If I am lying to myself, then I am lying to everyone else

One bottle of beer, pour a shot of scotch and grind a perc in my teeth.

There was a girl at the putney school, her father was a writer, "a big deal."

The writing teacher on campus, frustrated, drunken, would burst into her dorm room late at night and berate her for making him look bad in front of her father by not taking herself seriously.  "you keep making the wrong choices and I pay the penalty."

If this is what you really want, she told herself, then make that you choice, be active.  But if you are allowing this to happen because this will make dad love, you are just giving this guy permission to rape you.  Could it be he needed her hell, that this was how he was fighting his monsters? She wanted to believe the pain and humiliation was love.  The path to her redemption.

when the monster would come out and finally spend itself, I would put it back inside me  the darkest corner of the deepest basement.  There was nothing left to do but try to sink those memories.  I would banish the victims feom my life, not for their sakes, but because of the shame I felt.

Tonight's dream

Battling knofe weilding little child in a tiny space.  Somehow he tricked me into charging into the room, I think because he was attacking someone.

He was faster than me and I knew the only way to get the knife was to concemgrate on grabbing him and not the knife.

My gambit was I could subdue/disarm/kill him before he had a chance to mortally wound me.

Alphaville

French new wave cinema the equivalent of bebop.  That is not an original thought

Evidently, NW filmakers love american hard boiled detective novels (ironically, this uniquely american genre bears a french name, roman noir)

Trenchcoat wearing, gun toting private eye looking Lemmy Caution travels to the galaxy alphaville to wreakchaos, overthrow thetyrannocal supercompiter Alpha 60.

Lemmy Caution is the epitome on manhood, an ultraviolent super sexually charged force that disrupts life in Alphaville like a natural disaster (or maybe he is anarchy?  A modern regicidal agent sent to disrupt the soulless world of logic, science, prudence and something else). Throughout the film, Caution stoicaly dispatches the random assains that seem to materialize out of no where.  He is also constantly  fending off who appear randomly to through themselves at him.

He has no time for these government agents of destruction and seduction.

What book the beatnick was reading ?

Pawn shop robbery

I am a hypocrit.  The worst kind because I know what I am and cannot stop.

I found a beautiful thing once and it changed me; I became a knight with a quest to share the sublime, transcending power of this object with the world.

As I stepped over the sacrificial bodies, mayrters for my quest, I realized I would never fulfill the second promise I made to those lifeless bodies; it would always be mine.

FML

To tell the truth, I had to leave church tonight because I was suddenly wracked with unimaginable pain.  I guess I didn't need to imagine it, I felt it.  What I don't understand is where it came from-why now, after a veryu busy, productive, painfree day is my skin crawling, nerves jangling and I can't focus on anything?

I picked up my stuff, made apologetic gestures, and scooted out of the room, trying hard not to run (not like I can, or maybe I can if motivated) to my car and race home.

Thinking, take another half and I'll be fine.  It was 2 hours early on the schedule I set up, but this could not be denied.  Fuck it, I still had plenty left of my daily dose (40mg, 25 left).

I wanted to take more, at least a whole 10, but talked myself down to just a half when I got home.  Now, 3 hours later, the skin crawls, etc. etc. all over but this time, they are really bad.  The urge is to take a lot, fast, grind it up or chew it, mix it with alcohol, snort it.

Fuck, if I knew a way, I would probably be smoking or shooting.

Showing remarkable restraint, I decide to take one whole 10 mg and swallow it.

I want to call my friend and compare notes on our evenings, did you hurt yourself, too?  Are you feeling what I'm feeling?  Because I am sure you have had your tragedy today, your deep blue low.  How did you fare?  Me?  I'm doing fine now.

Just fine.

Until tomorrow.

Another fucking nightmare

Someone was in the house, maybe.

I was trying to understand what my wife was mumbling in her sleep, "Just explain it to me so I can understand," I begged, "then I promise I won't keep you up," a threat.

She got up and went into the bathroom.  An ambivalent gesture-either she really had to go or she was avoiding me.

No, if she was avaoiding me, she would kick me out like she did lasy week;  accusing me of hurting her.  I tossed and wrestled with myself in the guest room that night.  When had I done it?  Was it sometime when I was in a drugged delusionally drugged state?

In my dream, I suddenly heard music from the living room.  I tentatively started out thedoor.  I wanted to warn her that there may be an intruder.  She gone back to sleep.

When I left the bedroom, I tried to steady myself on the wall and kept telling myself that there was no-one in the house.  I ran nack to the room when I couldn't turn in the lights.  The fear rose in my throat and I felt myself beginning to yell.

The I woke up and walked through the house, chasing the cat off the furniture and stepping over the big, dog, whimpering and growling in her sleep, appearently having her own nightmares

2012 07 30 More fuck you for the fuck

I hate being reminded about how limited I am. Being around people who are better than me really burns. Needing someone like that completely sucks. I mean, yeah, granted, I couldn't do it, and yeah, granted, it needed to be done, and yeah, you are only offering because you are stuck here without a car and are bored, or my traitorous wife asked you to do. It burns.

2012 07 26 Insomnia

I was listening to Coldplay when I heard the words "when you're so tired but you just can't sleep." I love that song and it made me think of this: We were members of the Methodist church in Middle bury. There was a young, female pastor there, I think it was her first church out of seminary. When giving communion, she would greet everyone by name and a special message as she passed them the host, to me she said, "Michael, God loves you." I would invariably go back to my pew, tears running down my face, awed by what she told me. I have said and heard those words countless times, but never felt their meaning more intensely than after those communions. In those moments, the taste of bread and grape juice in my mouth, the most amazing, ineffable sensations surrounded me: light, warmth, a familiar touch, a radiant glowing, golden nimbus surrounded me. God loves you, Amy Morgan.

2012 07 24 12 Hours +

That was how long it has been since my last dose.  At some point yesterday evening, I took on e and a half.

I was doing pretty well with the wd until I had to interact with people.

Oh, and everything was hurting again.  I. Welsh in Trainspotting described junk sickness like a gently flowing see of painful object.  (I think-need to check it) and that it how it feels.

Oh, and Burroughs at one point talked about spntaneous orgasms, that would have been a problem at church this as.  But I have been randy as a three  balled dog.  There have been no leg humping incidents yet.

I decided that it was stupid to go any further when the pain level got so high and every sound, motion, etc. was like a trumpet blare, flashbulb burst in my brain, so I went into the kitchen and started to take one; then split it in two and popped half in my mouth, giving it a couple of quick chews to get it into my system.

Let's see how it goes.

I am starting to think that I am never going to get rid of this, maybe i don't want to be without it.  Not like I ever feel high, but I do feel a certain calmness.  I know I am not being original when i say that I used to have so many problems, now I only have one.

2012 07 16 Dream Karma

Carol was an older woman, probably younger than I am now, at work. After Lynn and I had our acrimonious break up, complete with infidelity, she became my rebound relationship.

I was a monster to her. Part of a pattern. The only good thing I did was repay the money I made her borrow so I could buy drugs. Carol's problem was she was extremely vulnerable. Being open and trusting isn't actually a problem, but it does make it easy to manipulate someone who trusts you. Her life was populated by bad men who treated her horribly.

I never made any attempt to gloss over my selfishness. I didn't want to rescue her or be in anything that resembled a stable relationship. She used to dream about me often, or at least she would say she had a dream about me; suspecting that it was a ploy to manipulate me, I made a rule that I didn't listen to other people's dreams. There was definitely an arc that reflected how she felt about me, at first I was the guy that chased away her monsters, reassured her and gave her security. Then her dreams become obsessed with me, was I sad? Was I angry? Was there some role she could play in my life?

Tonight I had a nightmare. It was a pretty confusing dream. I used to look forward to my dreams, they were fun, sometimes exciting. One time I dreamed I was riding my bike down a hill and lost control; my choices were to brave the busy street at the bottom or crash into a wall. I choose the wall and as it loomed closer, I saw my shadow cast on it, growing larger as I rushed forward. Eventually I realized it was the shadow of my head on the wall at the head of my bed, made by the morning sunlight. It was pretty neat that I could bring my dreams into waking life, however small.

There are plenty of times when I have used that in reverse to save myself something frightening. Once I was being attacked by London After Midnight's Lon Chaney and as I was falling, I yelled “Time to wake up!”

A lot of thought has been given to what dreams are. Interpretations span a vast spectrum of possibilities: portents of the future, expression of our deepest emotions, a glimpse into our deepest, most hidden aspects of ourselves, a fresh perspective on the indecipherable puzzles of everyday life, random, neural light shows, which out brains try to turn into recognizable shapes and behaviors. because that is what brains do.

And then there are the monsters, reanimated corpses that for years have pursued me from places to place, forcing me to fight for my survival.

One night I had a dream that I'd had sex with a woman that wasn't my wife. The over powering guilt that I felt woke me up and for quite a while I was tormented because I had to confess my infidelity to my wife. Eventually I realized that my only infidelity happened in my dream, there was no horrible secret to reveal. I went back to sleep a happy guy.

Tonight's dream was confusing, it made no sense, even for a dream. Eventually I went to bed, which began to move, slowly at first, but it rapidly began to increase, moving about the scenery of my dream. I woke up screaming.

Adrienne held my hand, reassuring me that I was alright. With her other hand, she fumbled with her computer. I expected she was trying to pause her Netflix so she could ask me what happened; she was actually trying to find the place where she fell asleep so she could resume her show.   

2012 07 10 How to unteach something?

Last time I really got to see Natasha was in Oxford.  She had come to pick up Mercedes, who was visiting during Adrienne's spring break.  On her last day with us, she was insane.  I came home from an IVIG treatment, expecting them to be on their way to the airport for the flight home.

Adrienne mouthed the word "run" to me when I came in.  I could hear Natasha in her room, screaming profanities at Adrienne and throwing things around .  Mercedes sat on her rocking horse, pale and looking very ill.  She came to me, asking to do my PT exercises with me, do a puzzle.

At once Natasha came into the bedroom and began accusing me of trying to take Mercedes away, listening to lies that our neighbors created.  She vowed she would never let us see her daughter again. No one was going to treat me that way in my own house. I stood up and told her that this was the last time she would ever stay us until she got her act together.

As Natasha strode around the house, hurling profanities, paranoid accusations and so much rage, Mercedes threw herself on the ground and began to cry in pain.  When I called to her, she said, "No, I want Mommy to help me!", I got a horrifying glimpse into what her life was like.  She had already learned to try to derail Natasha's insane behavior, even to the point of sacrificing herself, just to get her mom back to sanity.

Life without Natasha is difficult for Adrienne, whereas Mercedes hardly even mentions her.  But today, when Adrienne was upset, she followed her around, offering her gifts in an attempt to cheer her up.  Bits of paper, rocks, feathers, she offered to help her loose the heavy burden Adrienne was carrying.

I yelled at Adrienne and Mercedes went into her room and shut the door.  When she came out, she promised Adrienne she would be good now.  I hate myself for losing control like that, even more because I hurt them both.  Adrienne and I can talk it out, solve the problem, but how can Mercedes learn that it is  not her fault or her responsibility?

I feel so ashamed.

2012 07 05 (Movie review) No price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself - Friedrich Nietzsche

opening line

PdM's trailer had the look and feel of a post-zombie apocolypse Sile ce of the Lambs but turned out to be so much more

struggle of good v evil in  an immortal cop and a demon who brings about the end of the world

Possession

Brazil-Portugese language original horror film that moves quickly.  Starts with a gunfight and ends with a battle to save what is left of the world.

Beginning with a gun battle between a lone police office and three criminals, Beyond the Grave travels through an empty, and increasingly surrealistic world, populated by  meandering zombies and the human survivors of some grand disaster,  soundtrack and commentary provided by lunatic radio disc jockeys, declaring the end of the world, and ends with humanity's champion, dueling  ultimate evil.

This skillfully made, low-budget, independent horror film from Brazil delivers a thrilling tale that is far too unique in the horror genre.  Just when Beyond the Grave appears to be going over too familiar territory, director Davi de Oliveira Pinheiro and his team fearlessly head into uexpected directions.  I hope this means that, just like France and Japan before it, Brazil is ready to unleash a spate of original and shocking new horror movies.

More Insomnia

It is two am and I can't sleep without talking to you.  I had some trouble with this new med I am taking-didn't follow the directions about when to take it and how much, and Iguess I ended having some psychotic, profanity laced outburst in front of the neighbors and Mercedes.  However, I can't remember it (mercifully).

I feel really bad, not just about what happened but about what is happening to me.  Adrienne told me I am feeling sorry for myself and, while I agree there is a bit of that, I am also trying to figure something out-what it is, I don't have a clue.

Anyway, it just sucks to be me right now.  There, I am going on record for feeling sorry for  myself.  If anyone thinks I am happy about that, then they don't know me.

I am terrified.  I am really out of control and have been for a while.

I can't stop thinking about suicide.  I am not going to kill myself, I just feel so out of my depth.

Anyway, maybe I can go to sleep now.

(I feel better after having talked to you this morning.)

Insomnia

I gulp the thick liquid .   It surprises me howdesperate I am.  It is not a real t hirst .  Instead I drink the brandy and Benedictine , herbal taste masking the bite of the cheap  brandy to slake my need for oblivion or at least unconsciousness .

My desperation is so prevalent that at midnight I chewed up 2 perch, an hour before , a handful, counted, melatonin .

2012 06 01 Bullies

Unable to resisst the call of the strange boy, he turned his bike around and went back to were the older kids were hangingout on the porch, openly drinking beers.

THe one that had called out came over the railing and walked up to him, straddling his bike.  The boy was thin, had long stringy, red hair and his facewas more freckly than not.  As he walked up to Mike, he shuddered twice, making snorting sounds as his uppper lip curled two times.  "Tell me what you just said

I didn'[t say anything

I heard youdon't you lie to me

I am not.

The red haired boy's face reminded Mike of the cover of the book he had been secretly reading that summer, Jaws, which depicted a giant triangular shaped sharks head with a dark slit mouth full of similarly triangular teeth, swimming up towards an unsuspecting,k nude female swimmer (the one in the first chapter, the shark's first victim).He was reading it secretly because he was sure adults would think the swearing and sex would not be alright for a 6th grader to read.

Years later he thought back to that day, why did he stay there, so calmly, whi9le the shark headed boy had tried to provoke him.  Miker had calmly denied yelling anything.  Art one point, boy named Chuckie, older brother of one of Mike's classmates came onto the porch.Chuckie did not look like a boy, he was already what people called filled out.  Mike realized that meant he had powerful looking arems and flat, hard looking torso under his tight shirt.  His arms, extending beyond the sleeves rolled up beyond his elbows were big and powerful looking.

HE was carefully sipping the foam of the top of a recently opened beer can as he came oout onto the porch.  Checkie was legendary among the neighbor kids for refusal to kow tow to any form of authority, his mom, the teachers at the hs, and even the local police had already fought battles with him and lost, legend said.

Mike was secretly thrilled when he glanced over and said "Hi Mike" in response to his greeting.

Shark head had apparently reached his limit in trying to provoke the big middle school-er.  He shoved him and said, get out of here.  I don't want to see you around here any more.  Happy to be freed from the bully, Mike got on his bike and road away, a kind of what the heck just happened look on his face.

Years later, as a student teacher in a large, inner city middle school, anopther touggh, black boy would stare him down, insolently refusing to cooperate, disrupting the class.  Mike took his arm, come with me\

don't  you touch me.

shocked, he took his hand off and wheeled around, walking to the assistance principal's office, insearch of reinforcements.

And again, as he was past yet another group of lazy, bored teenager, with his friends, comeing ouyt of a bar, a skinny black youth stuck his hand up in the air, pointing and yelling to another kid, walking towards them.

Unable to avoid the hand, Mike simply reached up and with a sideways sgesture, pushed the hand to the side, not breaking his stride.  The boy exploded inindignation about being touched.  Mike stopped, calmly noting that for once, he did not feel the fear that had always kept him out of confrontations.  He turned around, facing the kid and say, "What exactly do you hope to gain here?"

The boy flicked his lit cigarette at Mike's face.  FLustered, he batted at it with his hands, trying to prevent it from touching skin or hair.  Once he had freed himself, he looked up to see the man running away from him.

2012 06 12 Tattoos

I got my first tattoo when I was in my late 20's in an attempt to get over a broken heart.  Getting something etched into my skin was a big deal, it was expensive (mostly because I was chronically poor) and so I put a lot of thought into my designs.  There are personal stories about all of mine, except for the one on my leg.  That I saw in a magazine and thought it would be a good 30th birthday present for myself.

There are many different reasons to get any sort of body modification-body mods have been around for as long as people started living together-stretching earlobes, tattoos, scars, brands, and so on.  Sometimes they are done as something symbolic, rite of passage, battle prowess, or sometimes they represent that cultures ideal of beauty.  You know, they just look cool.

Body mods serve two purposes; they are there for the bearer as some sort of testament and they are there (usually) to bear witness to others.   Most often, they demonstrate one's ownership of their own body.  I think that is why they are so popular among people on the verge of independence.  Natasha ponced asked me when she would be old enough to get a tattoo.  I told her that she could do it "when she figured out how to get one."

I saw someone with "4%" tattooed on her neck.  I asked her what it was and she said, "Because 4% will never snitch."  I really wanted to ask her more, but I kind of did not want to pry.  Does that mean a lot where you are from (Statesboro, GA, I presume)?  How serious a commitment is that?  Is your dislike of authority so great that you would let a vile, murdering pedophile get free because it was a badge of personal honor not to snitch?  Would you risk losing your children rather than divulging information about a crime, even if you were not involved, did not gain anything from it, or hated the perpetrators?

Also, where did she get her data?

Of course, these are all voluntary body mods.  I remember seeing men and women with concentration camp tattoos on their arms.

2012 06 01 Brattleboro, VT

I love driving on Vermont highways at night; they are always almost empty.  It is exiting to cruise up and down the dark corridors, my head lights lighting up the road in front, the glowing reflectors and traffic sign creating fluorescent markers ahead.  I feel like i am piloting a space shape, not lot would ever really know what that is like, but it is amusing to imagine what it would be like.

At the end of my intergalactic journey, I arrived at friend's house where I hadn't been in a while.  It was one of those things where I hadn't been.  The house was a place where I used to go, now it is a place where I have a history of going there.

Oh dear, another post about drugs...

Drug stories

I am not making this up, but I won't vouch for the rest of the links in the chair of custody.

Three college buddies, each with a unique skill set and resources, decided to make a lot of money in a one time venture by manufacturing and selling a massive amount of high quality LSD.

Combing their assets, they secured a place to function as combination lab and factory. The chemist set to work while the contact guy went to the coast to begin negotiations with the biker gangs they were going to sell to.

Once the batch was finished, he set off to exchange the LSD for the suitcase of cash. The others stayed behind and using mops soaked in rubbing alcohol, wiped down every surface of the lab, then set fire to it. The alcohol burned fiercely, destroying everything in the lab and removing any evidence that could be traced to the chemist and his partners.

Within a day, Drug Enforcement Agency agents where sifting for through the rubble, looking for clues to the one time students. As for the students, once they paid off their remaining expenses and split up the rest of the cash, they never did anything like that again.

When my therapist finished telling me this story, I initially thought, “Cool!” But, knowing just a little about these things from (extremely limited) personal experience and lot from reading crime novels, I was certain that this was not the last time any of them tried to do something like that. The world has plenty of corpses from capricious people who thought they could only going to do something once and never again.

It wasn't until years later I thought to ask, “why is he telling me this?”

Notes

 God of destruction as chemist moves about his yard, killing ants w/spray.  Then picking up dog crap, reflectiing on what is life is now that he is middleaged, broke and alone.  He misses is youth and strength.


80 degrees at 10 am


He is about to lose his house, housing crisis. He thinks about the time inb school when he and his friends made a big score, each swearing it was a one time deal.


His friends didn't honor that promise, living lives of adrenanel fuelded chaos-extreme sports, shady businesses  on the fringe of the law, addiction, jail, etc.


Don't forget the cop to prison guard to parole officer continuum of crazy

Big White Cloud (John Cale)

Mercedes told me she sees Natasha in the clouds and her mommy says "I love you" to her.


This is what I wrote at the end

I told you:

I will never love anyone as much as I love you.

The colors of the world will never be has bright,

as vital because you are gone.

We will never watch orange red purple pink over the mountains

Sharing favorite colors with each other

Watching the light and shadows playing off the impossibly huge

and impossibly evanescent clouds

Tybee Island

I knew you saw me staring at you.  You chose that bathing suit, red, white and blue, stars and stripes.  Was I not supposed to look at you?

Songs that make me cry

Sometimes I feel like a glass full of a red liquid, and the slightest shake makes me start spilling. 

I pulled this song out of my archive  of music to listen to someday when I got home after Natasha's funeral.  I was angry and the blunt, harsh, feed back drenched music was a cushion to me.  Once, while walking Eloise, I realized I couldn't see where I was going.  It was because I had started to weep that tears were blurring my eyesight

At night, when nothing else seemed to work, I would listen to this and would be asleep before the song ended.

Sometimes beautiful things threaten  to overwhelm me and  I find myself  in a mind typhoon.  The golden winds of sound sweep around me at gale force while the iron grey emotions swamp  my little boat.

2012 05 04 Tripping (first draft)

get ridd of second person pronouns

clean up repetition of words

So, you feel you at the point in your exploration of recreational drugs that it is time to think about hallucinogens.  This is a big step, hallucinogens are  really powerful in a way that alcohol or dope, even really good dope, have not prepared you for.  It is called a trip because once ingested, you will find yourself on a magic carpet ride that could be really cool or really suck.

Or both. There is a kind of Taoist symmetry to most good acid trips (true story).

2012 05 03 Junk Sick

A neighbor is BBQ-ing.  Ordinarily, the smell of BBQ causes my to salivate in a stimulus-response action that would cause Ivan Petrovich Pavlov to to get a boner.  Nut things are different today.
BI haven't taken any Percocets in the last 24 hours. My body is telling me I am way behind in my daily requirement of narcotics. First there was the pervasive nausea. Then the weird body spasms, and shivers. And finally, my bowels, freed from the constipating effect the pain killer, are now vomiting out my anus

2012 04 29 A Love Letter to my First (five) Neurologists

Physical Therapy
soaked in sweat, vision dimming
I am supposed to be able to do this
I will do it
I am getting better

fuck it and fuck you

Sitting on my  transfer board or shower chair
concentrating on falling over and
using my newfound infantile dexterity to wash myself
For the first time in months
I repeat my mantra for success

fuck you and you and you, you fucking piece of shit, you can go fuck yourself

When pushing my wheel chair
on sidewalks or bicycle tracks,
up hill or through narrow doors,
or rolling down hill, big grin on my face
around and around at Walmart
huffing and chugging

chugga chugga  fuck you!
my voice rising to a do a "whoot whoot"  fuck you

Oh and to all the pompous docotors, gathering around my bed telling me I am going to start getting better soon, just have to plateau at the bottom first, and that anxiety is by biggest problem
so confident that I felt guilty for doubting you

May God bless you and forgive you for your arrogance
and pompasity
Even though you may not live in my world,
we both are human
That makes us infinately fallible, prone to accidents,
illness, error and the other human foibles of fuckery

I ask God to let his love and forgiveness channel through me to you
All your good works are blessings to us
but if it were up to me
I would happily weave you a crown made of
fuck you till it comes out your mouth
shaped thorns
and place it on your broad, white, holier than thou brow.

2012 04 28 I'll burn your fucking house down

this is part of something longer I would like to create about a middle aged guy becoming a monster seems to be a theme for me


I got the idea from a movie called Heavy Petting, when Alan Ginsberg asks Williams S. Burroughs if all he really wants is to be loved, to which WSB replies, "That depends, by who, or by what."

It was a cute house, Steve thought looking at the tiny home. The first floor was one big room, divided equally into kitchen dining area and living room with sofa and fireplace. He guessed the television was upstairs, in the master bedroom. There would also a smaller bedroom office and the only bathroom in the small structure up there as well. The smell of cooking dinner permeated the first floor.

2012 04 26 Poetry Reading

We went to a poetry reading last night at the sugar magnolia bakery the healthiest bakery in town.  The poems were really great, many made me laugh.  Some made me go oh wow as they forged a new link of understanding or shifted my perspective on something I thought was immutable or is it immovable?

There were no poems that made me cry.

One woman read a hilariously graphic love poem full of gruesome and gory details, it was like watching a slasher movie.  I wanted to tell her what I thought about her poem, that it was delightfully ghastly, but lost my nerve.

I did approach two authors to tell my appreciation of their shared works and they were all like, who are you, what's you name, where are you from?

I was angry with myself for not even trying to write something.  I am after all a writer an artist blah blah blah.

This ribbon goes to the person with the most consecutive, on time, attendance"

I am sorry that you feel those awards for participation are a threat to your child's first second third place trophy.

But speaking for the chronic, under achievers, those blue and gold or red and white ribbons are a testament to our willingness to just show up.  Not everyone wants to be a champion, or, more likely, we all want to be champions, but there is room for only so many at the top.

I spent my whole life wanting to be good, or, if I couldn't be good, not trying.

2012 04 27 Picture

I asked you to send me a picture
Smiling, I said I would wear it
while walking around the house,
pretending to have a conversation
Then, seeing reflection in a mirror or window
I wouldn't feel so lonely

(see, it isn't creepy at all)

What joy to be had
when those barriers
those miles, those hours, that Fahrenheit v centigrade discrepancy
no longer existed
We could share the same space,
eyes alive, lips and tongue working,
Dull and matte done away with
vivation and glowth now triumphant!

Of course we would laughingly agree all the time
and finish each other's thoughts
Like the best buds, evah!

But then, But then,
real you would now be superfluous
Your facebook posts would be lies!
A mean fiction created for the basest of purposes
to flout my Amy, in her 2 dimensional reality
We would have to put a stop that.
She and I would have to board a plane
To  silence your mean falsehood
You pretender
You liar!
and...

Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing you never gave me that picture

2012 03 23 Zombie town

She did not mind the community runs; it was her chance to get off the condo, act normal again.  She looked at the list, it would take until nearly dark to do these things, if she included her stops.

Elooise, her dog, was whining.  What is the matter honey, are you tense and nervouus?  Having trouble relaxing?" as she put on her (survival) suit.  Did you want to go for a ride?  at the magic words, the dog moved her dance over to the garage door.

Leavbing the garage, checking curved mirror on other side of the driveway, drivng through the gauntlet spotting an LD walking through the fog.

911 what's your emergency
I see a LD, my location
areyou in a safe place stay in your car tam is on the way
why would I get out?  AShy stick around?
look for others, alert rescuers a nd help them
why do i get something  More gas  maybe

broken world, man brought sin into Gid's perfect creation.  God hasn't abandoned man, man abandoned God.  Godis out there waiting for us, cryng with us wanting to bring us into his salavrtion

at store struggles with broken wheel on cart, ld attacking her car to get dog.  she slaps someone for not having her back when she rescues dog and car

returns to compound and kills another woman, making it look accidental, then goes home, leaving the body to reanimate and cause all sorts of carnage, confident that her murder will go undiscovered and she will get X benefit from it.

2012, 03, 19-TMI

I don't know what happened to the original post, the Internet appears to have eaten it.