Learn to say Good Bye.

God has offered us comfort, in our most painful moments, with promises we know to be true:

That good byes said today, will be joyful reunions tomorrow;
That broken hearts are temporary
and love eternal.

God has given us memories, whispers of those we love, so they are never too far -- even, if for a time, they are untouchable.

Down the rabbit hole

"Remember your Creator before the silver cord is cut, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the well." -- Ecclesiastes 12:6

I lay in the darkness, waiting for sleep that does not come. My anxious desires betray me, as I stare through closed eyes into the void. Watching the colors dance, like stars, in the sky mocking me for being grounded.

I wait and welcome the sensations as they slowly begin to take over. As my body begins to vibrate and the roaring of oceans fill my mind. I try to move, but cannot. Paralyzed, I smile inwardly knowing that soon I will be free.

I think of the stars that I saw, which have now fled to another place and suddenly I can sense the rush of air as it passes around me. I keep distant my fear of the darkness, the speed, the sound and I think of you.

Now, in a room without walls, I am sitting across from you and we are talking - in silence. I can see you clearly as we discuss the many things I never had the chance to say. I am happy to know that the end is truly another begining.

All too quickly, you begin to fade as the distance between us becomes greater. I reach out, but find nothing. I tell myself that I will remember, I won't let myself forget... not again.

As the alarm clock rings... I try to remember my strange, but familiar, dream and cannot.

Once again, I forgot.

The Source of Life

How long can you continue to race against the pain? How far can you run before you fall, before you succumb, to the fears that wait to overtake you.

To throw you.
To break you.

How many peaceful nights can you toss and wake in panic. How many tears can you cry, when no one else is watching you.

What does it take to accept the unknown and to let go.

Let go.

Let go of the suffering, the pain, the questions.

How many illusions can you weave, that you lay as bricks of a fortress to guard you.

I search for you, your existance. I want to know the truth of the mystery, the play, whose script we read from daily.

Your voice has grown softer. I fight to hear you clearly. How cruel can memories be, when your heart is already broken.

I am

I am wondering about mysteries; about the visions that exist in hallucinations, in the darkness of fears and in the void of moments lost. I am wondering about creation and if I have always been there. From the beginning.. watching as a spirit dancing in a sea of souls yearning for home.

Looking in the mirror I can see the images of my past, who I was, who I have become and who I wanted to be. I wanted you to love me, to hate me, to worship me, to fill me with hopes and dreams.

Drunken in the chaos I created, I yelled for help. I reached out my hand to be your support, your guide. To free you from fear and sadness. I lifted you, with hopes that it would give me strength to lift myself from the thorns. I accepted your pain, but emptiness was still all I had.

In the stillness, in my peace, I have let my ego go. In the silence, in my minds eye, I see clearly.

Listen to me, let my stories fill your mind with visions. I am here just for that, for you, to feed your soul and hold you up wrapped in the suns light.

I am here. As I always have been, as I always will be. Created and creator. The pureness of love.

Frozen

I have tried to write this one post so many times it has become frustrating. There are so many thoughts, emotions, memories... everything is just jumbled together. How do I put order to such a random array?

I made it out of Kansas (thank God) and am now back in Florida. It is nice to be back, but a lot of the 'magic' that made me love the state seems to be missing. It is either missing, or my perceptions and expectations have changed. I have not quite figured out which it is.

Memories of my mother come and go. I find myself fighting to remember her voice, her common quotes. Trying to piece together memories, promises and understand that my questions will have to go unanswered for now. I have come to understand my ability to compartmentalize emotions without thinking. It has been an effective self defense mechanism, but nothing comes without a price. Sometimes I have to ask myself if the price for feigned peace of mind is worth it.

Lately I struggle with feelings of being trapped and motionless. My life seems stagnant and that is something it has never been. Is this the effect of growing old? If so, I want no part of it. A fading star... excitement transforming into unsettled tranquility. Like standing in a crowd that slowly begins to dissolve. What point is there in living an unquestioned, unacknowledged life?

I try to have faith, I try to find answers but for every answer I think I find only more questions appear. I cannot help but wonder, from my own life experiences, what if we have gotten it all wrong? What if our belief systems are mistaken?

What if God were as close as our next dream?

The comfort of routine

I had a friend ask me recently why I collected so many books, or I think to be more exact, if I was building a library. I found it interesting that I never really stopped to consider why I was doing it, although I knew I had some basic reasons. I find comfort in them, regardless if I pick them up to read or not. I find and value a sense of wisdom that comes before the idea of being 'politically correct,' and I like to think that I am protecting memories or ideas from disappearing.

The truth of the matter is I wanted to share them with my mother. Of course all the other reasons are valid, but the motivation was to sit and talk about them with her.

I continue to do it and I am sure that somewhere it's just because my nature is to spend money (not your average jew) but it's also a routine now. A routine I continue because it gives me comfort... because I was doing it to share with someone else.

Something is missing and I notice it every time I look in the mirror. My eyes don't look alive anymore, there is a void and darkness that is physically obvious.

I don't even think I know how to grieve openly. It's been so long since I allowed myself to do that. I believe strength is required to survive and the ability to overcome any obstacle and move forward, without delay, is necessary to avoid falling prey to pain.

You certainly can't think straight, support others, or maintain your focus when you're weak and lost in despair.

I cannot even cry and I want to. I feel it, but nothing comes out. I try and remember her voice and it is like a whisper now.... it hasn't even been that long. If people could hear me repeating the things she said to me, so often, in my mind - over and over - they would think I was truly psychotic.

I am so afraid I'll forget.

I daydream of taking my mother places and doing things with her that I knew she would enjoy. Things that she didn't have the chance to enjoy for so long. I daydream of helping her, of watching her regain her sense of self and value... of her being who she was before it was lost.

It doesn't last for long and then I see her lying on the floor barely conscious... I imagine her fear as she hears the paramedics and is rushed into the hospital. I imagine the pain and stress on her body as her heart fails and as she is brought 'back to life.'

I sense the pain in being unable to speak, or move. I can feel trapped myself, as if I was there. I can imagine her screaming in her mind...trying so hard to speak....as she hears the doctors, the crying, the voices all announcing her departure.

Most of all, I can feel her heart breaking as they sat the phone next to her so she could possibly hear me on the speaker .. telling her that I was driving, as fast as I could, to get there and to just hold on. I would do something to make it better.

I lost something at 10:47am on April 24th....I feel the void that it left every moment of every day.

It is not a void that time, kind words, beautiful cliches, or happy memories will fix or fill.

When my mother's heart failed, for the last time, mine left to find her.

Voices

It's been a month, plus some, since my mother passed away. I cannot exactly say how I am doing. I am doing what any one can do, I assume, I am simply moving forward and trying to stay sane despite all the thoughts, questions and hurt.

Some days are better than others.

I just wish I had a saved voicemail, a letter, a video... something other than pictures to help me remember her. I wish her face while she lay in the coffin wasn't my last solid visual of her.

I keep replaying in my mind, over and over, the words she would always say to me. At first, I heard them as if she spoke them. Her tone so clear in my mind.

But my memory isn't as strong as I would like it to be and slowly the voices begin to fade. So I hold onto them as hard as I can.. repeating over and over the phrases she said with so much love.

The voices have changed; no longer her they are my own.

I learned a long time ago to be strong despite what was happening to me. It became easy for me to pretend that everything is fine, when in the publics eye. Finding quick moments, alone, to quickly feel pain before putting it away again...

Life must go on, eh?

Sometimes it becomes so hard to fight the feelings of regret, anger, hurt and longing to have them back. So many things I would do differently, if only I knew you wouldn't be here right now. If I had known the voices would fade.

A friend, with very good intentions, told me that when people close to them die they view it as 'another angel' watching over them. That idea helps them to cope. If only I could be so easily comforted by the thoughts of angels and being watched over by people no longer here....

I am not so easily comforted.

Sometimes I wish I was alone... away from everything and everyone. I want to scream, fight, cry. I want to hear her voice, not mine, I want to understand.

Sleep gives me hope... I hope for dreams, motion picture memories, something to give a false sense of a different reality...but even dreams are limited for what hope do you have when you know reality will throw you back down when you awake.

It isn't easy... despite what you see.

Don't be dismayed at goodbyes...

"Don't be dismayed at goodbyes.

A farewell is necessary before meeting again,and meeting again after moments or lifetimes is certain for those who are friends." -- Richard Bach, Illusions.

I will never forget when I first read Illusions and Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach; those two books were my shelter at a time when I felt lost and afraid. It seemed to be so full of wisdom and the words wrapped themselves around me, like a protective blanket. In those words I felt invulnerable.

As I grew older, those same words were what I pulled from when it came time to offer comfort to others. Especially the phrase above, my catch all -- Something to say, when silence was the best option, but not the right option.

On Friday, April 24 2009 my mother passed away, unexpectedly. Now I struggle with regret, guilt, 'what if?' and the knowledge that I cannot change the fact that she is dead. What comfort do words offer now... I see past the illusion that any words, no matter how well they mean, can offer comfort to such a loss.

"Soon I will come visit you."

"Soon we will spend some time together."

"No, don't come visit just yet, we'll plan something soon."

"I love you."

There are many things that haunt me with my mother's passing. I knew her loneliness and depression. I knew how, above all people, she trusted me to always be there for her and keep her safe. I knew her fears, her hopelessness and her desire for life. I knew she wanted out of the pit that held her captive.

"Now, as my heart breaks, I have learned how long soon can become. Not as quick as necessary, not as comforting as once thought.

I have learned that life should not be about soon, but now. That each moment is precious, each second irreplaceable.

That as quickly as your heart beats, it can break."

My mother died a month before her sixty third birthday. She died unhappy, lonely and with a feeling of worthlessness. She died an unnecessary death and while it is not the 'proper' thing to say... her death was rooted in neglect, because had we cared more... showed more... helped more... loved more than perhaps she would have found the strength to overcome her demons. We did not and neither did she.

"What memories do I have? That while others said 'soon,' 'maybe,' or 'no' my mother always said 'yes.'

That she, unlike so many others, would sacrifice herself - without thought - to see someone she cared for happy.

She would do without, so you did not have to."

Death does not make a person become a saint and there is no one that I know who is perfect. However, what I can say is that my mother's flaws were over shadowed by her heart. A beautiful person, full of love and compassion who never learned to let go of all the hurt that life had brought her way. Her hurts turned to disease and when it was time for my brother and I to take care of the person who gave up herself to take care of us... we did a little, but not enough.

People would say that we did everything we could. They would say that you cannot blame yourself, you cannot feel guilty. I say fuck them and their petty cliche, fuck them and their chorus of "she wouldn't have changed," fuck them and their empty words of her being in a 'better place.' Who the fuck are they to say what is better or what is enough? I do feel guilty, I do blame myself and I am angry... I am so fucking angry at myself and all the people around me who could have cared more and didn't.

"So many people said they had forgotten how beautiful my mother was. So many people... why had they forgotten?

They did not forget how beautiful she was - they had simply forgotten her.

They forgot about friendships, they forgot to be there for someone in need.

They forgot the importance of love, support and intervention to lift someone lost in depression.

They forgot to care."

It has been over two weeks since she passed away and I still feel numb. I've tried to keep my mind occupied, simply to delay the process of coming to terms with her being gone. I still pick up my phone, with the thought to call her and then realize how I cannot. I hear her voice in my mind and have conversations about all the things I wanted to do for her. I don't want her gone, because I do not know where she is.

I am okay as long as I keep my mind occupied.

I've lost my mother, my friend, the person who has always cared for me and who I could tell anything to. I lost her before I could do all the things I wanted to ... because I was too busy with my own life. Too selfish and lost in my own world to hear her small cries for help.

I wonder if she knows how much I love her, how much regret my brother feels and how much my heart is breaking?

I hope that as you read this you take another look at your relationship with your parents. That you take the time to consider those that are lonely, hurt or fighting demons of their own. If that situation exists in your life, perhaps you may want to think of what difference a little more love may make.

Time doesn't always mend a broken heart.

There will come a time to conquer

I pride myself on my lack of interest in television. I do not watch it, as a rule, and I very rarely listen to news broadcasts or the radio. Luckily, I have movies, IPod and computerized entertainment to occupy me. When work isn't doing it for me.

While I agree, to a limited degree, with the 'ignorance is bliss' mentality - I cannot help but feel a strange sensation of tension when (in that rare moment) I take the time to play catch up on world events.

As powers shift and change, alliances become distant and countries that the majority of people never think about pick up pace in a race to flex their military muscle... I see history completing it's circle and ready to launch a new lesson our way.

I remember growing up with the threat of a nucleur war and having fall out shelters. I also remember when war became a distant thought and was limited to countries that had no direct impact on our safety.

While I never put much thought into it; it crosses my mind a bit more frequent now. Without going into the cause, such as population expansion or resource acquisition, I believe that war is an unavoidable reality. Not so much a question of "if," but "when."

I don't mean war that we read about and sit feeling sorry for the countless innocent people who live daily with the fear of bombings and invasions; but to ourselves, here. Could the American people handle the psychological impact of a missle wiping a city off the map?

Doubtful. We've been blessed (and cursed) by not having to ever deal with such realities. Pearl Harbor and September 11th being our closest encounter with such an experience -- and while we were fortunate to have a technology to end one 'war,' at an unfortunate cost, we are far from being the only nation able to show a demonstrated force today.

It is sad that peace is so hard to acquire and that tolerance tends to only last a short while. However, I guess that is just the nature of being human in a world filled with such diversity.

It worries me, though and it is my 'prediction' that as we watch situations unfold we will begin to see it take a direction straight towards us.

I'm starting to feel that's a dangerous formula for the future...

"We're a society of people that want to ignore the bad things and just 'move on.' I feel that's a dangerous formula for the future."

It seems the older I become the more interested (obsessed) I am with the past. I've also gained a new found interest in current politics and our economy. As for politics, it is still limited; I do not believe we are a true democracy and I think elections tend to be the lesser of the two evils. It's business and like with any business, people are going to say and do what they need to 'get the contract.' What they do after they've won it... well that's a different story.

I think that Obama is interesting, not for his ethnic background (he is not entirely African-American and that, nor women, are a first as President in this world), but for the youthful and energetic charisma that he brings to the stage. All the same, I am sure people found Hitler youthful and energetic too. Look what that birthed.

Not that I am putting Obama in the same class or in any way relating him to the monster which rose out of Germany. I am simply saying, good character can quickly turn to something more sinister. It is a good rule of thumb to never be blinded by the dazzle of a person's charm.

I hope he can do something to bring our country around and improve our strained relations with our international community. I guess time will tell; he certainly has his work cut out for him.

So, with that, "good luck" to Obama and be the person you promised us you would be. Now, with the good said, it was brought to my attention that he cut White House salaries to anyone making above $100,000.00 a year. Okay, well I don't make $100,000.00 a year and I don't have sympathy for those that do (or did). However, what does that say? Those people will suddenly have to reorganize their lives. It may be good in the long run, but it is a fuck over off the bat. If you want to make an example, Mr. President, perhaps you could have cut your own salary as well?

Either way, let's stand behind him and support him. As with anyone, he needs the chance to show what he can do. Nothing happens in the span of a week; at least not the reworking of a nation.

Obama wasn't the purpose of this entry anyway. The purpose was our innate desire to forget the bad and move on. Do you realize that the Holocaust was, what, only 65 years ago? Do you think that is a long time? In the big picture it is moments behind us.

The Holocaust isn't the only 'bad memory' we have as a people; there is also Pearl Harbor, 911 and I am sure a slew of others. Both of a national level and a personal level. All the same, how often do we remember, discuss, or plan for our future with the thought of those bad memories guiding us?

Rarely. It is not the nature of people. We want to forget as quickly and as completely as possible all the wrongs we experience. All the hurt or pain. We want to move as far away from it as possible. My question is what does that distance cost us?

I think we live in an interesting time; filled with many paths that we can follow. So many choices to make in a world where everyone is our next door neighbor. Thanks to technology, we're no longer world apart.

Can we make the right ones?

I am not easily shaken by things. I think that its' important that we're able to be resilient in the face of whatever adversity we are hit with. Yet, the state of the world I think frightens me. I haven't come to terms with that one hundred percent, but I believe that's my honest feeling at the moment.

I hope that you, I and we make the right choices. I hope that we remember the past as we plan our future, that we learn from our mistakes - quickly, without repeating and that we learn and utilize the values of compassion, caring and understanding.

With that said, have you ever had a feeling that you just cannot shake? A 'knowing," if you will? Here are mine and they may seem just a bit 'out there.' I guess that's a given when coming from me:

1) Our dollar will rise and then suddenly fall beyond repair. We will end up merging our monetary system with that of the Euro. It may not change the face of our currency (I doubt the American people could handle that psychological change) but it will change meaning.

2) Islam will continue in faith and population until it is the dominate religion. Slowly growing as a peaceful religious system, with extreme factions (such as any religion in history) and then show unrelenting intolerance towards christianity and professed christians.

3) With the increase in military power of other countries and from pressure within the European Union our country will slowly lose its stance as a super-power. With that pressure, our allies will not be in position to stand in our defense as a completely soverign nation. While America may always be "America," our system of government will slowly change to a figure head and national spokes-person who answers to another authority.

4) The tele-tubbies, after rehab, will come out of the closet as always having consisted of a gay, transgendered and stoner. Not necessarily being the ones you assume them to be. The triangle was all a misleading pitch.

There you have it. My predictions. I hope it's nothing more than over-reaction at all the information being thrown out to us. Let's just use these things as mindfood. Let's think about our past and begin to make progressive and calculated steps for the future.

Let's understand that people may not believe what we do, or behave as we do, but that they are no less entitled to their free will than we are. Let's also remember that sometimes the cost of freedom is freedom itself.

Let's stop killing in the name of God, whatever you may call "him" and realize that God does not need to use our hand to 'smite his enemies.' God can create worlds, man, etc., God doesn't need any one to think that they are "his" ultimate fighting champion.

Let's give Hillary Clinton props. She's an incredibly strong woman, in the face of many obstacles and will likely be a powerful and positive force for our country in the White House. Plus, let her do some diplomatic talks on a PMS day -- who's going to fuck with her?

Let's remember that there is strength in unity to a common purpose and that there is power in kindness and love. All the hate and violence in the news gets really old. Another reason why I don't watch TV.

Let's all remember to remember.

...if you're still wondering, at this point, "yes, the tele-tubby comment was a joke."

deniager reven si emit

There is nothing more interesting, intoxicating or intriguing than the person who can speak in silence. The path that is held in their eyes or the journey they beg you to take.

Who hasn't wanted someone, something, to crave? Something to obsess over. After all, weren't we designed to obsess?

So unfortunate that the hand which wipes away our tears is often the one to beat our desires and consciousness into submission. Is happiness worth the price of a forced smile?

Is love worth submission?

What void do you constantly seek to fill in the arms of another? What demons chase you into uncharted territory?

In silence so much is spoken. Peace is nothing more than a journey in your mind's eye.

Love IS our obsession.

I have always been worthy and my love you've never experienced before.

This is all I have to give.

Not much, never enough.

I hate McDonalds, but love Monopoly.

Okay, so I enjoy a good gamble. Men, slots, Ebay and things like McDonalds Monopoly game.



I travel all over for work, so I have plenty of time to attack some unhealthy food at MissDonalds.



:D



So.. here's the deal.... if you have Boardwalk or Virginia avenue hit a man up and we'll split profits.



I tell you this, so you can eat more of the nasty shit and I can just help us share some money.



Think of all the hookers you could buy with half of a hundred grand!?!

Insomnia

I'm glad that your smile is just an image in my mind

I'm not sure it was ever meant for me

And I'm glad I'll no longer look in your eyes, for I'm afraid of what they might see.

And I'm glad that we won't talk any more, our conversations never went very well.

And you won't be the one, I'm so eager to see, when I've good news to tell.

Your hand won't be the one I hold, through the bad times and the good.

Your chance is gone to do the little things, that I've always wished you would.

Like asking how my day went, or lending me your ear. Kissing me softly, on the cheek, as you pull me near.

You don't have the chance to offer back what your actions have left out.

I see beyond the words that defined what I thought we were once all about.

So the conversations I absorbed, which always went so well

Were words to you and nothing more, but a poet could not parallel the conviction and feelings you so profoundly portrayed

And I believed, not knowing that, the script changed day by day.

Has God abandoned us?

Today my old-new-boyfriend made a comment about the existence of God. He questioned the truth behind the saying that God does not give us more than we are able to handle, because he is experiencing things that he feels are beyond his own capacity.

It reminded me of an experience I had when I was eight years old and which I probably have not remembered in over twenty years. I was outside playing at a chapel in front of my grandmother's house when I decided to wander off and walk behind some old houses. Below those houses were the roof of sheds belonging to the homes below and I walked on those sheds until my foot broke through and I found myself looking down, helpless, at how far the drop was below.

Then something strange happened: there was nothing. I remember clearly looking down and being afraid I would fall all the way through and be hurt and then I remember sitting on the grass some feet from that shed. In between I remember nothing.

I would put that aside and say that I cannot remember what happened because I was so young; if I could say that I never had any other experiences like that as I got older. There have been a few, not many, but a few which has made me view things quite differently.

Therefore, I believe that we are not given anything which we cannot handle, but I also feel that sometimes our ability to 'handle' what is given does not mean on our own. Perhaps there are times when being able to handle what has come our way requires a little bit more. Could it be that it requires us to humble ourselves, sacrifice ourselves or come together with someone else to tackle the obstacle. Couldn't that be possible?

I do not have enough faith to be an atheist, but I do have enough personal knowledge to know when the hand of God has been shown. For whatever the reason or purpose, for whatever the greater goal, I know that when the time calls for it we can be greater than our normal self.

We've been given the greatest gifts. Free will, the ability to quickly adapt, the inner knowledge of right/wrong and compassion. I am sure that I'm leaving some other excellent examples out, but those are the ones which strike home to me.

I know he can and will conquer the obstacles that lay ahead and I know that when the time comes and the purpose is right, I'll be there to help him with the ones that I've been brought into his life to assist with.

I've been given the free will to love unconditionally and the compassion to know when that time is right.

Perfection leaves no room for movement, but a worthless life does not move period.

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What is the nature of man?

"I do not understand what I do... It is no longer I myself who do it, but it is the sin living in me.... For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do --- this I keep on doing..... I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me... I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin. I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin." -- From a letter written by Saint Paul to the church in Rome, A.D. 57

Who am I to sit and spill my stories to an unseen audience? To weave tales of happiness, sadness, despair and loathing into stories and parables. To tell the lie that I have learned my lessons, but to continue doing the things I have done that I know I should no longer do.

I have been silent a long time, because I was caught up in traveling for work and dating someone that I met while doing so. A fascinating person, whos imperfections I found beautiful in a way that perfection could not match. Giving my heart, and myself, freely although I know that it is often with a cost not readily seen at the start.

I stayed on the same road with them, despite their wandering off. I returned to their side and followed them, in as much as a small puppy would do to someone that stopped to pet it. However, as is my experience, after their season was done for me - I returned to our place alone.

There is so much I could write and say, but I don't think I am ready yet. It would be great personal therapy to vent and try to understand -- but I guess the truth is, I've been down that same road before and I should have known better. So who am I to complain, cry or seek validation in the acceptance and sympathy of others?

Why is it that love never wins? That truth does not prevail? Why is it that you can give your heart so freely to another person and they can take of that, but they cannot correct the wrongs they've done? Or how can someone hurt the person that loves them, knowing the entire time that is what they are doing? Empty words so easily slip from the lips of others; love is such an easy word, for many, to speak.

I guess to some people it is easier to ignore the wrongs they've done and move on. That way they don't have to face them, their accuser, or correct them. I guess two people, working together, to a common goal - sharing a common love - to have something special is only in fairy tales. Or perhaps, there was really no love at all.

I think we should stop filling youth with the imagination of utopian love, happily ever after and fairy tales where good defeats evil and the nasty dragon is slayed. Then again, perhaps I am just old and bitter. Having loved people and sacrificed myself for them, time and again, to always be the one standing alone when everything is said and done.

Perhaps the true nature of man is the darkness in their hearts. The sin we keep locked up inside, while we put on our show for everyone else to see. Perhaps it is more fun to lie, cheat and be deceitful to the people around you who love you. Everything that is taboo offers more excitement, does it not? Everything you should not do, becomes that much more exciting to do.

I was proud of myself to have reached a point in my life where I was genuine. I love with all of me, I am loyal to a fault and I give of myself to those I care for before ever considering myself. Without expecting in return for anything more than the respect and love that ought be part of the relationship. Then again, perhaps that pride is the same exact darkness in my heart that makes me the same as the person who cheats, lies or hurts others.

I want to understand the true nature of man. I want to believe that genuine people do exist. People who cherish and value love and commitment and relationship. People who know how to correct their wrongs, better themselves and help better the people they are with.

Otherwise, what do we have? When our word is no longer a bond, when love is no longer something deep, special and unbreakable -- what are we left with?

Is the nature of man truly dark? I will always hope it is not.

Cunt

Fag Bitch

Ass Fucker

Faggot Pretentious

Whore

Liar Slave

It's really no fun doing a post like this after the Dixie Chicks and their freedom of speech shit. What ever happened to the Dixie Chicks? Are they even around anymore? So much for that freedom of speech, if not.

I'm just bored. Sitting here smoking and thinking about the boyfriend or somewhat boyfriend, cause that's become his new title. I've gone past the yield sign and now I'm standing at that annoying four-way stop being pissed off.

I am all about options; I love the options man. I just don't like being in the position that I'm in. How do you make a decision when you can't come to a conclusion; even when you have more than enough facts to make the walk.

It's that love bug.. I'm tellin you. That shit is hardcore. I get up, I get knocked down, I get up again and BAM!!! right back into it....

I'm just a sucker for a sexy guy with those sad eyes and a good line.

So, now I am bored and I miss the fucker. Being single has some good points to it, but nothing beats someone that knows you, has your back and that you know is going to be there for you when the lights come on.

Ya know?

Are you tall enough to ride this ride?

I've been away for some time now. Work has kept me traveling here and there and nowhere you'd really want to be. Unless you're into rednecks from BFE and there is nothing wrong with it if you are.

The knee has healed, thanks in part to my boyfriend and anal sex, but I still don't have the full kneeling action restored. I wonder if that puts my gay card in question?

Poor kitty, it's hard to change your spots. God knows I've tried and I've done very well at it, if I say so myself. My risque bar days are pretty much behind me, even though I do enjoy to go out for a drink now and then to terrorize the scene. My mouth certainly hasn't changed any nor my 'fuck it and fuck you' attitude. My depth has come closer to the surface, though and that creates a lot of change.

It also makes me more easily hurt, but if you've been reading my blog for any length of time you already know I am easy to hurt. I still give my heart totally to the person I am interested in and I still take a beating (no, not literally) before giving up and moving on.

I've always been that way; I believe loving with everything inside of you is the only way to love. I am just amazed that my heart hasn't become hard yet. Or that I haven't learned to sense the difference between someone's 'representative' and their true self.

I guess I still fall for the sales pitch. Who doesn't though, right? Even when the voices in our head are whispering no we continue to say yes. Can't blame us... everyone is seeking the person who completes us.

So where does this leave me? I am doing okay, the job keeps me busy and I am involved with someone who I am trying to believe in. Trying to make sure they can provide what the sales pitch offers.

We will see where it goes.... until then, I am alive and well.

Just a piece

I've been out on the scene since 15... You've seen me on knees in the alley and you've tasted him on my tongue. I liked the attention and I lived to always throw a curve.

I never gave a fuck; where was the next trick to make a show out of? Who would be next? Just a tool to entertain me and in turn entertain you.

You hated to like me, but you lived vicariously through me. I was everything you wanted to be - too afraid to let loose. Too worried about what people would think to say fuck it.

I've learned a lot; I learned that the more I tried to give a fuck the less reason people gave me. The more I wanted to conform, the more disgusted you made me. It amazes me how the 'gay spotlight' works... just don't give a fuck and do what you want. Take some dude outside, throw him up on a car and suck his dick outside the club. Let 'em watch... it's the spotlight.

But don't try to change your ways. Don't grow up. Don't want more. More is the illusion.

It's just part of the drama...

I smoke too many cigarettes and I think too much. Take off on a trip and drink too much. Spend too many hours wondering too many things about what it is or what could have been.

Never stop to accept regret because every action has made me who I am. I couldn't stand where I stand or be half the man I am if I hadn't been determined to pave my own path.

But I can't help to wonder just where you are - at 3am when I can't sleep. When I pace the floor fighting to contain memories.

I know I act like I simply don't care, but everyone needs a method of defense.

I wonder what its' like when the strongest people are weak. When the ones you think never cry can't stop long enough to speak. Painful moments done really quick.

I wonder why this is starting to rhyme.... I feel like fucking Dr. Suess.

Things are well -- my knee hurts like a mofo -- I am done with the broken bone shit. I guess I learned my lesson about over drinking and trying to run the acrobat style.

RaWr!