writing my movie, scraping my stencils, painting my soul
and i think i'm almost ready to write my pretty hate machine.

it makes me so tired. I was like smoke without the fire.

2008-06-28T14:56:00.000-06:00

My hands tremble worse than they have been lately.
I can feel my heart trying to burst from its bone and flesh tenement.
stand, foot cocked against the wall,
under the sun, the summer heat and my sorrow envelops me
though i am alone, i know my pain is visible in my eyes and i close them momentarily in a futile attempt to will the moisture to disappear from them
when i open them again i look to the dusty mountains, hazy from smog
notice a single circular patch of snow remaining at the apex
and i realize that the snow and i, we're the same.
a tiny remnant of life struggling in vain against forces larger and unseen
i melt as it does and soon there will be nothing left.
with nothing to nourish, we soon become vapor: a harrowed memory
of something that wanted to be
but was never meant to.
fight to not finish the bottle of whiskey i abandoned half drunk, full drunk yesterday
fight not to take it in one swig
and hit the road in madness, full sail ahead
the will to tempt doom rises in me like the bile in my throat that i was unable to conjure last night
Remember saying i was done for, before i set out on foot.
remember saying none of this matters
remember these things because i meant them and they are still just as valid sober as drunk
i loathe myself for letting things get to this point
..and i suppose things got there, in part, because i loathe myself.
and now i'm lost again. alone. unsafe.
wilting in misery, lost for purpose

and knowing i have only myself to blame just makes me hate myself even more.

--when we meet you will see
--i will destroy everything of beauty.

I never dreamed that i'd lose somebody like you.

2008-06-28T09:26:00.003-06:00

Last night i lost the last thing i had left to care about in this world.

I'm not sure i can do this anymore..any of it.

...

2008-06-23T19:50:00.002-06:00

It's like middle of the fucking sahara hot in my room.
I can't sleep.
I can't breathe.
My world has become a blurry cycle of trying to sleep and failing, going to work, and then repeat.
Don't know what i'm doing anymore, really.
Keep getting these words from people.
keep having to hurt feelings.

and overall

i'm just tired.

I hate my job more than any i have in the past.
and the rest of my life is pulling a close second.

look at my bookshelf, try to find the one she gave me
-during a particularly hard time
but, like many of my favorites, it has been taken and never returned.

close my eyes, try to sleep standing, smoking, sweltering under the newly minted summer evening:
:try to move beyond this
but i can't.

The big fish eats the little one.

2008-06-02T00:13:00.001-06:00

my mood floats on unseen currents.
time passes like nothing and everything simultaneously.
world crashes around me: i crash around myself.
the whiskey in my blood smiles for me
-so i don't have to put so much effort toward pretending.
preoccupied with mortality the last few
wake up in panic
tell myself i'm going to quit.
tell myself i should start again.
sit here and sweat in the heat. already too much for me.
finish a faulkner book and jump right into mccarthy.
i am the devil.
lost something somewhere.
but there's nothing to be found.
just an empty box and a life gone sour.
pull smoke into my injured lungs.
try to pull her close to me
:and fail:
so i retreat into my self-ness
and hide the agony behind the sheen of exhaustion
curse myself for being so good sometimes
when everything else has gone so bad.

--well his heart aint made of nothin but piss and vinegar
--and his boots have traveled more than you have known.

I run my fingers across windows to trace all the outlines that make up your face

2008-02-11T23:31:00.000-07:00

I sit here alone in my room,
underneath a sky that looks like it wants to snow.
type on a borrowed laptop...mine's gone the way of the buffalo.
alone i can be myself.
give in to the sorrow, if only for an hour or two.
the last two books i've read for my childrens lit class
(that i may drop tomorrow) have made me cry.
and the one i'm trying to squeeze in on personal time is just plain amazing.
the omnivores dilemma.
everyone should read it.
roommate pounds off-rythm drums in the room next to mine, sings along off-key
the sound never stops here anymore. it goes from movie, to movie, to recording,
to singing along with cd's back to movies.
there is never a moments peace here, never a quiet moment.
ponder moving out again
because paying rent again might be worth a little peace-and-fucking-quiet.
leaving for san diego on wednesday, what should be a much needed vacation,
only it's destroyed my school schedule for the next two weeks
adding more stress than i'm sure the break can even come close to helping
a flight to the place of my birth
the dream of leaving this all behind.
took a stress test in one of my psych classes and scored far higher than is healthy.
may have bitten off more than i can chew.
life may be more than i can chew...
got a new car.
signed over my green baby tonight (still waiting to get paid..)
realize she's gone from my lover to the daughter a father eventually has to let go of
when she gets married.
spent 7 years and almost 200 thousand miles in that car, and i still dug it.
my friend, the new owner, is already talking about souping her up again
and i guess more than lover or father, i'm the bastard who betrayed,
traded in for younger, sleeker, sexier.
black and fast is my new baby.
and i'm getting enough tax return $ this year that i can pay a big chunk of my medical bills
and still have a chunk to put back into her,
to make her even faster.
because when all is said and done, who doesn't like the feel of screaming beasts at foot;
steel and fire tearing through everything in the way.
that's the only real positive i have to report.
wonder what it's like to have a home
where i can shut the door and the only sound is my own.
i miss sleep, friends, intoxication, irresponsibility.
'you look exhausted' she says.
'you seem way out of it' he tunes in later
and all i can muster in response is
'i am'
my hands tremble.
i have to force myself to work out.
exhausted but can't sleep well.
go figure.
been paying attention to diet more lately.
debating another change.
part of me really wants to go back to being vegan
and part wants to wean myself back on meat. just enough that i could eat it without
getting sick.
so i may combine the two. be mostly vegan, but work in a little meat here and there
to keep healthy
and to not feel so damned egotistical
because, honestly, it's very egocentric to be veggie or vegan.
we are spoiled babies who are too good for something a lot of people would literally kill to have.
what else would be expected from the land of anorexia.
vanity.
but part of it is still a big part of me.
I don't eat a lot of processed food anyway, but reading that book has made me really want to fight back
against that whole system as well.
buy out of buying in.
eating shit is not yet a foregone conclusion
it's just cheaper.

--I'm sleeping tonight with all the wolves
--while dreaming of life that's better planned
--as long as the wind that falls isn't longing for revenge
--i should be safe
--we should be safe

gouda

2008-01-17T21:10:00.000-07:00

It's been a rough little while.
still is.
I guess something i need to add to the dreariness, though,
is that i know i'm blessed with some of the best friends anyone has ever had.
And i can't always return that favor, whether it's distance, time, or just my
messed-up head getting in the way, but you/they mean the world to me.
I've also had the pleasure of crossing paths with some of those same people
in different times, different places, and haven't been able to hold on..
or have purposely stepped away.
a lot of those people have been on my mind lately too.
We may not talk often, or ever, and in-person time is rarer still now that
school, work, band, significant other, trying to find time for me, and depression have absorbed me.
Some people i consider friends may not even know it.
Some i keep at arms-length on purpose - not because i fear rejection, but because i fear
rejecting.
Without the people around me, past and present, i wouldn't be who i am today.
and while being me may not be the greatest thing ever, it is what it is, and if i'm
happy with anything in this world, it's that i can be myself.

So thanks.

your pal,
Swiss

today is the tomorrow that yesterday i feared.

2008-01-16T23:54:00.000-07:00

Today i feel like: giving up. on everything.

this place
where it all falls apart
and we find, as we stand, with slight distance
between us
.
the words unsaid.
meaning unpaid for.
laugh at things that weren't funny before
while we adopt new stoicism.
snow falls deeper than this blood runs
but it washes away the same
until all that's left is salt and wasted hours.
stare at a thing but cannot define it.
what are you?
what defines this structure?
-until i'm lost
in a perfect smile
lost in your face
your gaze
your absence.

something

2008-01-04T00:30:00.000-07:00

This is a hidden track on a boysetsfire EP.

nobody really seems to believe in anything anymore. everything has been tried, they say, and everything has failed. there's nothing anyone can do. people who try are mocked by the so-called "liberal media" who called protesters dirty and freakish. yeah, life sucks for some people. even most people. but there you have it, life deals you a hand and you play it. we live in a country that is envied and idolized around the world. we live in america, the united fucking states of america. the country of john wayne, monster truck rallies, the home of the brave and the haven of the wealthy. we're fucking number one. in crime, in drug addiction, in education?? no. not number one, more like what, 23 or something? our fellow citizens are taxed heavily but in return receive no health insurance, heavy welfare reform, no free preschool in the country, and crumbling schools. and the fucked up thing is, i mean the really fucked up thing is, the world can't wait to be just like us. walmart, step right up. starbucks, please take anything you want. europe and the rest of the world are dying to trade their culture and heritage for what? the ability to get nachos at four in the morning? who gives a fuck? the world's governments are literally lining up and begging us to have our way with them. destroy our land, who cares. pollute our drinking water, please. enslave our populous working class working for pennies making clothing for fucking yuppies, please. democracy cannot truly exist in the capitalist society. the only way a candidate can get to the point where he can truly influence the world around him is to be so in debt to corporate interest that he's pretty much a puppet on a string. a soulless marionette dancing to the rhythms of industry and corruption.

in america, you have the right to protest. as long as the protest is done within whatever confines the ruling class deems necessary. here is where you protest: in this little orange square, and no ones going to listen to you. it is really like being led to a soundproof room and being told, ok, here you go. say anything you want, here's your freedom of speech. protest has got to find a way to combat this. to literally force the world to listen to what we have to say. i'm not totally sure we've done that yet, but i know we will. people ask me, you hate america so much, so can you think of any countries that are actually better? and i say sure. maybe i can't think of any countries that have quite the assortment and plethora of bombs that we have, but i can think of plenty of countries that have governments that actually realize, in some small way or another, that maybe at least one small aspect and function of government is to take it citizens seriously. well at least they have universal healthcare, something the united states refuses to even investigate.

Do you feel alive now? now that you own the dead.

2008-01-04T00:29:00.000-07:00

sit alone in a sleeping house. cover one eye so i can see.
the world spins: i am its captive.
fall asleep with my boots on.
keep telling myself, and others, that i don't drink as often anymore
and that is entirely true.
but i think i drink an unhealthy quantity when i do.
was told i was the devil last night.
punched my friend too hard when he tried to headlock me.
feel bad.
get in a drunken argument with my girlfriend outside after 1.
seems to be happening way too often lately.
sit, alone, in a sleeping house. in penance.
for something i can't even comprehend.
she tells me my depression is trivial. that i can just 'change it' in my head.
which shocks me when i consider the field she's in.
it's not getting better, it's getting worse.
and i'm deciding, now, that the alcohol contributes slightly to that so i'm done for a while.
god, if only it were as easy as just shutting off my demons.
what a different life i might have led.
flip through my hosts porn collection. nothing good. no point anyway.
funny, peoples tastes.
we're all so vulnerable
when we sleep.
maybe that's why i have a hard time doing it.
almost always the last one down.
i see faces in everything.
the spackle on my ceiling. the corner of a darkened television.
they are immobile and tortured.
and i wish they were as beautiful as i used to find them.
--though i have a broken dream.
grab an empty journal
-or so i thought.
three pages of west coast thoughts, tortured and powerful.
chemical.
from the height of despair and depth of my life.
that word...
i'm told, on occasion, that i'm good at many things.
so why is it i can't be good at the most important one?
why do i fail at the most base act: happiness?
why am i so bad at this life,
where every smile comes at the cost of grit teeth
and i struggle every day to let myself continue with it.

lately: so rare i find beauty in anything.
rather: absurdity.
hopelessness.decay.
find a moment.
pick it up.
scream at myself, rip out my brain and tear it to shreds
:lose it:
as quickly as it came.
think about days,
sweat, sheets, blood on my arm,
sex, death, vertigo
glamour
almost losing myself, so nobly, powerful
you almost lost me too
-some may as well have.
felt like a god as i broke me down
but of course i'm only a man. a fuck up
who can't even give up properly.

--torches to bridges and bridges to torture
--headlines distort what we see as our borders

take a picture and keep it, remember i loved you that night.

2007-12-16T11:46:00.001-07:00

i have a bone to pick.
First thing, though, i have a disclaimer to make that will seem odd until you read on.
I've always been a big fan of pirates. I remember when i was growing up, my dad sitting
beside my bed and reading me treasure island. He always had a set cutoff time and i was always
upset, because i wanted to know the rest of the story..how it all played out.
I remember being one for halloween more than once (as well as a cowboy.)
I've always followed archaeology news concerning pirate related finds with an extra keen eye
etc. etc..
That being said, i think the whole pirate fad that still seems to be going strong was played out
before it even really got started. I'm so tired of pirate flags and stickers, tattoos, and all the icons
of this strange phenomenon. You're not a pirate, you drive a minivan. if you were a pirate, you'd probably
be in laos right now, cruising around in a speedboat.
When i first joined my band two years ago, some of the songs were already written and it was my job to go in
and make the lyrics/vocals not only mine, but different enough that i couldn't be said to be copping from the old
singer, who i still like and talk to whenever i can. One of the songs had an intro that struck me as having a very
particular kind of rythm and flow. It sounded like a sea shanty. And so i set out to, for the first time, write something
maybe a little whimsical, impersonal, and really just a bit goofy. I wrote a pirate song. not only that, but i think i wrote
it pretty damn well.
It seems, though, that even when my subject matter is, on the surface, more lighthearted than usual, my words still end up being about
suicide, depression, and abandonment.
I always paint the same picture of my self-immolation, whether people notice or not.
go figure.
Not to play my bands stature up here, because we're not huge, but we've been playing this song (titled only 'the pirate song)
for almost two years now. We've played it for quite a few people, it's gotten some airtime on local stations, and it's the only song
we have, so far, where i've noticed people i didn't directly know mouthing the words as i sing on stage. So, we're not hugely famous, but that song is fairly well known around here, i'd say.
Here's where it gets tricky. I don't want to claim that we had the first pirate song, or the best, or even that it's a particular innovative
idea. I know these things aren't true.
BUT
by about six months after we started playing this song at shows, and with other bands, it became known to us that at least
two bands (who we'd played with) were doing pirate songs..one even just called it 'pirate song' like we did.
Then, last night, i was at a bar for a minute to see some friends when an old friend from another band came up, shakes my hand
and says 'hey dude, we're doing a pirate song now..like yours!'
as if i was supposed to jump up and down and say 'wow man, that's great. thanks for taking and diluting our creativity, i really
am flattered.'
My gripe has nothing to do with pirates, by the way. Like i said, i know i didn't have some amazing flash of never-before-touched
genius. But what i did have was honest, and from my mind, heart, and soul. I wasn't trying to cash in on some 'scene', and i definitely
wasn't trying to imitate someone's past success.
This is something i've noticed in the past with my band too. Again, i stress, we're no local superstars or anything like that, but we are a bit
known, and we've played for, and with, a lot of people. Small stature and everything, there have been no small number of bands who,
after we've played a show or two with them, suddenly start sounding, or acting, a bit more like us.
I guess i'm supposed to be honored, but i'm not.
Imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery in my book. It's predatory, and cheap.
The above isn't my true gripe either though. It is, but i'm talking on a larger scale and using the most recent, and smaller example to
flesh it out.
I've never understood the proliferation of copycats in modern society. I do understand that nothing is truly original, but it should at least
be slightly different. My mind boggles when i see something, we'll say a store that sells everything for a dollar or less as their catch.
Then within a few months, someone else has a store with the same lettering and color scheme , only everything they sell is less than 99 cents. Then, even though store two offers either the same, or less quality, people start going there and taking away from the people who
originated the idea.
Local to here this can be seen with bean bag companies. We had love-sac, who brought bean bags back into fashion, but raised the price
about tenfold. As they started struggling, all of the sudden, here pops up two competitors who offer nothing different but the name on the label.
Maybe this just bugs me because i seem to have a (sometimes annoying) talent at finding the similarities between things. Quite often i'll
hear a song, band, see a piece of art, movie, whatever and, rather than being able to appreciate it at face value, can't because all i can hear is the blatant attempt to copy its influences.
Back to the band example; There could be no creativity without outside influence. There's simply no denying that. However, i'd like to see
more people called out on lack of their own individual flair. I can't even say how many bands we've played with lately that sound EXACTLY like Killswitch Engage, or slipknot, etc..and the thing that kills me is people love them. Here's where my gripe starts to sound like it borders on jealousy but it's not. I'd rather play for nobody at all and die completely unknown, than be known only as a semi-good imitation of someone we all like just that much better. I just look at it like, i like killswitch and i'm sure that, somehow, they've influenced me as a musician, but you take small pieces, you learn from the whole, and then you turn around and try to innovate on it, change it, make it better. I have no respect for someone who just apes and expects some kind of congratulations. All you've done is recycled, not added any quality. That was my biggest problem with the strokes, white stripes, hives, etc. they all did the same thing and it had been done, and better, way before they did.

Last night i called for my band to retire our pirate song. I'd rather move forward, than pull from someone else, and i DEFINITELY don't want to make the impression that i'm just trying to ride some easy wave called pop-culture.

cause you know what? fuck pop culture.

--wait, wait. i feel it unraveling. it comes with no warning at all and takes me over.
--all words fail.
--i'll fight it another day.

and now, without further ado, i present to you the triumphant return of: Ye olde x-mas list of death.

2007-12-04T20:38:00.000-07:00

1. my mom is diagnosed with diabetes.
2. my dad is told he probably had a heart attack recently.
3. a coworker collapses and spends a week in the hospital
4. a friend has a problem i can't discuss publicly, but fits nicely on the death list.
5. battlestar galactica season 3 is released in england but not here until april.
6. a friend gets screwed in a custody hearing.
7. another friend hospitalized for internal bleeding after a botched surgery on an ectopic pregnancy.
..much more to come.

as i spread her thighs, my life flashes before my eyes

2007-12-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

i drive home by myself
pavement glistens under streetlamps
flash back to my accident. i remember the sheer force of it
sexy, in a way.
can still see and feel it in perfect clarity in my head. i remember the smell.
strangely, there's no sound after the first crash. i think i was listening to vast
but can't be sure, as my deck was destroyed.
knew it was the end
but somehow i wasn't taken.
i round a corner and there is a wreck blocking most of the freeway
flashing lights and angry commuters.
part of me wonders if i'd been feeling someone elses rush.
continue on. faster.
my thoughts turn darker as days go by.
almost feels like the old me is back again;
the one who sits, surrounded by good friends, and feels like the most lonely person
in the whole of human existence.

spend another night alone.
more lately than in the past year or so.
chalk one more thing up to the world crumbling around me.

i'm not sure i can do this anymore.

2007-11-23T20:33:00.001-07:00

spend my days off restlessly,
trying to remember how to have a good time.
slipping further down,
grasping at sabotaged rungs.
so tempted to fall back, to the old ways
but i know i can't
so i...
..don't really know what it is i do.
I flounder, i guess.
try to force the infamous half-smile
but i can feel the space behind my eyes burning
-or burning out.
should've burned out when it still would've been cool.
now i'm destined to fade away
into obscurity
mediocrity
maybe i've always been here
..
a nice ass in tight jeans catches my glance,
the movement fluid
and it never ceases to amaze me how all the mechanical,
the microbial,
atomic-level interactions,
the system within system..
how all this meat and juice and turmoil
can sometimes be wrapped in such beauty as to bring a man
crashing into oblivion
-or at least scatter a train of thought absolutely.
'you look sad'
she tells me from a few hours back.
guess i'm not pretending as well as i could be.
so i head home.
listen to more sad music
find auditory memories
and drink hot yerba
trying to calm my frayed nerves
..or feed them?
feel the urge to paint,
but not to brave public presence to get new brushes.
though i could maybe justify a trip that way for a jug of wine
or bottle of whiskey
or both.
a trio
to kill the pain.
feels like a good night for oblivion.
how i wish it was warm outside.
a drunk in a park, under a moon sounds so nice.
hell, drunk anywhere sounds better than this.

so i depart.

2007-11-14T22:05:00.001-07:00

stand in front of the mirror naked, reading,
stranger in a strange land
step into the shower and i'm reminded of vegas
years back,
look around, can't shake it.
maybe it's the shitty curtain
maybe it's the way my head pounds, anger at last night
maybe i just need a fucking break.
i find myself a few days later, feeling the same.
not sure what to do with myself.
hands worn from work, and the cold,
mind shredded.
trying to cope with a life that leaves little room for happiness lately.
try to reconcile some concept of a future
with the terrible now.
mother was diagnosed with diabetes the other day,
or was it the other week...
perfect signal that the holidays are beginning.
the weather gradually cools.
--hey little sister what have you done?
trying to study, can't focus.
lifting myself out of..no, nevermind. i was mistaken.

2007-10-25T23:56:00.000-06:00

OCTOBER FUCKING 30TH!!!!
day watch comes out on dvd. unrated at that.
i've seriously been waiting YEARS for this movie.

in other news, uh.
hm.
well i'm getting ready to head in for another grave shift.
have another one on sunday.
still have crap in my lungs, though a bit less.
oh, and when i say i have a grave shift, it's not like i'm just working a grave.
it's that i've already been to work today, come home for a bit, work a grave,
go to school, and then straight back to work.
you envy me, you know it.

really life just pretty much sucks right now.
i haven't slept well in what feels like years.

on a positive note, i finally sold my bike, and managed to pick up a real beauty.
basically a pro level bike on my not great budget.
it's seriously a work of art.
she wanted a tune-up so i took her right in.
but i'm dying to find out what the ride's like.

will let y'all know.

2007-10-17T03:29:00.001-06:00

so here i sit at work. 3am again.
find myself longing for a break, a vacation,
something.
still have those 19 paid days left for the year
that i won't be able to spend.
still have that crappy feeling in my lungs, because i can never rest enough
to fully recover.
still feel like i'm falling apart at the seams.
and yes, i know i've made the right decision,
the one that's going to be a good thing in the long run
but it sure has made everything miserable for now
and no end in sight.
here i sit at work, and one of my computers just died.
fucking great.
have 4 tests tomorrow, one a mid-term.
and a presentation.
and oh, did i mention it's 3:20am now?
tried to sleep at midnight, for a few hours until 2
but of course, who can do that when faced with that alarm
and the prospect of being here.
my head pounds
my arm is dry and peeling.
I wish i had poignant things to say, but i just..don't.
they're in this head somewhere, but i can't conjure more than
a whine lately.
the veins in my hand are bulging, enhanced by the sickly glow of these monitors.
i ask myself. 'when will this stop'
sadly, i've been giving semi-serious thought to trying to be a waiter somewhere
because they make decent money, even part time.
i just don't know that i wouldn't flip out on dumb people and lose my job quickly.

saw ken andrews on saturday, and it was incredible seeing him do
a lot of failure stuff, and year of the rabbit, as well as his new stuff.
last night was captured by robots.
dude is effing insane. nuff said.

i guess the only really cool thing i have to report is that i finally sold my bike
and have ordered a sexy replacement. i had to pay a bit more than i thought i would
but in return i'm pretty much getting a pro-level, sub 17lb bike.
and it's beautiful.
the wait is killing me.
will post pics when i have it in my greasy paws.

2007-10-09T16:53:00.001-06:00

sometimes i wonder if people remember me.
because, in my depression, the head tends to go back a ways.
to other times, other places.
things felt and said, done and undone.
the passage of time is a strange beast
and stranger yet finding yourself pushed along
standing on the tip of that dagger
that slowly edges into the skin until you fall back
and are passed behind.
my head is a swelling sea of unease and doubt.
haven't i made the right choices, done the things i ought to?
shouldn't i be happier right now?

2007-10-05T15:35:00.000-06:00

i feel like i'm breaking down cell by cell.
my med-term teacher keeps telling us that if we get too stressed we'll get
seriously ill
and then gives us tests on one huge chapter a week where, if we get below 80%,
we can be removed from the class and not allowed to move on with med classes.
and i imagine she's a bit shocked to see a guy like me pulling high 80's and 90's
(96% on todays test)
but it's to the detriment of my other classes, and my health, sanity,
and all remnants of a social life.
my schedule is as follows:
mon: school 8am-1pm, work 115pm-7pm, home to eat and then study til 10 or 11
tues: work 7am-7pm, home to eat and then study
wed: same as monday, but band practice 7-9pm
thurs: same as tues
friday: same as monday followed by either passing out or drinking heavily
sat: chores, studying, band practice or show
sun: work lately, family stuff, more studying.
I have 19 vacation days to take before the new year
and i can't even manage to get a day off.

I, your humble narrator, and bestest buddy,
am unraveling.
and i don't see any hope for rest anytime soon.

i'll sleep when i'm dead..which at this rate, won't be anytime soon.

Things have been pretty bad lately.
School is busy, work is overtime AND really busy,
the band is a mess,
my car is dying.
life is a mess.
and it seems like the only time i feel ok; my time of zen (centering and leveling)
is when i'm riding.
being so busy though, my ride time has been severely cut back
so now when i do it's shorter, but much harder, faster, and in higher gear.
I already feel like i've lost around 1/3 of my leg muscle from my peak this summer.
My zen time, my moments of relaxation, are only found in those few minutes,
screaming, burning, beautiful.
i've been pushing myself near the point of collapse (both in life, and riding),
going until my legs feel like rubber, my chest wails, and the body as a whole
gives out.
it starts in the balls of your feet, a dull ache moving up your leg. the muscle
fibers tear and they cry for rest, your core tires, hands hurt, lungs die,
you feel like your essence is going to spew from the top of your head
and then you give it just a bit more.
and as the pain becomes the only thing on your mind, and a kind of primal anger
(i actually bared my teeth at a stupid skater who wouldn't get out of the way),
you pass into the tunnel,
where nothing exists but flesh, steel, pavement, and air
and you push harder still
and by now every sinew, every neuron positively agonizes.
this is the way i find my center now,
where the world disappears.
in the past, i would've found this by tipping the wrist, swallowing dry, and waiting
a few minutes.
.suppose now the reaction is still chemical, but it's brought about a completely
different way.
this is my high
and i notice that if i go a few days without, i start getting crazy.
so maybe it's true you only trade addictions, without ever getting rid of them
but i like this one.

and i sit now, trying to hemorrage words.
find myself spacing, staring into nothing.
unable to think.
all i want to do is sleep
and skip tomorrow
and next week.
so tired i begin to write the wrong words.
--i'm asking you if i'm doing things wrong
begin to lose track, chang gear [change...well...]
there is no thought anymore
[there is no matt, only zuul]
last week at work i overheard a bit of conversation between three girls
and what i caught of the first part was
'well yeah, he'll be a great father. i mean, i know he's a skinhead but
i don't support it and he'll be a really good role model.'
my brain pretty much shut down at that point from the sheer effort of not flipping
out and causing a scene.
a great role model...
because what the world really needs right now
is more hateful, ignorant people.
..who will in turn breed more hateful, ignorant people.
i don't even really know what else i can say
other than
god help us all.

when I talked about it, carried on, reasons only knew. but it's you I fell into.

2007-08-28T08:12:00.000-06:00

woke up today with 'fly' by sugar ray in my head, and it's still there now.
this tells me it's going to be a bad, bad day.

found out yesterday that a girl i've alternately been friends/acquaintences/crushing on with
died of an OD.
I seem to have the distinct privelege of having everyone i've known directly that
has died be drug related.
not to jinx anyone, because i still do know relatively few people who've passed, but
a car wreck or illness or something here and there might make me a little less
angry, or confused, or upset.
it just doesn't make sense to me anymore, how this could be the preferred way.
they've all been people who deserved something more.
and it always triggers my gut reaction-anger, the 'why would you..' 'how could you..'
..why didn't you...
why didn't someone..?
why didn't i?
but it's too late for all that now, too late for it to do any good anyway.
and i'll miss seeing her around here and there, at our shows, the occasional
emails and quick chats,
and i'll keep waiting for the next one to throw away their life senselessly.

none of this is in any proper order.

today everything could change.
i sit and wait, forty minutes early for my first class.
a girl in pigtails smiles at me.
so far i'm the the loser old-guy i half expected to be.
not yet anyway.
haven't been up here for real since 1998 or 99.
today i find out about something else, something i've been stressing lately.
and i'm hoping; maybe even praying, that the news is good.
i know it's only the first day but it's strange how different
this time feels.
the girl sent me off with 'hope you make lots of friends'.
but i'm not here for that.
i'm here to get this done
and start what i've been wanting to for so long now.
people keep passing me.
makes me feel less dumb for accidentally circling the building
a few times earlier, looking for my easily labeled class.
forgot to bring a nalgene. something i know i'm going to regret later.
live and learn, i guess.
i am a giant ball of tension right now.

got pulled over again for nothing.
was angry and shaking so bad i couldn't follow the pen.
finally told him just to breath me, and of course i blew clean.
as a reward i got my car searched (but not my person?).
Why am i such a constant target for cops around here?

write,think,run,bike,move,ignore,lose.

fear; that this could all come crashing down around me
on a whim.
that, in the blink of an eye, the possible-tangible could
twist and contort
and leave me stranded like i've found myself so many
times before.
head pounds.
sweat falls to the ground.
i marvel at its quantity.
the veins bulge.
'open me' they say.
drink me..
they scream.
what are you doing to us?!
what has been done, all this work?
prissy mormons and disheveled old men pass by wearing that calculated look
of cold superiority.
tonight feels like all this well adjustedness could go flying
into an intangible mess;
like a veil could lift and fling me into darkness,
uncertainty.
and i'd have no recourse but to flail my aching arms
and land where the coin points and the tide drops me off.
got my first textbook in the mail today.
a medical encyclopedia
and so this is it.
the die has been cast.
the training begins,
and i wonder..am i up for it?
can i DO this?
will i get lost halfway along the way
or just out of the starting gate?
where does this road lead?

sunday. monday, technically.
i lay, prone, and let the universe wash over me.
try to keep my profile smooth and seamless
but i am washed away.
demons of my past snicker menacingly.
ghosts pop up from hidden recesses in my mind.
all the fires i played with and got burned by,
all greet me with open arms
as though i'd never left.
hello old friend. how we'd missed you..
realize i've thinned out my friends and acquaintences considerably.
times and people, feelings become spirits
and i miss some of them all.
i remember cars burning in the heat of a brutal vegas summer,
trips there i can't believe i survived, let alone remember.
my mind flashes to one of my lowest points,
when i was ready to give up.
when, for once in a rare time, i reached out.
dug a number out of my pocket, picked up the greasy handle of a payphone,
stood in the corner of my haunt, which was packed at the time.
stood alone, trembling, body shocked - toxic, i wanted it to shut down.
kept popping.
and a voice came over the static,
and i apologised for needing help, for being fucked up,
.for being who i am.
and a friend, and ex-lover took me in her arms that night,
and in her bed. and after my fevered shudders ended, she held me
while i sobbed and asked for permission to quit it all.
this life, this responsibility, everything.
we lay, pale in the cool basement, and she was the mother i could
never face in this state.
i was frail, weak, dying that night,
and in those moments i was saved.
i pick a red hair from my black pillow, put my head down.
inhale her deeply, close my eyes.
this is now, not then.
a better time.
and like that, i'm running through the park,
first with two friends and conspirators, poets both.
one i miss...
i run, a tiny hand grasping my finger as we chase
another small figure.
she laughs,
and i'm in another park, after hours,
flung carelessly on the ground.
i laugh. she blushes.
we head home, not knowing that she's already begun
to destroy me.
there's delivery chinese, brought by a middle-aged white guy.
lines in the dark, watching movies, chainsmoking,
me not being able to properly explain what i was doing, or why.
savoring a morning, before voices and cartoons rouse me.
i'm smoking out back at a house midtown, shooting the shit with an overly
intoxicated friend.
we move nearer to the U but the purpose is the same.
we write music, and talk,
and play.
always have good food,
and we are good too, if a bit slow.
we talk a lot about his soon-to-be ex-wife and i try to
tell him she's worth fighting for.
we lose touch.
i lose the ability to use the word 'friend'.
later there is one foolish night, that i agonize over,
and am called out unfairly for,
and i too stop fighting,
..for either one.
i am in paris, sitting at an indian restaurant.
i think we order the same thing.
it is greasy, and delicious, and after we finish we wander for a while.
at the hotel i get a massage from a cute little blonde in a
short, nurse-ish outfit. then we get on a train..
and we're in portland, taking pictures of waterfalls.
i'm wearing a converge hoodie that was too small last year.
we check into the hostel and later walk next door for BBQ.
hippies play bad music and we turn in.
one of us snores so loud the other two ponder
suffocation with a pillow, text messaging across the tiny room.

my cat curls up in my wicker chair.
i pull the chain. head to sleep far too late this night.

new day same mind.
same worries.
this weekend, then school again.
ran sick last night and stressed my kneww.
need to learn my limits.
..before the point where my body explicity illustrates them for me.
guess that's something i've always been good at - maybe the only thing.
:pushing my body well beyond sane limits.
and now i'm trying to apply that in a more positive way
but hitting similar results.
for a while i was compared to keith richards.

now who am i?

why am i feeling this right now?
i am onstage..if you could call it a stage.
see her and i am hers, from that moment.
--hello, i've waited here for you, everlong.
and i'd be embarassed if i was near sober.

--Are you lost or incomplete?
--Do you feel like a puzzle?
--You can't find your missing piece
--Tell me how do you feel?
--Well I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak
--And they're talking it to me

2007-07-19T11:37:00.001-06:00

realized that my last entry started with "seems like the better shape i get in...."
and didn't take it anywhere.
got distracted.
what i wanted to say was;
seems like the better shape i get in,
the more sober i am,
the healthier a person i become,
the more i seem to notice the pain my body deals with.
i'm not sure if it's just because i push myself hard these days,
or if i was just too messed up to notice for most of my life.
last week the girl and i had a fight and i took off, decided it was a good idea
to walk 20 miles in flip flops.
you know, blow off steam. would've been fine, i think, except for the shoes.
so i get out of bed the next day and nearly collapse as the pain shoots up my foot
through my entire leg.
walk like a cripple for a week.
yesterday i ride home from work and jump on my weights, which i've just added 20 lbs
to.
a few hours later every time i move wrong, the pain in my back knocks the wind out of me.
today i'm sitting at work praying nothing comes in, so i don't have to get up
and move around.

The past two years have been a total about-face for me.
and i've talked about it here before, so i'll try to not rehash too much,
but i'm sober now, aside from the occasional weekend drunk.
I ride my bike every day, and walk, and hike, and am trying to start swimming.
my next goal is running.
Last saturday i did the riding part of the echo canyon triathlon.
it was only 12ish miles, which is a breeze for a lot of people, but the first half
was all uphill, and i damn near gave up twice.
I finished. all three of us finished.
I don't think i've ever pushed myself so hard physically,
and this was on that bad foot mentioned above, that i could hardly stand on,
and a case of mild food poisoning from the day before.
and i finished.
I have been in a triathlon now. how fucking weird is that?
i mean..me.
My body's changed. it's still not where i want it to be but it's always getting
closer.
I've gone from wanting to get a bit more in shape, so i could go rock climbing next year,
to wanting to keep working on myself, to wanting to look like leonidas from the 300 (long way to go),
to now..wanting to do a whole triathlon by myself next year.
and i will.
it was really bizarre hearing the term 'athletes' thrown around in relation to my
friends and i.
and i wouldn't necessarily call myself an athlete by any stretch of the imagination,
but i'm in the best shape of my life, and always getting a little better.
been trying to cut back on the smoking...that's the next thing that has to go.
some days it works, some it doesn't.
One thing i've realized is that my bike, my baby, isn't what i need for what i'm doing.
it's amazing, and i love it, but it weighs about two tons.
At the triathlon, i was riding with guys whos bikes were generally probably 20+ lbs
lighter than mine. i'd say 99% were that, and at least $3000 bikes.
So i want to keep my baby, and i just inherited my dads ancient trek.
my original plan was to upgrade my dads bike piece by piece, until everything on it
was new, light, and modern, but now i think i'm going to look around at pawn shops
and possibly trade in some of the crap i've been holding on to for a while, but
will probably never use.
hopefully it works out. I don't need to win, but i'd like to at least be competitive
next time around, and i think with a proper bike, i'll almost instantly be 2-3 times
as good as i am now.
..or if any of you have a nice trek madone, or felt you'd like to give me...

what else?
school starts next month. i almost can't believe it. my student loan covers almost
two whole semesters, not counting books.
So i'll probably disappear for a while, trying to figure out homework and band and life,
and everything in between.
not to mention i'll be playing bioshock, and halo 3, and gta 4. w00t.

There's another thing about me that's changed, that will probably be as much,
if not more of a shock than me becoming a health-nut douchebag to those that have
known me, and that's that my girl and i have decided to get a place together.
I know that sounds common, and maybe trivial, but it's something that has always
been poison to me in the past. something to be avoided, rather than desired.
But i'm excited. we spend most nights together anyway, and once school starts
we're not going to have a lot of time outside of the weird here-and-there hours.
So we've been looking around, at houses and condos. I'm not ready to commit to
buying, because we're going to pack up and hit the road for seattle as soon as
school is done.
because that's where i want to be, and have for damn near 12 years now. and because
i'll make twice the $ there.
and well, it's just cooler. no hot summers, no brutal winters.
too bad rob's there, smelling the place up.
we've found a few places that look decent here, and that will allow us to take..
oh yeah...sigh. to take the dog she just got us,
which isn't a real dog, per se, but a chihuaua.
I told her we can fatten it up for when i get my real dog, the dane.
one of the places we're looking at takes two dogs, so i may try to get one soon,
but i may wait until the move, as danes are a lot of care, and a lot of $.

May have mentioned this too..sometimes i wonder if all i do is rehash myself anymore,
but it's really strange. Self-destructive me is still here, he's just smaller,
and i try to ignore him most of the time now.
I still find myself at odds with my head sometimes,
hence the calling myself a douchebag when i talk about doing healthy things.
So here i stand, approaching 30, and finally becoming what i could consider a man.
becoming healthy, going back to school to start a real career, settling into domesticity.
basically a douchebag.
but a happier douchebag than i've ever been, and healthier and fitter,
and looking forward to what the next years have to offer me.

a fevered dream

2007-07-13T14:16:00.000-06:00

seems like the better shape i get in....

I'm in a mall.only, not exactly a mall. It's about the size of a city block or larger, and as tall as a skyscraper.
the architecture is ultra-modern, broad lines and angles; similar to the library in slc but moreso, and on a much
larger scale.
At first i'm only there walking around, think i may be reading a book.
As i come in to a square that's starting to fill up, i see my band setting up. Help for a bit and then go up another level, watch
the stage and the crowd from a riser area.
I hear a voice call my name and turn. it's my horrible ex from so many years ago. She looks just like she did back then, though
her voice isn't really hers. I think she's wearing the same outfit as she was last time i had the misfortune of crossing her path.
She comes over and starts circling me, looking at my tattoos..weird thing is they are both similar to my right arm, just spaced larger,
the lines on my left arm don't exist anymore.
She tries the niceties, i don't bite..walk off, just like i did the first time i met her.
Some guy comes up and starts talking to me. I'm pretty sure he was with her, but he didn't seem to want to admit it. we talk politics
for a while. He's black, well dressed, and has short dreads that bob when he starts talking faster.
I go onstage and we play. Every sound we make sounds exactly like the cd, rather than a live show.
We finish and i leave, move to the higher levels of the 'mall'. Find myself in a cafe-type thing, only i don't think there was food.
I see a girl who works at the office i just switched from and she calls me over. We talk for a while about work, and life, and family,
talk a bit about dating and all that. Suddenly she starts talking about 'the haves' and have-nots' and how some people just
naturally deserve more than others, by virtue of intelligence. She keeps along this current for quite a while and announces
to me that she's made a decision.
next thing i know i'm staring down the absurdly long silenced barrel of a mid-sized machine gun.
she looks me in the eyes and tells me she feels like i deserve to be one of the important ones, winks and, moving the gun slightly
out of alignment with my head, begins to open fire. Though the place was empty a second ago now it's full. people start falling
left and right. I stand and stare in shock. She guns down a young family with a few kids...i open my mouth to protest and find myself
staring down the barrel again.
'if you're not cool with this, you can be like them' she says.
I stand, heart racing, lump in my throat, as she lays waste to the entire area.
She walks slowly, following a path to the middle area where more people are. She is shrieking with joy and never seems to
have to reload.
I turn the other direction and run, down and down, floor after floor. Notice the police have blocked the entire area in so nobody
can leave. I'm midway through vaulting a staircase to try to alert someone on the outside when i realize i'm the only survivor in the area,
i was talking to her. I'm seen as an accomplice and probably won't be granted any quarter.
So i head upwards. find shelter where i'm safe for the moment.
Things are blurry here, but i keep running, keep finding bodies, the police try to kill me and i get away. I make contact with someone
on the outside and we realize that there's only one way to stop this.
I find her resting and talk. I'm really cheesy and super-positive, lay it on thick.
we end up sleeping together. Now we're a killer couple, only i'm not doing any of the violence, and i'm trying to pass info back.
The further we go, the more i notice people begin attacking each other. They think they're the special ones now, and that it's
all about survival of the fittest,
and that being the fittest means asserting your dominance by destroying the weaker thing.
she develops a pack of sycophants, and everyone else forms a passive, easily wiped out society.
the pack roams and creates carnage. every so often i break away to transmit info, and i'm usually good about not being seen.
I walk down a hall. found myself alone for a moment and i'm enjoying it. Then a girl walks the opposite direction towards me.
time slows, matrix, dress girl style.
we make eye contact.
out of the corner of my eye i notice the other girl has been peeking around a corner. she growls and rips the girl to shreds.
i run, barely get away.
I decide to hide out for a few hours, let things cool off.
then i decide to make peace; to try to weasel my way back into her circle.
As i'm about to find her i'm whisked into a little office by four people. one is covering my mouth..they start explaining.
..these people are all friends from my life but i can't recall who.
'we had to save you'
'she said she was going to cut you..we didn't think she'd keep you alive'
'she knows'
that being said, we hear her approach. She's more like a wild dog at this point, walking hunched over and snarling.
She's with a pack of a few people, black guy from earlier included.
We freeze and they start to pass. she starts to turn a different way, but black guy goes around the corner and looks into one of the
other doors to our office. he sees the sentry we had by the door, and calls a command.
the pack converges and they start knifing him and tearing at his skin..we hold still, we haven't been spotted.
i realize he's sacrificing himself for me, and us, and i can't allow that.
I stand, stretching myself out so i look taller,
they freeze now,
in a quick movement, i have her on her knees in front of me, facing away, my kershaw open and pushing on her skin.
the others look at her for info but she just bares her teeth.
she looks up at me and nods affirmation
we both know it has to be this way
and we both know that now, i've become the stronger animal.
i close my eyes, hesitiate, think how it shouldn't have to come to this.
i cut.
and again, to form a wedge shape.
there is no blood, just a sickly fleshy sound.
She falls to the ground and the others run.
i realize i'm going to have explaining to do to the police, even as others are appearing, finally relieved.
and in true comic book fashion, i realize that not only am i going to have to go underground, but i'm going to have to
do justice, and find all those who helped this happen.
I run after the fleeing sycophants and grab each ones arm, cutting a straight line deep across the forearm before letting go.
i will find them later,
when i'm good and ready.
as i turn and was probably preparing to ride off in the sunset, cheese style, my phone rings and wakes me up.
...this is what i woke up from.
one of those dreams where i feel fucked up over it even an hour or two after the fact.

2007-06-22T22:00:00.001-06:00

tonight sucks. might just give up and go to sleep for a few days.

..nuff said.

One more day that I've survived. Another night alone. Pay no mind I'm doing fine. I'm breathing on my own.

2007-06-20T23:08:00.001-06:00

i rode 14 miles tonight. in the past few weeks i've ridden almost 100 miles.
I know for some hardcore bikers that's like, two rides, but for a guy like me
it's something to be proud of.
My new job has ended up being a lot more stressful than i expected.
Hopefully i can work things out and calm it down, but it looks like a long, uphill battle.
really, that's just how my life seems to go.
got pulled over again, and no ticket. imagine that.

Find myself in a daze right now. nothing fully registers, nothing really seems to matter.
it's like i'm sleepwalking; i fill time, go from place to place,
but don't really care.
i know i'm just being a whiny baby, but i miss her like nothing else. it's unreal.
who'd have thought i'd let someone in far enough to become such a big part of my life.

listening to old boysetsfire. i never understood why they didn't get bigger.
definitely one of the more underappreciated bands ever.
and this is one of those bands that takes me through so many milestones in my life.
they begin when i was right out of high school, and broke up last year or the year before..
i managed to catch their last tour.
back in the day it was 'the day the sun went out', and 'until your heart stops'
and hanging out with someone i used to be close friends with.
it was working at the record store, seeing concerts every week, forming
the core of what would be the majority of my musical 'career'
they were there for the worst relationship of my life, the one that almost totally ruined me
and we went to see them..that was when they were at their peak
(and i was at my lowest)
and i told the singer the show was on par with tool, who i'd just seen after the aenima release.
and they moved on, and i sunk,
and i moved on, and they kept playing.

and it kind of bums me out thinking there won't be any more.

but they have a new band,
and sometimes i feel like a new person.

so maybe that's just how the years pass.

--Close your eyes and stay a while but take me where you go.
--Single file we walk the mile, wandering back home

father wears his sunday best. mother's tired she needs a rest.

2007-06-19T01:06:00.001-06:00

can't find the time, disturb the rythm
lose myself in the melancholy haze of
another wanting day
moving by streams, murder by avoidance
whisper in my ear from so far across the stream
we eat our young or they eat us
jackson pollack dreams, like hot lead through my mind
time is leaking now, tired, shadowed by murky figures
nine now, getting out of the car, blowing a wheel
--i'll fight it another day
rumors of unspoken evils, perpetrated by the seeming-squeaky clean others
who stand on pedestals
spew forth their vile dogma, push their agenda
while hiding behind the shroud
of a secret failure.
dizzy with lost hours, up late up early, move, move, move,
keep breathing,
pull muscle, lose rank, lose the breath held in, lips turn blue,
weight, so much weight, pushing in from all directions
recreate youth in the images on glowing screens, be something you're not
never were
ignore the dying
shun the living
give this all back to me now
with cupped hands i tremble, overtaken at last
by the storm inside
wind rushes through twisting canyon roads
but the rain begins in the host.
i open my voice
but all that emerges is smoke.

--i'll shiver the whole night through.

--wait. wait, i feel it unraveling. it comes with no warning at all, and takes me over.

Just a perfect day. You make me forget myself.

2007-06-11T01:11:00.001-06:00

My girl is out of town for three weeks.
It's only been since friday morning, but already i'm missing her like crazy.
turning into a wreck without her.
Keep trying to tell myself it's just three weeks. not forever. not all that long, really.
But when the most we've spent apart the last few months is a night or two, it seems like an eternity.
My bed doesn't fit right. I toss and turn and sleep very little. Keep staring at my phone
waiting for those texts i got so used to getting all day long. waiting to taste her lips.
It's so strange, because with any other girl i've been with i would've been praising the gods above
for such a break.
This one though...she's different. i'm different.
WE'RE different.
and it's amazing.
and so rather than thankful, i find myself pretty bummed out whenever it crosses my mind,
which is often.
I think about what three weeks is.
just a number of days. But it seems so long.
but we have plans, for after she gets back. For what we are and will become,
and what we'll do.
and i'm actually excited for once. Looking forward to stepping out of what's been my comfort zone
for so long,
and moving forward.
like i've been trying to do with the rest of my life.
I'm not afraid of things with this one, like i have been in the past.
rather, i'm loving every minute of what i've got, and doing my best not to take it for granted.
I know i haven't written about her much here, but that's because i usually only write about the negative things
i have and i see.
and she's not one of them.
I'm absolutely in love with her, fiercely and proudly. We have a bond that i've never felt.
The circumstances of our being together are enough to make me happy, and feel crazy about it,
from the first moment i saw her i knew i wanted her.
At the time, i'd broken up with the girl i was dating. My band played a show and she showed up with a friend.
I saw her and couldn't take my eyes off her. She's the first girl i've ever really actively tried to be with.
I had friends try to put in a good word for me, etc, but at the time she was dating someone, and both our lives
were crazy. She was drinking tons, and i was taking a lot of morphine. Things wouldn't have worked out,
and now i'm thankful we didn't try.
We lost touch after a while and I ended up getting back together with the other girl again for what would be
another failed attempt at keeping our relationship together.
I spiraled for a while after the breakup. drank a lot. did a lot of other stuff, but soon after i found a new thing inside of me.
I kicked most of my bad habits and as a result ended up drinking a ton. Finally i hit a wall and decided i was going to slow down
on that. In the last throes of my being a regular at the bar, i ran into her again and she started talking to me.
I was so excited i told all my friends...the girl i wanted last year, that hot redhead girl, actually talked to me the other night.
and then again the next weekend at the same bar.
Third weekend in a row, after we ignored our other friends and talked most of the night, she left..i was bummed.
But i got a text that said she'd always thought i was 'beautiful'.
the low-self esteem part of me scoffed at me being beautiful in any way, but the rest of me lit up..i was on fire.
i was so shocked, and amazed i didn't even know what to say. so i suggested we hang out.
A week or two later her parents invited us to go to a show with them, and from that moment on we've been together.
I've fallen more and more for her. We've grown together in ways i never thought was possible.
While i've tried to be a better person for me, I honestly owe a lot of who i've become, and am trying to become, to her.
I feel lucky each and every day i get to be a part of her life, and i've never been happier with a relationship.
There is(hopefully) so much more to come, and i can't wait.

I've been trying to get my shit together and be a man the last year or two. finding the human inside,
rather than the chemical.
stepping away from those things i've let harm me for so long.
And for the most part, i've done a good job.
I find myself becoming one of those losers who'd rather go on a bike ride and eat a healthy snack after
than pop some pills and smoke myself into oblivion.
One of those guys i would've made fun of...and really, still do, when i see them.
I've been riding, and walking, and all that stuff a lot lately.
and so my goal, while she's gone is to ride two out of every three days, and possibly swim laps every night if they ever open my pool.
My face is slightly sunburned from my past two days outings. I'm starting to look mexican again.
I may do the biking part of a triathlon with some friends next month.
how crazy is that?
who, of anyone that knows me, would've ever thought the words 'triathlon' and 'matt' in the same area.
It's not a sure thing, because i'm still building slowly on my stamina and endurance,
not to mention these old black smokers lungs.
but i'm working with that goal in mind, and will decide for sure by the end of this month. I think i can do it.
I think it weirds me out more than anyone can possibly know.
I still have some gut to lose, but i'm starting to notice definition in interesting places now, and starting to see
muscles move underneath skin where before was only dough. Basically i'm a lot closer to where i want to be, than i ever thought i would be.
and yet...still not as close as i want to be.
c'est la vie.

Something else i've tried not to write about much is my job.
because none of us want to get dooced.
But i have to...

January second or third, 1998 or '99(sorry i'm old, i don't recall for sure), my work burned down,
further adding to my strong distaste for the holiday season.
I showed up, and my favorite job ever was nothing more than watered down ash.
So i transfered, to bountiful and began a relationship with commuting. After quite a few months i couldn't handle the drive
anymore and got a job at AOL in ogden. I was there for 3 months or so, and then got an offer i didn't want to pass up.
I was offered a job working directly IN the computer industry, making more money than i'd even really considered before.
Only potential downside was it was in Salt Lake, but i like driving so i figured what the hell.
this was in late august of 1999.
Since that day, i've made the hour+ drive five days a week, rain, snow, hot summer(with no A/C for four years), whatever.
:on top of that i've almost always dated girls that didn't live in my home city..my first serious girlfriend ended up moving to SLC
before i got the job down there, the next one was from Morgan, a few in SLC, and one in American Fork, near Provo.)
When i got my car it had 60K miles on it and i made it really fast. Now it's nearing 240K. getting tired, wanting to sleep.
wanting to die.
I've sat through construction for the olympics that made nearly every days drive, both ways, upwards of two hours each.
I've sat for two hours trying to get to work, because people were rubbernecking a hot-air balloon show 200 yards away from the road.
I've risked my life fending off dumbasses who don't know how to drive (99% of utahns), and driving in conditions no other car
would even attempt to brave.
I get to work angry, frazzled, depressed, tired, wanting to give up on humanity. I work. I leave work and go through the same
emotions all over again, only now it's really hot as well. I get home and can barely think about what someone might
want to do. I usually just want to shut out the world i've just had to experience, and sleep.
It terrifies me to think of the hours of my life i've wasted sitting on hot pavement trying to get somewhere
i don't want to be.

In preparation to go back to school i'd agreed to demote myself. I was set to take a pay cut, and go from the professional
world of IT to phone tech support in clearfield, rather than salt lake.
This was supposed to happen tomorrow(monday).
Thursday, after i'd already written my farewell email i got a text from a friend/coworker. Apparently the desktop support guy
in Ogden had just put in his notice and he wanted to know if i was interested. I wrote back 'maybe'. He turned to his boss
and said 'matt MIGHT be interested in that desktop job' and his boss didn't say a word. He jumped up from his chair and ran
to his boss' office. Within minutes i had an email asking for my resume, what my pay requirements were, and what
schedule i'd need to work with school.
So i sent it in. Thursday's been my early day, so i took off not expecting a ton to come of it.

Friday morning, i make the drive in to work early, to miss traffic, and because the girl had to get up early to get to the airport.(sigh).
I arrive to the news that instead of posting the job, it's been given to me as well as a schedule that works perfectly with school,
the band, and time to spend with the girlfriend.
Crazy part is, rather than a pay-cut, i'm keeping my current pay, which is higher than the dept. is allowed to pay, technically.
I'm hoping that part doesn't cause issues with anyone in the long run. I feel kind of bad stepping into a department where my friends
will be the ones training me, but making more $ than them.
They said it was cool though.
Not only that, but my work is within biking distance, so i'll almost be getting a raise when you factor in gas and commute time.
I won't lose any of my vacation days (with the clearfield job i was going from 20+ paid days a year..seniority bitches...to 10).
I'll be the only one in my dept. there, so basically my own boss. I have my own office (where i plan to store my bike when i ride there,
because i don't trust racks..or people, i should say), and i get to build myself two machines to spec, one vista, one XP.
..and possibly a mac if i can swing it.
Still reeling from this news i sit down and get everything ready to work for the day.
i know, who actually WORKS their last day.
some of us have an 'ethic'. lame.
As i get all the required stuff open, i get to my Gmail notifier. Pull it open and check my inbox.
I've been approved for a student loan big enough to pay for almost two full semesters,
and it's subsidized, so no interest til i'm done with school,
and i should be able to reapply next year when i need it again.

I'm not sure i even have the words in me to describe how good friday morning was for me. If the girl would've been here
it would've been an absolutely flawless day.
Basically instead of settling for a job i didn't want, i get moved to a cool job with tons of perks
and best of all NO MORE COMMUTING FOR ME.
And now i can pay for school.
all in a morning.

For the first time in damn near ten years, just about everything in my life is centralized.
My girlfriend, my band, my school, and, praise allah, my work, are all in my hometown,
as are most of my friends these days.
Tomorrow when i go to work it will take me 10 minutes to get there, as it will every day from here on out.
My head is still trying to wrap itsself around that concept.

So, Salt Lake, i love you, and i know we've been together a long time, but i need some space.
I'm going to go for a trial separation period. We both need some breathing room.
I may drop by here and there, but for the most part, if i don't have to drive further than across town,
i'm not going to for now.

God it makes me happy to say that. I feel like this massive set of chains has been lifted from my shoulders.

All in all Friday was a pretty good day for me.
I stayed in SLC after work so i didn't hit traffic the last day i had to. Had some coffee and talked with an old friend.
Saw my parents for a bit when i got home. I decided i was going to celebrate and headed for the liquor store.
Almost as soon as i walked out of my parents house i got kind of down. I realized that here i was, celebrating,
and the person i most wanted to be with in the world couldn't be there with me.
I tried to push it out of my head, but my mood was fairly shot.
I went to the store to get some sailor jerry but they didn't have any so i treated myself to a bottle of tequila that was
probably a bit too expensive.
As i'm walking towards the line i notice a guy that's been eying me the whole time rush to get in front of me.
I'm not in any hurry, so i let him, look at some wine. I head closer and see the back of the guys head.
He's got a nazi eagle with a huge swastika on it. The register next to him is manned by a black girl.
I see her look over and notice it, turn around quickly.
I'm not down anymore. Now i'm filled with rage. The swastika was in the perfect spot,
where if i was to punch it, he'd drop like a sack of potatoes.
But the liquor store is run by cops here, and the nazis around seem to have a pretty tight-knit,
growing presence. Someone got killed not too long ago.
So i move to the register next to him and try to be extra nice to the girl. I can see hurt in her eyes
and i'm trying to stop the trembling in my hands.
I walk out and think about following the guy..do more out of the direction we're both heading that on purpose,
but i turn off and head home.
my mood, and my night are now officially shot.
people confuse me so much.
I don't understand how, in this day and age, there can still be people like that.
I'm not sure how there ever could be, but especially now.
Who can be that full of unjustifiable hatred and anger?
It's just not something i can grasp.

I am a virus, are you the cure?

2007-05-24T09:18:00.000-06:00

the war marches on.
gas prices continue to rise without rhyme or reason.
the oil companies tell us they have no choice
and then post record profits each quarter.
more H2's are sold every day, hovering around 10 miles to the gallon.
Strangely, most of them seem to have flags on them, or 'support our troops'.
support our troops so i can keep driving my absurd disaster of a vehicle.
How many stop to think that those troops are losing life and limb by the busload
inside their own version of that very same vehicle.
Caring and patriotism consist of far more than buying some sticker made in china
and slapping it on your beast and i think, if you're so gung-ho in support of this
administration, and this war, that you should be the one to step up and fight it,
rather than waving your flag from afar while the children of the lower classes
get shot at, blown up, and consistently screwed over by our government.
We've all been lied to, misled, diverted, scandalized,
told that if we're not in agreement then we're a threat.
The fat keep getting fatter, and the rich keep getting richer,
lining their pockets with the blood of the unfortunate.
Mitt Romney, when asked, said he regretted not going to Vietnam. Didn't go
because he was too important to bother with that whole 'draft' thing.
And when they asked his 93 ugly mormon children if they wished they could serve,
or had served they all sheepishly, yet somehow cockily said no,
but they wished our soldiers the best.
Of course they do. It's so easy to send well-wishes from afar.
From here in america where it's comfy, and white, and god-fearing,
clean, and not too hot, and so far removed from all those crazy people
we seem to fear so much. Desert people.
A school has been criticised for requiring intensive Islam understanding classes.
Criticised by who else, of course, but the right wing christians.
Because we all know that xenophobia is a much better alternative to acceptance
and understanding.
Because we all know that jesus is the one true lord, and without him the world
could not be saved.
And we all know that those heathen swine can never be saved anyway.
So why bother with them.
Why try to understand what it seems easier to kill?
But you can't kill Islam, just like we can't seem to 'fix' Iraq.
You can't fight a 'war on terror' anymore than you can fight a 'war on drugs'.
And i'll go as far as to say that invading Iraq for collusion with terrorists
is as intelligent as me shooting your 90 year old grandmother,
because once in the past, some girl broke my heart.
None of this makes sense, and none of it ever has and now, in a seeming final
twist of backwardness, the democrats have caved again, revealing themselves to be the
spineless, worthless cowards i've been saying they are for years,
but that everyone else seemed to think they'd stepped away from.
We've been let down by our president, his cabinet, the house and senate,
our local officials, and most importantly, by our people and ourselves.
Each day brings a new body count (americans only, for the most part), a new bomb in
the marketplace,
a new struggle to learn to walk again, from someone whos govermnent would send him to war,
but fight against the idea of giving him proper armor and training, and a regular, much-deserved
break now and again.
We've been betrayed time and again, by the very people who claim to be trying to save this world
for us.
And it needs to stop.

The secret dream has been drugged, it's fallen asleep.

2007-05-15T14:52:00.000-06:00

It seems like it's been a while since i've written anything worthwhile here.
well...if i ever have i guess.
A lot of it, i think, is that lately i haven't felt as much of the pain that usually drives me to create.
but that's not entirely it. last week and this weekend, i had a pretty severe bout of depression
that blindsided me.
Usually with that, though, i can point to something, or even some general words
to describe the what and why of it.
This one hit me so off guard, and for no discernable reason, that i didn't even know how to
deal with it.
Lately, aside from being really stressed about changing jobs and getting back in school,
and the fact that i'm not sure how i'm going to pay for it, and i know i won't get aid,
i've been generally better than i have been in a long time.
Which isn't to say i've turned into some happy-go-lucky dumbass, or have started wearing tie-dye.
i'll always be fairly dark and very cynical,
and i still get pissed off at the shit i see going on in our world.
It's just saying that i've hit this nice point in my life,
that i wasn't sure i would ever hit.
..at least not for as long as i've been here now.

That being said, on saturday i couldn't sleep and had some friends meet me at Einsteins for brunch.
..god, did i just use the word 'brunch'? maybe i have turned into a total douchebag.
I showed up before they'd gotten there, so i went across the parking area and sat under a tree,
leaned back in the shade to take advantage of the breeze, rolled a smoke, and chilled out for a minute.
It was a nice place to be at but every time i'd look up, this guy was staring at me.
I'm used to getting scuzzed everywhere i go. it's the curse of being me, i guess. It's happened for as long
as i can remember. People don't believe me about it until we go out in public a few times. really weird,
doesn't matter what i'm wearing or how i present myself..it just happens.
usually i brush it off pretty well, but i was still in that funk i mentioned above. I'd slept less than four hours,
cranky, etc.
that little spot of shade was the mornings saving grace, or so i thought.
But every time i'd look over that direction, dude was staring at me.
And it wasn't just a stare, or curiosity, it was direct condescention; that high-and-mighty look
that comes so easy to so many who shouldn't ever have it.
So as i'm sitting and trying to avoid this guys burning eyes i start to get upset. He gets up and herds his family
into the van, all the while keeping a watchful eye on me.
And i think:
Ok, yeah, i may have my nose pierced, and tattoos on my arm, and a long beard, i'll give you i don't look like your every day
clean cut mormon good-ol boy.
But i don't WANT to.
So this guy's looking at me like he's so much better than me and all i can think is
oh yeah man, I totally want to be like you, with a brood of ugly kids to herd into a caravan,
a wife with an ass bigger than the chair she was demolishing, bad ray bans, and khaki shorts that rest
a good two inches above the knees capping my skinny chicken legs. I'd love to have the same nonthreatening
haircut that 90% of utahns have, and to know when i lay my head down in bed (next to said chubby wife),
that god and jesus and the holy spirit love me and my inbred kids.
I think this all as i flash the guy the friendliest smile i've probably ever flashed anyone.
Busted. He looks everywhere but my direction, puts his wife behind the wheel(yes, the van was sagging a bit),
doesn't even kiss her, and hops on what may be the gayest motorcycle to ever grace a midlife crisis.

I may not be the nicest looking guy, and my vibe may let you know that i'm not like you are,
..or so i've heard anyway..
but i am who and what i am, and i wouldn't compromise that for all the wealth and glory to be had in the world.
And i'm happy to be that way.
I like being a 'real' person, rather than something straight off the assembly line.
I like being a 'good' person, not because some old dead guy, or rich white guy told me it's how i should be,
but because it's the right way to be.
I like making my own decisions and forming my own thoughts and opinions,
reading what i want to, watching what i want to,
and in my own way.
And i realize that this whole rant thing could easily be that of a 15 year old goth kid trying to act put-upon.
you're free to take it as that.
Honestly, i don't view individuality as something that's flaunted by rebelling against the norm,
shopping at hot topic, and being abrasive.
To me people who are so blatantly and aggressively trying to show their 'individuality' are just the same
as the other end of the spectrum that i'm talking about.
Forgive me for sounding old, but if you're such a boring person that the only thing that makes you interesting
is the way you change your hair or your clothes every other week,
then you're still a boring person.
just a nicely dressed one. a fashionable one.
I think it's far more important to think for yourself, to be an intelligent person, and to do the things you want to do in life,
than to pour yourself into some kind of unnatural mold.
And i'd much rather be poor, and outcast, and able to live how i want, than to be rich and trapped.
So look down all you want,
but it's not going to be me who turns to the prozac as an escape from how horrible the way i've made my life is.

::
yes i realize that may sound hypocritical from a guy who struggled with chemicals for a good majority of his life.
But that's why i added 'the way I MADE MY LIFE'.
My demons have been natural and internal for the most part, and i dealt with them how i did.
How many of the people here in utah, which has, i believe, one of the highest depression rates of any state,
could escape that by stepping back and thinking for themselves, rather than trying so hard to conform to something
so unnatural?
::
::
another addendum...my rant isn't about mormons. I know some of it may sound slanted that way, but it's really not.
I know they make up a big percentage of the people here, and they tend to fall into the things i've talked about,
but my target is the way people think and act, rather than a structure of religion.
::

I was annoyed, and planned to write about it that day, but was busy all day. This isn't like, some burning grudge i'm holding.

Jerry Fallwell died today. And it'd stooping to his level to say anything about him burning in hell.
plus i don't believe in that place.
But i will say that i don't think the world is really that much worse for the wear with his departure.
I'll miss shaking my head and being filled with righteous indignation every time i read something new you said, Jer-bear.

So i write about how i'm feeling a lot better, and then i rant.
It's ME, folks. would you expect anything else?

are you not entertained?!
ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?!

--How many times can a man turn his head, pretending he just doesn't see?

Ladies and gentlemen, i present to you....

2007-05-14T14:41:00.000-06:00

the squrrel-a-pult

found on davezilla.

a desperate plea

2007-05-11T15:24:00.000-06:00

Ok so if any of you have ever loved me, or do currently, or don't, maybe even hate me, but wish to be my savior...
Buy me these on ebay.

cause seriously....

and while i'm here, writing a(n unusually?) frivolous post i thought i'd mention that i find it really weird how it seems like most of the visits i get to my blog that actually HAVE referral info come from searches for either 'rachael ray' or some iteration of 'babes'
I know i wrote about rachael ray like, a year ago, and mentioned her briefly (the post was more about nigella...mmmmmm nigella, my sweet) but really. this isn't a rachael ray site, i don't watch tv unless i'm at my parents, so i haven't seen her show in ages, and really..don't give much of a damn about rachael ray, other than thinking she's pretty hot, and that her show was alright.
I honestly don't think i've EVER used the word 'babes' on here. really, i dunno. maybe i'm wrong. maybe when i blog in my sleep it's about hot babes in the US or just plain ol' sexy babes.
..but i don't think so.

So if you find me looking for that stuff, sorry to disappoint you.
but not too..

What's more chickenshit than fucking with a man's automobile?

2007-04-30T14:17:00.001-06:00

It's monday, haven't been sleeping well lately,
had an awful week last week.
I had a good night last night, but it was hot and i didn't get
much sleep again. I woke up seriously debating calling
into work and just staying in bed most of the day,
and running some errands i've been meaning to.
I really hoped this week would be better, and i wanted to be sure it started off
on the right note.
Reason and common sense(common sense?) won over and i decided
to get my tired ass up and head out.
As i'm walking to my car i notice the door isn't shut all the way
and the trunk is lifted.
I jump in and take stock.
the tally: 1 cd faceplate and four pieces of gum missing.
The camera in the back, and the Ipod less than a foot away from the
deck were still intact.
And it's almost more insulting to JUST have the faceplate stolen.
well..and the gum.
..
because if you take the whole deck you can get a lot more $,
and i can just replace the whole thing.
when you take a faceplate, you can't do shit with it but get a few bucks,
and i have to spend almost as much as a new deck just to buy a replacement.
and i mean seriously...you steal my mostly empty pack of gum?
i know i said these things recently, but what the fuck is wrong with people?
Maybe it is just 'stuff' that was taken, and granted it could've been much
worse. But still, that 'stuff' cost me hours of my time at a job i don't like
to get. And someone feels like it's ok to just stroll on by and grab it.
It's effortless. and it's criminal. and it's a piece of shit thing to do.
I remember getting up early in the morning to get some water, and leave some.
As i walked back up the stairs I saw a car i hadn't seen before parked in the spot
close to mine. I stood there in the window and just stared at it for a while..
something about it seemed shady to me.
well..now i know why.
and guaranteed if i see it again, there will be some words exchanged.
I know it's very cro-magnon of me, but i seriously wish that one of these days
i could walk up on someone who was doing that.
(because my car's been broken into more times than i can count, and even stolen once)
catch them in the act, and by surprise.
I'd love to take a pound of flesh for each thing that has been taken from my car
since i've got it, and from all my other cars just for good measure.
..or at least give them an equivalent hospital bill.
Because i may dabble in pacifism here and there, but i am DEFINITELY of the opinion
that what some people need, more than anything else in life,
is a good old fashioned ass beating.
And i'd gladly be the one to deliver it.

That being said, a bit of dialogue from pulp fiction comes to mind:(thanks imdb):
Lance: Still got your Malibu?
Vincent: Aw, man. You know what some fucker did the other day?
Lance: What?
Vincent: Fucking keyed it.
Lance: Oh, man, that's fucked up.
Vincent: Tell me about it. I had it in storage for three years, it was out for five days
and some dickless piece of shit fucked with it.
Lance: They should be fucking killed. No trial, no jury, straight to execution.
Vincent: Boy, I wish I could've caught him doing it. I'd have given anything to catch
that asshole doing it. It'd been worth him doing it just so I could've caught him doing it.
Lance: What a fucker!
Vincent: What's more chickenshit than fucking with a man's automobile?
I mean, don't fuck with another man's vehicle.
Lance: You don't do it.
Vincent: It's just against the rules.

First they came for the Jews.

2007-04-25T13:35:00.000-06:00

Everyone should read this article.

It's a sad and rather scary commentary on what's happening here in the good ol'
us of a.

oh, and sorry for the downtime. my brain doesn't compute bills sometimes.

2007-04-20T15:56:00.000-06:00

here's something i'm kind of surprised, and yet somehow not, nobody's really reporting here.

Between that and our potential new cold war with Russia, i'd like to be the first to say 'welcome to 50 years ago.'

2007-04-17T16:43:00.001-06:00

So i actually heard the term 'post-imus era' this morning.
what the fuck is wrong with you people?

and on that note...
what the fuck is wrong with people in general
We always hear about how we are the most advanced society in the world,
how technology has made the world a better place, and that america is one of the most
prosperous and powerful countries (i originally wrote 'companies' without thinking) in the world.
So is this the benefit we reap?
a world where anna nicole dominates the news,
an irrelevant old hack using an outmoded form of broadcast, who uses an equally irrelevant phrase,
can be the most important thing in our minds,
and where crazy fucking people aren't just crazy fucking people on their own anymore,
but have the ability to kill innocents on a massive scale.
..a job formerly reserved for our president and others of his ilk...
where people in a country torn by a war we created, and that they now wage on themselves as well,
can wander into a business and blow themselves, and tens, if not hundreds of people up.
our machines have advanced,
while our bodies, minds, morals, responsibility, culture,
our existence,
have degraded.
the arts are a joke, literature practically nonexistant, philosophy laughable,
quality of life sacrificed for quantity of available THINGS.
things that mean nothing.
our nature caged, air polluted, food prepackaged, processed to all hell.
world crumbling, bombs exploding
dollar failing
work being shipped to other countries while people here who already have jobs
complain about people who live here (legally or not) taking them all away.
what makes it ok for the rich white folk to outsource work to other countries,
but not ok for some mexican guy who LIVES here trying to scrape by,
by taking the job you wouldn't do anyway, and for a lot less?
xenophobia taking over.
hard-line christianity making the big(and wrong) decisions
the people in power ignoring real pressing issues and turning the smallest
into the flavor of the week
and the spineless media, who should be the ones pushing social change,
caving in
to corporate sponsors
and hushed governmental memos.

These days i find myself to be losing faith in something i thought i had already lost it in.
i've never understood this world, nor can i ever
..can we ever.
but it just gets more and more confusing.

Struggle for the words and then give up.

2007-04-12T09:37:00.000-06:00

so kurt vonnegut died.
and i don't really know what to say that won't be said,
and said better by a million other people out there.
the man was a genius, a mad outsider looking at this crazy world
and picking at all its flaws, loving them all the while.
I've spent some good and bad times with vonnegut. laughed and cried,
thought deeply, lightly, and gone crazy.
I've always referred to him as our greatest living author.
but no more.
Now he'll fall into the pantheon of old dead dudes who i look up to
in admiration and awe.

::
I started writing this last week. it doesn't exactly say what i intended it to,
because of my recent troubles keeping a flow while writing, and i've been hedging
on posting it, because i have a feeling some people are going to take it personally.
..and then i think about it and realize that if you take offense to what i'm saying
then maybe you need to step back and take a look at why you might.
that said:

What is fidelity?
what is honor?
do these words hold any meaning?
am i old fashioned or naive
for believing in such ideals anymore?
foolish, even?
being trustworthy has always been paramount in my life,
whether i've advertised that or not.
flip the corner of my pad like a deck of cards.
when i speak it is with a raspy voice.
hope i'm not getting sick again.
back to it.
i don't understand some of the things i see.
relationships lately,
just don't seem to work.
everyone's always looking for the next best thing.
nobody content with what they have.
i had something in mind when i started this last night
but now it's slipping from me.
is it honorable to start a war to protect democracy
rather than using democratic process to find a common
solution for everyone?
is anyone really ever faithful?
i've never cheated on someone.
can any of you honestly say that?
we all make mistakes, and we all make foolish decisions
at some point or another.
god knows i've made more than my share in my days.
but i try to make sure my mistakes are the kind that affect none
other than myself
and when they do, i try not to affect someone else in a way
designed to intentionally disregard their feelings,
or purposefully put them in a bad place.
so many people cry to me about how untrustworthy
friends are,
or the opposite sex is,
and then turn around and do exactly what they're upset over to someone else
as if it's ok now.
as if
it's only bad when it happens to them, and not when it comes from them.
bottom line is, integrity is integrity, and if you've got it you do,
and if not, well...
you are what you are, however you want to justify it.
it just hits me as really sad last night and this morning
that i think the majority fall into the latter category.
and now it's another new day and i still feel the same.
can't stop thinking about it.
and the funny thing is i'm not even struggling with these thoughts
in relation to my own life.
because i'm comfortable where i'm at. and as i said, i trust myself as well.
so why the big deal?
way i see it, without our word, our bond, and our standards, what are we?
i think of myself as something of a loner most of the time.
at the very least someone who generally doesn't NEED to be around others a lot.
but i still try to be true to the ones i am around, and even the ones i'm not
but have to deal with as a human being.
am i just a fool?
are the meanings behind all these words just my deluded pipe dream?
and if so, then what's the point of even trying in this life?

ah, humanity...how do i love thee.

2007-04-05T12:49:00.000-06:00

tweak the gas pedal up and down,
pace the field of vision.
slowing too much to make good time
but this is not a moment for uninvited eyes.
relax, keep your focus on the road.
easier said than done.
make it work.
driving home from boise, midday
isis the night before,
time in the swimming pool, before rain came
watching geese migrate.
a trip to see a band,
and spend some time
away from the hometown
and work
and all the other extraneous stuff
we don't need right now.
need a break, a longer trip.
but for now...things are good.
do a lot of thinking on the way back,
my place in this world, the way things are
they way they're going
how they fit in, how this fits in,
and her. my god..
try to keep my eyes open
hawks rest watchful on fenceposts and road signs
lonely sentinels looking beyond our rapid transit.
a week and a half now, til 27's gone.
so weird. SO weird.
time passes whether i want it to or not
and in a quick instant, as wheels approach from behind,
i am done.
ease on the gas and resume speed
the sun beats warm on dark metal and uncovered skin,
we move
with the ferocity of conquering armies
cross mountain and desert,
green and dying
my arm has become a peeling mural
from three thousand years before me
people keep asking who designed it
and i don't have a good answer.
and as we roll on, toward home
i find myself both admiring, and disliking
this bizarre place i find myself in.
but for now all is well.

Loading my questions like a shotgun. You can fuck every chance with one shot.

2007-03-29T08:45:00.000-06:00

god i hate john mayer/jack johnson.
so much nonthreatening garbage.
all wrapped up in an easy bugeyed package.
and i hate being right about things so often.
my weird gut that never lies.
functioning on no sleep, early day at work
on the tail of a late one.
wind over the trees
through the canyon
over my face
under my thumb.
winding roads that lead nowhere.
deliberate abstractness, purposeful distance
lack of...
didn't do that, though i wanted to.
wonder how many songs have the word 'california' in them.
far, far too many, whatever the number.
my eyes blur
the world melts together
..in a sober way
if you could call this sick-deprivation sober.
words fail me again.
keep writing about not writing.
filler, perhaps?
three mechanics talk shop in here,
looking angry, keyed up.
won't stop looking at me.
think i'd be used to that by now, but no.
another lady talks about huge rubber tupperware tubs.
rubber baby buggy bumpers?
lungs still burn
but i roll a smoke anyway.
step away from this.
old conservative hippies reaffirm their faith in the lord
pat each other on the shoulders
god is great and god is good.
but what the fuck has he ever done for you?
dude fires up his valkyre
everyone jumps.
six cylinders of screaming energy
a lions essence captured in bended steel and mean, elegant lines.
i get a message and it takes me a long time to figure out how to respond to it
.
and i am unsatisfied.
a girl casually asks a friend if we're dating.
no, she says
just friends.
and i think of ulterior motives.
guess some tastes run in the family
but i'm not the guy i was back then.
not even close.
and on that note, a girl comes in that i always used to find attractive
and now she's a mom
which isn't necessarily bad in itsself
except, she looks like a mom. extra weight and matronly clothes included.
if she's happy i guess that's all that matters.
but there seem to be so few left near my age
that haven't fallen into those traps
and become that person.

been taking a lot of time off lately,
or working from the coffee shop.
because i just can't seem to find the motivation anymore
to even show my face at work.
and i was talking about a transfer, but HR can't seem to be bothered to answer a poor peons questions
in any kind of timely fashion.
so once again i find myself in limbo with the school situation. unsure if i can go back for summer
because i'm not sure what/where/when i'll be working.
it's extra hard to put in any kind of effort especially because of my coworker situation.
and i'm sure plenty have heard me bitching (i just refer to him as slackass most of the time)
but in a two person department, this one ends up carrying the vast majority of the weight.
he never comes in to work. when he does he works four hours tops and goes home on 'lunch'
and usually doesn't come back. when he works from home, he often doesn't even send an email all day
or respond if i need to get ahold of him.
so what does the other half do?
i'm sick of pulling his weight, and mine, for only my pay.
i added up the days last year, and he'd taken almost half again the allowed days off
and only marked the max we supposedly get.
whereas, i used to feel like i had to fight to even get a day off.
on thursdays we switch shifts so i can go shooting with my dad. i come in early and leave early.
last thursday i showed up early after a long night. then at the usual time he comes in i get a text
'i'm not coming in today, it's my wife's birthday'
...
and you couldn't have let me know that in advance?
so now i just say i'm not coming in when i don't want to.
no more asking.
no more getting fucked.

a tall, leggy blonde and her friend walk in. glance my way.
not as hard as i glance their way though.
the nature of being a male, i guess,
is that no matter what's going on in your life
you always look.
and you always, even if just for that brief instance, wonder what it'd be like.
and if you're good, you leave it at that.
and i always have.
even though i doubt i'm 'good'.

something about tall girls.
.
something about girls..of all flavors.

you will all be the death of me someday.

--Walking backward.
--This is my mistake.
--Always backward.
--This is my mistake, my mistake.

semi-spirited

2007-03-28T21:47:00.001-06:00

i've had a hard time writing lately.
seems like the more i feel i need to get out,
the less words want to come.
and i'm rarely satisfied with the ones that do.
picked up a cold saturday. went to a concert that night.
saw murderball live on sunday.
moved all day monday.
and..you guessed it..
still sick today.
and today's turned into tomorrow...
a new today.
nighttime.
tonight feels ominous. one of those nights.
feels like everything could fall apart
with a word,
or a breeze in the wrong direction.
so i disconnect, much as i can.
try to separate head from body
or at least distract it.
finishing outlining my sleeve on friday hopefully.
seeing isis that night, and then heading up to boise to see them again.
forming a tradition, i guess you could say.
i only have so much of me, and lately it feels like all of it is spread as thin as can be.
if i'm not playing music i'm trying to write, getting ready to get back to painting,
moving, breathing, giving myself mentally and physically, deeply,
surface
trying to keep the candle burning
to put off light but still have some fuel in reserve
and sometimes i don't think i can do it.
and i say this, but i still breathe
so obviously i haven't given everything i have to give yet.
though in the past i think i've tried pretty hard to do that.
some friends come in drunk, say hi, hang for a minute and leave.
the other friends are late.
to be expected really.
so i sit and try to keep writing.
where do we go from here?
what does the thought become, at this point?
when do my tired lungs begin to heal
and feed the body what it so desperately needs.
when does the calm settle
and desire fade into quiet.
friends arrive.
battle lines are drawn.
we play chess.

I can't find any protection from your burning sun

2007-03-19T20:51:00.000-06:00

fire in the background, unwatched
muscles tense, fibers rip and tear
beads of sweat force their way to the surface
plant both feet, look up
feel that ridge that forms, slowly
watch as it becomes something else
silently, in a stoic fashion
fight for breath, fight for life
fight to regain something from those years
of neglect and misunderstanding
plod slowly over uneven ground.
the weather changes
but the people surrounding stay the same
arms tremble with anticip...
well you know the rest
the corner of the mouth pulls taut
this is eternity
and nothingness
nothing new
a lump in my throat, something in the air
this fondness, this cool monday night
burning into the wish
that i could pause time
and live all the minutes as hours
get so much more done that way
without feeling so lost
in those torturous minutes
spent so far away
from where i need to be.

--Blue, blue windows behind the stars, Yellow moon on the rise.
--Big birds flying across the sky, throwing shadows on our eyes.

2007-03-15T15:32:00.000-06:00

had the funeral today.
so much talk of christ, and god, and resurrection,
and some very nice things said about the actual human being
that was laying in front of everyone.
at the coffee shop now:
someone quotes forrest gump.
after all these years.
it must suck to be named jenny.
or any of the myriad girl names us stupid guys seem to find it
so original to throw quotes at.
everyone keeps asking why i'm dressed up
and then looking embarassed when i tell them.
'it's ok' i say.
why be embarassed for something you didn't know?
smoked too much today already, throat hurts.
guess that means i am stressed over all this.
the last hour flew by, so much so that i didn't even really
get anything accomplished.
tired today, and my head is elsewhere.
want to go smoke again, but don't like the people out there
so i wait.
bide my time.
and post this pointless blog.

I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed

2007-03-13T10:20:00.000-06:00

my aunt died on sunday.
and i've been drafted as a pallbearer.
a funeral, a viewing, grieving strangers
who share some vague genetic connection.
all so sterile and unnatural.
the whole ceremony just seems obscene.
so i get a suit, and my dad makes me get a tie
even though i don't understand why people still wear ties.
i get a red one
because, weren't they cool like, last year
with all the lame-o pseudo gothy bands?
and my aunt's gone.
the one i really enjoyed talking to when i got the chance.
the one with a truckers sense of humor,
who'd sneak out to smoke when she thought nobody was looking
and sometimes offered me one in conspiratorial tone.
who wore a wig but didn't need to,
and looked so frail and weak the last time i saw her,
oxygen tubes on wheels.
but still kept her dry wit.
talking about that DAMN bush.
everyone's shrinking,
getting older,
getting older...
fuck.
was called 'young man' last night while being fitted for my new suit
and all i could do was kind of smirk bitterly.
because i'm not so young anymore,
and i've been noticing how everyones parents, relatives, heroes,
children
are changing.
withering,
growing,

dying.

asking me to take part in..this...

i understand it's considered an honor
and it's tradition,
but i am not honored by it,
and i'm not looking forward to it.

--A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away
--Safe and sound

The walls are built up, stone by stone, the fields divided one by one

2007-03-07T21:55:00.000-07:00

moving again
beating a retreat.
not sure where to yet, or how.
there's an offer on the table that i think i'll take, if it is really an offer,
but i have a few reservations.
we'll see i suppose.
saw snow patrol and sleepytime gorilla museum this week.
both shows excellent, but i have to say that musically, snow patrol
...hell...nobody holds a candle to sleepytime's live show.
tomorrow's a midnight showing of the 300.
i've been waiting so long to see this movie. damn excited.

tired this week.
beat.
busy as fuck.
but worth it.
i can live a week without sleep
or food.
without time to myself.
though, i've been craving yoga and not had that time. i think tonight will be one of those nights.
getting pretty good at it now.
my coffee's getting cold,
pizza hasn't arrived yet.
lots of things i wanted to say tonight.
lots of things i feel like i need to write
but it's so distracting here right now i can't seem to get anything out.
maybe some other time.

--We can reach our destination, but we're still a ways away"
--But we're still a ways away

stuff.

2007-03-01T09:21:00.001-07:00

sitting at the coffee shop. working from here for the third time this week.
far too many hours to spend around these people.
far too much coffee and smoking this week.
watched a man try to break into a house across the street the other night.
he knew i was watching him and he did it anyway.
and when the door and windows were locked, he just kept walking.
talked to the roommate (who hasn't spent a night there yet...i've spent three)
and i think we've decided to call an end to this experiment.
and find somewhere better to live.
and here's the thing...
it kind of brusies my ego.
not that i'm moving again so soon, because it'll at least be a while.
but because i try to be an open person, and cool with things and people.
and i may have posted about it here at some point, but i remember how mad i got when my
dad would lock the doors of the car as we drove through the downtown area.
'never know what could happen'.
as disgusted as i am with the human race, there's always been an idealistic streak in me.
that tries to love and accept everyone as a good person.
but fact of the matter is, not everyone is a good person.
and here's the clincher.
i'm not afraid for my safety, in spite of the gunshot i heard, and in spite of living in the heart of gang territory.
i'm a decent sized guy, and i'm pretty good at diffusing potentially bad situations.
i've still never been in a fight.
i like that fact.
what i am afraid for,
and this is the part that kills me,
is my stuff.
i wrote not too long ago about my mixed feelings on all i own being able to fit into the corner of my parents garage.
and i'm always writing about casting off the trappings of this modern society.
getting rid of the things we don't need, etc.
but you'll notice that i always balance it with my current status, using the very things i think are unnecessary.
and it's like this. I don't own a lot, but i probably own a lot i don't need.
but the fact of hte matter is i do live in this material society,
and everything i own i've worked long and hard, at a job i absolutely can't stand
to be able to have.
i can be a generous person.
and try to be when i can.
but i am human, and i am western, and i definitely do own a sense of property, posession...
...mine...
those few things i own are all integral parts of my life.
i'm talking clothes, kitchen stuff, exercise equipment, music,
and lets not forget the dvd's i've spent years accumulating.
i'm damn proud of that collection, and i watch movies often enough i consider them important
to my happiness and well being.
the girl across from me sings along with the radio. a dave matthews song i've never heard.
she sings 'save me'
save me.
that's how i felt yesterday.
it's getting really daunting trying to get everything going.
i was thinking, if only someone would step in and hand me the money
for a new place, and school, and medical bills, and...
stuff.
but that would never happen.
maybe i wouldn't want it to.
..or would i?
i've started looking into student loans.
but in spite of being told credit doesn't matter for them,
all the websites suggest a cosigner.
so maybe back to the parents again for help. much as i hate to do that.
and insurance finally did start paying on my surgery,
but not nearly as much as they should have.
leaving me pretty hard up until i finish paying on it.
and then there's the possibility of paying double rent, depending on when we move, and what we find.
because we're obligated to give 30 days notice.
and yes, i'm aware i just blew my tax return, so save your 'i told you so's'
that's just how it had to be.
i blew my return on the in-line skates, and rent, and a pistol.
it's been too snowy and wet since to try the skates.
and rent, well...it's rent. but i'll be getting some of it back, hopefully.
i now own a pistol (as well as my shotgun).
strange to think about.
me who used to be so anti-gun.
and now i've finally shot one, where before my experience was limited to the shotgun.
for a first timer, i actually did really well.
wouldn't have won any contests, but my grouping wasn't bad, with only a few not going where i wanted them to.
my friend rented a desert eagle when we went.
god, what an absurd and yet somehow attractive gun. accurate as hell too.
I hate to use this word to describe what i'm describing,
but mine is sexy.
it's a springfield 1911, .45. it's silver with all the accents in flat(tactical) black.
i've gone from feeling really weird about it to being very comfortable with how it works
and how it fits me.
i still have my inherent misgivings about guns, but i think that's good
because it keeps me respectful.
i think too many people lose that fear/respect for weapons, and that's how they get hurt.

so yeah. almost totally a redneck now. oh well.
it's fun, right?

we close our eyes, and the world has turned around again.

2007-02-21T21:22:00.000-07:00

ok, so i'm going to be an insensitive asshole for a minute.
well...i guess you can't fight what you are?

seriously though:
and i know i've said similar before.
but when the fuck was anna nicole smith worth 24 hour news coverage?
honestly, when was she worth half a seconds worth?
and britney spears?
shaved her head, day of rehab.
big deal.
i'm sick of hearing about stupid shit like this.
and it's not even that i gravitate towards it.
it's that you can't ignore it.
from tv, to print, to the web news, to conversations everywhere.
..to this blog apparently.
i don't get it.
why do these people constantly get encouraged?
who is it out there that cares? aggressively follows the 'news' about them.
paris is rich, britney's a dumb hick, and anna was a goldbricker.
and i have to add, i never found her attractive before..the surgery..the fat..the unfat again.
you can kind of just tell some people are worthless.
and yet our 'news' and our media gives them some perverted sense of worth,
substance where there is none.
and we, the masses, swallow it up.
is it just easier to read about brainless whores than how many people got bombed today
as a result of our actions
and our ignorance?
has modern media become the sand we ostriches bury our heads in
so we can't see the important things happening?

i've been thinking a lot lately,
and writing a little,
about my mixed feelings on this modern society
it's tough.
on one hand, i feel like technology will destroy
either itsself, or us, or both simulatneously.
on the other, i blog from my powerbook.
we live in a time where global communication is commonplace
and often instantaneous.
one can go anywhere in the world
in a matter of days.
this also means that a disease that, in the past, would've been confined
to a few people in a small village
now has the potential to spread worldwide and kill millions.
we have advanced medicine, but as we advance so do the diseases.
we have nearly reached our last wave of
antibiotic medicines trying to keep up.
bacteria are just getting started.
i'm not one of those guys who longs for a 'simpler time'.
i know times are always hard. i'm idealistic sometimes,
but not stupid.
i think what i long for is a time when things were
more meaningful, if such a time ever existed.
i want the work i do to benefit me,
not give me a meagre check while my bosses get filthy rich.
and yes i am aware there's always been a large gap between 'rich' and 'poor'
i want the food i eat to be real. local. renewable.
i'm tired of seeing labels and not recognizing any ingredients
as something i could actually eat, buy, or even taste on its own.
does my drink really need ..well. pick up whatever food is in front of you and pick a big word.
one you may have learned in chemistry class.
is it really that important to save a few pennies and drink high fructose,
rather than sugar, honey, etc?

this may sound like a bit of a joke
coming from someone with a history such as mine,
but are we really benefitting from any of the shit we put in our bodies these days?
i guess you could call me one of those (mostly) reformed, holier than thou, ...well..i'm not going to say health nut.
because i'm not, by any means.
but these days, aside from smoking, i'm a lot more conscious of what i do to myself.
i spent too long breaking me,
and now i'm trying to reverse the damage as much as possible.
so yeah, i'm kind of one of those guys now.
i get tired of being around people who always have to be trashed to function,
even though that was me for a long time.
however...even when i was like that, i was always fairly productive.
what i see anymore is that, and static.

it's just a waste.
and i try to never say the word i just did,
but i'm really trying to be smart, and do the right thing,
and move as far beyond all that as i can.

i can truthfully say i'm at a point in my life where i feel far more stable than ever before.
i still suffer the beast, depression,
but i deal with it better now,
and i think i deal with just about everything better than i have in the past.
things are stressful, always will be,
but things are ok
and i'm really enjoying that fact.
how gay does that sound?

i'm officially moved into the ghetto now (central O-town, what?)
and i realize this..hm.
i knew this before i moved.
but it really hit home when i walked out the door and noticed two pairs of shoes hanging over the power line.
was done moving stuff in last week.
i've only spent one night there so far, and i haven't even really begun unpacking.
my neighbor seems cool enough though, and it sounds like her and her babies have a lot of fun.
i thought i was going to see a fight or a murder or something the other night.
out smoking, a couple fought across the street, one holding a baby.
there was lots of yelling, and shoving, and a very menacing looking squeeze.
i didn't know what to do, because i try to mind my own business for the most part,
but fortunately both parties went their separate ways before things escalated.
i hear fights in the street constantly,
and wasted people seem to shamble by at all hours.
but rarely do they make eye contact.
i'm beginning to think the only difference between the ghetto, and (at least) middle class neighborhoods
is that there's an element of shame to people who are more well off.
arguments should be concealed, as should intoxication, depression,
anything considered lower.
without that (white?) shame, people feel free to take a lovers quarrel out in front of the house
instead of simply beating them in the security of their own homes.
i think i'll explore this more as i see more.
i'm still green, and i definitely don't feel like this is where i belong.
but does anyone?

my job search continues.
i have an interview friday here in ogden,
but it'd be a rather large pay cut, and i found out the tuition reimbursement they were so quick to point out
doesn't kick in for a year.
it's a goddamn shame it's so hard to be paid adequately for your passions.
back to the BS of modern society.
does anyone really get fired up at the prospect of telemarketing,
or real estate,
or web development?
it's all so intangible,
so worthless.
and i'm still frustrated.
because school's so expensive,
and so hard to find time for.
and i screwed myself ten years ago.
and it sucks because, since being a paramedic doesn't carry an actual degree
i can't get financial aid.
where i feel like it's an important job (why i want to do it)
and should be encouraged,
rather than roadblocked.
but i'll get there..maybe later than sooner.
and i can stop feeding the corporate machine by hand
and start doing some good in this world.

...just so i can watch it blow itsself to hell.

i'm on an ocean, that has a brain and makes us dream

2007-02-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

well, we signed the rental agreement on our new ghetto home.
everyone's worried we're going to get shot.
i'm not too concerned about it.
it was funny though, before the landlord had even unlocked the door to our place,
some junkie came through the front area and asked for the
'dude with the dreadlocks' (the guy who rented our place before) and seemed
pretty upset when he realized he wasn't going to be able to score here.
fuckin loser.
so yeah. might take up slinging crack, as i figure we have a built in
customer base already.
in unrelated news (you'll see why i qualify this in a second)
tax returns are filed, accepted, and processing.
i'm getting about the same as i do every year, which is cool.
I know there's all this stuff i should use it for..school, car, etc.
but i just can't make myself. i set aside the extra each month on purpose,
partly because i know i'm no good at saving $ on my own.
so to me, a big chunk of a tax return is something that i'm obligated to spend
on fun stuff that i want, rather than day to day stuff that i need.
who knows, in a few months maybe i'll be wishing i'd saved it, but i haven't
really regretted it so far (except the two lemon motorcycles i've used it on).
my plan is as follows.
1. i'm finally going to get my pistol. i'm stoked, because i've been planning
to get one for quite a while now, but have just not had the $ together at the same
time. i'm extra stoked because i'd decided on a cheaper model than the one i really
wanted (still pricey) so i could get other stuff. the other day i found the nicer
one online for the same price as my cheap model. all i have to do is pay a local
company $15 to sell it to me legally. i'm getting a springfield armory .45 1911
in tactical black/silver. and man is it badass..all the bells and whistles, and
a design so solid it's hardly changed in over 100 years.

2. i'm going to get the rollerblades i was hoping to get for xmas, and thought about
buying last summer, but didn't.
this will be good. i didn't ride my bike as much as i wanted last year, but i still
rode it fairly often. i'm going to remedy that this year, but sometimes i just didn't
feel like lugging it around, and i didn't have a rack, so i always had to start
from the same point.
i can strap on some in-lines and start from wherever i want/need.
watch for the upcoming post about me breaking myself.

3. should be able to finish my sleeve..or at least get it mostly done.
it won't be truly finished for quite some time, because i'm not even going to
start on the coloring for a few months, most likely.
The design should be done and shaded in the next session though(i hope)

and.
4. i'm going to get either the sleeping bag, or the tent i've been drooling over
for a year now,. (then pick up the other one when it actually warms up).
I wanted to get these last summer but never got around to it, and didn't
actually go camping at all. i was bummed when it cooled down and i realized that.
so..once i get that stuff bought, my entire camping setup, 2 person tent/bag/stove/pack,
minus food and clothing, should weigh under ten pounds.
modern technology can be a beautiful thing sometimes. (more on that next post)
After that, all i really need for non-deathcamping excursions is a nice water purifier,
some more all-purpose hiking boots (mine are designed more for specific rocks)
and perhaps an altimeter, if someone would *cough cough* be so kind as to buy me one.
kidding. i'll get one for myself eventually.
.
i suppose.

not bad though. i've really debated putting it towards a truck, or a big screen tv,
but this is the stuff i really want right now, that i've been putting off for a long
time. (may sacrifice the bag or tent for a wii temporarily too..who knows).
it'll be nice having a few new toys, and more than just one major purchase to show for
my return.
And i think it's all good stuff.
i mean, i love shooting my shotgun, but can only do that once a week really, and
nowhere even close to where i live. The pistol will let me do that, but closer,
and as often (and cheaper) as i want. plus it's just damn cool. I figure if i treat
it well, i won't ever really need to buy another one. It really has turned into a
fun hobby, and a bonding experience with my dad (the pistol will let me expand that
to a group of friends that gets larger every time i talk about it, seems like),
and it's relaxing..which, in my life, is always a positive.
rollerblades will help me keep getting in better shape. and it'll work my cardio,
and lungs, which i usually neglect. I remember it being a lot of fun, and i look forward
to spending some cool summer nights rolling around parking lots and stuff.
i'm getting the aggressive style..i'm kind of a sissy, but once i get comfortable
we'll see if i can work up the balls to actually try to do some tricks again.
(again, see above about my upcoming post about destroying myself)
i'd like to get comfortable enough with my bike to start using it for its intended
purpose as well.
we'll see. my main concern is just getting the rest of the way into good shape.
my sleeve..well, there's no real outwardly positive thing i can say about getting it
done, aside from the fact that i think it'll look really good. i've put a lot of thought
into this one, and it means a lot to me, and when all is said and done it will have
cost me quite a bit of money, blood, and pain.
but that's what it's all about right?
fuck yeah.
the tent/bag is cool, because it'll mean i actually get up and do some regular camping
and hiking again this year. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do, but
what with trying to ruin my body so hard the last decade or so, it's something that
i sometimes forget about and totally neglect.
nothing compares to the feeling of being out in nature, by myself or with close friends,
up above all the noise of the city, the pollution,
the people...
nothing at all.
honestly, most of the time when i'm on a good hike, all i can think is how much
i'd rather just keep walking and disappear than turn around and return to all this.
i like to hike alone, on unplanned routes, without taking my cellphone. sometimes
i'll spend more time trying to find a spot to start where there isn't anyone around,
than i will actually hiking. same goes for fishing (which i think is possibly the
cause of my lack of an actual catch last year.)
god...i'm sure not looking forward to the oppressive heat this summer,
but i really can't wait for at least some warmth, some sun, some dirt i can walk on
that's not going to be muddy and snowy all the time.
i look forward to fishing, and camping, riding, shooting (jesus, am i a hick or what?)
spending time with my friends. drinking corona with lime.
maybe even doing some swimming.
but maybe not.
and if i sacrifice those two things temporarily to get a wii.
well...have you played it?
it's a workout in itsself.
soon there will be a generation of ripped kids who've never stepped foot out of doors,
or into a gym, class or otherwise.
so again, something semi-positive.

i'm trying to be positive, because i feel like there's so much negativity in me right now.
i'm trying to fight that.
not really winning, but i'm finding the joy in setting goals for myself. i'm still
getting used to that whole concept.

on that note, my other project, formerly my solo project, is finally getting started.
i have a drummer, and a keyboardist/accordion player, and a potential bassist,
and some friends that'd be willing to help here and there.
it'll be a nice change of pace. TSB will still be my primary focus, of course,
but it'll be good to have a band where i can write the music, and sing more than scream,
and actually start playing guitar again for.
i've decided to salvage some music from an older project i was working on as well.
it's too good to let go to waste, and it's already in the vein i'm shooting for.
i'll update here as i find things out.

hm, what else.
i'm not good at these, state of the union posts.
more comfortable writing free-form, and downer stuff.

i tried yoga for the first time last night. I'm not as sore today as i expected to be,
but my whole body's kind of a dull throb.
it's really cool though..i could do everything except for one move, and i've had this
strange feeling of warmth/peacefulness since then. It takes me back to when i used
to meditate a lot, only i'm getting a good workout at the same time.
i have a pretty good video, and i'll probably buy a few more. my goal is to do it
at least 3 nights or mornings a week.
i guess a cheap yoga mat is on my list of things to do soon too.
i'm at work, and so my mood isn't great, but really, i feel pretty good.
yoga is kind of like getting a massage, working out, and meditating,
all at the same time.
i know i've only done it this once, so we'll see if i stick with it, but i can see it
being something that becomes a regular part of my life.
and again, i know i keep using the word today, and it's very hippie sounding,
but i see that as being a very positive thing, both for my physical health,
appearance, and my state of mind.
there's another post i've been working on, that's more in my style, but it's not done.
my internet access outside work is still spotty, and i hate posting this stuff from here.
so updates will probably still be infrequent for a while, but don't give up on me.
i'm still here. still thinking. still fighting. still being the same old gloomy
matt you're all used to.
and once i'm settled back in, i'll try to update more frequently again.

until that time.

--i will never solve algebra of need
--any thought just might
--turn to flesh and drag me back to life

the holiest of sounds

2007-01-26T23:33:00.000-07:00

someday, i will read this to my son.
or your son.
or random strangers children on the street where i wander.
i am streaming,
formerly live, now pre-recorded.
god damn is it long.
but it's all honest.
except where it's not.
oh, and except where it's totally absurd.

but do i ever write anything but?

a special on meth.
a conversation on foreigners.
so many thoughts of the coast lately.
drawing me in.
locked in this trapsadness at the moment.
staying at my parents.
my back hurts and it's friday night by myself.
partly by my choice, but not really.
so meth is an unrecognized epidemic.
seen it firsthand.
and so much talk on how to fix it.
banning substances, rehab, cracking down on suppliers
but nobody ever addresses the big issue.
the sickness within our culture, our world,
individual states,
individual lives.
the sickness in the world that makes so many people so
unhappy they need an escape.
KNOW this firsthand.
live and fight it every day of my life.
what have we as a species done to make us so goddamn miserable
and what can be done to change it?
what WILL be done to rememdy?
chances are we won't get a bandaid or a consultation.
rather, we get a handful of pills and a tourniquette around the neck.
told to go home, go to work, consume, destroy,
numb the pain,combust, exhale.
turn on the television.
turn on the television.
swallow this adspace.
buy this, make your life easier
don't drink so much, eat your oatmeal, start jogging.
take these pills.
read THIS book, but not THAT book.
please.recycle.
buy twice as much, with ten times the wasteful packaging
to compensate.
be a man.
be sensitive.
invest in a 401K
invest in your future
there is no future
drop a bomb, co-opt a pipeline
vote, it doesn't matter.
don't protest.
be meek.
Jesus said that.
Jesus loves you.
unless you're a faggot.
or brown.
or simply disagree.
jesus will save you.
just put your money in this cup, plate, pocket.
by the way, wouldn't you LOVE to make more money?
i know you would.
take these pills, say the pledge.
i pledge allegience to
myspace, mtv, the atomic bomb, arabs, jews, spades
but wait. . not arabs.
bad people, they.
different.
be xenophobic, salute your flag in unison.
join the military, lose a limb.
your country loves you.
george bushs' legacy loves you.
Jesus. .well. .did you kill?
someone told me once that's a bad idea.
but we all have ideas
and mine are better than yours.
it's ok, smile.
take this pill.
don't smile anymore, you haven't used the proper whitener.
because a gleaming smile is essential to mankinds survival.
my heart races,
arm aches,
the sickness courses through me,
the nausea.
I AM the sickness.
but not down with.
listen to independent music.
as long as it's top 40 indie.
watch the movies.
celebrate the independent drive and passion.
or just wait a few weeks and go to the mall, the theater.
go to the mall, be a good consumer.
be a husband.
to a WOMAN, you idiot,
god will get mad.
I'm TELLING!
oh yeah, and by the way.
fuck Sundance.
tap the vein, tap that ass.
make legions of ugly babies.
take my tax money to feed them.
i don't want to help
.
.
.
you
.
.
donate to charity.
better if your name gets the publicity.
go insane.
hey.
try this pill.
be normal.
BE FUCKING NORMAL.
read a book about getting rich
getting thin
getting close to the end of the world now.
'it'll end in 2012, i fucking know it' dipshit says
stonedly.
wrong drug.
take this one.
but not meth.
don't take any drugs.
be happy damnit
without any provocation.
that's how we attacked them, you know.
get tattoo'd and pierced,
wear funky clothes,
stand out as an individual,
just like all these guys around you,that look and dress exactly like you.
don't stand out too much.
don't attract attention.
take a pissbreak.
but keep your body hidden.
you should be ashamed of it.
you're too fat.
too hairy.
too ugly.
too natural.
you need to change.
to fit in.
be yourself.
as long as you be like me.
love your country.
what is 'country'?
in spite of its mass murder.
oh yeah, that piss, i forgot to take it.
wait for me.
read a mens magazine while i'm gone.
so you can be
all you'll never be..
back now.
i'd sure like it if you interrupted this
stream of CsOiNcSkCIOUSness
and touched me.
rubbed my tense shoulders.
squeeze my ailing mind, my terse composition.
jerked me off.
get yourself off too, i'm far too tired to.
but it's only fair.
god i can't stand that guy.
god, can you hear me? I really can't.
hello?
tap-tap.
god, are you there
it's me, matt.
no?
didn't think so.
Allah?
oh wait.
same guy, different name.
beat your wife.
when she steps out of line.
or make babies instead, i don't care.
but only if you're famous.
welcome to America.
please check in your rights and your dignity at the front desk.
they'll be given back when you leave.
but we've lost them and, funny thing.
ha.
you're going to love this.
you can't leave.
welcome to america.
these pills should provide adequate payment.
take them.
behave.
love nature, the environment.
there's oil fucking EVERYWHERE in it.
but you've got to dig deep
within yourself
like our president.
head up your ass, good job.
you'll fit in well.
unless you keep wearing that turban.
land of the once-upon-a-time-we-thought-freedom
was a reality.
and a right.
turns out that was a farce.
so sorry.
sell your soul to the devil.
it's ok if he wears tacky ties and short-sleeve button ups,
bad haircuts nobody could enjoy,
and uses pop-bullshit corporate jargon.
it's ok.
yes, he is the devil,
and yes i said he, because we all know women are only good
for one thing.
YOUKNOWWHATI'MSAYIN!?! YEAHHH!
it's ok.
thou shalt not kill
unless a fat paycheck is involved.
this mode, my tone,
stopped having any worth pages ago
but i stick with it
because i love you.
just like jesus.
only, i hate you.
find your cultural identity.
seek it with all your heart and embrace it.
teach it english,
the international language of business.
and depleted uranium.
merry CHRISTmas.
jokes on you!
and what a grand joke it was while it lasted.
but it's over now.
not sure i ever laughed.
maybe once,
when i heard about all those dead civilians
and tortured innocents.
oops.
ha ha.
god she's skinny.
it's gross.
i'd rather be thin than famous but i'm fat.
paste that in your broadway show!
that line, written for one person, not counting me.
but i doubt she made it this far through this insanity.
or is it poetry?
it's genius!
and bullshit.
worthlessdrivel
and the most important thing in the world right now.
but.
now just passed us by.
bringing us back to worthless.
empty.
shadows on the wall.
shadow of my soul.
crossing dark,
ominous.
flash from an ancient memory.
losing steam.
think too much to keep not-thinking.
try to blot it out.
where did i leave those damn pills?
a drugged populace is a happy populace.
nonthreatening is the way to be.
this is.
.
nevermind.
distract me.
flaunt it.
'cause i sure as hell don't 'got it'
who are the tamil tigers?
who is john galt?
who fucking cares.
profanity is so cool.
god, i'm fucking edgy.
worship me.
i'm far more tangible than your other false idols.
friday night in the universe (kerouac2)
and i'm all alone.
so is the guy with the weird hair, out walking his
case of heineken.
my phone is silent
but my ears are ringing.
drinking too much coffee.
writing too many words.
maybe i should talk about happiness.
peace and harmony..
. .
ok, i'm done.
happiness is so 24 years ago.
i've moved on, grown up.
thrown up, on occasion
from a little too much of it.
nowhere to go from here.
nowhere worthwhile.
is it really 28 in another three?
oh god.
haven't made it yet...
we still have time.
throw me away.
i am disposable meat.
and a few random sparks of near-creativity.
do you see now?
open your eyes.
take..nevermind, they're overrated.
watch the television instead.
though, it's much more unhealthy.
unless you're tuned to the always correct:right:
:wing:
mine broke a while back and i never bothered to fix them.
my head still pounding from flying too close to the sun.
why hasn't she..
try not to follow that path.
wonder what she..
stray.
lights on the marquee(sp?) blink.
the girl behind the counter has phenomenal tits.
decent ass too.
am i allowed to say that these days?
cause i did.
and i meant it.
i'm a pig.
sue me.
scratch the itch.
i am a man.
'nuff said.
i live with my parents.
my car has two hundred and thirty thousand miles on it.
all i own fits into less than a fourth of their garage space.
i'm not much of a man.
oh, cute, the cool people are here.
wish i was one of them.
but i'm only a tired old man.
and i'm too ugly.
:
something happens.
nothing worthwhile.
but i think this train has officially
derailed.
sorry for littering your pristine minds
with these words.

:not that any of you will get this far:

Good goodbye lovely time.

2007-01-26T08:45:00.000-07:00

sorry about the big entries, but my internet access is sporadic.
should be better soon.

today's the day i move most of my shit to my parents.
i slept less than three hours last night, have hardly been able to sleep all week.
and this fucking smog is killing me. i'm winded even just sitting doing nothing.
when i smoke it's even worse.
it's weird because as much as i never really felt at home at that house, i'm still depressed leaving it.
i've grown attached to my little red room,
the handprint on my wall.
i think i mentioned something similar a few months ago, but it's so weird to think
that just about everything i own
can fit into one small room.
just...bizarre.

yesterday:

a day without work.
morning, feeling like i haven't even slept.
get lunch and i'm left thinking how all
the glory of the empire china has been,
has been reduced to lo-mein and semi-asian decor.
strange old white men ordering big-macs and hotdogs
in a vague double stab at humor and insult.
asserting dominion as the rightful one in this land.
a song plays. typical chinese food fare.
instrumental. heard in shops like this countrywide.
i don't remember if it's a minuet or walz.
don't remember a lot of things i should these days.
i graduated from teen-angst a long time ago now.
sold eight hours of my soul a day to the corporate machine.
so what do i call this burn within me?
[existential terror?]
why is it that the more complacent everyone around me
seems to become?
the more i want to start a fire, fuck the system,
abandon all this.
see a familiar back but it's not attached to a familiar face
and i'm glad.
i want to be revolution: the real kind, not the chevy flavor.
but sometimes i wonder how many people out there even
feel the same.
even feel.
even care.
it seems like we've all sat and watched so complacently as
our world is torn to shreds that maybe everyone
really is ok with it.
surely something could be done otherwise.
would've been done already.
has big business really defeated common sense,
justice,
a sense of moral responsibility?
it brought down the wall..
..and all of the soviet union with it.
look how well off they are now!
do we really prefer big-macs to home grown, home cooked,
healthy meals?
does anyone really buy that 7up and lays are all natural,
and by association, good for you?
is having cheap crap all in one central location really
a good tradeoff when you consider solcial, economic,
and environmental impact?
is a walmart every four blocks really preferrable to
privately owned shops?
when was the last time anyone really MADE something
from scratch.
created something with raw materials,
rather than bought something off the assembly line in some
far-away country.
tired of the quick and easy.
vampiristic business practicesee.
i don't want to be a part of it anymore.
but man, then how would i pay my cellphone bill,
high speed internet, gas for my car,
mp3's for my ipod...
i've always been so torn.
i love and despise all of this.
it's unnatural.
yet, i'm a part of it.
integrated with this society.
that's the point of 'society' isn't it?
always such a point of contention with me.
sometimes i think i could turn my death-camp into
a permanent way of life.
..or should.
other times the big city calls me.
like some ugly, confusing siren.
come in, it says.
give in.
give up.
one can only swim upstream for so long
before the relentless flow of water overcomes
and sweeps them away to oblivion.

the older i get the more i think my feeling of wanting,
maybe even deserving,
something more
was a pipe dream.
i'm no great mind or talent.
nothing special, or even that unique.
i've spent so long struggling, wanting something bigger, better,
and finding nothing.
it's unnerving
finding yourself in a crisis of faith,
when your only faith is yourself and what's in your head.
after this weekend, i find myself between houses,
suitcase living at my parents for a little while.
and while that's not really my fault, it still depresses me.
makes me feel like a failure.
just like everything else i can see right now.

last friday:
wake up too early.
feel like last nights alcohol has hung over my emotions,
rather than my physical being.
take a shower, hear the door.
landlord's showing the place with us in it again.
ponder leaving the towel as i go back up to my room.
clean up the mess in the kitchen,
break one of my new wine glasses.
my hands tremble, my lungs burn.
my heart screams.
silently, of course.
drive through a quiet city.
snow begins to fall lightly.
ink smudges. feel a few feet behind my tired eyes.
question everything today.
all the things i've felt so sacred lately.
suddenly feel hollow.
wonder: am i doing the right thing.
staying here, seeing this through.
opening myself up.
always such a violent act.
is it better to struggle,
or just put on the blinders again?
the music here is far too happy
and someone keeps laughing obnoxiously loud. he is alone.
it jars me. makes me cringe.
my peace disturbed, i fight the urge to get up and go.
because i don't want to go 'home'
i don't feel comfortable there.
and i can't think of anywhere else to go.
was talking about depression the other day. trying to explain to someone who didn't understand.
how it is.
how it's a part of me, and that i'm comfortable with that, as i've said.
but sometimes it's less comfortable to wear.
like the splinter you can't reach
that starts to get infected.
only, i can't just grab a needle and dig this feeling out.
can only push on.
drink it away when it becomes too much.
but i've not been drinking much since the surgery.
he laughs again...it's not just my mood.

--I see it around me
--I see it in everything
--I could be so much
--More than this
--I said my goodbye's
--This is my sundown

Your mask is drifting. See what writhes beneath.

2007-01-18T10:21:00.001-07:00

things on my mind:more 'sick of's':rants:

too much bullshit lately.
too much new stress.
and i'm trying to keep my head up
but it's hard to fight the urges that come with it all.

still haven't officially found a place, but have something in mind.
have only limited internet access at the moment.
sick of a lot of the things i've seen in people i've considered friends,
and maybe shouldn't.
sick of watching the smartest people i know waste away in self-imposed
mediocrity.
and of watching myself flounder, and get fucked every time i try
to make me better.

sick of war, and inaction.
sick of hearing 'politics are just too depressing, i don't even bother following
anymore'

sick of anti-smoking regulation.
come off it, if you really cared about us you'd regulate factory emissions,
nuclear waste storage, green business.
you'd emphasize agriculture over the fast-fix. push broader health information
programs. ban 90% of the chemicals in the foods we all eat on a daily basis.
you'd put money into a healthy america, instead of just retaliating now that
the amount tobacco companies flow to politicians suddenly doesn't outweigh
the price of lawsuits and subsidized health-care.

on that note, if they really cared about your health, don't you think we'd have
a national socialized health care program?
or at least something better than the BS we have now,
where an ER visit will break a poor family,
where people my age and social status second guess going to the doctor or dentist
because of the prohibitive costs we know we will incur.

If they really gave a fuck, we would have had minimally polluting vehicles 30 years ago,
rather than just getting started now.

i'm fully aware smoking poses serious health risks, and yes i'm back to it.
but i don't think it's the governments place to ban it.
I think if people want smoke-free bars and clubs, and public spaces,
they'll make that decision privately.
and ticketing people driving in cars, or walking down the street smoking
in a city where i second guess myself every time i want to ride my bike, or take
a long walk, because the air quality is so horrible is just asinine.
fix the air,
then fix the minor issues.

sick of a comedy station being one of the better sources for news, and being
one of the few voices to stand out in opposition.

something on my mind right now:
it's hard to explain this, but i really try to keep directly personal issues
that relate to people in my life out of this blog.
which isn't to say this blog isn't personal, or doesn't touch any of that stuff,
but i try to be somewhat abstract.
this blog is where i pick at my existential scabs (yes, it's a john krakauer reference),
not my white board of personal gripes against people i know.
lately though, i'm finding this to be one of my few outlet for particular gripes.
and so, i'm going to do it again.

I found out yesterday that my ex had posted something in her journal relating to me,
and that someone sent her a really nasty email to her semi-private address,
presumably in defense of, or because of feelings towards me.

here's the thing about that.
well, a few actually.
When we split i was devastated. i hurt, i felt lost, and i shut myself off quite a bit.
i hated, and was angry at her.
honestly never wanted or thought we'd speak to each other.
and probably wouldn't have.
However, things in her life, health and personal have taken some pretty bad turns
the past few months. there's been a lot of stress, pain, trouble, and worries
for her.
in light of this, i set aside those feelings, my reservations, and have been trying
best as i can to provide what little moral support i can; trying to be a friend
in whatever limited aspect i can be.
i still get upset sometimes, and sometimes i can't say the right thing because of
past hurt,
but for the most part i've moved beyond all that.

There are very few people in my life who know me well enough to know all of what
happened between us. even some of my closest friends never really understood the
whole of the situation.
and so for someone to think that they could or should do something like that,
again, ostensibly in support of me somehow,
should have thought better.
should have fucking known better.
Aside from the words i posted here, and the things shared in confidence and in private,
i've never invited anyone to be a part of this situation.
Whoever wrote it must think they were invited, or do know me that well,
but anyone who knows me well enough to do something like that for or about me
should know well enough that i wouldn't condone it.
i'm not into drama, i'm not into unnecessary conflict. i can hurt feelings pretty
well if i have to, but i'm past the point in my life where i'll do it just on a
whim.
so why is it that anytime anyone does this kind of thing, they do it anonymously?
have some balls. put a name to your words. save us both some face.

to whoever did this:
i'm assuming you're probably someone who reads this blog at least occasionaly,
which is why i'm even bothering saying anything.
I don't support what you did, i don't agree with it, and i'm honestly pretty damn
upset at it.
as a friend, or someone close, or remote, basically if you're a part of my life in
any way, you have overstepped your bounds.
it's one thing to attack me, but to attack people in my life, whether you think i
hate them or not (because you obviously didn't know), is to show just how far removed
from me you really are.

So i want an apology.
not to me, because in all honesty you're probably some remote, or minor part of my
life anyway,
but to her.
what you did was unfair, and uncalled for.
really fucking immature.
If you care about me enough to feel like that was a good idea,
then care enough to respect that you did the wrong thing and own up to it.
i'm not even saying you have to include a name.
just the right words.

more.

yesterday when i woke up i felt ..off.
could be the tiny bit of sleep i've gotten this week in comparison to all the running
around i've been doing (not to mention the ass whoopings i've been handing out at
chess..yeah that's right, richard. bring it.)
i felt really awful driving to work, really didn't want to.
i've been more apathetic about it than usual.
so i get in, and the first email i read uses the phrase 'action items'.
fight club, anyone? anyone?
and i realized, more than ever that i really need out of my damn job.
from thankless work, to the raise i was supposed to get, but never did,
to new policies that are basically taking the enjoyment out of the only part
of my job i actually did enjoy.
i'm looking into some part time work kicking drunk people out of the bar i frequent.
and it reminded me how bad i've always wanted to be a bartender.
so this week or next i'm going to hit all the divey bars in my town and tell them
how badly they need my services.
i really think i'd be happy doing that, at least while i get back into school.
the prospect of getting out of here and working in my hometown is exciting
(and a bit scary..as are most of the recent changes in my life).
in the past 10 years, i've worked 8 at least 40 minutes away from home, and spent
about the same amount of time dating girls who lived that far or more away.
so i'm trying to centralize. i figure just doing that will save me $200 in gas
a month, if not more.
which also means i can finally start looking at getting a truck like i've wanted for
years now.

last, for now:
I've decided that this year i will finally actually do my death-camping experience.
i thought about it a few years back, really set my sights on doing it last year,
but i had neither the energy, nor the fitness level for it.
I've been working out a bit harder, and more regularly again since my surgery, but
i'm going to step it up now, and add some more cardio. i will be ready soon.
my death camp idea is this.
i'm going to drive somewhere really remote.
i will park my car and hike in as far as i can for two days, maybe more depending
on location.
With me, i will have the clothes on my back, a firesteel, a knife, a topo map,
and a compass.
I'm debating a big bag of rice, but i'm thinking i'd rather leave it behind.
i'm also debating weaning myself on meat a little bit in the months leading up to it.
once in, i will stay as long as i can, a week or two (vacation time is limited)
and live, best i can, off the land.
I need to know i can do this.
i've always thought i could, and i know it is just a short time,
but it's something my mind has resolved that it needs to know.
so..when i go, wish me luck. i probably won't be telling anyone where i'm headed
aside from a general idea and timeframe.

oh, and i finally saw little miss sunshine last night.
great movie.
a bit absurd at times, pushing my disbelief a bit further than i could handle,
but i really identified with some of the things that were said.

that is ..all?

--The depth of the chasm is infinite
--Discover bliss and serenity in drowning

Afterbirth of a nation

2007-01-12T16:19:00.000-07:00

this world's going to hell faster and faster
and these days i watch with sober eyes.
twenty-thousand more troops committed to the middle east,
threats of war (as if we didn't see it coming) in two new countries.
read this, it's amazing
and who has the authority: the power: the drive:
to say "no more"?
the execution of saddam: a travesty.
our president: a fool. a wolf in lambs clothing.
3,000 dead americans: unforgiveable.
and all this, looming war, living under its shadow,
a forgotten but continuing one in Afghanistan,
20K+ injured americans,
god knows how many dead and injured, displaced, disgruntled non-..
are we safer from terror now,
or more at risk?
have we bred two new generations of newer, more committed enemies?
..why is it always 'al queda' that we find and fight?
are they the catch-all word,
or did we take them from a small group of cells
to a global network of killers?

is the world a better place because of any of americas actions
since Bush jr. has been in office?

i honestly don't think so.
and yet, who will truly pay for the injustices?
the innocent in other countries, the innocent here,
the poor, the weak.
as in the article i linked above..how many Bush's are out there
risking their lives to fight the 'war on terror'
and protect the freedoms we value so much as americans,
that we've let be taken from us piece by piece in the name of our
protection?
How many Cheneys do more than profiteer on human blood.
How many of the rich, the cabinet who supported this 'war',
the initial and continued supporters,
how many have lost sons or daughters, or now have to support
a crippled human being?

when will our administration come clean and admit that this isn't really
about our protection, or theirs.
that it's just about oil, vengeance, and our god vs. theirs.

when will my battered country wake up and take the reigns from those
who have stolen them, and used them evilly for far too long now?
make them answer for their crimes...

where are the heroes?
the real ones..not the ones who revel in stupidity.
not the paris hiltons of the world, or the kevin federlines,
not even the president of the united states.
where are the zapatas, jeffersons, guevaras, vonneguts.
thinkers, revolutionaries, movers.
what have we allowed ourselves to become?

so. personal news.
hm.
my aunts body is trying to shut down. they said she wouldn't last the week,
but so far she's progressing well.
we keep realizing how badly we've been fucked by our ex-roommate.
every day seems like we find something new that makes things suck that much worse.
and the funny thing is he seems to think after all this he's still going to
be able to be some remote part of our band, and step back in, if we ever
achieve the glory we'd like to.
fuck that.
fuck him.
It seems to be the constant rule in my life that, whenever i try to better myself,
i get thrown on the coals.
so i've overcome the surgery, and should be looking into financing school,
and all that jazz,
and instead now, i have to worry about new deposits, utilities in my name,
a new house, a washer and dryer, internet installation, time off to move and househunt.
and find a new bassist in the process, since we did just finish an album,
and would like to start playing shows to promote it/pay for it.
the heat gets shut off at our place tomorrow, and the electricity would have today
if i hadn't switched it over to my name.
i'm not willing to put down a deposit and pay a months gas just so i can do the same
in two or three weeks when we move.
so..i guess i start showering at my parents, and using the space heater during the day.
for the record, Paul, if you're reading this...Fuck you. if you're ever back in utah,
stay far, far away from me.
a real friend/bandmate would have at least made sure everything was kosher at home
before just taking off.
i'm stressed and i'm back to smoking, and it sucks..but what can you do.

on the upside,
seen some great movies lately. apocalypto, perfume, idiocracy, and crank (again).
all highly recommended by me.
and i'm looking forward to march...tons of good concerts and movies coming that month.
p.o.s., isis, snow patrol(don't laugh), sleepytime gorilla museum, p-funk,
the 300, TNMT, and more.
it'll be rockin.

oh, and i got my sleeve started. it's all just outline right now, and the part on
the bottom of my arm closest to my wrist isn't done, but so far i really,
REALLY like the way it's looking. the lion ended up extending onto my chest, and
across my back. i think once it's shaded and colored it's going to be amazing.
pics..i dunno. probably not at the outlining stage, but once the shading's done for sure.
but..with the house issues, who knows when that may be.

--Hate, hate your enemies
--Save, save your friends
--Find, find your place
--Speak, speak the truth

2007-01-08T11:39:00.000-07:00

So last week, my bassist/roommate/..hm. decided to take off for california.
initially the plan was to go out for a few days and come back for a few weeks. this gave us the impression he'd be here this month, and at least paying next months rent.
not so.
he took off sunday, pretty out of the blue, leaving behind the band, his girlfriend, and two roommates in a pretty shitty spot.
i've been pretty mad, and the more i think about it the madder i get.
not only did he fuck us, but he took his showerhead, left the garbage bin overflowing, so we have piles of bags waiting to go out that can't, took a bunch of stuff he shouldn't have, etc.
even took the mostly empty can of febreeze out of the bathroom.
seriously..what the fuck?

So...we're in a bit of a situation. We've got this place we can't pay for with just the two of us. Scott's got a dog, and i want one, which makes finding a new place a bit tough.
We either need a roommate, or someone to rent us a place. If you know anyone who might be interested in either, please get in touch with me.

it's that or we kill scotts dog, and move back in with our parents.
if that happens...i blame you.

If you're interested, here's the craigslist ad i just posted.
read!

2007-01-08T00:40:00.000-07:00

why do i always get pens in stupid colors?
shouldn't matter, but does somehow.
why do i feel like this again lately?
oh yeah. now i remember.
douchebags everywhere tonight.
saw, or was made part of several near-accidents on the way here.
all for stupid reasons.
can anyone else smell fresh ballpoint?
i've always liked it but just now realized it.
watch a guy (see above: D) try to hit on the girls that work here
see it almost work somehow.
blows my mind.
people blow my mind: the things we/they do.
don't understand more often than not.
tired of selfish. tired of inconsistent. tired of pale-
coughing, junkies.
tired of vampires, and of whores.
tired of people thinking they're far more attractive
than they really are.
i remember when there were pretty people
and ugly ones.
and all in between.
and we didn't mingle.
didn't try to pretend.
tired of instability.
glad the holidays are over.
my new years resolution last year: to not make them.
this year i will...
who knows.
hopefully not fail.
will the world wise up this time? or will it get worse.
is money really worth ANY of the problems it causes?
someone should give me some so i can find out.
::
crashing.
trying to shut out the night.
and the world.
trying to do it sober, not sure i can make it.
but it is the weekend afterall.
so who knows.
failed at not smoking, time to roll another
and kill some time
before i go.
today i feel like i lost something.
but i don't know what it is.

you should have shot yourself in the foot while it was in your mouth.

2006-12-28T14:36:00.000-07:00

an old man shuffles down the street.
trying to make the bus.
awful, nonthreatening music plays.
i realize i've been staring out the window too long.
work has disappeared momentarily.
friends blink and are ignored.
a friend cooks me an amazing dinner. another blows me off.
another does a favor, as only a good friend can.
we talk, we listen, we touch, i leave.
a single frozen moment, muscles clenched in shock,
slip of the tongue, it came out and fear entered the room.
this room, the one i'm in now, is filled with canadian tuxedos, laptops, and obese girls
trying to be fashionable.
peace is dead, just like god was and all men become.
drink more bad coffee.
crave a smoke but i'm still fighting it.
trying to make impermanent static.
trying to make that change.
working on shaking a cold day, to create something out of a vague idea.
these days it's all beginnings and ends
thrown into the same jumbled pile.
it's missing compadres. irresponsible desires. change of scenery, change my mind.
it's trying to see through the haze of sobriety, rather than the clarity of self-destruction.
finishing things that should've been done years ago.
waking up after a long sleep, and staying up all night wishing i could drop off.
and none of it means any more than it did before, nor will it ever.
but to me it does, and for now that's all that matters.
'no', i say. i can't do it.
and there is sadness, but it's manageable.
or at least i tell myself it is.
i apologize, best i can.
never intended it to be this way.
but 'this way' seems to be the only way i can be right now.

everything is painted with my blood.

2006-12-19T12:50:00.000-07:00

mm mm good.
lay down to take a nap yesterday, though i'd been feeling better than any day previous. woke up with that dirty penny taste in my mouth and rushed to the bathroom.
this picture really doesn't do justice, because at some points the sink was literally filling up with blood. i wish i would've had the presence of mind to get a pic of me too. i looked pretty metal with blood pouring down my beard, and dripping off my teeth.
sadly, at the time i was preoccupied with the thought of bleeding to death through my mouth.

so how are you matt? oh fine, i guess.
i try not to complain too much when people ask, but there's not really a lot to sugarcoat either.
i'm down 18lbs now. been to the ER once now, because of the bloodflow. i still can't eat anything more solid than the occasional bit of jello or softboiled egg. It hurts to talk, and i have to put a lot of thought into not sounding like i'm retarded. i've left the house a few times, but usually have to take a nap immediately afterwards. i'm not really sleeping at night because of the pills (that i'm almost out of..).
Am i better at all? Yeah, each day things seem a tiny bit better. yesterday was supposed to be about the pinnacle of the pain and all that garbage, and the rest of this week is supposed to be pure recovery. we'll see, i guess.
All in all, i haven't smoked since sunday before last. The little sleep i'm getting is seeming to affect me the way it should. i'm a little less fat. At the ER last night, even after losing all the blood i did, when they took more and tested it they told me my blood count was awesome. far above average. i've got cabin fever and i'm tired, but i'm starting to feel driven. like a sprinter at the line, waiting for the gunshot even though the guy's fallen asleep. i've put so much on hold for this crap, and even though the recovery seems to be taking forever, it's progressing on a pretty average scale. once i'm better, and insurance is paid, i can move forward with my life again.
I may have said similar recently, but moving forward is something i'm really excited for, and that's a pretty strange feeling, for me.

2006-12-14T23:55:00.000-07:00

as of this morning, i'd lost 12 lbs since monday.
The most i've been able to force down was a softboiled egg. other than that, it's been popsicles, a little jello, and a very little bit of baby food. mmm.banana.
i figure by the time i can eat again i will have lost more. now i just need to figure out a way to keep it off.
everything still hurts really bad, but i think it may be letting up slightly today, as compared to yesterday.
the pills really don't do much, and my mom has even pushed me to call in for a stronger prescription, but i'm not sure i want to take that route. especially if things are going to be getting better now.
For as little as they're doing for me, they still make me itchy as hell. and, even though the effect isn't huge, the fact that i've been on this schedule with them since mon, including waking up nights to keep the dose up, rather than lose the continuous effect (this was a multiple dr. recommendation), is making everything seem slightly surreal.
I'm tired, the pain has been constant, i'm restless, and there's this buzzy feeling, and i'm starting to feel like this all may yet be just a dream.
i was able to sleep on my back twice yesterday, which is something i haven't been able to do in years now.
my parents have commented that they haven't heard me snore at all, even though my door's been open most of the time when i'm sleeping.
and, tired and knocked out as i've been, when i lay down for a short nap, i do feel quite a bit more invigorated than i normally may have.
wishful thinking?
i sure hope not.
because, if this all works out, it should be pretty awesome.

for now...it's mostly just pain.

there will probably be more tomorrow, from your soon to be emo-pants wearing narrator.

ow

2006-12-12T23:12:00.000-07:00

so today pretty much sucks.

sore. swollen. tired.

you'd think coming out of surgery would be the worst time, not two days later.

guess we'll see how tomorrow goes.

i've had this as the wallpaper on my cellphone for quite a while now, but this week it takes on extra significance to me.
everything hurts, so i'm going to try to get some sleep.

i'm alive. i'm dead. i'm the stranger.

2006-12-12T00:27:00.000-07:00

well, i survived the surgery.
and when i woke up i was feeling surprisingly good. more alert and well than after my wisdom teeth.
for the most part i feel ok. the pills don't do a whole lot for me, so my throat destroys me when i try to swallow or move too much, but the worst part is the stitches. god are they uncomfortable.
i seriously can't wait for them to dissolve.
and so begins my indefinite period of not being able to eat solid foods, not smoking, and hoping my already too-high tolerance to painkillers doesn't build up as fast as my body usually seems to.
again, i'm overwhelmed by the support i've gotten. it's amazing. you are all amazing.
though, there was a particular call i was hoping to get today that never came.
hm. oh well, huh.
other than that i've gotten tons of calls, and text messages, and general people checking in.
it really means a lot.
so, so far so good.
maybe not good, but definitely not as horrible as i was braced for, for a first day.
i even managed to get my tongue ring back in...i was really bummed out when they said i had to take it out, because last two times i've taken it out, even for 5 minutes, i had to get it redone...and i can't do that anymore.
tomorrow the swelling's really supposed to set in, and i imagine i'll be in more pain than this, but for now, i'm running with the thought that i'm doing exceptionally well, and will continue to do so.
i watched lucky number slevin today, and fuck was it awesome. clever, well shot, funny, and brutal as shit. and some gratuitous nudity too. what more could a guy ask for?
i also watched silent hill. not bad, but not nearly as good as everyone told me it was. most of it just seemed so pointless. like 'oh, let's have her run here so then we can throw this effect in'.
you never really get in to the plot or the characters.
but it had its moments.
tomorrow i've got disctrict 13, and munich on my plate.
and sometime this week, i will watch the extended LOTR trilogy again.
because...well...because i can, damnit.
my internet connection here's a bit spotty, but i'll be on here and there to say hi to people, and will try to check my email a few times a day.

oh yeah! i know it's too early to say for certain, but my voice does feel ok. when i'm healed i hope it's not changed, but from what i can tell from my raspy, stitches in the back of my throat, tone, i'm doing alright.

so thanks again everyone. i look forward to seeing you all again, when i can.

i need your grace to remind me to find my own.

2006-12-10T23:39:00.000-07:00

There are so many great people in my life.
i know sometimes i take them for granted.
but with all the support i've gotten so far, i really just
need to remember to say thanks as much as i possibly can,
when i can speak again.

here i am, about to turn in. tomorrow's it.
seems like this has been a distant thing for so long that now it's here
it feels far too real.
but it will be what it is, and there's nothing i can do to change that.
now if only that thought were comforting in some way...
i will update as soon as i'm able.
thanks everyone. everything means a ton.

written earlier:
last day. bleh.
it rains and it's eerily warm.
my throat feels scratchy.
want to get drunk, but i won't.
tonight will be my last solid food for god knows how long.
today just feels bad. i'm tired and nervous
and i feel lonelier than i have in a long time.
..but i don't really want to be around anyone.
drink my coffee lukewarm.
lose myself
.in the blink of an eye.
craving sushi but i'm broke.
craving...
warmth.comfort.
I feel like such a sissy.
shouldn't be this nervous.
it'd be a good day for a long drive,
if i had enough gas.
but i don't.
--i just don't know.how to say. how i feel. those three words.
seems like there's nothing to say today.
just quiet. hollow. melancholy.
get another coffee.
stare outside, snowing in the mountains.
wonder how many more punk bands can cover 99 red balloons
before people start feeling duped.
wasn't any good to begin with.
get a hug from a friend, smile for a second.
think about leaving but no destination.
think about smoking.
going to try to quit after today.
won't have much choice for a few weeks anyway.

--If I lay here
--If I just lay here
--Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

breaking down the doors of old gods.

2006-12-09T01:56:00.000-07:00

today is dark, ominous.
our talk turns to human sacrifice,
virgin blood.
but who can find that anymore?
roll a smoke in this poison air.
force it down.
reflect on the ending year.
another strange concept that means so nothing.
and yet we put so much stock in these traditions.
times are sacred to people,
and i have mine too.
in these days things have changed.
i've lost love and found other things.
i call a new house 'home'
i'm still working on my body, but i'm getting more and more ok with it.
i sing in a metal band and i love it.
a girl walks in, my brain stops.
maybe too young? who can tell anymore. definitely too snobby.
but she looks good and that's all i need from her anyway.
i have a beard and i wear boots,
roll my own smokes.
my unsubtle, unconscious reaction to the metro:emo:homo:waifs?
speaking of, the music here is fucking awful. big surprise.
i've cleaned up. dropped most of my harmful addictions,
cut back on the lesser ones,
learned to be me without the crutches.
and yes, my scars may be more naked now,
my face more drawn,
and i may struggle harder with my pet tormentors
and even fail more.
but i like to think i've moved away from that me.
hesitate to say that, for fear of word-eating.
and this on the verge of surgery,
and painkillers i'm not sure will even touch the pain anymore,
or will touch it too well.
not sure which thought is the more terrifying.
i've worked so hard to get here,
even though here is basically nowhere.
i've struggled every day of my fucking life for this
and i'm developing a better relationship with these demons.
i know they're mine for life, i don't mind that.
i will never move a mountain, or walk on water,
or end global suffering.
but i will be what and who i am,
and i will struggle, tooth and nail, every day.
and in the end..
nothing.
nothing.
nothing but what i made of it.
could i say everything was wonderful and nothing hurt?
hardly.
but it IS.
and was.
and there's nothing else to be done about it.
a white christmas tree shines in the corner.
plastic.
a tacky symbol of a season i can't stand.
this timid charade of more real times,
pagan rituals,
pure celebration.
but fuck 'modern pagans'
more charade.
pretense.
so what does one become 'now'?
is there anything true, anything pure?
or was all that as empty then as this is now?
we do have a tendency to romanticise things.
it's easy to do when genocide, war, and the decline of civilizations
can be thrown into a single, neat, mass of words, written from one perspective.
..
lose focus.
thoughts scramble.
.
a friend arrives just in time.

Broken glass aside, my feelings stay the same.

2006-12-07T23:55:00.000-07:00

sit down to write and find a pamphlet.
scientology.
buncha freaks.
even crackpots consider them crackpots.
so of course i read it.
apparently they are the only solution to the toxins
that plague my body.
i always thought it'd be funny to go through their
tests.
but they're creepy and i really don't want anything to do with them.
not even for a joke.

so. the surgery.
basically my tonsils suck and my uvula is too big.
i went in to get the tonsils out, and maybe a trim.
mentioned i was hoping the removal would help
with my apnea, because i've been told quite a few times
that i stop breathing in my sleep.
the butcher says ok and recommends a sleep study
($2000 anyone?)
to confirm what i already told him.
so now the procedure changes.
now it's a UP3,
which is basically short for 'we're going to rip the shit out of you'.
tonsils, uvula, and part of the soft pallate have to come out.
i've been assured this will not affect my singing voice,
but compications can happen with any kind of surgery.
did some research online and it turns out i've opted for
one of, if not the most painful operations to have.
recovery ranges from a hellish two weeks to a hellish
god-knows-how-many-months.
and dying isn't unheard of, as i read it phrased.
so did i really want to go through with this?
well, here's the thing:
i've always had big nasty tonsils, and they're sore most of the time, ill or not.
with this new band they're taking extra abuse and getting intolerable.
and..
a few years ago i got sick and my uvula swelled so bad i
had to get a steroid shot to breathe/swallow.
ever since then it's been bigger than it was before.
sometimes it makes me gag out of the blue, moreso while i'm smoking.
again, with the new band, it's worse. and it's embarassing as hell being on stage
and trying not to throw up.
i've been thinking of getting it cut for years.
and now, the biggest part, which initially wasn't part of why i went in:
i've always felt tired, short of energy, etc.
i've been to the dr. multiple times only to be told i was healthy,
or that exercising would help (it doesn't).
i had just kind of resigned myself to this, and i try to get by how i can.
i'd been told i stop breathing in my sleep, and i've never slept well anyway.
never really made a connection, but now i wonder if
maybe this explains part of my seeming chronic malaise.
so i don't really see a good reason to not do this..
aside from the pain. and the delays in my life. and the potential to lose, well...things.
i worry about the risk.
i don't know what i'd do if i couldn't sing.
and i'm scared shitless of going under the knife.
but if nothing else happens, and my throat is more comfortable after,
i can justify this.
and if i have more energy/endurance/awakeness,
so much the better.
i'm just hoping for no complications,
and a shorter recovery than some i've read/heard about.

wish me luck, i may not get around to updating this before i go in on monday.
i'm staying at my parents the first week, and will have my laptop, though i don't know
how long it'll be before i'm up for writing anything.
so if i'm gone again for a while, don't worry.
and again, if you were thinking about dropping by like so many great, great friends have offered, please at least call first so i can tell you whether i'm up for company.
because i have a feeling i'm not really going to want to see anyone for at least a few days.
..or not going to want them to see me, i guess.

and if things go wrong, well...
see you in hell.

(if i believed in it)

--Is there a place I can go
--Is there a light to get me there
--If I've forgotten what to say
--It's because all words are dust
--If this is really what you think
--How come you won't look me in the eye
--All this crying in your sleep
--As I lie awake beside

this is my way

2006-12-07T08:38:00.000-07:00

bad reggae plays. i can see my breath.
this is incongruity.
winter. here now, what a tragedy.
surgery monday.
have to be honest, i'm pretty freaked out.
closest i've been to surgery is getting my wisdom teeth pulled
and i felt like i'd been hit by a train for days after.
so here i go. told the band it'd be ok if i died.
because our cd's done. i could be a legend, and they can get
filthy rich.
and yes: i'm worried. and i joke, and try to shrug it off.
but i still am.
people keep getting mad when i tell them i probably won't want company.
call it ego,
but i think it's mostly because i don't like the idea of being seen as
weak(er?).
if i was dying a slow death, i'd probably ostracise everyone i know.
just to avoid that discomfort.
'he's kind of like, old. like 28 or 29'
jesus that's depressing to overhear, being 27.
someone starts playing the flute...in a coffee shop.
i hate people sometimes.

so.. our CD.
all the recording is done, and our primary mix is done as well.
on friday we're making final adjustments and mastering: done.
i keep listening to my copy and i have to say it seriously rocks.
i can't think of anything i've done that i've been as proud of.
and it's mean. listening to it, there's a stark, brutal feel.
makes you want to break stuff.
i think it's amazing, and i hope we can take it places.
.or it us.
we haven't planned any of the art or production yet,
but it shouldn't be long.
i sit, listening to asinine conversations, waiting for a friend.
i watch everyone grow up.
think how glad i'll be to be done with the studio.
because, as fun as it is, and as cool to say we're in, it's been grueling.
even though it's only been three weeks, it feels like a fucking eternity.
so now what?
pretty much all the plans...
pretty much all my life, is on hold because of this surgery.
i can't find a new job until insurance is paid off.
i can't go to school without a new job.
and i can't do a damn thing with the band or the cd
until i've recovered.
and god knows how long that could take.
so.
the surgery...

well.i'm out of time for right now. more tonight.

used to be so easy. i never even tried.

2006-11-28T00:10:00.001-07:00

running on no sleep.
i try to turn in early but my mind races.
coffee before bed for a former insomniac is a bad idea.
i had the last two weeks off and realized just how bad for me my job is.
but i'm stuck there til after sugery (dec 11) and insurance payments, etc.
thought i had something to say here, but of course now that i'm up my mind settles.
and wants to sleep.
but bed feels so empty.

my band's been in the studio all last week/weekend, will be most of this week too.
our cd's coming together really well. i'm excited to finally have something to play for people.
it's been brutal, and tedious, and a lot of fun.
we're recording with the same guy who recorded sigma6's first cd..all those years ago.
my throat feels like hell.

not sure what happened with the site, but it's back now. sorry.

it seems like the new theme of my life is uncertainty.
everything's so up in the air.
so fluid.
one minute it seems everything is falling into place,
and the next i feel like i'm being flung around like a rag doll.
my beard continues to thicken.
the tattoo i was planning on having by now seems to be put off indefinitely.
my room is fucking cold.
i got ahold of all the cure albums again, which certainly doesn't help to foster a good mood.
it's funny though, how much better i've felt this past two weeks,
than i have since...well, probably the last time i had that much time away from work.
i was a bit disappointed i couldn't afford a trip to see my much-missed friend in seattle.
but it was nice to be away from the burden.
i got a lot of working out done. beat gears of war. spent time in the studio, and worked a bit on my graphic novel.
and still had enough time to feel like i could waste some.
so what now:
finish the cd this week or next. get my throat ripped out by the butchers we pay a lot to call themselves professionals,
use my downtime to work on the story, and some mellow music for the side project that's starting to form tiny appendages.
pretend the holidays don't exist.
(yes, i know the death list still needs to be posted)
get insurance to pay what they will. find a new job here in town. enroll in school a semester late, and a few semesters set back.
and in the mean time try to save enough cash on the side to get that sleeve done, and buy a beautiful springfield 1911 .45 i've got my eye on.

i'll try to update a few times this week to make up for lost time.
there really is stuff other than this cold list on my mind, that i need to get out.
tonight just doesn't feel like the right time for it.

--should i call to you. should i reach out. it feels like chasing shadows in the night.

yeee haw.

2006-11-10T08:24:00.000-07:00

i fight the same old battle.
though lately the dynamics seem to have changed, as they do from time to time.
my foe has become subtle again.
its presence seems diminshed more often than i'm used to.
and yet, this only serves to make its attack all the more crippling when it does strike.
the pile of matches grows.
i haven't slept much this week at all.
went into work early today so i could leave early...thursday...shooting with my dad.
leave early as planned and hit the freeway full bore, taking advantage of the light midday traffic.
halfway home, i get a text message:
shooting cancelled, grandma probably had a heart attack.:
what an age we live in.
dear sir or madame, we regret to inform you that ...
well, you get it.
so i turn around to go see my poor, dear, beautiful, sick, old grandmother.
think all the while about how i've been such a worthless grandson.
how for the past years now i've rarely seen her.
because well...
...because it frightens me to see the machine breaking down.
because i am weak, or selfish, cowardly...
i think she's 98 now.
and she smiles at recognizing my voice; because she doesn't see well these days.
dentures out. hollow face.
i try to talk, make conversation, keep a light tone.
mostly she doesn't hear me. i repeat myself, but can't help but notice less lightness each time.
i sit, being there,
loving her in my own inept way.
and then i leave, and make that late journey home, hit traffic this time.
i've never been much of a family man.
on my dads side, i've disowned all but a few.
and i don't feel the loss at thinking of it. blood is blood and merely that sometimes.
fluid that bears oxygen and chemicals.
and spills out when needed.
my crimson walls stare blankly back at me.
i get along better with my immediate family than i ever have.
but i still feel slightly removed somehow.
and i love most of the extended family i still own,
but i have a hard time feeling the connection. finding the urge to ...
hm.
to get to know them on more than a superficial level, maybe?
girls i've dated have always had a hard time with my lack of wanting to spend time with their families.
i love.
and i love fiercely.
but my way isn't necessarily the way one should do it.
and it's by no means the way to make the ones you do, aware of it.
i try to be the best person i can.
but that doesn't mean i ever succeed.

self promotional update

2006-10-26T23:00:00.000-06:00

i made some small changes to my website.
nothing to bother over, really.
added a new photoset...it looks fine on my end, but i'm using a new gallery
so please email me with any issues.
i have a photoshoot scheduled for the upcoming weeks.
Til She Bleeds should be getting in the studio in november. hopefully we can crank out a short album before i get my surgery and we take a break.
then we'll begin the writing process for new stuff. i think we've grown as a band, even in the relatively short time i've been in, so keep your eyes peeled.
i still have a few paintings to add to my gallery, but i've been lazy. so...someday, maybe.

this weekend, the xmas death toll will be posted. feel free to submit any additions you'd like.
seems like the holidays are striking early this year.

that is all.

you like the way the water tastes (like gods fire). You knew, but it was never safe.

2006-10-26T00:50:00.000-06:00

I stand,
dare the oncoming snow to do its thing.
no threats, no words,
just cold defiance.
no power to stop it.
no power to make the world a better place.
sometimes people make me wonder why i'd want to do that anyway.
an american flag whips in the gusts and the rain.
such a tired symbol to use, but it's there.
think on what it means.
the snow begins.
think on what it means.
we the people, who are downtrodden under the weight of modern technology,
who weigh such vague mechanics,
who have shrugged in unison as our environment collapses around us,
who set forth from the womb, both in figure and literal,
to hope we can make something of what we're allotted,
and to ascertain just why it is we winked into this...existence.
hope and pray
(and scream)
for something more.
I bare my teeth at this, the perversion of a farfetched dream,
and at those who would engineer its end,
just to make a few unnecessary dollars.
my coffee slowly dwindles,
Dylan noses his words from above,
and i write
and seethe.
How fucking typical is that?
but it is reality.
i scream and i cry, my muscles tense,
ready to pounce,
and destroy.
clouds descend on this city.
i read about the forge,
i wondered, if i had to say, what mine was.
and i realize that the forge is every moment of my life.
every event, every smell,
every hamhanded attempt at civility.
I am strong but i am oh-so-fragile.
i am spark and voice, and if that is all, then i can try to ignite a roaring conflagration.
What is effort without result?
existence without sacrifice?
what is fire and brimstone without an audience to experience it?
what is pain in a constantly expanding universe?
what can be done?
suddenly the word 'nothing' is the funniest,
and most terrifying,
word in my vocabulary.
we, as humans, seem to lock on to a set of ideals
and run with them, no matter how absurd they may be.
sun comes out, goes away, night prepares to fall.
a pretty girl walks by...
..a ridiculous guy comes in, makes his presence known, becomes unavoidable.
debate smoking to avoid this annoyance, his distraction.
cough, fuck.
we run with these ideals..
no way to say for sure mine are better or worse than yours.
but sometimes it seems pretty fucking obvious
that this is all wrong.
I am falling(catch me):hope disintegrates.
see the street cameras.
see them see me.
see me try to act as though my privacy isn't invaed at every turn.
or as though that word even exists in modern society.
everything is so bizarre sometimes,
surreal and confusing.
another curve catches me from the corner of my vision.
what about that shape is so appealing?
why can't they all be mine?
without the politics
and the politics,
and the promises.
..the heartbreak.
this risk i've always so foolishly taken.
what on this earth is more perfect,
and more likely to send you down in flames,
than that soft geometry; the presence that destroys all other attempt at thought.
i smoke and it hurts.
i scream and it's agony.
i have thoughts and expectations,
and i am disappointed.
in degrees i let you see me.
in disease we find our feeling.
this is our nowhere, untouched by 'god's dead hand,
eyes pour out in the dark-light.
in-to
me.
been shattered and put back together so many times
now i'm not sure i'll ever find that place again.
different ways, other daysw.
so much has happened that can't be seen.
so much in the past we'll never know.
i build a face, a person, a construct,
and so many times you've got me wrong.
maybe i've done the same.
how do words go from beautiful to tragic
in an instant?
how does one talk of god in mans' words?
what makes so many believe the rumor?
seems sometimes like life is nothing but a big
question mark.
what has become of human grace?

--lie to me. sing me a song.
--sing me a song, until the mornin' comes.

yawn.

2006-10-18T22:44:00.000-06:00

so what the fuck?
how does ISIS put out an album and i don't notice?
getting senile in my old age or something.
anyway..music news.
my trusty gnomes found the upcoming deftones album, and goddamn is it good.
it needs to grow on me a little more, but i have a feeling it may even surpass white pony
(depends on the emotions i attach to it..the white pony days were strange and powerful ones in my past).
isis+aereogramme fishtank album came out, and it's really damn good too.
finally found a copy of the new cult of luna album, but i haven't listened to it yet.
i just played the new red sparowes album for the first time and..wow. tops the last one by quite a bit, if that can be believed.
a few weeks ago I found a band called 'this will destroy you' and they haven't really left my playlists since. it's really beautiful
melodic/instrumental post rock stuff, with some heavier elements thrown in.
new mastodon. jeeeesus. some of the sections of songs on this make my head want to pop.
new isis: what can i say. these guys consistently make the most amazing music on the planet.
i'm still pissed i missed them at the tool show.
i haven't listened to all of this yet, but what i've heard...amazing.

yeah, i know i said i'd stay quiet.
but they say you can't keep a good man down.
...guess that doesn't really apply to me anyway.

i've been talking about all these plans, things set in motion, etc.
the path to bettering myself.
and i've been waiting with baited breath for the inevitable shoe-drop.
and here it is.
my car seemed to be pulling to the left a bit more than usual last week,
and then friday on i didn't really drive, until yesterday.
on my way home, i felt like my steering column was going to break, it was so bad.
get home, and my tire's shredded. huge chunks just..gone. other tire's split down the middle.
not sure how this can happen, but it did.
so it's late. i try to take my wheel off, and two lugnuts break off. a third one does later.
many thanks to the jackass who overtorqued it at the last shop.
pep boys is the only place still open late enough i can tow to, that claims to be able to replace lugnuts,
as well as my tires.
so i tow.
and what should be a $80 deal, suddenly becomes a (so far) $400 ordeal.
the broke a mounting pin, had to replace my bearing as a result. extra parts, extra labor.
i knew these guys were fairly incompetent, but this was supposed to be an easy job.
so i get a call today. that's all possibly fixed, but the hub between my axle and the wheel itsself is somehow
moving, when it should be stationary. this is another potential $200+ fix.
so here's me, trying to get by. paying rent for the first time in my life, living absolutely paycheck to paycheck,
and really not spending on much that's frivolous, aside from my weekly $20 at the bar.
and a bottle of cheap booze or two here and there.
this is six hundred+ dollars i do not have to spend.
there is no financial aid available to me for schooling, with the exception of possibly a student loan,
but the odds of that sound pretty nix too. (talking more on friday).
here's me, with a $2000+ sleep study bill, and no information as to how much insurance may or may not cover.
here's me with a surgery i wanted to get over with two months ago,
delayed until december 11 at the soonest.
the problem with that being..i have to keep my current job until at least january.
the problem with THAT being...i have to find a new job here in town where i can work nights,
in order to go to the school that i can't afford.
and needed to do it around december, to really make things work.
all i wanted to do was make a right turn...
to get in, get out, and start touching some peoples lives in a positive way.
and this is where i sit.
stupefied, downhearted, confused, and yet...
this is all so fucking typical with the way things run in my life.
so...timing. and timing. and bad and bad.
and typical, and i should have seen this all coming, and did,
only tried to pretend like everything was going to work out ok.
because for once, i was trying to do the RIGHT thing,
instead of ..the thing.

maybe i'll make this the official beginning of the xmas death toll.
rename: the holiday death toll?

i've been trying to keep my mouth shut politically lately.
i'm so jaded, and so terrified, and so sad for my country, that i've felt beyond words.
did i say MY country?
maybe.
i do live here.
i am part of the machinery.
a citizen of THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
fucked up as we may be.
earlier today i wanted to write a lot about this.
and this late in the day, i can't find the words, or the motivation.
but i will say this.
The current leadership of this country is systematically destroying all of the things that make our country so great.
They are taking away our rights, our privileges, our standards, our power and will to change.
They've taken our privacy, and continue to infringe on what should be inalienable rights.
..all in the name of...Freedom?
from terror...in a neo-despotic state.
from oppresion...in a country where dissent is called terrorism, or collaboration.
They've used things we've done in the past as pretext to create war in other places, when they do likewise.
we are paranoid.
they are paranoid.
you are the enemy, if not wholeheartedly supportive.
and this is wrong.
criticism, and change are the RESPONSIBILITY of those of us who enjoy the 'freedom' this republic supposedly offers us.
but somehow everything's been skewed.
I fear for the future of my once proud nation.
I fear for the safety and sanity of my friends and loved ones.
and i am absolutely appalled and ashamed at the things perpetrated, in MY name.
this is not local, this is worldwide.
we are sowing the seeds of discontent across the globe, and in the process, losing what limited support we've had.
People are killing and dying for a fraud.
I'm not sure whether the man in the oval office is deranged, mildly mentally deficient, guided by the wrong hands,
all of the above,
or something more sinister that i cannot see.
Whatever it is, it is wrong,
and it should be stopped,
reversed best as possible,
apologised for,
discussed,
with disgust,
and made to never happen again.
We stand on the brink of what could be global war.
and issue a collective shrug.
or, more fitting...
a national yawn.