im living in a third world country right in my own home.

sometimes i really hate this place. i got used to not caring about material possessions. but one thing i do value is books. i have a collection of wrestling biographies and autobiographies, some signed by the authors. today walking thru the pigsty of a dining room, i find the cover for one of my books torn and destroyed on the floor. take my books and move them from the shelf into my room, and find the toy my dad had when he was a kid, well over 70 years ago is broken too.

the friggin fridge is disgusting, the floor has enough food on it to make another meal for someone else, the bathroom makes public washrooms in gas stations look like a place to sit down and have a nice meal.

the only room in this place which is decent is my room and if i leave for work or something like that when i come back its full of toys and clothes and stuff that aint mine. i cannot, repeat, cannot wait for the day when im out of here. for a long time i tried to keep up with all of it myself. full time job and then come home and clean. you want laundry, just look anywhere on the floor and you will find lots. empty bottles and what not. one time i counted the days that an empty beer case laid on its side by the stove in the kitchen for about 4 days before i couldnt stand to look at it anymore and threw it into the dining room where it say for another day until i picked it up and threw it it the garbage.

blahhh. i f’in hate this. when im out i aint looking back.

Contrast

a little experiment of my own design. i have never written anything when i was drunk before. i dont even know if i can. does it make any sense? does it matter if it does or not?

 

i am liquid

i am wax

poured out

over glass

i am time

and infinite space

alone and lost

in a god forsaken place

muscles twitch

and joints that ache

and a heart that wont stop

when it starts to break

saddled with the burden

the memory of you

that plagues my dreams

as no one could do

i am a memory

in someones mind

only existing

for that one moment in time

i am shadow

when daylight grows dim

i am moonlight

when the darkness sets in

i am wind in your hair

and a whisper in your ear

i am the words

that you refuse to hear

i am pain

and a contrast of ideas

i am love

and i am hate

and all that is terrible

and all that is great

feelings that have

no mouth to speak

i am the ledge

when you stand on the peak

the clouds in the sky

and the sea far below

and all in between

and all you will know

i am life waiting to be born

i am death

come early in the morn

more than you can ever comprehend

take me as lover

or only as friend

i am the great unknown

that scares you

when you are all alone

i am the thought

that you seek to surpress

i am the worst

and always the best

the flower

that withers and dies

the tears of the child

abandoned, who cries

i am the mirror

that reflects what you are

in the whole universe

one single star

stare into my eyes

if you can

and then you tell me

just what i am

I Will Try

Tonight

At the edge of all good things

Where dusk meets dawn

I sit alone and think

Of all the things

I have set my eyes upon.

 

All those who I have loved

Now and forever more gone

They only exist in my memory

Shadows fading

Blurred images

Of what they used to be

 

Sometimes

I am filled

With a self hate and loathing

For all the stupid things

The mistakes that fell from my lips in words

The hatred that kept my mouth frothing

 

But there is joy

Inside of me

And a longing for happiness

That I have never known

There are seeds

I have planted and cared for

Tenderly with love they were sown

 

I see their growth

In my children

And in my friends

I feel it

In a love

That seems to have no end

 

Near or far

Seperated or close

It matters not to me

I have resigned myself

To live with purpose

And what will be

Will be

 

I could tell you

I could show you

I could change for you

But what would it prove

You must believe first

That my words are true

 

So I will try

If you will allow

Leave the door open just a crack for me

And in all these things

You will see

How sincere I can be

 

If you stood in my place

What would you do?

Would you just let it slip away and die?

Forgive me

But I’m not sorry

I would not be a man, if I did not try.

Tourettes

well heres something i dont talk much about. but i was talking to a friend of mine and the subject came up because of the way i think and connect things together.

i have tourettes. for those who dont know what that is…

Tourette Syndrome is best defined in the archives and pages of neurological conditions, syndromes, and disorders. Initially Tourette Syndrome was seen as extremely rare and an individual was viewed as having violent muscle contortions (motor tics) and vocal disruptions (vocal tics) combined with outburst of swearing and obscenities. (Tourette history) However Dr. David E. Comings writes in Tourette Syndrome and Human Behaviour, "…Tourette Syndrome is one of the most common genetic conditions affecting humanity and many more carry the trait."

now i do not have it that bad in any way shape or form. i have a very mild case of it. the thing with me is that if i am tired or stressed out, i will blink alot.  a squeezing together of the eyes in a rapid blink that is easily recognizable from normal blinking. it started when i was about 11 years old. thou they didnt really know what it was back then.

i never had anybody suggest to me that it might be tourettes until i was about 22 and went for an eye exam. i have since been properly diagnosed. was offered drugs but refused them. i have it so mildly that why bother. the drugs can alter the mind also and i dont want to give up who i am now that i am so much more comfortable with myself. it was tougher when i was a kid cause other kids can be very cruel. but they didnt understand and neither did i so you cant blame them.

somedays if i am stressed out or real tired it will come out. and i notice that some people will look at me strange like…. wow whats that guys problem. it puts me off of talking to people sometimes or saying what i really feel to their face cause if im worried about how they will react, i will start to blink more and that just makes me stressed more and then its a down hill snowball picking up speed.

im not really sure why i felt like talking about this. maybe i would just like a few people to know… if i say more or seem more personable when i am writing to them than talking to them, its not cause i dont like your company. its because if i have something i would like to say, i get complicated with it thinking what are they going to think of me? can they see past my face to hear what im saying? someone i know really well it hardly bothers me at all. but if you make me nervous, well i might be a little shy at first. but if i can feel at ease and trust you, then its a different story.

just so you know, theres a whole other story in the mind behind the story told on the face. if you take the time to look past what you see at first, you might find that the story was worth taking the time to listen to.

remember that people when you see someone that looks a little different to you.

Peace and love to the ones i love and im off to bed. nite all.

 

I Got a Good Feeling

hey, you cant be sad all the time. when the feelings there you should go with it. and i feel it right now. its so nice to write something simple and happy for a change.

 

 

 

I’ve got a good feeling

 

That I can’t explain

 

Like something nice

 

Is gonna happen today

 

You put a smile on my face

 

And I’ve got a good feeling

 

That I can’t explain

 

 

I could get lost

 

Staring into your eyes

 

I said my peace

 

With no more lies

 

You put a smile on my face

 

And I’ve got a little feeling

 

That I can’t explain

 

 

And I wonder if you think of me

And if things were different

How would they be

And I wonder if you ever dream of me

And wonder how things might be

 

 

And I think of you

 

Before I go to sleep

 

And I pray the Lord

 

That he will keep

 

This smile you have put on my face

 

And this nice little feeling

 

That I can’t explain.

I Am

I am… crazy.

 

Mad as a hatter.

 

I have to be.

 

What other explanation is there?

 

Explain it to me.

 

Imagination and Kisses.

 

And all the things I wrote

 

Wringing out my heart

 

For a precious drop of hope.

 

All those words

 

Trying to sway your heart

 

When I am here

 

Set so far apart

 

In time and years

 

In mind, body, soul

 

One too young

 

And one too old.

 

Its an old line

 

Really quite sad

 

Im going just very

 

Slightly mad.

Imagination

i dont usually think too much of the things i write but i think i did something right here.

 

Imagination is not reality

 

It does not fill the void inside of me

 

It will not keep me warm at night

 

Tell me the wrong from the right

 

Console me when I am sad

 

Comfort me when things go bad

 

 

 

Will it tell you of love

 

And look at the stars up above

 

Far from city lights

 

On hot summer nights

 

 

Will it stare into your eyes

 

And never tell you lies

 

With emotion beyond compare

 

That you will never find it’s equal anywhere

 

 

Will love bite it’s tounge

 

When your heart is won

 

By another one who feels for you

 

Something that you think might be true

 

 

Will it stand aside

 

When you hit your stride

 

Unbiased and unjudging

 

Forever and always wanting

 

 

To whisper only even as its heart lays shattered

 

As long as you’re happy, nothing else matters.

 

 

All that I am and all I will ever be

 

I throw down at your feet

 

To hope that one day

 

Somehow, someway

 

You will see

 

 

That imagination, is not reality.

 

 

 

 

I dont know what to say

well i dont know what to say. i was talking to a friend of mine tonight. he applied for a job at Staples. and hes going for his second interview. and it looks like he will get the job. he put me down as a reference. whats the point of all this? they asked him if there was someone he looked up to in his life. you know what he said? he said it was me cause i was like the father he never had.

 

what can you say to something like that? its great, its wonderful, its awsome.

and yet.

i still wish i was just a few years younger. that maybe i could be something else besides a father figure.

but, like i said about you before, Nick, you’re a great friend and I’d tell you that i love you and give you a big hug if you werent such a damn homophobe. LOL

its not my fault. sometimes i just cant help myself. hehe

 

i appreciate it more than you could  know. i knew someone like that when i was his age. and thats what he was like to me. what more could i ask than to be that to someone else.

 

ah what the hell. i love ya anyway ya crazy lug. there its ok to say it that way. we are big manly men. well at least one of us is. but its not my fault. im trying really i am.

 nite all.  

Plants and Books

hehehe, im such a thief. but i always admit to it. vh1 storytellers tom waits. oh its just beautiful and ive been trying to get it for so long. and now i finally have it.

but when i rip someone off i always admit to it. so heres a story in a rhyme. gee you know, trying to write like someone else is damn hard lol.

 Plants and Books

 

 Well it’s late and I know

That I should be in bed

But I’m all wound up

With the thought of you in my head

Thinking of the smile

I put on your face

I wish I could have been there

To see that touch of grace

 

You say that you can live with it

Well maybe some, a bit

Just can’t find the words

And so surprised by it

But if you stop to think

You must know that it’s true

How could anybody

Not be in love with you

 

So write a little note

And don’t forget to water

Someday you may show it

To your son or daughter

And let a little smile

Play across your face

And think of me when I’m away

In some far off place

 

Cause plants and books

And sideways looks

Don’t tell the story true

But don’t forget

No matter how bad it gets

That someone

Still, loves

You.

 

 

hmmmm now that i read it this morning, its not like anyone else at all. but whatever, i still like it.

History repeats itself

so here i am 3 years away from 40. it bothered me when i turned 30. how will this feel? birthdays dont mean much anymore. but tonight i was thinking about my dad and some things just come out to close to home.

my dad had two kids with his wife. she was from NS. they split up and he met my mom and that was history. he never saw his kids again. he wrote them letters and sent money on birthdays and his ex wife kept the money, threw away the letters and never told the kids. the next time one of his sons saw him was at his funeral. the other son is still so angry that he never came back.

now im staring down the loaded barrel of something the same. not that i think my ex would do things like that cause im sure she wouldnt but still the simularities do bother me. but the more i think about it, i have stayed here only for the kids for so long. i dont want to be another 10 years down the road and hate the time i spent with them thinking i somehow could have been happy if i had ended all this earlier.

i always wanted a son and never had one. sometimes i wonder what it would be like to start all over again. i had the name picked out and everything but it never came to be. maybe i was given daughters so i would never repeat my fathers mistakes. if so, then why am i in this situation. god loves to put those little twists on things eh. i love my daughters to death but that desire is still there. oh lord you are cruel. you want that, well ill give you this. see her? i know thats what you want. well you cant have her. this is what you love? then i will take it away. you want to be free? well lets see you get out of this.

but in the end we all pass the buck dont we? in the end i have no one to blame but me and no one to set me free but me. think ill just sit back and see where lifes highway leads. and maybe turn the steering wheel if i see a nice place to stop on the side of the road, and stay for awhile.