Rape Trick

Are you desirable? Are you irresistible? Maybe if you drank bourbon with me, it would help. Maybe if you kissed me and I could taste the sting in your mouth it would help. If you drank bourbon with me naked. If you smelled of bourbon as you fucked me, it would help. It would increase my esteem for you. If you poured bourbon onto your naked body and said to me "drink this". If you spread your legs and you had bourbon dripping from your breasts and your pussy and said "drink here" then I could fall in love with you. Because then I would have a purpose. To clean you up and that, that would prove that I'm worth something. I'd lick you clean so that you could go away and fuck someone else.

The Vintage A's Skip Town

Many people don't realize this but the red sox and the phillies are their respected cities SECOND rate team. Thats right, both organizations are pretty much the equivalent to the mets. The boston braves and the philideplia A's were the premiere and dominate teams from those cities that everyone adored, and when they deserted and broke the hearts of millions, the fans had no choice but to convert to being sox and phillies admirers. Its really rather interesting if you think about it. Many of the older fans long for the days when the vintage A's would own the fields and give even murderers row a run for their money. They talk and dream and recollect with a sad underlying acceptance that the under achieving modern day teams will never fully live up to the antique dominance of the 40s.

I Wanted You To Feel The Same

I sometimes got so tired of our game
I wanted you to feel the same
And did i say i liked you on the plane?
I wanted you to feel the same
It breaks my heart to say that when i was
in pain i wanted you to feel the same.
But nothing gets you really its a shame
I cant believe you didnt feel a thing
I wanted you to feel the same

The Great American Novel

Today i sold the previous five years of my life away. I made a grand total of 295 dollars. My furniture and accessories that i worked so hard to afford were practically handed out to the folks of casselberry. These people really didn't appreciate any of it. Offering two or three dollars for a piece that originally cost me 200 bucks. I guess that's the kinda thing that happens at yard sales to people who spend just a little to much on modern decor. I think it would have meant more to me to just hand stuff out to my friends for free. I'm not bitter but I really cant be any happier to leave. This was my American dream. It came and it went. Ive blown two very dear wishes of mine, and i really only have one left. Please let it happen.

The Future That Never Was

I am intrigued by the pasts perception of the future.  This lithograph is from the 1880s  and depicts flying aquatic buses and  late 19th century  Victorian attire. Who would have ever predicted that in the year 2000 We would still be wearing monocles and going to the opera. Im pretty positive that the only opera that occupies popular culture nowadays has the words "phantom of the" preceding it.

Synecdoche, New York

 Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I’ve been pretending I’m OK, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen. 

Decay

We have short time to stay

Our nights are slipping far away

Caught up within bad memories

Our growth seems certain to decay

Now..this feelings so alive

But, as you or anything, we die

Lets stay here for a while

Eyes so round and bright we gently smile

Live for the moment, not the past

Why do we always fall so fast?

I Just Met A Girl Named Maria.

  After my plan was foiled and i understood the truth, on the walk back from her house, i turned to my friend and said these words "i guess this is growing up" It was easy to give up, like it always was for me, that night i probably just went home and wrote some vague premonition of love and loss on my aol, bulk mail account. 
 
  Unbeknown to me, this was the genesis of the shell i would slowly build for myself to fend of hurt and to help me with any possible failure i might accumulate through the years. I don't like discussing certain things, with anyone at anytime That's how Ive always been. But really, Its better for a person to say whats on their mind the moment it happens and not let it bottle up, no matter how uncomfortable the situation is. God forbid you hold your tongue, make sure these misplaced feelings don't surface at a later date, and god forbid they do surface at a later date, lie. Simple as that. Tell the person you mean nothing to them, anything else you muster up will only hurt your cause. It doesn't matter if they share the same feelings as you. They will only use the truth you showed them to hold against you at a later date. 
 
  Billy Wilder said once that if you have to tell the truth make sure its funny or they'll kill you. He's right. Don't venture across the lines and into some realm of fantasy where things are always gonna be alright, like its the third act of a drab romantic comedy. Or possibly a Jane Austen book. Or the great gatsby. This isn't cinema, or some savvy post modern novel, your not in the staring role, maybe you once were, but you've been demoted to the pathetic supporting character, that has no character, who is just a plot device for those lesser films that need an obstacle to occupy that bothersome Second act. You are just there toreaffirm the love the two leading characters have for each other. You were quite close but deus ex machina put you in your right place. And when i say you i mean me. 
 
  When i was young, i would watch that movie, West Side Story, and during the dance at the gym, when tony and maria first glanced at each other, without uttering a single word, knew they were in love. I had delusions that this is how people met. My parents met this way, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, ect ect. My 2nd grade pea brain couldn't comprehend the fact it isnt that easy at all. The fundamental things no longer apply, time goes by, people have grown tired or maybe they've just grown tired of themselves. 
 

"but if you are failing, and you need me, I'll let you cheat, and realize all the answers were already there, and you knew them all" 

 
  As the days bleed into the nights, within the daze of depression, and my pride still nursing the sting of inadequacy, the apathy i have towards everything else is accompanied with the welcomed sensation of prescription drugs and the outer-worldly array of emotions that don't resemble sadness nor happiness, or anything else in between. I never give a second thought to most people who might try to belittle me with their gossip and banter. Its just the ways of this world. . They mean not a thing to me. Its the ones I do care about, the ones that want nothing to do with me, that's what really gets my eyes to turn red. Its not below the belt, but right in the fucking gut. I haven't got the slightest chance in hell. And illprobably end up at the bottom of a swimming pool. 
 

nausea aint what it used to be

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!

The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!

Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd"

Babymaker

breaking through into the waters heat

It wont be long, once done, it wont be wrong

Its impossible to understand

Theres no way of knowing and no way out

Take a breath and tear it out

Its not enough

As the sky gets nearer so does time

You’ll never know how much you left behind

The only way is down

How To Save California

Its been two weeks and the longer I'm on the road the more i have to keep repeating to myself that i am home.  Its all been happening so fast, Ive hardly had the time to communicate with  you, nevermind anyone else, about what exactly happened in philadelphia the other evening. 

Firstly i would like to express my gratitude to all the people who wrote me and told me how they felt. I know there really isnt anything anyone could say or do that would make this experience any lighter. But the fact that so many of my friends and family would even take the time to share their feelings was beyound belief. And for that, i thank you. 

Shes my favorite now and has been since my earliers days. There was a time when i honestly believed that i had not a friend in the world. Her kind voice would always find a way into my soul and things wouldent seem so distraught. And in my darkest hour she seemed to be the only one who knew i was telling the truth. Not even my own son could look  me in the eyes.

She has been in bed all this time but we did not want to write and tell you, several doctors have been in to see her, on of them said cancer. But you see, those doctors, they sit down fiction and they stare. Their choice of words speak mid nineteenth century medicine. Maggot, Leach, and Frog down the throat. I know these methods are harsh but in 1849, that's all we got. 

They told me not to tell anyone but she had a few last words. She said she loved you and she told me she still cared. If she ever finds the time to leave her place she will. She spoke of mainly mornings you and her would awake to the sound of mother, as she shuffled through her pots and pans trying in desperate fashion to get breakfast done before father got back from the fields.

But mother is gone and so is father. They just couldn't handle this planet it its present state.  This manifest destiny that is seemingly in our grasp, this fifty four forty or fight!, you speak of, i don't buy it. Only a certain type of person can handle those things. If there is a god, would he want us to take what wasn't ours. To take a man and remove him from his place he worked and lived and loved his whole life? 

I spoke to her but i reckon she'll be pushing up the grass shortly. I would go on but it only gets worse from here. I'm moving out west, where, i will establish a town and possibly become its mayor. With this paper and with this pen i will show you how to save California. And i will tell the locals, stories of back east and how it was for our fathers and what will become of their homes. I'm not doing this to spite you.

Nobody Puts Baby In the Casket

This morning i woke up next  to a complete stranger.  For the first time in 3 months, I've slept with a person that meant nothing to me. She is just the first of countless others that are to follow.  The hollowness i feel can only be filled temporary by indulgence in debauchery  . No more will my nights be laced with sincere expressions of love. Gone are the butterfly's and gone are the  rainbows. Now its just razorblades and gasoline.  

I wanted to lead a life with a woman by my side and to experience what it feels to actually live with someone. To get married, have children, you know, something to make my mother proud. But you see, my sex addiction is not exclusive to one person. I need multiple partners in my life. Theres a sheer joy i obtain by venturing to the isolated bars to find  desperate women who are lonely and want to experience love. 

But they confuse Love with Sex. They are  similar but separate things. One has nothing to do with the other.  Cue the charming handsome stranger that  lends their dreams with real authentically.  They melt like butter in a sponge of vague hope.  I buy them drinks, i drive them home. I let them know that their safe with me. I have done this every single night of 2009. And every single night, with someone new.  And i am ashamed.  

This blog is my confession. My S.A. meeting recommended this. Something to collect my thoughts and to vent about everything I've gone through. Its not my fault women are so attracted to me. I cant help the looks i get .  And the jealousy that ensues from their husbands and lovers.  I am not a depressed person, but i am human, and these heinous thoughts start to wear me down. It makes me think twice about my devious behavior. Id give anything for a permanent  solution, but the sweet smell of the sensual and perverted catapult me in very compromising positions. 

So I'm off the wagon and neck deep in pussy. I am hardly beside myself. Please this is a cry for help. My final plea before self destruction. Theres been so many lost weekends, so many broken promises, i took the plunge and all i have left is an empty bed filled by the only thing that has ever followed me home.

I Didnt Love Her Body, Only Whatever It Was That Was Making It Alive

"A greedy, weak man is seduced and trapped by a cold, evil woman amidst the dark shadows

and expressionist lighting of a modern city"

   The noirs of my yesteryear, like the dark corners of someones nightmares, are rich and vibrant but full of dread. I feel as if my personal as well as my professional life is a failure. The cold truth of the matter is, my personal life is a failure because of my professional and my professional life is a failure because of my personal.

  

  I suppose at the time it seemed like an adventure, to take a mans life and to bury his bones, to discard a cold frigid corpse like it was yesterdays flowers.  And besides, he was a poor excuse for a man, and when you lay in the factor he had money, it just made things that much sweeter.  In retrospect, looking back, i just convinced myself that i was doing society a favor, ( as if i owned it anything in the first place).  Everything seemed to fit like one of those old jigsaw puzzles people used to play, and the final piece was set when i laid eyes on you.   I saw you standing there, under that lamp post, wearing that vintage dress and  fitted midriff belt,  cool and composed. And felt a face i knew once before, possibly in another life.

  

  With the touch of your cold hands. All of those tender moments of understanding  we shared were put on the back  burner in favor of an underlining prowess and determination that undermined even our original attentions. Your hurt me bad, baby. Was i that arrogant and self absorbed to even flirt with the possibility that we could live out our dreams in some decretive and decadent island utopia.  I worked at the five and dime, as a hamburger peddler, been brought up through the sewers where the sweat of the working man would dull the senses. You made a real mark. You and your American dream. Real blue color fodder. Well i have some news for you baby,  the American dream exists, its just unattainable. 

  See, i was perfectly content to lay low and let you work your little magic. Id blend in with the curtains and stay comfortably two steps behind. We needn't worry about watered down " i love yous". Your husband needn't worry about his wife.  I had the drop on him from the get go. Not even Hammer, who had been trailing me for the past few days had any idea just how potent my ace in the hole could actually be. If we only stuck with the original plan and went through with the sting,  you'd have New York by the horns  Id ride the fridges of your sucess and your husband would be in a hole somewhere on the side of the jersey turnpike. 

  Your voice was soft but your words were loud as you proceeded to show me your true intentions, deliberate and without shame.  You had no reason. You had no regret. But you had a gun, and i suppose that counts as something.    Im a modest man, and i knew the value in patience. Nerves are a dangerous thing. They can get someone hurt.  Even as the shots rang out, those nervous ticks, that maniacal laughter used to serenaded the city streets, couldn't articulate the feelings you felt, bottled up, and unhinged all this time for me.    

  And as the red stuff flowed,  your thoughts on me changed.  Where once i was just an odd curiosity i now became a tragic reminder that even your mortality could be challenged. See my mind was cleaned good and proper by the realization of one thing. We traveled to the beat of the same drum. We both craved the same things. Our thoughts and needs sailed parallel with each other. As i started to handle your neck, the blood continued to pour. Bele Lugosi would be proud. The gray and grit of the concrete floors blended in seamlessly with the walls and ceiling that enclosed the outside world from your screams. You just couldn't handle yourself. I had to kill you.  

 

  About an hour ago i awoke to the sounds of alarms going off all around my building. It was one of those startled wake ups as if the devils had been dancing beside me in bed. For a few brief seconds i felt the chill and echoes of layered noise that rang like the bells and flickering lights of  a casino. After the initial shock, it suddenly struck me,  they weren't coming.  As it really  mattered at this point.  I was shot.  Buy a revolver. At point blank. 

I was all washed up. 

  As the minutes come crashing closer i look at your lifeless frame that lay limp and lazy on my living room floor. What i loved about you wasn't your body, but whatever it was that made it alive.  It meant nothing to me now.  Why do i always forget the things i want to remember?  The television was left on and Meet Me In St Louis was playing.  The scene where Judy is singing on the trolley. A song about the thrill and fear of ones venture into the plague called love, disguised as a classic showtune. It pretty much summed up our relationship. What started out so promising ended with your death, and mine on the brick of it.  But at least you have me to mourn your memory. When i go, in all likelyhood the only thing ill have are the maggots that will undoubtedly find me before the police do. 

Dont Let The Bedbugs Bite

(oct 23 2007)

Was i really that naive to think i wouldn't end up at this place. Bad luck seems to be glued to my soul. Everything i do, every place i go i feel the stench of unfortune. My life is just one big sob story beginning to end. I don't believe in fate, no, but i do believe in stupidity and that's what i was for not investigating this location .

I had 2 months to book a hotel and i failed at even that simple fucking task. There are god knows how many hotels and hostels in ny and i end up at a homeless shelter. Except it costs money...and we didn't get free food. Because of my apathy i might possibly have an std. Because im lazy and always put things off for the last minute i could have heroin flowing in my bloodstream. The bathrooms were shared but not private. And of course NEVER cleaned. (why would they do that?) Vial's of crack could be found in my friends "room". And Hobo Bob with his dick out asked my friend jason if he would like a "suck and fuck" This was all bad enough, but nothing and i mean NOTHING could prepare me for what i found sleeping with me on my "bed".

Bed Bugs.

Yes you heard right. Little parasitic creaters feast off blood of humans and animals alike- preferably dirty humans and animals. Before this trip i really didn't think these insects existed. Long thought to have a permanent place in folklore and urban legend, they are about half the size of a flea but have fangs that inject the host with deadly poison....I consider myself a strong person. I can handle the aids and the coke and the possible spinalmangitis from the toilets, But never in my 26 years of existence did i think i would have to experience THIS first hand. 

When we got back i knew nothing of what awaited me in my solitary confinement. I slept with all my cloths on. . It took me two hours to even fall asleep. Why wouldn't it? There was no roof and the residents really made no attempt be quiet. There was no consideration for your neighbor here. And there really wasn't any reason why there should have been. These people were living here- living in the filth, living in the disease. It took me this long to get to sleep because of this and because of a instinctive intowishin--disguised as paranoia.

Like when you see a giant spider or roach. (You kill it) and all should be just fine. But no. things aren't fine.... your mind and body play tricks, especially when trying to sleep. You begin to feel a crawling sensation almost as if the ghost of the recently deceased insect was wrecking havoc on your psychy. Well that's what was assumed since somewhere in my head i knew this place was probably infested with roaches and one could crawl on me at any time. I'm paranoid half the time anyway when it comes to bugs. I felt them crawling on me but i figured it was me just overreacting so i didn't do anything and tried to sleep. 

Big.Mistake. 

All through the night (which in reality was only like 2 -21/2 hours) the inching continued. Was it me? or was it something more? Eventually i did pass out and the very brief time i was under i dreamt of death, distruction and of the worlds passing. Very intense. I woke up assured that i wasn't just "seeing" things. That the bugs were real and were making homes in my flesh. I quickly tried to wake up matt who didn't seem to give a fuck that he was sleeping in filth. He just wanted to sleep. It didn't matter that he was bleeding from the ears or that Hobo Bob was right outside our fucking door. The kid had a long night. He just wanted to sleep.

Fuck It. i slept on the floor and later burned the clothes i had on. And they were expensive too.

So here i am, one week later, and with the memories of something i never want to be a part of again. My body bitten and bruised and scard. These scars, a painful reminder how vital it is to plan ahead.

I was A Bouncing Baby, Now Im a Bouncing Bomb

Sometimes the burden of life and the downright tedious activities that come with it are too much for the human soul- Physically, mentally, AND spiritually! The world we live in is a unforgiving place and to make matters worse our god is a cynical bastard. There's death, disease, famine, rape, and murder at almost every place you can point to on a globe. Sometimes you might feel like you've never been given a shot at something  or if you have, you failed to meet the original goal you wanted to achieve. Its hard, i know it, but im here to tell you- well to show you- that there is reason for rejoice, for we are not all losers- no not by a long shot, in actuality we earned our right to walk among the population that make up this earth. 

See it didnt happen by chance that your here. Your all here because you fought the good fight, a battle of the bravest, our very existence in its purest form......

Our little story begins many years ago  when your mom decided to revoke her vow of chastity to make sweet love to your father. He was a strong and decisive man. He pumped, much sperm inside your moms body. You were but one of many, to be more precise, more than two million.. The sperms are "unrelenting" in their quest to obtain their main objective. Some are weak but fast, others are strong but clumsy. some are dead at the get go. Some sit and wait in almost hibernation like state until what they came for is theirs. I don't know if people really grasp this notion of how close they were to not existing. Sure half of a person would be intact, obviously, half of everyone originates from the female egg, but the DNA from the father can mean the difference between someone looking a bit like brad pitt, or to a person resembling bryan peppers. 

That my friends is a BIG difference. 

You also may want to thank your lucky stars you didn't end up in a toilet or down some 2 cent whores intestinal track. because as some of you might know, this happens more often than not........

So i guess my case in point  is, well, we are all very very lucky that we made it. We got to the egg first and foremost. (well most of us anyway), there were literally millions of competitors who's objective was exactly the same as ours, and while we might not have earned the roof over our heads, the cars that we drive, or the computers that we are reading from right now, the one thing we did earn was life.

Pig Virus

this supports my theory of time travelers infrotrating our current timeline. there was no such thing as swine flu before this year and now all of a sudden a 1976 propaganda piece turns up? complete bullshit. We have people going back to the fucking 70s with swabs of this shit. im being serious this goes beyond the flu, these people are intentually manipulating our past to satisfy their sick perverted need to have control on this world. Soon something catastrophic will happen as a result of their actions and no one will laugh at me then.