I don’t know where I am going but I do know I was told I needed to go somewhere. I have a wife and child to support and the only way I’m going to do that is by riding in this bus; along with everyone else till we get wherever it is we are going.

-BAM- A crash is heard and nothing else. I look behind us in the direction of the crash and see one of the buses smashed to the size of a small car slowly sliding to a stop. It pushes several other buses aside as it slides.

Nobody says a word, nobody reacts, nobody stops. The other buses recover and we continue our slow creep forward. I suddenly begin to feel doubt in our choices. I begin to worry.

-BAM- Another bus suddenly reduced to rubble, nothing resembling of itself other than its color and the remains of its disfigured face.

Again we all sit silently, moving forward. Nobody speaks to anyone else. I try and seek the source of the impact to the two other buses but I can’t see anything past the rest, slowly moving forward unburdened by the chaos that had just taken place.

-BAM- Just like the times before; nobody responds.

Am I the only one seeing this? I begin to worry for myself, the people around me, my family. Who would take care of my family?

I recognize everything I am doing, everything my fellow passengers are doing, is wrong. We are going the wrong way. We don’t even know where we are going. We are all just following the same highway to satisfy the instructions of someone else.

-BAM-

I begin to speak up, I tell my nearest co-passengers of what is taking place all around them. None of them even look up at me. Their dead-to-life stare looking forward and nowhere else. Suddenly one of two in front of me looks concerned.

-BAM-

She turns to the man beside her. He’s middle aged, balding, wearing a suit that looks like he has worn it hundreds of times before.

“See, I told you something was wrong!” She pleads, “We need to tell these people, we need to stop this before it’s too late!”

He remains silent and continues to look forward.

-BAM-

She begs with him again, this time he briefly looks to her and speaks before returning his view forward.

“No way, we can’t tell anyone. If we do we will never get there”

-BAM-

The crashes are getting closer, more frequent. The crowd of buses remain undeterred as we continue our creep. I begin to imagine my son and my wife’s faces. I wonder how I could get to them, if I will get to them. I worry they too may be on one of the many other buses.

Suddenly my bus takes a turn onto an exit. For a moment I’m struck with relief. I begin to recollect myself and take heart that we have arrived to our destination.

Ahead on the exit shoulder I see a coffin, and before it a woman all in black. Her arms raised in the air she woefully orchestrates to the audience before her with words of pain. My heart begins to sink for her.

My phone rings and I answer; it’s my boss. He tells me I am needed elsewhere immediately. He tells me there is no time to go home first; no time to delay.

I answer with one word only, “Ok”.

The first intention of every action I take is to do a better job than anyone before me, my second intention is to succeed.

***

Development of a better system comes from having a passion for the work being done in the first place. We will get no where by standing passively on the sidelines waiting for someone to explain the objective. We’ve got to drive what we already do to a whole new level.

We need to not only work through the existing volumes of expectation but to exceed at doing so unlike anyone else. We need to master the art of interpretation by first understanding the perspective of the people we serve. Our position as technical superiors only gets us so far before we’ve got to climb down on our knees and look through the same door that everyone else is using.

Proof is in the purpose. To some extent it can be argued that ability is under the mercy of provision. I disagree, there is no act that is beyond the actor, there is only the actor themselves and their desire to do what is being asked of them.

Moving forward requires not only planning, and tools, but also a headstrong will to succeed. If we are not that will then we have already failed.

***

Intelligent training – Focused on the function first, the exceptions and conditions later. Details come in layers, if they are all put together on the first layer the result will be a shallow discord.

Standard expectation – Every system operates with a pre-defined series of variables. The machine functions by a process that is measured and calibrated in advance. Refinement can always be done but you cannot make these types of changes until the pieces have been logically arranged. The work being done is not throttled by limitations of the machine but the quality pieces used to build it.

What the crap happened to my Open Office document editor? *Need to fix*

The flow of my thoughts hasn’t ever been more excitable. Now if only I could manage to get my accounts into order so that I could do something about it. It seems that for the most part I don’t even have time to shower let alone put any thoughts to process.

My momentary lapse of consideration for giving a fuck has made me a little cynical. It’s like trying to set ablaze a forest fire with a match. It’s a little late to start now but here I am, matchbook in hand.

Everything I try and do seems futile when I consider that it will never get finished. I’m like a robot, I turn on, follow my programs and go back to sleep.

I only use my left hand to type but somehow I still manage to maintain a wpm that is well beyond most anyone I’ve ever met. That is not to say that there isn’t someone somewhere who can type faster but when one hand is responsible for reaching more than 90% of the total keys you type and one finger is responsible for pecking the occasional p, o, l, or punctuation key I suppose a majority of your work can be done with one hand tied behind your back. Get it?

So anyway. I’ve been really enjoying coding but the fact that I write all the code just to watch it rot while I try and further idiot proof it from the general sludge that would otherwise use the application on a daily basis I find myself largely demotivated. I imagine that it is much like what creating the wheel felt like. Sure, you can put two of them on a stick and suddenly you get around a lot easier than before, but there will still be some asshole out there trying to figure out which side of a round object goes up.

I’ve recognized a value in presented information that I don’t think I noticed before. Sure anything can be made better with a powerpoint presentation and a monotonous speech poured over the crowd, making bored guestures to the screen; but when it comes to truly engaged information you suddenly find yourself wondering why this person is so excited. You feel like you’re missing out on something that you threw out the invitation to. “Hey, man, what is so great about this? What? That doesn’t make sense I never would have missed– oh. Really? Right.”

My back hurts, I’m tired, my hands are cramped, and I really don’t have a clear thought to save my life. I have no desire to sit around and be a pile of shit but right now it’s the only thing that feels good. I stink and most people find my presense unpleasant. I don’t care, they have no idea how warm and cozy it feels being me.

My shoes are cold and I don’t know where I left my feet. I’ve got a bad case of water but my bottle of thirst is empty.
I’m really just an angry man looking for somewhere to let it all out. I’ve tried to tie myself down and find a sense of piece inside myself somewhere. A laughable notion in itself, all it does is make me want to act out more.

I have a hard time getting through the day without feeling the immense desire to piss someone off on purpose. I’m pretty good at pretending I didn’t know any better but I often wonder how much better it would feel to just be open about it.

I don’t like that I think everyone else is an idiot, I just don’t know how to convince myself otherwise. I think if you had a belief the world was flat, and that at any point in time the extent of your sight marked the end of the world, people would have a hard time proving to you otherwise. Sure you can walk to a point in the distance that one marked the end of the world, but apparently you weren’t paying attention because now the end of the world is over there. *points*

I don’t want to be normal, average, or just like everyone else. I look at them and I see them washing aside with their personal vacancy. I like when people judge me because it means they have something to desire of me. I don’t want to sit alone in a room dying myself to sleep, that idea makes me sick to my stomach.

When I was little I used to think that one day I would challenge the greats. I would be the one who brought it all down. I guess I didn’t grow up fast enough because it’s too late now, the party is over.

King of Bother:

A pole weapon or pole arm is a close combat weapon in which the main fighting part of the weapon is placed on the end of a long shaft, typically of wood, thereby extending the user’s effective range. Spears, glaives, poleaxes, halberds, and bardiches are all varieties of pole arm. …

New York City O’Malley:

The halberd is the one that usually comes to mind for me

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Glaive!? Isn’t that a two sided knife!?

ILLIDAN OWNED YO SUCKAS

New York City O’Malley:

I think Blizzard takes creative license with some of these

Although from what I understand the Scots did Starfall people extensively in the 1600′s

King of Bother:

The general term for a group of pole-mounted weapons usually featuring a cutting or slashing weapon on one end. …

Neiderhiser, Jim:

http://api.ning.com/files/9cJg1y6smOB8jbE-r*dZzeKvgA0xIOCmCEKD2URGY0tI7PKCoTSkeZtKI0XT11qnTArQs-*wAe-msUCqIp6sf53*vwU0gD3E/Illidan_Stormrage_by_sandara.jpg

That is not a pole arm

Cthulhuberry:

Starfall?

First Google hit for that – “A free website to teach children to read with phonics.”

Those nice Scots

New York City O’Malley:

You are correct that it’s not a pole arm….I think it’s a Bat’leth

I hate myself for knowing that word

Cthulhuberry:

_http://tinyurl.com/ybj8dfk

Neiderhiser, Jim:

It is my verdict that pole arm is WAY too generic

I hereby declare spears not pole arms

But instead they are extensions of that which is lesser than expectation

Peacemaker Wilson III:

Just use a gun and end it all.

King of Bother:

Some classes can’t use guns

New York City O’Malley:

arquebuses all around

_http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arquebuses

Neiderhiser, Jim:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blunderbuss

Neiderhiser, Jim:

You think they could put light sabers on pole arms? Like 4 ways n junk… That’d be sweet

King of Bother:

Light saber is like the futuristic chain saw

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Yea except agile and lightweight and able to slice through metal without effort

So

No

No it’s not

Cthulhuberry:

Everything in the future will be lightweight and able to slice through metal without effort

Duh

Neiderhiser, Jim:

I know this one guy who might be an expert on certain subjects

New York City O’Malley:

I hope this answers your light saber/pole arm question…_http://3do.jediknight.net/dcm/strips/07.gif

Neiderhiser, Jim:

I want my fingernails to be able to slice through metal

I’d be like a super-villain

Cthulhuberry:

They will! In the future

New York City O’Malley:

Also it can fly

Regardless

In the future

Neiderhiser, Jim:

My fingernails?

I hope that I will be able to as well

That may prove painful and/or trying

Otherwise

Neiderhiser, Jim:

if my junk were a pole arm I would go into banks and be all like “THIS IS A STICK UP!” and start ominously threatening people with it but instead of cries of disgust or laughter it would be cries of fear

New York City O’Malley:

Um

plz to define “junk”

Neiderhiser, Jim:

You know… the “spares”

King of Bother:

You would go through a lot of GF

New York City O’Malley:

GF = good fun?

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Pun intended?

I’d be like Edward from Twilight…. “I CAN’T I’M DANGEROUS” and she’d be all “I don’t care, it’s so sparkly and beautiful!” and I’d be like “Ohh nooooo it’s sooo painful and lonely”

And then I’d make a movie

And be famous

New York City O’Malley:

The painful part would be trying to look morose and soulful and pained and deep with a meticulously messed-up hairdo all the time

At once

And then Blade would come and kill you

and Donal Logue would be there

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Then some dude with light saber nipples would show up in the sequel and be like “I’m dangerous too but not in a humiliating sparkly way like this douche” and steal her

And I’d fight him to the death

King of Bother:

Would it go right through the back of the head?

Peacemaker Wilson III:

Well Jim, with your new haircut you really don’t fit the mold for the quietly weird, slightly gay, vampire.

Maybe you did before….

New York City O’Malley:

Harsh

Peacemaker Wilson III:

I can feel it caaaalllliiinnnggg in the air at night….

Did you really say light saber nipples?

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Yea and you could tell when he was angry because there would be glowing embers of nipple death beneath his shirt

Whoa dude do you know who Suge Knight is?

King of Bother:

I don’t

B-ball coach

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Peacemaker Wilson III is a freaking music producer!

This is all a front!

Well

Used to be

Before one guy got shot

Peacemaker Wilson III:

Yeah, he hung King of Bother and his buddy Vanilla Ice over the ledge to make him sign a contract.

My daughter calls me Kimbo Slice

*calls

New York City O’Malley:

King of Bother, have you now or at any time been known to cook MCs like a pound of bacon?

King of Bother:

Is that a fruit?

Peacemaker Wilson III:

U R da fruit….

New York City O’Malley:

hahahah that kind of fits…although I must say your beard is far better trimmed than Kimbo

Also I think you probably fight better

Peacemaker Wilson III:

Yeah, he got KO’d the last two fights.

What a poser….

New York City O’Malley:

Backyard fights =/= MMA

Peacemaker Wilson III:

I saw the fight when the cop beat him up in someone’s basement.

Peacemaker Wilson III:

_http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rick_Ross_%28rapper%29

Neiderhiser, Jim:

niiiiice

King of Bother:

King of Bother (Gangster Name)

New York City O’Malley:

King of Bother (Gangster Name+kaidekaphobia

Fear of the number thirteen

Neiderhiser, Jim:

if King of Bother was a rapper his name would be Orange Jubilee and after his first hit single he’d make a new follow-up single called ‘Big O’ and demand that the lady’s call him Big Orange from that day forward

Peacemaker Wilson III:

hahahaha

We would be his posse’, controlling the ho’s at the concert.

King of Bother:

O’s not ho’s

Neiderhiser, Jim:

That would be the name for his fan base

“O’s”

They’d be o-nutz when they go to his shizz-O’s

Neiderhiser, Jim:

The entire franchise would fall apart after a dry year when it is revealed that he is actually a white guy wearing an orange shirt singing about “smoking meat” and “eating fatties” rather than “eating meat” and “smoking fatties”

New York City O’Malley:

Not even the announcement of the upcoming tour with Rhymenoceros and Hiphopopotamus would save him then

Neiderhiser, Jim:

It’s ok because his “twin brother” that nobody knew about would come back harder than ever as a country singer

New York City O’Malley:

The chart-topping single “Hot Dog One” would establish him in the industry and bring him fame and fortune

Peacemaker Wilson III:

And his rival in the charts would be a new single called “Disney01″.

Neiderhiser, Jim:

There would be a love scandal involving sausage, Mickey mouse and a shit ton of mayonnaise

Peacemaker Wilson III:

A shit ton….LMFAO!!!!

New York City O’Malley:

I want to have a band one day called “a shit-ton of mayonnaise”

King of Bother:

I am officially offended here at work

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Don’t be a girl

You should go tell on me

Get me called into the office

Peacemaker Wilson III:

OK, use Miracle Whip

No mayo

King of Bother:

I’ll get you called into her oraface

Orafice

New York City O’Malley:

orifice

Mister Mickey Mouse, sausage and a shit-ton of mayonnaise over there

King of Bother:

Thanks prof.

Neiderhiser, Jim:

Goofy, two of the seven dwarves and the artist formerly known as prince will all testify against you in court. Fully disclosing the acts that you engaged in whilst covered in a shit-ton of mayonnaise

The proceeds of which lawsuit will fully fund my light saber nipples

Neiderhiser, Jim:

I’m changing all of our names for protection from the government in the event that what we said here IS in fact illegal in 48/50 states….so what does everyone want their name to be?

Is being democratic is the equivalent of idealism and a disconnect with real world issues? If so then does being republican make you a racist bigot who hates everyone that doesn’t agree with you? Of course not yet still we continue with these divisions over a common goal. It would be as if every major sports team broke into two sub teams that disagreed on how the game should be played. Or if soldiers at war suddenly broke into disarray undecided who the enemy really is. I feel empathetic toward these people who would deny me choice and opportunity simply based on the color of my skin, the accent of my dialect, my choice of religion or sexual attraction. It disgusts me but still I fear offense because I would never want someone to think I was trying to tell _them_ how to live. After all, sir, the way you’ve chosen to live your life in the privacy of your own home far from my poor incapable eyes, hath offended.

From the day I was born I’ve been told by society to obey, trust and be witnessed under the eyes of a god that I was told my first day of American History that I had a choice not to believe in by the Declaration of Independence. Contradiction is the bread from which I nourish my mind. We are placed onto a conveyor belt from the age of 4 and trained that at the age of 18 we should be able to identify ourselves and our future all the while having accumulated a large supply of a life damning currency that in it’s 2 hundred year existence has become the undoing of our nation.

Without the division of social caste systems we are still no better off. We are under fire each day as we work to not offend by essentially not existing for fear of being sued. Sued by the lack of a common sense law that would hereby enforce all men and women with intent to use the law to claim a right or deny that of any other citizen to provide some sort of common sense to back up their reasoning. Instead we continue to go in and out of a constant state of cultural regression, all the while completely ignoring the fact that our children are being suffered relentlessly by our piss poor examples of “morality”. When we no longer deny one another simply because some archaic and completely off-base grandparent belief tells us to, I’ll be happy to discuss this further. Until then I don’t want to hear any more inquiries about why I’m anti-social. In the words of Patrick Henry, give me liberty or give me death.

[geekwar]

and to think that we’ve lied
to ourselves;

[pardonm3]

I think daily. I speak. I drink. I smoke. I toke. I live. I love. I hate. I want. I need. I like. I dislike. I laugh. I cry. Daily. I do. But Unfortunately I dont die… Feels like it though.

[you]

daily kisses she never misses everymorning and guilt and silent hisses

[emre]

I did go on a trip to the mountains in Tennessee for a weekend recently with E. and her family. It was quite a trip and I have a writeup I did about it however I’m still considering if it’s one I want to globally share or not. All and all I’m just trying to keep my focus so that I can complete something for the first time in a long while.

I’ll be back soon enough though, worry not.

Sitting at the counter of a local coffee shop a man just asked me if I was a writer.

I answered with a puzzled but modest, “Yes”

“Good, but because of that, society has no place for you” He replied with a smile that made light of his statement

I looked back at him, laughing uneasily. He began to walk away and as he did so he turned back again and said “Because you think your own thoughts;  You have no place.”

—–

Conception leads to deception
It Couldn’t be a better friend
There could never be
A more peaceful end
Take it or leave it
It is what it is

—–

Silhouette

Silhouette
Sweet, Silhouette

Your outer lines so well defined
Your borders so clear
Not a moment that I’m unsure
It’s not what is outside that I fear

Silhouette
My sweet, Silhouette

No certainty on the inside
I know not what to expect
As the truth within your borders
A confession of the light’s neglect

Silhouette
Sweet, Silhouette

Why has the light forsaken you
Why is it you have done
My dear, sweet, Silhouette

—–

“When you’re down and out, everyone wants a piece of your ass”

—–

Dollar sign love
You make me feel so special
When my pockets are lined
You leave me feeling so special
When you are needing
On every opportunity
I can count on you
Oh every chance I have coming
I can depend on you
Taking me for all I am
Leaving me what I’m worth
Only with you
Do I know what it’s like
To be the object of desire
With you, my dollar sign love

—–

Momentary
It s not imagination that is limitless
Dissociative disorder

—–

“November 29^th 2004”
I’m sitting here on the rocks at the beach, staring out at the sunset. The waves crashing upon the jagged perch I sit causing water to sprinkle upon my legs. I don’t care. I’m alone and it’s silent except for the roar of the ocean. My only thought is when I’ll manage to pull myself from here and return to the rest of the world.
I spoke with my mother today. I actually have intent to speak with her again soon, the first time in years. I was not surprised by her support for my search in life. To find a place and thing that holds a passion. I feel she’s the only person I know who so greatly shares my romance with life and being alive. I’m certain she is where I got such a trait.
The waves have drawn nearly silent. The battle is over and no lives were lost. I think it’s all so beautiful. The waves so welcoming and desirable, it comes as a shock that the water is so cool to the touch. There are two owls sitting atop the steeple at the Naples United Church. Their horned heads brilliantly defined in the night by the spotlight that shines upon them. They hoot into the night with an eerie expression of sincerity.
Moons hung from the cold branchless trees shine brighter than the sun, lighting the jungle walls that intertwine, covering the solid roads. Roads that echo the hourly calling of distant tribes. Synchronized exclamation, their bells can be heard competing for one another’s followers. Fairies float about, appearing and disappearing. Joyously they play as the wind sings and the trees dance.

—–

Written in the midst of glory
I think of you
Of the times we’ve spent
And the things we do

—–

It’s not that you need me
To live another day
I simply have faith in the difference
That I can provide
I never expect you to love me
I know you never will
I just know the truth
That sooner or later
I will

—–

Broken
A fool could tell
Broken
My deceptive little hell
Nothing seems to matter
Nothing seems to weigh
Broken
Is how my heart now lay

—–

I can’t help the way I feel around you, as the world sinks away. I can’t believe the way I see you, while the night washes out the day. You begin with hello and end with goodbye. There is nothing special, yet I’m left feeling blind. I can’t see anything except you, settled softly in my mind.

—–

It’s a mystery to me
The way a person’s mind perceives
Puts a damper on my desires
To relive the past
I try to tell myself
‘To each their own’
But sometimes
It just isn’t enough
As I sit here
Cradled in my mind
The thoughts of being one of ‘them’
Those whom devour the lies
It fills me with paranoia and fear
Never do I wish
To settle for ‘just the way it is’
And go on with my life
Ignoring all the warning signs around me.
She was right
The witch
She warned me that my curiosity
Would lead to great things
At the cost of understanding
Or acceptance
Of all that is common
That is regularly known
About reality.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have
Ever opened that book
Unleashing the pages
And information within
I cannot be satisfied
Forever hungry
Thirsting for more
More to conceptualize
More to absorb
Less to believe
Less to deny
Perhaps you weren’t meant to be here
With me
Perhaps you weren’t supposed to know
Everything I contain
But it’s too late for you now
The curtain has been drawn
The tricks have been revealed
I’m here to show you
What life is all about
Make you immortal
And bless you with a curse
To never be lifted
Which will surpass any grave
And prove to you
None of this
Stop watching the shadows
Flickering on the cave wall
Prepare to see the light
That shows you all that is
Removing all that was

All that is, is light.

—–

“I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles.” – The Who

—–

Just another version of me
The anger that swallows me
The jealousy that corrupts me
The joy that blinds me

—–

(In fading blotchy red ink)
Damn this red pen
Damn it for not being black
Damn it for not writing smoothly
Damn it for staining my hand
Damn it for tearing through
Damn it…
For not being you
For allowing me to express it
Like I’d like to
For letting me hold it
The way I’ll never get to
For letting me show it
The sincerity that I contain
For letting me imagine
The things I’d like to be
Damn you, pen
Damn you.

—–

The air feels good on my back
The rain in the air makes the pages stick to me
Still there are things
That trouble me
Relax

—–

Your fear is my companion
Along this lonely road
As forever comes to an end
We swear to never know
Where these things could lead
So on our lives go.
It’s not that you don’t understand
I’d be a fool to not believe
It’s only human nature
To shed blood when we deceive
The truth is shallow
Hardly overwhelming
But only if you are willing
To stand up on your own
Because no two lives
Are ever truly one
But an outstretched hand is bitten
Only by those whom love

—–

I am thy savior
If only you’d let me
I’ll show you that you’re lonely
Just as lonely as me
I am the omnigod
As all things are we see
But none are quite as willing
To sacrifice like me
My pain is my pleasure
My scars are my reward
Just because you don’t see them
Doesn’t make the skin less hard

—–

“Time. Time. Stop wasting mine. Mine. Don’t stand there crying. Crying. Just make up your mind” – Henry Rollins/Rollins Band

—–

The circle represents
All that is
All that is complete
All that is omnipresent

—–

Professional Self-Agitation
It’s my new job title
“Welcome to reality kiddo”
The scratchy voice inside me says

—–

I’m a madman, although I’m the only person who seems to know it. Its been a long a long time since I’ve felt completely open to somebody. People know things about me, but nobody actually knows me. Only I can hear the irrational voices setting the scene of my mental playground.

—–

Held down by ‘fuck-sake’ I shrivel in the palm of your cold hand like a dying rose. Make no mistake about it, I am the anti-man.

—–

I’m not indefinitely certain why I’ve got the sudden urge to do this. Hell I’m not even that sure how to begin. Still I try and this pen and paper bare witness to my attempt. The music plays on and everyone within ears reach is tapping a foot, finger or somehow nodding along. One man, directly across the restaurant from me is reading a book called ‘Blink’. I’m interested to its contents as the gentleman seems to be a very interesting looking individual. My brief conversation with him, although work related revealed he prefers the disappointing truth over a false promise of something great. That’s respectable in my opinion. The regulars here at Denny’s are exceptionally loud and arrogant tonight.

I have yet again been Interrupted by a passer-by taking notice to the fact that I’m left handed. I don’t recall ever receiving as much positive attention for that trait as I do now. Hardly a bad thing, but I find there are quite a few left handed people in my life. It’s no big thing.

Coffee, an imperfect blend of life and death that requires effort to make it compatible with my taste buds. The man reading ‘Blink’ nearly left his cell phone behind. I guess even high-minded folk lose their minds from time to time. I can hardly breathe through all the individual thoughts floating around the room. Even those totally engulfed in conversation have eyes which scream the desire to get out. One peaceful mind would serve as good company right now. One person who could lose themselves as easily and feel the world melt away for even a second. Last sip. The cup is empty and the taste of death has settled upon my tongue. Time for another cup.

Black. Never have I seen a more busy color. Never have I tasted a more uninterrupted thing. Like the slippery slopes of pleasure, black is what we all internally strive to reach. Don’t try and argue my point or you’ll just tighten your grip on the ledge from which your tired body hangs. Only one person here seems to understand my separation from the group on such an intimate level. He stands among them yet holds his head higher and surveys those around him. To himself he holds his criticisms quiet as he passes a subtle gesture in my direction, indication of his acknowledgement of the black-hole of self gratifying and verbal-lust taking place around us. Half-empty. My cup is about to gesture a new desire for fulfillment soon too. Along this runaway train’s route I pass so many others. Frantically they search for the doorway to the engine room before we crash, smash and burn our way off the end of our loosely held lives. Another gulp and the cup is empty.

A cigarette, fresh cup and several empty conversations later I sit down to contemplate trust. A person who wants so little, assures so selflessly and preserves so much. There must be a catch. Caught in the burning sensation of desire, I feel like a wildfire. I can only grow. Nothing is left behind from a good flame. The ashes are delicate reminders of a once volatile existence, now cleansed by an inferno.

—–

“Jim is a straight boy trapped in a gay man’s body.” – Hector Florez

—–

Relentlessly bleeding I seek out the opportunity to show my worth to your value. Yet every time I am left feeling less approachable than before. Through the faults that hold me back, I try again.

—–

My fingers ache as the sea breeze blows by and pushes my hair forward, into my face. All I can think about is you. Seeing you, talking with you, laughing with you.. The list goes on, as do I. I know this place isn’t for me, I know I’m supposed to break free of it long before I will find myself satisfied. However when I am with you none of it really seems to matter. There is no concern for time or place as I fall softly in your arms and dream in the warm caress. I never asked for any of this. To be honest I didn’t even want it. I’d be a liar to say I don’t crave it now. I felt I had it all figured out and that I would play the game with relentless forward direction. I thought so anyway.

Along you came and stopped me in my tracks, leaving m begging for more. My curse is my fortune. Nobody wants to be part another over-played generic love story but when it’s you that it is happening to, nothing feels generic. Just like the sun, it rises and shines down on us brightly. Never again will it be as bright as it is right now. Woe is that a simple phone call from you can spoil it all.

—–

“Pedestrian Crossing”

I’ve noticed something very interesting about people who cross traffic in parking lots. Have you ever been pulling into a shopping plaza and seen someone stop walking to let you pass first? Well on this particular day you’re feeling a little nicer than usual and you wave them to go ahead and cross first. They take a few steps, then begin to jog a few steps before clumsily stumbling their way across the rest of the way. Ok maybe it’s just me, but I figured out why this happens! It’s this feeling of guilt for burdening the person, so you begin to feel anxious and ‘jog’ half way through as if your feet are made of lead and you’re on a full stomach.

This just leaves you imagining that the guy is watching how you run and laughing to himself uncontrollably. So suddenly you stop and try to act smooth but instead just look like a drunk trying not to fall flat on your face. By the time you reach the curb you feel the heat of this guy’s irritation on your neck and as you turn back to wave you see that his true attention was directed to the bombshell brunette who was waiting behind you and just witnessed your awesome little hustle across the street. She smiles nervously as she passes you by, trying hard to avoid eye contact.

There are those few real dicks out there though that just walk out in front of you without even looking. No matter how short of notice, almost as if they stood aside the road timing the best opportunity to jeopardize the lives of as many as possible. Typically it’s some female kamikaze shopper, looking as if she’s on her fourth or fifth mid-life crisis and closely resembles a blond, spray on tanned version of Morticia from Adam’s Family. They walk like a machine straight out of Terminator as they slowly cross not giving a shit about the fact that you have a car full of screaming children trying to tear out your eyeballs so they can better reach your brain.

It gets really creepy though when you’re to the point you think you’re going to scream the old coot turns and looks at you like the alien from Signs as she reads your mind via the chemical reaction of her Botox and plastic surgery.

—–

“Bearing the Truth”

The following is a confession of my youth. We’ve all done some weird, gross or emberassing things when we were younger. Don’t deny it! You were caught playing with your Willie in the back of Toys’R’Us. You know who you are…

Well anyway this is one of those stories, but until recently I’d never been caught. It was one of those silly things I did when I was about seven or eight, no older than twenty three. We lived in a nice house back in the woods of New Florence, Pennsylvania. I’m out running around the woods, as young ones do, soul searching for my true calling as a lumberjack. No seriously, I wanted to be a lumberjack. Anyway. All the sudden amidst the swings of my mighty stick-axe I received another type of calling.

I don’t know how comfortable other people are with the wilderness but for me, I was as good as in my own home. So I made the short trip to my personal bathroom, conveniently located between our rabbit cages and the above ground swimming pool. Once there, the three rabbits we had bore witness to a legend being born, or rather squeezed from my scrawny eight year old behind.

Now that was a little funny and certainly gross but only a mere detail in the fleshy, plump, rump of my story. Details that only I knew for the longest time. My parents on the other hand had somehow stumbled onto my young gift to the world. Soon thereafter they had become convinced that a bear had taken interest in our rabbits to such a high degree that it had left them a gift to remember it by.

My parents, proud owners of their bear gift, told everyone who came to visit about the bear that left deposits near the home. I’d always suspected that perhaps they knew the truth, but every time I’d enter a room to them telling a new crowd the great bear story with smiles on their faces and fantasy captured eyes I’d turn red from embarrassment. In the full five to six years we lived in the area I’d never seen or heard of a bear being even close to our little area and every time the story was told and the audience would slowly turn and look into my direction I couldn’t help but thinking…

“Oh yea, They know.”

—–

Every space is filled with energy that is charged with the specific vibration of the matter that occupies it. All around my body the cold air presses against the warmth of my skin. I fight it off with my will to not freeze as I lay upon the cold stone ground beneath me. The sprinkler system sends hundreds of droplets of water crashing through the tightly bound atoms of air only to flatten upon the first surface too stubborn to let it by. The sounds penetrate even the thickest of walls, leaving two foot thick structures of concrete to tremble in its uncanny ability to continue motion. Cars pass by hardly holding on to the earth beneath their air inflated feet as they pray for friction to hold them back from flying forward into oblivion. Yellow light casts over me; searching for something to hold it tightly and make its presence noticed. You’re there breathing ever so softly as your motions are carefully noted and responded to by the world around you. A million and one unseen eyes blanket you with their observation, preserving your existence in a non-existent consciousness.  The smell of dirt, smoke, water and plant life bring an aroma of inevitable end so close to my mind I can already feel it. The ink glides so cleanly onto the paper like a hand across silk yet holds tighter than any simple amount of pressure could ever appreciate. Silence suddenly breaks life in half with nothing but the whisper of crickets in the air to remind you that you’re among the living. I can see myself unsettling as I concern myself with timing and aim. Images bound in the air, invisible to all but me begin to tear everything apart. All I’ve got left is myself and this notebook. Suddenly the world is so plain and isolated I know that I’m alien to it all. Traffic, air, crickets, you, me… none of it is really there anymore.

—–

“A wave came crashing like a fist to the jaw. Delivered him wings said, ‘Look at me now’. Arms wide open with the sea at his floor, ‘Oh power. Oh!’” – Pearl Jam

—–

Black (That which is made of all color but considered to be in absence)

In the existence of another
There is no creation
Only evolution
In the absence of existence
There is only creation
Therefore can there never be evolution

—–

“Magic for me. Magic get me through. With Magic Money. People seem to walk through you. Magic is funny. Magic get me through. Ok for me. When people seem to always walk through you” – Gorillaz

—–

I’ve stared back into the black eyes of society many times
Always searching for some sign of honorable and dignified life
Beyond the parasites that feed on the innocently blind; I’ve seen nothing
Wishing there could be some break in the walls of this misguided truth

You know something?
Artificial Intelligence was created long ago
A government conspiracy
A society of machines created to do their slave work
Think of the possibilities!

Programmed to think as they are conditioned to
To feel, act, react and do as they are told
Only knowing the truth fed to them each day by their programmers

Oh the joy that could be had with such a thing as Artificial Intelligence

—–

I find myself sick sometimes. (In bold scribbled text) Not coughing in the wind sick, but rather in the head for things I simply do in spite. To save myself the un-wanted aggravation of saying ‘fuck you’ I simply stop caring. Quite noticeably I do so. But still I stay… how sick.

—–

You parade me around
Like a puppet I play along with your gimmicks
Every part of me itching with irritation
Without question I receive your beckoning call
At this moment I’ve decided I truly hate you
For making me feel the way I do
Still I am here
Afraid to be apart
I survive on you
I breathe your poison
Each moment losing my life a little more
Without reason to me, I give in
I have a change of heart
I let you have your way
Again.

—–

You enter a room
A stranger to everyone around you
Nobody knows you
You don’t know anyone else
Fresh meat.
You’re all they can think about
Dwelling on the thoughts of getting the best of you
The first one makes his move
You’re face-to-face with the rest of your life
Look him in the eyes
Don’t let him doubt your sincerity
Throw your fists into his face
Enjoy this split second of victory
Feel his skin under yours
Pressing it to the point that It breaks
No longer capable of containing the blood beneath
Pull back and stare him down again
Don’t let them put the fear into you
Even if they kick the life from you again
You’ve proven you’re willing to stand on your own
Welcome home, son.

—–

I’m not what you think I am
I am what you do not think I could be
I don’t what you think I will
I will what you think I won’t

I’ve never made things easy
Easy is not how things were for me
I’ve done what I’ve always felt right
Right is not how the things I do are done

I’ve played the victim to find self-pity
Self-pity played me for a victim
I’ve lead weaker hearts to death
To death is where weakness leads me

I feel no remorse for my own pain
My pain is remorseless to me
I don’t wish to be taken alive
Alive is never going to be the way for me
Not only do I live this way to my death
To my death I will live each day

—–

Because I try
You think I am weak

Because I don’t give up
You think I don’t know when to walk away

Because I didn’t run and hide
You think I gave in to the other side

Because I faced the truth
You think that I have lied

Because I got tired of your winless game
You think I didn’t even try to play

—–

“You have to be a little crazy, otherwise your just another mind in line”

—–

If I were normal I’d be fated
If I were strange I’d be hated
If I followed suit I’d have no choice
If I stand alone I have to justify myself
I am here because I have been giving this life to live
I walk a different path because I was given the legs to do so
I stand on a different level because I dared to ask if I could
I see a better world because I have the eyes to do so
I know a better me because it is I who chose to

—–

Stare. Past
Think. Above
Understand. Nothing
Question. Always
Simply. Be

—–

I stand among a million others
Still I see no one
I walk within a thousand miles
Yet I’ve gone nowhere
I live between a hundred homes
But here I live without

What world is this
That I hold beyond my eyes
Seen not by others
A place, that is mine
Known not by society
I hold this place inside

I am a hostage
A guest
Myself
The rest

Without identity
Without self
Forget what you could
Remember what you couldn’t
Know not what you should
Embrace what you shouldn’t

—–

Already I’m burning so hot and intensely I can feel my temper taking control. Don’t even look at me. You know the game you’ve played. I couldn’t even skim the surface without egging onto the brim of jealousy and need for revenge. I could ask a million and one favoring questions with no result. I am a fool for giving as much as I do. Knowing it would never be returned.

—–

“Killer Poolman”

Paranoia is something many of you can relate to, right? I know what you’re thinking but I’m not crazy, I have premise to my convictions. You see back in my younger years, about 75 years ago when I was 21 to be exact I had a wilder look about myself. Shattered neon colored hair, tight ‘fashion-core’ apparel and an excessive number of unnecessary holes that served no purpose other than further ensuring my inability to stay afloat. During said time I worked as a pool technician, you’re impressed I know. It was really just the nicest way I could say that I had a short run as a pool boy, we’ll leave my qualifications as such for another discussion. My routine diet at the time was a dollar burger from McDonalds and water, a very strict regime of careful planning for a fit body such as my own.

As my fellow pool technician and I were en-route for our next pool I took a passionate swig of my water.  In my first gulp I felt the distinct sensation of something solid colliding with the back of my throat just in time for me to swallow it down. This immediately brought me to alarm as I looked at my water bottle and inspected its contents like some sort of super sleuth. Nothing appeared out of place except for the fact that my accomplice had suddenly disappeared to begin ‘working’ the next pool. I began to keep a close eye on him, knowing it was impossible for something to have just climbed into my water bottle. I observed is behavior as he too began to curiously watch me from a safe distance. At this moment I knew for a fact, beyond the shadow of doubt that he had slipped something into my drink to poison me! He feared my uncanny skills as the future pool technician of the year (there is no such title, I checked) thus removing him from the running! Worse than that, now he knew that I knew!

I could see his jealousy pouring from his feeble smile as he uneasily looked at me, obviously curious about why the poison had not yet taken effect. He clearly under estimated the godliness that was me being and did not count on my amazing immune system! Suddenly my wildly evolving mass of complete and utter bullshit came crashing down on me as would a child to a small ant on the sidewalk. So caught up in my self-aggrandizing conviction that it wasn’t until my tongue pressed against my lower lip to reveal I was missing my lip ring did everything come to light. In instant replay the events leading up until now played back in my head as I, embarrassed and now feeling slightly sick to my stomach hobbled back to the truck to sit down.

—–

“Rodney in the Field of Danger” – Reference to the time an old friend Lindsay and I removed the head from a Rodney Dangerfield doll at the store we worked at, taped it back on with clear boxing tape, put it back in the box and sold it later that night. What can I say…it was annoying hearing the same ‘No Respect’ jokes all day long and it was out little way of saying ‘eff you!’

—–

“A Century of Yellow Spongy Disappointment” – Reference to how annoyed I was to find being a millennium generation we received no hover cars, glass houses or interplanetary travel. Nope. We got Spongebob Square-pain-in-the-ass.

—–

“I don’t identify myself as Jim, James or Jimmy”

—–

“A word of wisdom for all who dare enter… Never close your eyes”

—–

“Baby Bouncing for Fun” — … I really don’t know.

—–

“03-06-05”

Last night in my dream I recall hearing the originals of a lot of Black Flag/Rollins Band songs I liked. Shortly after Sarah and I were sitting outside on office when I sa Henry Rollins enter and begin opening up for business. Sarah talked me through my fear and convinced me to go talk to him. I fumbled around the office looking at things before I gathered the courage to speak with him. He was a lot shorter and smaller than I expected and he wasn’t nearly as unapproachable as I’ve heard. In fact he gave me a hug and wished me the best in life, assuring me it would all be ok.

…some garbage about dad and denise…

—–

(Drawing of Easter Bunny drunk and offering kids beer)

—–

“The viscous beast known as life makes me desperately reach for the edges of sanity while time hangs over my head laughing at my futile attempts to beat it”

—–

So this is where I can escape. Everything outside of my mind, this pen and paper, is too overpopulated with people who don’t really want to know. If they did why would they continually give you orders of which you should follow to lead a happy life? Everyone is different and has different needs. If that weren’t true then it would have been long ago discovered what we all unanimously need to be happy. I know once. What I needed. So I thought. But I think time, money, opinions and objects made a large attempt at obfuscating my ability to think for myself. Maybe I should just play along with everyone else’s ideals for a while. Or maybe I should just change my concept of happy altogether.

I think about my mom a lot when I’m at the beach. My father is seldom included in my personal thoughts, probably because other than maybe one or two times I can’t recall many that involved my father. Of what I can remember of him he was either working or asleep. I think when he built my go-cart of one of my dirt bikes are probably the only times we ever really interacted. I remember him making a strong effort to spend ‘fun’ time with me before he left to move down here to Florida. As if until that time he completely forgot that I even existed. I know he loved me and many times he was drawn to blood and sweat to give me what he could. I think he was just too scared to screw up with me to try and fix anything he (in later years) admitted he objected to in my raising.

…. unreadable

—–

Standing in my bedroom
I’m turning into dust
Pulled away by the wind
My mind remains lost
Why are you running away?
Is it something I said?

—–

“July 10^th 2005”

Lying in bed far from anything I know. I am alone. Some eight hundred plus miles from everything I’ve called familiar and home. I’ve only got a car that is far from reliable, depleting my desire to fight, to keep hold of the one bit of my life that I came here to preserve. The silence breaks me and keeps me so low that I cannot see the surface. I want to run away with nowhere to run to. I long to be held and loved, while all loving arms are occupied by that which better serves them. This is a sacrifice I thought I was prepared to make. However I wasn’t planning to make it alone. Some parts of me feel I should have fought to make it back to Florida to leave myself stranded a day plus away from help, rather than return here overnight where I’d be stranded for weeks or possibly even more. I wait for my hope and dreams to be re-kindled by a voice that itself is searching for its place. Oh what I would do to bring back that feeling of happiness, love and contentment that I once looked so deeply into each night. I’m praying for a miracle with no god to pray to, asking for a blessing to my life of defiance. Please I beg of ‘you’… just bring her back to me.

—–

“What does anger do to little children? It turns them into societies rejects”

—–

So I wouldn’t be a liar to say I don’t understand
Or that I’m sick of trying to for that matter
I have no place between these walls
I belong with the rest of the tired and dead
Laying atop the motionless earth
It’s not so bad here anymore

—–

Disease is to fire as paralysis is to ice
Silence is to wind as petrification is to earth
Stun is to lightning as poison is to water
Charm = light
Blind, curse, sleep = Dark
Find out what beastman’s seal is
Mirokishu
(I know what this is in reference to but I’m not telling )

—–

“My myth is frozen in time by your stare”

—–

(Hand drawn figure of 3 lines (two arched above and below one horizontal straight) with a series of small dots on them. Arrows point to the diagram ‘Energized space over time’. .. ‘empty space over time’…’particles in motion’…’vibrations in dimension allowing multiple levels of existence’)

Particles don’t disappear they ‘vibrate’ through time/space to energize the different dimensions of existence. They can be in multiple places at once because of this vibration.

If you start at X then the universal probability of time-space direction branches as follows.

(Another loose diagram)

As time moves forward space never changes. Just the energy currently occupying space during that time does. So if time were space specific then wouldn’t every ‘particle’ of space contain its own concept of time? (Relativity…give me a break I was 15 and high) Does time exist in space that lacks energy?

So it’s been one week since my original post in regards to my intentions to alternate my sleeping pattern. At the time I’d only been going on my second day and I had actually intended on putting more time into preparing before I began. However when I overshot a nap by about 5 hours I just decided to dive in. Which is exactly why I hate naps, they either have to be extremely brief, say 20 minutes or they have to really last. Otherwise I really feel no effect from them and in result just come out of it even more tired than when I began.

So lets begin with my perceptions from the week so far…

• Socializing has taken the obvious plummet from it’s current near dead status to being fossilized and put on display in a museum. I’ve never been the most actively social person and while I joke that I am quite the elitist, in heart I am just really preoccupied with my own thoughts or engagements to consider it. Some would call me an inconsiderate or selfish person. In ways you may be right but I think anyone that knows me would agree that unless I’m put off by something you have done I will nearly bend over backwards to a direct request. That’s for another experiment though.. lets move on.
• The body is more resilient on an empty stomach. I have read an article on this and I took it to practice in the latter parts of the week. My current work schedule has me going to lunch mid-workday at 10:00 AM Eastern. This is pretty early for most but getting up somewhere between 4:30-5 AM Eastern I am by this time typically pretty hungry. (If only there was something other than nasty fast food places open at this hour) So I will eat my meal at 10:00 and not eat again until after I sleep. This does two things, firstly it permits about 12 hours between the meals making it easier for my body to adjust to the new hours. It also reduces my general need to constantly consume otherwise useless junk. I feel my appetite is more in balance with what I would expect of someone of my size, when one month ago I’d be perfectly fine eating all day if I had food available.
• I am more energized during the day, especially mentally. Before I get into my current hour metrics allow me to clarify that I have yet to have completed an entire night without sleep. This is in part by choice as E. gets home (and thus to sleep) later and gets up when I do, so she requires additional rest. I typically spend my last two hours before I must get ready for work reading in bed beside her and usually doze off. It is very apparent however that I am more alert throughout the duration of my waking hours both at night and at work. My body rarely feels the fatigue that it did almost daily before this experiment. Short of when there is some social event on a particular evening, I have as much sleep as my body decides I need each day. I still like to stretch as any good-feeling creature does and I yawn when I rise or spend too much time sitting at a mundane task but not out of exhaustion.
• With the mental energy has come some very vivid dreams and experiences. Again it is a personal hobby of mine to passively work with meditation, lucid dreaming, OOBE’s and the sort. As a constant interest of mine I personally feel very sensitive to certain behaviors in my body that are instant signs of some sort of activity. Both myself and E. have experienced very detailed, vibrant dreams seemingly daily, let alone every time we fall asleep. I have yet to start keeping a journal like I used to, in part due to the sensitivity of my transition and in other out of sheer procrastination. Of greater personal interest I actually felt the vibrations commonly associated with projection last time I slept.

While the first two days and three nights were questionably discouraging, by Saturday I feel I’d near fully acclimated to the new schedule and truly began to enjoy the lesser amounts of pressure I felt with my time. At the risk of better experiment results I returned to a normal sleeping pattern for Sunday only (which I later realized I could have probably worked with) since E. has a particular schedule every other Sunday. Fortunately now Tuesday morning I am back in rhythm only mildly feeling the effects of missing a full daytime sleep.

I hope that once I have become fully adjusted to this new schedule that I will be able to sleep at a relatively flexible schedule and bounce back the next day with little effect.

Current schedule:

(Every day I began sleeping @ 4:00 PM Eastern)

Monday 5/11: 8:40 PM Eastern
Tuseday 5/12:  9:00 PM Eastern
Wednesday 5/13: 10:30 PM Eastern
Thursday 5/14:  11:11 PM Eastern
Friday 5/15:  11:20 PM Eastern
Saturday 5/16: 10:30 PM Eastern
Sunday 5/17:  (slept ‘normal hours’ 9:30 PM-4:45 PM)
Monday 5/18:  7:00 PM Eastern