38/1

Weld spatter burns pepper arms that prop up a head that aches like poverty. The flies buzz by like maverick pilots and cause one of the arms to lash out in an annoyed ballet. Coffee and water stand on a stained Formica battlefield cooling and warming in unison.
Both becoming unpleasant.
The murmur of patrons drone along with the piped in pop creating an audible equivalent to the cranium ache. Eyes peer at the empty other side of the booth, the ceiling painted in nicotine, soft water spots on sparkling new silverware and an ashtray as empty as an insincere eulogy. The server strives for an Academy Award with his customers’ two booths up.
Eyes close
Eyes open
Breathing is measured as nothing happens at this spot, on this planet as it spins, hurtling through space.

Eclipse

It wells up from deep inside
From a deep, dark crevasse where a terrible creature dwells
Banished from this mortal plane with considerable effort,
It has slept for some time only to be roused by the fool-hearty actions of man

It feeds on anguish and misery
And lusts for disharmony and sin

It whispers devious ideas and encourages pointless acts of violence

It resides in me

I felt its eyes open and its craving grow

Now I fight to keep it restrained because I remember what life was like when it roamed free and I can imagine it will be thrice with savagery should it resurface

I remember the feeling, the slow, roiling blaze that consumed my heart, my mind, my very self
The loathing degradation just waiting to be released
I remember the weight on my shoulders and the way my rusted, wretched heart would screech and wail at the idea of happiness

I remember the anger,
The hate
The blind desire to storm in and decimate, intimidate
Dominate

The rage



And I remember how much a part of me liked it

I've been absent for a while...

Greetings Friends,

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. As you might have noticed, I haven’t been posting a lot. There are a variety of reasons for that but it boils down to I haven’t really dedicated the time to it. I am a person who finds it difficult to turn down a project. It can be something someone approached me with or something that manifests in my imagination. However it show up, I feel the need to take it on in some fashion or another.

I don’t really know for sure why or when this behavior started but I believe it was connected to the passing of a very dear friend. We initially dated in high school and were kind of on and off for a while after that. When I moved out of my folk’s house, we got an apartment together and continued out casual relationship when we weren’t dating someone else. I always kind of carried a torch for her though so none of my relationships ever lasted for any real amount of time. However, one of hers did.

She met a guy and they really hit it off. I was, of course, conflicted. I wanted her to be happy but I wanted it to be me that made her happy. After a while their relationship seemed like it was going to settle in for the long run and then one day she told me she was expecting. Soon after, they moved in together and I got on with my life..sort of. I would visit occasionally, when he was out of town and we would catch up. She was always faithful to him and I was always respectful. The first child came and after a couple of years, so did another. I was happy for her. She had a life that made her happy. I, however spent that time sabotaging my life and relationships waiting for a movie ending that wasn’t going to happen. A story where they girl realizes she chose the wrong man as a hero and races of to fix things.

Instead, I got a phone call at work. It was around 9am Friday, April 2nd 2004. It was my mother and she told me some of the worst news I’ve ever received.

I spent the following days in a bit of a fog. I had been writing in notebooks for a couple of years at that point so I went and got a new spiral and dedicated it to her. I think it was sometime during the writing in this notebook that I went through the panic of mortality that often set in to people who lose someone close. On the inside cover of her notebook I wrote about times constant march. I wrote the words to form the shape of a stopwatch and the hands say “We only have 3 seconds”

When ever I talk about trying things and having a busy life I always reference that phrase, “We only have 3 seconds”. I don’t know where the thought or number came from but it rang true and it has become sort of a mantra for me.

As I sit here writing this, I realize I hadn’t really meant to tell you all of that. I originally set out to explain why I haven’t been posting very much. The fact is I haven’t been inspired to write in a long while. Creative people often have peaks and valleys and I think I’m in a valley right now. When I write, I don’t want it to be a journal/diary entry. I want it to be something the reader can get something from. I also like my post to be fully researched with pictures and hyperlinks so that it’s not just text on a screen and I have not been interested in doing that in quite a while. It was a little easier previously because I had an office job which allowed me to stay after work in a quiet environment and work on these but I've switched positions a couple of times since and now I have to dedicate time to sit behind a computer and deliberately write. Once I get going, it's easy but the initial dedication is challenging. My home is filled with distractions. I’m not saying I’m out of the valley, I just had the opportunity today to do some writing and wanted to put up a post since I have been absent for a while.

I am thankful for my busy life and all the people involved in the projects I am a part of. I am grateful for the time I had with my friend and the inspiration she is responsible for. I am also grateful for those of you who take the time to read these little blurbs I float out onto the ocean of the internet. It is my hope that each of you can be inspired to do something you never knew you wanted to.

A tribute to a lost family member.

A friend of mine suggested I put this post together. On Tuesday, November 19th 2013 we lost our loving dog Hannah.

She was a very special dog. A purebred rottweiler, she spent the first part of her life in a cage and was eventually scheduled to be destroyed because she wouldn't breed. She was saved and through a series of events she ended up at the vet we took our previous dogs to. They contacted my parents and after a brief interview, they adopted her. She was one of the sweetest animals I have ever met, always friendly almost to a fault. Her capacity to hug would sometimes push people right over and she would give kisses to the point where my folks were fond of saying thier dog cannot control her "licker". Evidence of trauma from her time in the pen would show up but gradually faded over time as she began to feel safe and loved. You could also see evidence of her isolation as she would often entertain herself with her toys.

Gradually over time she developed a type of blindness that is sometimes found in the rottweiler breed. She lived with this condition for quite some time. However, as time went on, she began to have a more difficult time standing up and developed other, more problematic health issues until eventually she went on to spread happiness in a different world. The veterinarian and his staff sent my folks a very special sympathy card.

She was indeed special. She wasn't just an animal, a dog or a pet; she was an significant member of our family and the ache that is left by her passing is only bearable with the memories we shared with her. It is my sincerest wish for anyone who has a non-human family member to cherish the time you have with them. They make your life better. I know this because Hannah made the lives of all that knew her better. We miss you puppy.

Echo of a life

It’s been 27 years since that day- 27 years ago, it finally slipped away- I held on for as long as I could- It didn’t really hurt as bad, as I thought it would- Still I hear the sound that it made- And the sounds of the gravel, going in the grave- It’s been a desperate journey ever since- The whispering of my memories, sometimes make me flinch- My boots keep time with the throbbing in my mind- A downward cast head slowly adds, to the curvature of my spine- Left foot Right foot slowly I traverse - To me, the thought that I survived, really seems perverse- I haven’t spoke to anyone in years- The closest thing to a shower I have is wiping away the tears- I don’t think I am human anymore- There’s so few of us on this planet, we’re easy to ignore- Living is just a habit I can’t break- The blood still moves and the lungs still draw breath for breathings sake- Up ahead the horizon waits for me- I wade into the water and slowly slip beneath- My mind is calm as I’m swallowed by the tide- Lulled to sleep by soothing sounds of the Oceans gentle sigh- It’s been 27 years since that day- 27 years ago, it finally slipped away-