Damn... life.

Life has been on a crazy train wreck of a course here lately.  I spend more time keeping myself staight at the moment some other things had to go to the back burner for a minute.  I've been writing, using an awesome amount of energy.  Its been fantastic.  I just haven't been doing it here.  It's all good, I've been doing what I've got to do.

I've got this shaking of my leg that started since i been off the vicodin, and it won't go away.  I'm not feeling nervous or anxietous at all, i just catch myself shaking it.  I never did that before, i was a pretty steady dude.  It's there now, for who knows how long, as a reminder.  My  already shaky marriage is more unstable than before, the house of cards is crumbling.  I've fully accepted where it's going and am proceeding with what I've got to do.  Its only been a couple weeks but things are getting worse, not better.  Those conditions aren't healthy for anyonw, so i have to remove myself from the situation.  I love my wife but I've fallen out of love, i am afraid.  We've been together a long time and this isn't easy.  I just have absolutely no desire in me to work things out, i can't change it if i want to.  I have some grieving to do myself even though people don't get it.

It's all good.  Life is a trip sometimes.  I've got awesome kids whose time i cherish, really.  That won't ever change.  They are basically my main concern, and when we're together just me and them, it's all good.  That's what i want.    I've had some wild twists and turns here laty, and while its been painful, its been enjoyable.  People have noticed a difference in me.  I've noticed the difference.  I wonder what's next.

Life Is A Game Of Chess

Chess is a game of patience and when the boy (Isaac) asked me to teach him how to play I was proud.  Mind you, I'm not any good at it, but I think it's a really cool game.  I remember when I learned to play, it was one of the few things somebody ever sat down to teach me.  He was a really nice guy, an older gentlemen, a great friend of my mothers named Jack.  He also taught me how to shoot a b.b. gun and would sit and talk to me about a lot of things.  We would talk about God and as I got older, conspiracy theories and what have you.  He was probably the only father like figure I ever had in my life.  I wasn't even related to him and the man would do anything for me. 

Jack was a retired electrician who liked to buy and sell at flea markets to make some extra cash.  I never told him but I think he just liked collecting junk.  He would sometimes take me with him and teach me how to wheel and deal, those were great times.  As I got older, and got into more serious trouble, he would try to talk some sense into me but he never would judge.  He had always given me the respect and attention a kid deserves.  I think I was 18 when he got pneumonia, and because he was a heavy smoker he had major complications.  I would go up to the hospital and bring him a Dunkin Donuts coffee and do anything else he needed.  He took a turn for the worse and I think he even flat lined once.  Somehow he pulled through and a few weeks later he went home. 

I went over there daily because he couldn't walk to use the bathroom or to get something to eat or drink.  I emptied his bed pan for him multiple times a day and I could see the appreciation in his eyes.  He didn't have to say a word.  He did, however, tell me that dumping his shit in the toilet was probably the last lesson he was going to teach me.  And it was, in a direct sense anyway.  I can still learn things by looking back.  He was teaching me about humility and how valuable it was.  Telling him no, I wouldn't do it, wasn't even a thought.  After all he had done for me it was the least I could do.

It wasn't too much longer before I left for basic training and I didn't get a chance to see him before I left, but I did talk to him.  He told me he was proud of me and I knew he meant it.  About 4 weeks in to basic training I called my sister and she told me Jack had died, but my mother didn't want to tell me.  I was angry with myself for not making the time to see him once before I left.  But I was grateful his suffering was over.  My thoughts about his life and what he taught me pushed me even harder to get through this tough time.  And I did.

I'm kind of ashamed of myself.  I haven't thought about Jack in a very long time.  This story was going to be about the boy and I playing chess until it dawned on me how I learned, and then it took a completely different turn, and this is what we have.  In a way I feel like I'm honoring him by taking the time to teach my son what Jack taught me because my father never would.  I think this is the best way I could repay him. 

With that, my tears want to flow, but not now.  I'll make time for it later.

Time

I can feel the tired beginning to settle in on my head.  It's late and I can't sleep, I've got a lot of things on my mind.  Why does it seem like timing is always wrong?  Things and people walk into our lives, but to me it appears as if it's always the wrong time.  I'm not necessarily waiting for something specific, and I do realize that sometimes we have to actively seek what we want, but time is  never on my side.  Maybe it's just me and I'm looking at it all wrong, its been known to happen. (shh, don't tell anyone I said that.)  All in all, I have to be able to laugh at the irony which is my life for fear that if I don't I'd no longer walk that fine line.  The line that separates sanity and being unstable.  I've never actually walked on one side or the other, always the middle waiting for a shoe to drop.  But it never does.  Somehow I manage to stay the path even at times it seems I'm on anything but a path.  I don't stray far, it's always nearby.

Yea, it's Hootie and the Blowfish....I'm a product of the 90's.

CoffeeTIME

Times change, just as time changes all things.  Right when you think you've got it figured out, the script flips.  I can hear a clock ticking in this silent space I'm in, resting my brain from the day.  It's rather calming as my heart rhythm catches up to the hands of time.  I haven't yet had my afternoon cup of coffee, it's brewing as the aromas fill the gap between thoughts.  The quiet will break soon when the beautiful Gwendolyn gets home, I'm preparing myself.  All that energy, the kid loves to clown around.  It's her nature.  Explaining to her that it's ok to goof as long as we don't get carried away is difficult.  I think she understands the calm, serious voice more than she knows what I'm saying.  She abides oh so temporarily, but it brings a joy even I can't describe.  Isaac and I just had a talk about staying positive but I know he only listened intently because he wanted his game privileges back.  It's ok, I understand, and I'll keep telling him so that maybe one day it will sink in when he most needs it.  It's all rather perfect.  I don't know what more I could ask for in a couple of children.  Absolutely nothing, I'm lucky.

I paused to take a shower and let the thought parade creep in, to see what rises to the surface.  A friend said the other day that I've found my voice in writing, and she's absolutely right.  I see a direction in which to go in, and show Him what I'm supposed to do.  I have a quote of his I found scribbled in one of my notebooks, it stays in my pocket as a reminder.  I'll be more. 

I'm growing a little impatient waiting for spring, the cold is really testing me.  I want to walk in the green grass and listen to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees.  Early spring mornings have a plus side to them, the birds singing to the sun as it rises.  When I walk outside those days, and I'm all alone, I feel I'm where I ought to be at that moment.  I dreamt of spring last night as if it were saying it's on its way.  And I believe.

Damn...

I think that coffee is ready.

The Art Of Conversation

I get to enjoy my morning cup of coffee in silence today, and it's greatly appreciated.  Normally there are 6 or 7 people piled into my office, talking.  It's what I do.  I'd imagine I'm keeping this art form alive, they tell me that my crew here is the only one that does that, every day.  I have to admit, it makes me smile inside.  Whether we're having a conversation about God or we're just clowning around, it's always interesting.  You see, the old timers had more of a brotherly atmosphere, an actual union.  They stood in the cold together for months on strike, there's a bond.  I got to see the tail end of that, there were a few left when I started.  So, I carry on what should have been left behind.  I miss some of them old guys. There is always a pot of coffee on here.

I find that I am walking a little slower these days, perhaps I feel less of a rush behind me.  I tend to tune that out anymore and its a good skill to have.  I just move along at my own pace along people if they care to join me.  Unfortunately not many do.  People are sometimes way too caught up in everything going on around them, so much so that they can't even stop to have a conversation with someone.  I actually enjoy talking to people these days.  It wasn't always that way.  I don't mind being stopped by someone in a grocery store because they have a question, it's good for me.  It gets me out of my head if only for a moment. 

Conversation is truly an art form.  It requires just the right amount of give and take and the right questions and answers.  There's something great in a conversation that flows seamlessly along, and even those awkward silent moments that aren't so awkward with good people.  You can tell a lot about a person by how they react to those moments, and the conversation goes on.

Chip On My Shoulder

I've got the streets in my blood.  You know how the saying goes, I can't get it out of me.  I used to roam the alleys with the most cop free routes I could come up with.  Cops operate like clockwork and after a while you begin to know where they hang out, and adjust your route accordingly.  Don't ask me why I notice these kinds of things, because I couldn't tell you.  At the time I roamed the alleys for a reason, I was up to no good.  Now days I do it out of habit.  I know where the cops park and what roads I never see cops on and even certain times they come down a specific street.  I'm not a criminal and I don't really have anything to be afraid of, but I find it best to avoid cops like the plague.  I'm a young dude in a nice ride and I'm the prefect target.  I've had more negative run-ins with the law because of their attitude than anything.  Mostly let go because I didn't do anything.  I was once detained because I wouldn't let them search my car and when their dog didn't smell anything they let me go.  But, they didn't search my car.

Why am I even saying all of this?  Because last night they caught me slipping.  I wasn't paying attention.  I got pulled over, doing the speed limit, and they want to fuck with me when it's 20° outside.  Got me out of the car asking me a hundred questions about nonsense.  All just to let me go.  I don't get it.  I'm a pretty reasonable, respectful dude.  I have to admit that when I see a cop in the rearview mirror my heart leaps.  That's my natural instinct toward them.

So, yesterday I wrote about going with the flow of life and I'll be damned, what a hell of a day it was!  Work was insane.  There was all kinds of unusual crap going on in an extreme way.  Made me wonder if I had asked for it.  A 16 hour shift in stressful conditions and then pulled overto seal the deal.  I couldn't do anything but laugh.  I laughed more than halfway home.  I didn't overreact to any of it, I did just go with the flow.  I've got a bit of a quick temper when it comes to certain things like work and police.  But I kept it under control.  It's not that I didn't think about the situations, it's that I didn't think negatively about them.  That's a big change for me.  Perhaps with the weight that fell from my shoulders it took a little of the chip that was there with it.

Morning Coffee

It's early and I'm knocking the dust off my brain.  The alarm buzzed at 4:30 and I didn't want to get out of bed.  Carefully rising so as not to wake Gwen, she somehow slipped herself under my arm during the night without waking me.  She's gotten pretty good at that.  Steam rolling over the edge of my styrofoam cup, and I know that they're bad for the environment, and probably me as well.  It's cold as hell outside and I don't want to move, this chair seems as good a place as any to spin my web of words.  A web of words is better than a web of lies, you merely have to rearrange them in order to dig yourself out.  Trust me, I know.  I spend hours arranging words in a very specific order so that you might feel me.  So many minutes carefully choosing the right order so that I might better understand myself.  On humble mornings such as this I like to marinate in the calm that didn't always come so easily, especially in a place that so easily works my nerves.  But not today, I'm in a different place.  My mind is already on spring even though it's 20° outside.  It'll be on its way shortly.  I'm ready to do some cleaning in different areas of life, and life springs this time of year.  It's the natural cycle.  Mother nature has her way whether we like it or not, and this time I'll agree with her.  I can think of nothing more peaceful than flowing side by side with life as it does what it does.  At least for today I'll try to go with it, and see where it takes me.

What's Going On

For every step I take forward it feels like I take 3 back.  I'll never get anywhere I like that.  I let my wife talk me into joining her in therapy and I just really ain't feeling it.  But I told her that so it's at least out in the open.  I see it like this, I'm going to continue doing what I've got to do for myself and give her what she needs.  I suppose if nothing else comes of it at least maybe she'll be able to accept what's going on.  I'm not a straight cold hearted asshole, I do have feelings.  And my consideration for other peoples feelings has always gotten me into trouble.  But it's all good, I wouldn't take any of it back. 

Since I've had a few days and some time to cool down a bit I'm guessing it won't hurt to give it one more shot.  I don't think I have anything to lose by going to therapy, again.  The only thing I can do is be honest about where I'm at and I plan to do so.  I don't really know what to expect, I'm just rolling with it right now.  At this point I still need my space and time to do what I gotta do.  My intentions are still to find out what's inside of me despite where I'm at and what's going on.  I still have some hesitation about whether it not she'll ever get me.  It's kinda like the fact that all this drama needed to unfold in order for her to become willing to let me do what I gotta do and her accept it makes it seem forced.  I don't want to force her to like anything about me.  If it's not there it's not there.  And right here is where I'm at.

Early Morning Rhymes

I side step my trepidation and confess my messy state, expressing my wrecked expectations of an uncontested fate.  It's similar to a catch 22 when you're wet from exit wounds you have entered yourself into.  The scene is dismal at best, but at least I'm no longer confined like a criminal with minimal routes to redemption.  My hunger exceeds my temptation to starve myself for sinful deeds, feeding off poetic needs, I see.  Murdering words to free my anguish, I vanquish language to rearrange my mental status.  As the music fades the pain rains upon me, it's daunting, the airing out of this dirty laundry.  It's me I see, free.

Going Forward

Roaming around the grocery store last night I realized I'd fit right into an episode of Seinfeld.  I had an oddly uncomfortable conversation with a gentlemen in the vitamin aisle.  I was looking for some melatonin so I can get some decent sleep.  He started telling me about the mens multi-vitamin he was looking for and why he needed em.  I think he was high on something, or maybe it was just me. 

It's a very different thing doing stuff on my own for a change.  I was joking yesterday that I had to go buy myself a new belt for the first time ever.  I'm experiencing everything from a different perspective now and I kind of like it.  It's amazing how different things can seem from just a slightly different angle.  Things that may have once seemed like a chore is now just another adventure, even if it is only deciding which belt I like.  Oh, there's still this nagging voice in my head telling me I'm wrong but my feet are so willingly moving forward.  A bit of the weight has been lifted from me, it's no wonder me feet move with ease.

I still have no clear path ahead of me, everything is a moment at a time.  I feel like I want to be around people, but people I don't know.  I want to have a conversation with someone who knows nothing about me, nothing of my past.  I don't want the words I say to be judged by any of the actions I've taken recently.  I can feel people shaking their heads as if pleased by knowing they were right about me.  It doesn't matter, I'll continue forward.  It would be nice to go where nobody knows my name.  Just another nameless face in a crowd.  Sometimes that's ok.  Right now it's ok.  I'm getting by.

Wandering

Doubt creeps in as I circle the parking lot looking for a spot, in the rain.  I asked the barista what the coffee of the day was and come to find out it's the same every day.  "Why have a coffee of the day?" I thought.  No matter, I'm drinking it black anyway.  I think she was kind of amused by my questioning.  Another, older woman, asked me how I was doing like we were old friends...perhaps we are.  To which I replied, with a smile,  "I'm getting by.  Looking for a new treasure."  She chuckled a little bit but I could see in her eyes she felt the same way about books.  Forget gold, money or jewels, if I'm being buried with something to take to the next life I want books.  I carried on looking.

I didn't find anything that really piqued my interest enough to take with me.  I did pick up and read through a book of poetry that I was diggin'.  I made my way over to the philosophy section and reached for a copy of Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance.  I've had this on my list for a long time, I really want to read it.  I thumbed through it and put it back, not in it's original place.  And I didn't have to hear someone behind me bitch because of where I put it.  It was a counter to the doubt the crept in earlier. 

There is actually a reason behind why I move books, believe it or not.  75% of the books I have ever bought weren't even in the right section let alone in its alphabetical home.  I don't think I ever come to a bookstore looking for something specific.  I wander around until I find something, often out of place.  I'm out of place, its how I am so it makes harmonious sense to me.  The books that I move are usually something I've read, wanting to share it with the next unknowing , wandering soul. 

So I sit without a book, writing...on a phone.  Which does sound silly but it works.  Wondering why I haven't ventured into a book in a long while I started thinking.  How might I keep reading the work of others when I have this book, my poetry, inside of me?  Not that it's impossible to balance, but I don't want to spend my time reading, I want to spend it writing.  I am so grateful I've got this to help me through tough times.  Putting it all out there in black and white makes me really see what's going on inside.  It's easier to sort out.  And I get to share here, with those few of you reading.  It's a beautiful thing, really.

I Went On A Date

With a pretty lady named Gwendolyn Eve. We had a coffee date when Isaac had a mother/son bowling thing going on. We had a blast, let me tell you. So, I'm giving you a rare four and a half minute look into my life.  Enjoy!

I Am What I Am

Nerves worn, my calm is tattered and torn.  I forewarned you that I was born a heathen, philosophical and forlorn.  I adorn blank pages with poetic inscriptions, the friction of my life, my pains and decisions.  Encrypted versus laced with descriptive, scalpel like precision.  I'm sharp, quick with a pen.  I'm a little bit dark, if I'm diggin' deep within.  My sins are of flesh and blood, it is what it is.  My ill mentality breaks the monotony, not mixing well with practicality.  My abnormality makes me, I am what I am.  Do you feel me, cuz I'm sometimes  hard to understand.

A Walk In Hell

I did something today that was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  I had to leave my home, which hasn't felt like a home in a long time.  I don't know what's next aside from having to find somewhere to stay the next few days.  Beyond that, I don't know.  Trying to tell an 8 and 3 year old what's going on isn't easy.  Obviously my daughter doesn't get it, but the boy is old enough to understand and I'm hoping it wasn't a catastrophically traumatic event.  Saying it's going to be ok when you know it probably won't be is not fun.  Explaining that it has nothing to do with him and telling him he can ask or say anything he wants, but he already knows that.  With nothing left to say I hugged them all, including my wife, and walked out the door.  I knew it wouldn't be easy but I didn't know it would be that hard.  I stood on the outside of the door and cried.  Fuck, I feel like a failure.  Everything I care about is in that house and to walk out is unthinkable.  But I did it and now I have to accept it.  I had to do it.  I no longer felt comfortable there, piling on the facade to try and please her because who I am is unacceptable.  I can no longer deny what I am to please others.  I thought I could do it for my kids but I see that's unreasonable.  This didn't just spring upon us, its been in the air for a few years now and I can't keep it up anymore.  Sometimes people just shouldn't be together despite how much they love one another.  That can only go so far.  I've got no anger or blame toward her in my heart, if anything at myself.  And here I sit, alone in Starbucks drinking coffee, wallowing in what just happened.  I don't expect people to understand, I realize it looks like I gave up or created all of this and there isn't anything I can do about that judgment upon me.  I know my reasons...I have thought about them and talked about them and I think I gave it everything I had in me.  I'm done...I have no more desire to work it out.  I'm at the point where I became willing to inflict this pain on everyone and...it was a last resort.  I'm emotionally bankrupt, and hurt.  I've hit rock bottom in this aspect of life and I hope better days are ahead.

Humbly yours.

Seasons Change

As I stepped outside to leave for work tonight I paused to look around and inhale the cold, crisp air.  The snow that fell yesterday lay mostly untouched, beautiful in white.  All but the snow in front of my house.  Its been trampled upon, packed down, and picked up for snowball making.  To some it may look like a disturbed mess, but not me.  I can see what lies beyond the surface of that mess.  It has been played upon and laughed upon, and enjoyed.  It is the snow on which everlasting memories were created, even though it is ultimately temporary.  It brings out the kid in me.  It builds in me the character of childhood innocence, something I lack but am learning.

The kids and I played in the snow until the dark pressed us enough that we had to go in.  I'm not sure I've ever experienced a freedom like I did today.  For today the pieces of this puzzle fit together perfectly.  This happens rarely, though more frequently than it used to.  Life has a way of telling us it'll be ok.  And as the seasons change, so too will I, welcoming it humbly and with open mind. 

Honesty

Sometimes being honest with yourself means being honest with others.  It's not something I've been good at.  You see, my whole life has revolved around me doing things, or not doing things, because of what others would think.  That's not an easy way to live.  It's like leading a double life, knowing that what's on the inside only wants to be free.  Some things have come to a head and I can no longer avoid doing what I gotta do, unless I want to drive myself crazy.  The whole point is solutions, not hanging on to problems and marinating in their stench. 

This is some pretty personal shit here and I'm not even positive I'll post it yet.  But, what have I got to lose at this point?  Most of you know I'm married, but not very happily.  We've been together for about 14 years, married 11.  We lack common interests, she just really doesn't get me in a lot of ways....most ways.  I'm too "on the edge" for her.  So, there are lot of things she doesn't know about me because there came a time when it was just easier to keep it from her than to continue to be treated like a child.  I don't need a mother, I can handle my own shit.  And it has pushed me further and further away from her.  As she's honesty told me she just can't accept some things about me, and she is entitled to that.

We've tried a few different things to see if we could get a better understanding, on a couple different occasions and it didn't get us anywhere.  We agree on little anymore except for the fact that something has to change.  I think we've come to a mutual understanding that although we love each other, it's just not working.  I think it'd be better for her, myself and most importantly the kids to have two good parents that aren't always unhappy.  I'm past being angry or scared about being honest due to possible outcomes.  I used to get mad every time I heard a complaint about leaving my hats hanging all over the house or not doing the dishes properly.  Anymore I just walk away from it.  Facing her and saying we need to talk was a painfully relieving act.  And telling her where I'm at took a huge weight off my shoulders.  It's out there and although the whole situation sucks I feel a sense of freedom I haven't felt in a long time, if ever.  We're not talking about jumping at divorce tomorrow, but when two people are pushed that far away from each other what will ultimately come of it?  I'm afraid I'm past the point of working on it, I've already started to let go a long time ago. 

Life is difficult.

Working The Night Shift

I sit up here at work writing, it's 2:13 a.m. and I've been up since 8 yesterday morning.  Each minute wearing on me a little more.  I'm about to suck down my 3rd extra large coffee of the night, it can't possibly be healthy.  Not much in this place is.  It's a cross between the military, prison and high school.  It doesn't make sense for a bunch of well paid adults, I know.  But this is the place I call work.  I'm a crane operator/stocker which means I run a crane about 1/10 of what I used to and I spend the rest of the time on the floor making sure everything is running when in reality I'm just sitting on my ass.  It took me 9 years to get here. I don't complain much about the work I do or how I'm compensated but almost every other aspect of this place is insane.  It's a constant battle between union employees such as myself and management.  I just want to put in my 8 or 16 hours and get the hell out of here.  Management wants everything to run at all costs and figures the way to do it is keep everyone close to termination so they toe the line.  And the union employees want to bitch about how they're getting screwed and look for a way out of doing everything.  It's a cycle that never stops.  I come here to do a job which I am paid well for and as long as they aren't telling me to do something unsafe I don't have much of a choice.  Granted I'll put up an argument when they want to do shit ass backward and stand up for people when someone is trying to pull one over on em.  Once in a while I'll do something to get my bosses riled up but I swear it's only because they let me. 

The only way I've found how to survive out here is by just doing my own thing.  I run the crane and I'm very good at it.  I stock and I'm pretty good at it.  Not saying they wouldn't try to fire me, but I'm an asset to this place.  There are only a few of us here anymore that know what the hell is going on, its just fallen apart.  So I go about my business and do my job and try to keep my ass out of trouble.  Trouble seems to find me once in a while though, I can't imagine why. 

People gossip around here like a bunch of kids.  I'd imagine it's this way in most workplaces, not only this one.  I try my hardest to stay out of it, but I can honestly say I don't say anything about anyone behind their back that I wouldn't say to them.  I've found this is the best way of not letting my mouth get me in trouble.  But you have your cliques and your outcasts just like any other societal interactions.  I get along with almost everyone as long as they're real.  If you're full of shit then I'm probably not gonna talk to you...controlling my mouth, again.  A lot of people take my quiet nature the wrong way, they're almost offended by it.  I'm always an observer, never the center of attention.  It just doesn't suit me.  At the end of the day, though, you may call me an asshole but you can't say I haven't done my job.  Although people probably do say that too, but I know what I've done.

It's dirty and hot and cold and loud and everything is big.  It's a hostile environment through and through.  I don't think anyone would stay here if it weren't for the money and that's a damn shame.  The dollar is the only thing people are after, and that includes me.  It has been nice while it lasted but it's not worth my peace of mind.  The cons definitely outweigh the pros anymore.  I only know of one way to change, and that's just to change it.

How about you?  What do you do for a living and how do you feel about it?

3/4/2013

Today it's just myself and Gwendo.  The girl is so bright and full of energy and one can't help but to feed off of it.  I know I say it often but  its made such an impact on my life I can't not talk about it.  She's just a free spirit.  She speaks her mind, she's funny as hell, and she's just overall beautiful.  So, it's my day off and we're just hangin out.  She wanted to go for a "leaf walk" but I think it's a bit chilly out for her.  Those days are coming soon with spring on its way.  We decided to go to the mall so she could go on the carousel, and walk around a little bit.  She insisted on sitting on the thing that spins, and makes me dizzy, but who am I to say no?  We walked around and talked and went up and down the escalator, jumping off before the last stair disappears, it's what kids do.  The car ride is just as enjoyable.  She tells me to "put on some jams" and we get down.  Now, I'm not much of a dancer but this miniature lady makes me move with her.  I don't think it would be as fun otherwise.  Sometimes I wonder what the people next to us are thinking, but it matters not....we be gettin down.  The conversations we have are rather interesting at times.  I've wanted to record one but it's ours alone.  Kind of like if someone else were to be listening it would lose its magic and innocence.  That's something I wish not to tamper with.

Sticky Situation

Morning rushed in on me today.  Waking at 7a.m. on my day off isn't my usual deal.  But, the coffee is good and the sun is shining through my favorite window.  It's very peaceful, unlike my state the last few weeks. 

I've been restless as hell.  My mind is on fire with thoughts and ideas, I've been burning holes through paper, draining pens of their ink.  It's an interesting place to say the least.  I think I'm in the process of writing a book, by hand.  Now, I don't want to officially declare I have the intention of doing so, I'm just letting it flow.  I'm going to see where it takes me.  I've been stuck in a situation I'm unhappy with, my job, and if I'm not actively doing something to get me free then I've given up.  Hope, another one of those words I shy away from, is all I've got at this point, even if only a sliver.  So as my mind reels I jot down the highlights of my vision, synching heart and poetry into a symphony on paper.  My chest leaps from the beating underneath just thinking about it, and I try my damndest to paint this picture for you.  All I want to do is write, and walk, but writing seems more paramount at this moment.  I've got things to share with the world whether they want it or not, and getting myself out there is heavy on my mind in a light way, if you can feel that. 

That's just what's on my mind at the moment.

How's Your Tolerance?

I'm gonna hit up what is a touchy subject to most people here this morning.  I had a conversation with a self-proclaimed atheist friend of mine last night, and it went as it often does.  I ask him questions about what he believes and he has no problem offering it up.  I've been thinking about it ever since.

You see, I don't like labeling myself as being anything other than what you see before you at this moment.  I just don't roll like that.  There was a time when I was completely wrapped up in having to be something.  I no longer think like that because then people expect certain things from you.  I like to keep people guessing, wanting to figure me out but unable to all the same.  So, back to the point.  What do I believe?  If I had to put a name on it I'd say I'm agnostic.  I don't claim to know anything.  From where I stand nobody can prove to me that there is or isn't a God.  From what I see the scales are tipping toward not, but I leave myself open to new ideas.  Plain and simple, right?  Not really. 

Most people are shocked when I tell them I don't believe in God.  Most won't talk long enough to learn that I don't necessarily not believe it either.  Religions of the world, your tolerance fucking sucks.  And when I say religion I'm throwing atheists under the bus as well.  They quite possibly might be more religious than religious folk.  So many people would rather be right than admit they don't know shit.  I don't know shit, I'll tell you up front.  I do know that I can gaze upon the stars in amazement knowing that something vastly larger than myself created it, and that is good enough for me.  It doesn't need a name for me to appreciate its beauty.  I'm not sure people understand how they limit themselves simply by saying "there is a God."  Or "there isn't a God."  It's extremely confining and it makes me claustrophobic.

Am I different in your eyes because I can tell you I don't know?  Does it make me weak or indecisive?  Can you tolerate me not claiming a religion or backing up a God?  Life to me seems really pretty simple.  We live and we die because it's the way of nature.  We've gained the ability to think logically and with reason, so how many of us actually do?  People fight religious wars over "sacred" ground.  Is every bit of the ground we walk upon not sacred?  Everything essentially comes from the earth including this mass of skin and bones.  Is that not sacred enough? 

I'm not asking people to throw in all their beliefs.  I am simply asking that you ask yourself some questions.  Because I can't make sense of the fact that people fill a stadium 20,000 deep, pay $200 a pop to get in, and then throw money in Joel Olsteen's plate when there are people starving.  This doesn't seem a little illogical or irrational to you?  We spend more time trying defend our "beliefs" than we do just living life and taking a real notice of what's going on around us.  I think the idea of "God" is purely a selfish one, but I get it.  People need to know they're important and find comfort in there being a bigger plan.  They don't want to hear that upon death its lights out.  I think it scares people.  I have tolerance for all of you.  I accept what you do and don't have a need to change you.  Be who you gotta be.  But can you accept me as I am?  I am the outcast, the one who isn't like everybody else.  I think my ideas have alienated me from a large portion of the world population.  I sometimes sit and listen to the God debate among friends, alone, as they get nowhere.  I do enjoy listening to it though, I feel a little more balanced.  I want the truth, always.  Comfortable or not.  And since I've got no proof of what the truth is, I sit in the middle.

Philosophically speaking, that is.

Coattails of Time

Ink stains my hands as I attempt to wash the evil from my soul.  My coffee cup is full, the smoke rolls. I learned this morning that some people walk around puddles while I walk through them.  We make what we will of the things we've seen, perceiving reality as we see fit.  Society is higher than me in the eyes of  vanity.  Superficial sins placed upon a pedestal, resting on its laurels while time creeps in.  A ripple wrinkles my train of thought, head feeling kinda light.  My brain drops ideas like rain drops fall on dry ground washing away the dust of yesterday.  A wolf in sheeps clothing, I speak of life in plain sight.  Nobody noticing as my ideas embed slowly, flowing solely on the coattails of time. 
Do you think you can know me?