It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch

The wind curls your pants around your legs as you stand in the gray evening. You stare up at the sky and your world is gray. Tiny spots of white come down at you from that depthless mist, some taken by the wind, others falling. Your world becomes white, free. You are floating now, taken by the wind as the will of the world flies you where it wants to.
Out across the sea you go, and over the mountains high. You’re falling and soaring at the same time; expanding. The lights of life below call to you, become one with you. As you stretch, you feel yourself connecting with it all, with everything.
The train whistle interrupts you as it thunders by, not caring who you are or where you were. Its black bulk rushes past and now your world is black. Darkness turns you in on yourself and you contract. Inward you go, towards your memories, your past. It squeezes in on you, crushing. Smaller and smaller you get as you feel the weight of all the sadness, all the heartbreak you’ve had push at you.
And when you’ve become the smallest you’ll ever be, smaller than you’ve ever been, the pain stops. The color changes. Your memories are still there, but seen through better glass, through windows unblackened. Not all happy, but more happy than not. Small amounts of joy outweigh great amounts of greif. Peace comes to you.
Night has fallen now, and the streetlight shines yellow through the gloom. The train is gone, the wind is dying. You are neither sad, nor completely happy. Nothing is perfect, peace is fleeting. But, in this moment it is on you. Neither black, nor completely white.
Your world is gray.

If I would, could you?

Change, that is. It's a measure of our imperfection as people how much we want others be what we want them to be. As well is it a measure of our humanity when we learn to accept others as they are.
This is an apology to those of you I've wronged by expecting things from you that it wasn't in you to give. It's a humbling moment when you realize what a selfish ass you can be when things don't go as you want them to. Emotions can override logic quite easily, especially after a few (or not so few) drinks.
The dynamics of our relations with other people can be as complex or simple as we make them. The trick is finding the balance. The problem is finding the balance. It's easier to dispassionately sit back and analyze social patterns than to apply learned tactics in your own life. It's those pesky emotions again.
So do we change to fit others desires, to make them happy? Do this too much, and you are a doormat. I'm a good example. Or do we expect others to change to fit our desires, to make us happy? Do this and you're an ass. Again, I'm a good example.
It's both, really. We can't expect to live and interact with others and not need to bend to appease them, or need them to bend to appease us. It's never perfect, as we are never perfect. But it's necessary if you want to achieve some small modicum of happiness and peace in this chaotic world.
The only other option would be to excise yourself completely from others and live as a hermit and expect nothing from anyone else and need to change only to suit yourself. A very lonely way to be.
So, again I'm sorry to those of you from whom I've expected to much to serve my needs. And I'm sorry also for the self piteous whining I've made all of you suffer through lately, it's quite embarrassing really.
I'll try to change.
Will you?

Maybe I'm crazy, but laughing out loud makes the pain pass by

So. The gray outside mirrors the gray inside. Asked if I'm mad, my conditioned kneejerk says no. But I am. Dwelling makes the anger rise, so I try not to.
The wind blows and the sip's savor is bitter--neither a good year nor vintage. But it's what I have so I use it. The clouds it creates in my head are not unlike the clouds blown by outside--confused in direction; stretched thin to different compass points not of their desired destination.
How did this hurt me so deep?
How come I let it?
I know how. My yearning made me.
Empty for so long, a soul can attach hope to that which is doomed, blinding itself to the inevitable. This is not the first time, nor am I innocent. Still, I feel played.
So. I'm trying to laugh. In hopes that the pain will pass by.
Funny how we can create conditions in ourselves to quell our own nature. Humor is hard to find in the dark. So much to make me happy just out of sight and my flashlight has dead batteries.
I have hope. Hope that after I let the fields of my heart go to fallow, I can return in some years and turn the soil. Maybe then I can find a seed to take root, to grow. Maybe then it will be a place of comfort, of peace.
This makes me smile. Laugh. I hope it makes you smile too. And maybe, you're a little crazy and laughing out loud makes it all alright.

And the worms ate into his brain

The wall was too high, as you can see. And I keep building it higher. Of course mama's gonna help me, but she's no longer here to keep me cozy and warm. And hopefully I don't get sued for this paraphrazation.
Well, so much for keeping things in a happy vein. I used to be happy all of the time. In fact, that was one of my many nicknames when I was younger. I miss those times.
A good friend of mine advised me to blog about my life and what I've been going through, and I've been trying. I've also been trying to keep things lighter, more "happy," with mixed results. There have been times when I'm just down and need to let things out before the darkness consumes me. I'll refrain from apologizing for this as I've been told I do that too much.
You may have noticed that I've made a pattern lately of titling my posts with lyrics. As many of you know, music is hugely important to me and I find that as I analyze myself, I tend to relate my life and experiences to music that I love. And as they say, write what you know. Not that I know a whole lot, especially when it comes to the inner workings of my mind . . . not much to know there.
So, on to the title of this post. The worms are there, munching contentedly. I wonder if they're doing damage, or maybe repairing things. Maybe they are like silk worms and their excrement will be more valuable than their food. I dunno. It's possible. Why is this making me hungry? Why do I now want to play badmitten? Who is that person standing in the corner with the white coat on? How much is that doggy in the window?
Ok, enough confusion for those of you lucky enough not to be stuck inside my head. It's a very strange and weird prison here. I'm just waiting in this cell because I have to know. Have I been guilty all this time?

The seasons roll on by

Just wanted to wish a happy first day of spring to all. Nothing like an equinox to even things out. Kinda like lithium for Mother Nature.
A new season is upon us, so bust out your crack pipes and rejoice! Uh, well . . . maybe not that . . . . just yet. But, have a nice spot of tea or something. Relax. Do something nice for someone. Do something nice for yourself. Just make sure you do it in private. Indecent exposure is a class C felony in some states.
Given the state of my recent posts, most of you are probably thinking that I should follow my own advice here. And to that I say: PLLLBBBBBBTTTT!!!! Piss on that! I created my own hell and I’ll wallow in my self-sustaining misery as long as I want to! Why the hell do you think I created it in the first place? Do you think I enjoy this? You always think you can do these things, but you just can’t Nemo! Wait, that was someone else. No matter.
Anyways, lets move on shall we? A nice little happy journey into the future where everything will be happy and peachy and cute little bunnies will bring you your pipe and slippers and catepillars will nuzzle your nose. The free world will be led by a black man or a white woman and wars will end and cars will get another mile per gallon! I predict that the days will even get longer for the next few months. Until the later part of june even.
I know, it’s hard to believe in a happy place like that, but you gotta try if there is to be any hope at all. Consider the alternative ---- we could have nothing but non-stop reality shows on tv and Paris Hilton on the radio! Ewwww!
Ok, what I mean is . . . have a nice spring.

Love is an act of blood and I'm bleeding

As wind will blow cold through a rocky gorge, slowly carving deeper, so does the memory of what once was, the pain of loss widen the empty chambers of the soul. Regret and longing can stretch you while you shrink and shrivel against the onslaught of reality. Resolve is cracked by self pity as the daily flames of hope are sparked, fanned and quenched when what is wished for never comes.
Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe the strength to move on will finally come. Letting go is never easy, rather a long and painful process more readily dealt with by better men than me.
Yes, I’m feeling sorry for myself and I apologize for exposing my weakness in this forum for you few faithful readers to share. My state of mind is such that I could have easily been talking of myself in my previous post. Perhaps I was.
In writing this, I’m hoping for catharsis, or, better yet, absolution from my inner demons. What I really want is the void in my chest to be filled, the empty vacuum that I feel in my solar plexus to be still and quiet. I know, wah, freaking wah.
I’m sorry.
Love is an act of blood and I’m bleeding. A pool in the shape of a heart.

The lunatic is on the grass

Those of you who have spent any time with me may have heard me refer to myself as crazy, insane, unstable or something along those lines. These remarks are usually an attempt at humor, though sometimes I fancy that I am a little off my rocker. I know I am a tad bit different than most people in my mannerisms and social inclinations and behaviors. I accept, even embrace that. I was sometimes labeled "weird" by the "normal" people in high school, to my great relief. The problem with normal people is that they’re normal.
Anyways, let me get to my point, and yes, I actually have one this time! Yippie! My point is, that you can go around joking about and even sometimes questioning your own sanity, and then you come across someone (sometimes forcefully) who makes you think "Holy Shit! This person has NO grasp on reality and I’m the sanest person ever!" This can be comforting and unsettling at the same time. While it is nice to be reminded that you’re not bonkers, sometimes it doesn’t feel good to think that you’re normal. If you’re anything like me, at least. Please see above italicised statement at end of paragraph one.
So now you’re probably all wondering who I’m talking about. What person(s) could have inspired me to write this? And could it possibly be you? Don’t worry, I’m not going to reveal my muse for this particular piece as that would be, as they say, crazy. But, in my book, anyone who would actually read this because they know me or know of me is most likely certifiable.
I’m just wondering about people and what goes on in their heads that makes them blind to the reality that most people live and breathe. Believe me, I like to get away from that reality as much as I can, but not to the point that I am blatantly oblivious to what others are trying to tell me. I get rather frustrated when trying to explain something to someone that they refuse to see because they have already made up their mind about what they want to believe as it suits their idea of how they want to feel about someone or something.
I dunno, maybe I’m losing my point again, suprise, suprise. I do that frequently, you’ll notice. What I’m really saying is that I’m tired of irrational people causing drama for no good reason other than that they themselves are unhappy and want to cause the same discontent for others. Can’t we all just get along?

So you thought you might like to go to the show

Well, I've got some bad news for you, sunshine. This is nothing more than a meandering expulsion of my illogical thought process. Feel free to walk out now; your ticket fee will be refunded at the door. I was just thinking about how much we need to entertain ourselves with stories and movies and songs. Most of which are about people we'll never meet or act remotely like. Yet we strive to connect ourselves with them, to liken ourselves unto the heroes of our fictitious pass times. I do, at least, it's much like . . . (wait for it!) . . . daydreaming!
Well, I've beaten that dead horse already. I find it interesting, though, how we get caught up in the drama of stories well told. I'm sure there's a super good explanation for this, and if I were a professor of the humanities, I'd be able to rattle it right off. But, as it's been well over half a decade since I had that class, I'm in the dark. Somewhat.
I think it has something to do with wishing for truth and passion in our own lives to rival that which we find in story and song. Truth and passion to lend vibrance and meaning to our existence, to make our everyday struggles and suffering more worthwhile. Therefore, we distract ourselves with these things, living vicariously through our favorite characters. And I'm definately not speaking about those of you who waste your time supporting america's obsession with reality tv. You sick, perverted people make me weep for society!
So, go out and find a beautiful book, song, or movie. Enjoy it! Relate it to your life and live fuller. Get drunk!
I do not envy you the headache you will have when you wake, but in the meantime, sleep well and dream of large women.

What would you do if I sang out of tune? (daydreaming part 2)

Well, I already know. Those of you who have heard me sing know that I do sing out of tune, at least some of the time. And you listen anyways. I appreciate that. I suppose it's flaws that make us human. Or maybe it's accepting those flaws, in one's self and in others, that makes us more human. This particular flaw of mine bothers me. As I have mentioned before, I'm a daydreamer of immense proportions. One of my favorite recurring daydreams is that of singing, and I get frustrated that I'm not naturally better than I am. Oh, well. I'm not whining to Oprah. Yet.
Some of you would undoubtedly tell me to practice and overcome my painfully off-key tendancies. I agree with that and I do try. Unfortunately, one of my other (many) flaws is a marked lack of disciplined self-motivation.
Let me pose another query. What would you do if I sang in tune? Or, rather: What would I do if I sang in tune? It's something I wonder about in my travels through my mind (that's a short journey). Would I be as happy as I dream about if all my pipe dreams were suddenly fulfilled? And the rational, logical answer is no, I really don't think I would. That's one of the defining charactaristics of our flawed mortal existance. We are never truly happy and content. We spend our time dreaming and wishing of what might be, thinking that if certain things were certain ways then we would be at peace with everything and life would be well. Cookies and kool-aid for everyone! But, things don't work that way for us. If we were ever to have all of our dreams come true, we'd get bored with them in a horribly short while and would rapidly be dreaming of new things.
This all is how it should be, as shitty as it seems, and rather than go on in another redundant diatribe, I'll let you figure that one out. My aformetioned lack of motivation is kicking in quite nicely now and I think I'll go do something less productive with my time. Like contemplating the current political mood of the country.
Cheers!

Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn?

I often daydream. It's a problem I have, really. I do it too much. It's my safe, happy place. I suppose we all do it, but I've turned it into a defense mechanisim. And somewhat of a crutch. See, rather than actually working on the problems in my life, I daydream about how it would be if they all went away. This usually involves winning the lottery or something similar that would enable me to do what I want, when I want. I'm smart enough to know that gobs of money wont solve my problems or really bring me what I want.
I really don't know where I'm going with this, it just feels good to write. The last several months have been pretty hard for me and I've internalized a great deal. Well on my way to becoming an all inclusive society with the voices in my head, not needing external sources of company. That's really just another daydream.
I wish I could fix everything. Some things I know I can, and some I know I can't. I know, you're thinking I should quit whining, suck it up, and hit the bottle or something. Sounds good. 'Cept the sucking it up part.
Anyways, this all really had no point. Sorry to waste your time. I'm good at wasting my own, so I thought I'd branch out.