I inhale this substance almost every day. Just like my psych meds which I take every evening after food because otherwise they are too harsh on my body and I will vomit. Seriously. Delta-9 THC has come to my rescue. It has soothed my anxieties, caused me to feel motivated to do things I otherwise would not do and makes me happy. Among other beneficial side-effects, the medicine is easy to ingest, has few negative side effects (which if I were more financially well-off, I’d eliminate the negatives altogether).

Yet, there are those of you who would look at me in hate, because the federal government has told you that what I do is wrong. In fact, the feds thing Marijuana is more dangerous than most chemically produced drugs like cocaine or LSD. You, like a good little clone, believe this rhetoric. I can sit here and tell you, first hand, that this naturally occurring substance has done wonders for me. And yet, you are so ignorant, that you would look on my behavior with disdain. Someone else planted this idea in your head that pot is bad, or that it makes you lazy and capable of nothing. If you seriously truly believe this, you are dumb.

I can’t describe to you the various benefits this substance has, when properly ingested and moderated. It’s just good, and it came from the earth, not some tweaker’s bathtub. I’m sad for all you ignorant fucks out there who take life so god damn seriously. It must really fucking suck to be stuck in your version of reality, where there is no fun and no time for anything good. Shame on you for letting things get to this point.

Thrive, don’t just survive.  And do whatever you have to, to reach stability. This works for me. It may not for you. But don’t hate…

I have been guilty of this crime in the past, see my ex-wife. I didn’t listen to the voice when it told me she was a fucking crazy bitch.  I even went with marrying her because meh. And did I listen to the voice then? NOPE!

So my words of caution and ridicule are this. You suck if you don’t treat others with respect. And by that I mean to say, you do not respect others with any integrity if you can’t manage yourself, your needs, your issues and whatnot. This world is full of you fuck-heads. I say that because unlike me, you refuse to do anything about your predicament. Instead you make time to wallow in it, or throw yourself a little pity parade. Lame. No one is coming to your rescue, like the little voice used to. Your common sense is bludgeoned to death, and the rest of you suffers.

NO one fucking reads this shit anyway.  BECAUSE IT’S TRUE AND REALLY HARD TO HEAR. You all have given up on self-improvement.  If you had any dignity left, you’d respond with something, as to indicate a sign of life. Sadly, even this is too much to expect of you.

So, henceforth I am committing myself to a more positive and uplifting look at the positive aspects of my life, because I’m tired of trying to warn you against the idiocy that is you.

Bent light, limbs

Fingers of the fall.

Slow tumbling bellies

Ballooning out, up

Rumbling with the voice of thunder.

Distant scream of pine wind

Ache of autumn in the bones

Dry leaf sounds

Winter

Rain like electric sparks

Wet soil churned and wormy

Indiscriminant cold

Huddled birds in the boughs–

Warm, still.

By night

We stare in awe

Blind sea–

Of distant stars,

And empty darkness.

We take for granted some things in this life:  Like stability, normalcy and abundance. At least, I find people with mental illness do this. We are so used to everything being upside-down and inside-out and then tied in a knot. Stability becomes depression after not too long, because idleness lends itself to it. The voice of depression whispers in my ear constantly, and most of the time, I am strong enough to retain control of my own mind. I am in the driver’s seat. Other times, I’m not. This happens to us all, that’s what this illness really is, a wiring problem. We try to get things to happen in our extraordinarily complex and misunderstood brains, but alas, it goes wrong. There is not enough happy chemical, or too much of it, or something. Either way, we get that it’s not working somehow, but do we really understand it? No. We seriously don’t.

I laugh at you people who put your heart and soul into your relationships with your doctors. Doctors are salespeople too, and they sell you drugs, and you trust that what they say is right because society told you doctors are like Jesus. Doctors aren’t going to tell you what the long-term side effects of taking the meds are, because they fucking hardly know what it is that makes the brain malfunction in the first place, let alone how then to fix it. I often say that people from the future will look back on us and say: “Holy shit Tom, those barbarians didn’t know a damn thing about the brain and yet they assumed they could just whip up a formula and fix it? Morons.”

It’s our best shot, but it’s not a very good shot. We live in the time of experimentation, when your drugs and my drugs are being tested on people, and the outcomes of long-term use are apparent when it is too late to do anything about it. We will suffer the consequences, birth defects, rashes, deaths, organ failures or whatever else may happen. Why am I telling you this?

I hope you have some sense of appreciation for the little sliver of time you have to be alive. You mentally ill folk are a part of history; you are the product of careful examination of the things gone wrong with the mind, and the first real attempt at fixing it. No, locking nutters in the asylum is NOT A SOLUTION. Be lucky you weren’t born then, how fucked would that be? Makes you appreciate your cushy little “provided for” life you have now, with rights and privileges as well.

I believe we all have the right to vent our thoughts out into the ether. That’s what this blog is for me, my voice, cast into digital nothingness. I hope someone reads it, and finds it useful, but now after 124 posts and 3,500 views, I know you’re out there. Listen to me this once. Appreciate what you have today, because your life hangs by a thread whether you acknowledge it or not. You are special, and your life is only possible through experimentation on your brain. Living with mental illness, untreated, is YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT. There are plenty of ways to get help. I’m not going to care about you whining if you don’t make the effort yourself, to get your life in order. Do it, be proud of who you are, and go forth into the world. You absolutely deserve a chance at life, a chance that this condition is interested in depriving you of. DON’T LET IT. Fight this thing. Kill the symptoms with brutal drugs, poison your body, survive it, and the side effects, and get your ass out there and be a part of it. Life is so short. I don’t think you understand just how short. I’m not going to explain. If you haven’t figured this out by now, there’s no hope for you.

My final statements: mental illness would like you to continue to believe that you are powerless, and unable to do anything about your life. If you do not change, you will stagnate and things will suck for you. If you want to change, you need only do 3 things that will dramatically improve your life, and chances of being functional amidst the rampant symptoms of mental illness:

1. Take your meds. If they don’t work, increase them. If that doesn’t work, stop taking them and demand a change from your doctor. Either way, take the pills.
2. Change your environment. The people, places and activities you were doing before this point have, in large part, perpetuated your disease. If your environment enables your disorder, recognize that. Do something dramatic to change it.
3. Get help from someone. Have a confidant, a therapist, a doctor, a very strong and close friend. Talk about every damn feeling you have, and lay it all out there. You have no choice, unless you strive to internalize your illness.

I can attest to these things working, and when not followed, always leads to failure and badness.

That’s my fucking two cents on mental illness. Appreciate it and thrive.

It’s sad to think about, but yeah, we did this to ourselves. We enabled idiocracy. That’s not a word. But you get what I’m saying, we let them go out of control. There SHOULD be a structure to society, one where people who elect not to educate themselves or strive get to do the shitty work. But work you must! Contribute to the overall progress of the greater good you shall. You labor because you strive within yourself for a better life. We are proud.

There is only one road that goes the other way, and if you walk it you should be exterminated. There is no room for your kind in our world. But really, it’s not even our world anymore. They have beat us in the population game, the most important and potentially influential game of all. We lost it. Smart is on the road to extinction, and stupidity (without calamity) will prevail. This makes you wish for disaster, just so the scales might be balanced, or close enough to give the game another try. But now it’s hopeless. Now I pray to my heathen god lord for there to be a plague, or a famine and all you fat fucks in the south will have to go without your double chocolate dipped bacon flavored lollipop. OH LORD, YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! THEY’LL BE EATING EACH OTHER IF WE DON’T GET THEM SOME FUCKING PORK RINDS AND FAST!!! Fuck you idiots, you really ruined it. Fucking retards. Enjoy your waffle time.

We danced in the starlight.

She held me.

Shattering white moon breach the sky

and we just danced away

onto the fragrant fall air

never to be seen again.

When I hold you hand–

when I steal a kiss

I smile

I know you’ve come true, dream girl.

I see myself, full of woe

Just a few years ago…

young and vital, but alone

sad

I made you up, dream girl.

I invented you, and wrote my poems to you

My words, they went to you

sent on thoughts of longing

Alone, I needed you

Cherished my songs to you

but today

you are here

walking with me

laughing with me

kissing under the stars at night.

you came true dream girl

You are true

and I wrote this for you

This little song of my love

May it remind you

How blessed I feel

To see you smile.

Peace.

Right now, we are all moving about 67,000 miles an hour, on a big hot rock spinning around the sun. Does that make you stop and think? You’re just a bug on a rock. That’s all you really are. You are as easily extinguished by the forces of the universe, if desired. Just ask the dinosaurs. You think your little privileged life is so fucking important? In one second, a meteor the size of a house could put an end to your way of life, and you would be just as fucking restarted then as you are now, after not seeing the point in writing any of this. Your life is probably locked on the surface, staring down at the ground like its flat or something.

If the Earth is moving about 28 miles a second, then how fast is light by comparison? Light moves at close to 185,000 miles a second. DO YOU GET HOW MUCH FASTER THAT IS? We can’t even come close to making an object travel that fast. Even if we did, it would still take over a year to reach the nearest star to our sun. Who knows how much farther we’d need to travel to meet someone else. Probably farther than will ever be possible before something bad happens to us on the surface and we have to start over again. You are alone. We are alone. From the beginning, we have been so scared to look up and realize our aloneness. God? Just hanging out, watching? Who fucking cares? You are one of the flock if you think the sky and Jesus have the answers. And by flock I mean sheep headed for the slaughterhouse. You are going to be my dinner. You retards. Your children will be food for larger predators.

Don’t you get how important your life becomes now? Do you see why you are special? I shouldn’t have to tell you, the edges of the shape have been made clear; now tell me what it is. Or don’t. Read this, be slightly confused, and disregard it as more crap that BiPolar guy wrote. Either way, I come out ahead.

Groping for the sun

Aching everyday

For light

Slowly writhing

Bending, breaking

Growing.

Canopy of birds

Smile through green teeth

Dabbled patterns–

On leaftop houses

For smaller things.

Crunching in dry heat

crisp crack of lifeless shell

underfoot tromping

through memory days

of fall.

Storms swell north

soon, it will rain

and we’ll be free again.

You are no match for this. Pure, unadulterated evil. I am filled with pure evil inside me. It’s who I am. Pure evil. Rotten. Stagnant. Eating itself with hatred, recoiling in horror. I hate this existence. And yet, I pound the pills and smoke the herb to try and combat the symptoms. I still fight it? And for what? So i can have an episode like this one? This catastrophe of hatred that has laid waste my life, damaged my family… what more?

My advice to you is this: Run if you are afraid. I don’t need you. Your fear is just what my evil needs from you to exploit and damage you in some way. Which I will do, given time. I will attack you when critically depressed, and traumatize you in some horrible fassion. Just keep giving me your fear, your contempt, your whatever. Feed me. I will rip you apart.

If you are one of the unfortunate few bound to me by familial obligation, I pity you. For you will have no choice but to put up with my bullshit for the rest of your life. And every day will be a new war with my symptoms, a new fight to be fought. Every single fucking day. Get used to it. I’m fucking fucked up, ok. In the head, forever. Forever. FOREVER. Get it? Love me still? Not even I do.

Sad. In 50 years, they’ll just kill people with this disorder, or correct it permanantly. Or whatever. This disease is fleeting in our history, but I get to be one of the 3% or whatever that has it. FUCK YOU. My life is torment. My struggles over BASIC SHIT are ridiculous, and a sham. I’m basically retarded. I can’t do simple fucking things. I ALMOST CERTIANLY WILL FUCK IT UP. Whatever it is, whenever. I have done nothing but disappoint people since the day I was aware enough to make my own choices. I have utterly failed at life. I have demolished another awesome relationship with my fucked up disorder. I have damaged more people in my wake of destruction. I am an absolute idiot, and the worst, most dangerous person you know.

So basically, this blog is a big FUCK YOU to whoever happens to be reading it. Get it? I am driving you away too. Because I don’t want you in my life anymore.

You are not strong enough, or wise enough to love me for what little there is to love. And I mean, little. Second, you are scared, and this will make things worse for you. My disorder is a predatory animal, and boy do I know when you’re scared. I will go right for your fucking throat, every time. If I can smell your fear, I will fucking kill you.

However, despite all this, you can spare yourself a lot of trouble by pointing at me and uttering the following sentence: “you’re BiPolar and fucking crazy, and I’m not taking you seriously anymore.”

If all else fails, the predator can’t get its job done without any teeth. So kick me in the mouth, so to speak.

“God damn it Westin, you’re so crazy when you’re depressed. Do you need a hug? I’m so sorry you feel this bad… boy you sure do say some poopy things when you get depressed.”

If only it were that easy. Truth be told, I’m a fuck head. And I make this a whole lot harder. I’m scared. I don’t know what sort of future I have, as this mentally ill guy trying to get by… but I’m trying. I’m not just surrendering. I’m giving a shit, I’m pushing. Sometimes, the depression wins though, and I lose control. Please forgive me; I’m a broken man, a toothless predator… I’m just trying to have reasons to go on doing my life, and making it worthwhile. Forgive me.

Maybe someone in your life fits the archetype of worm, perhaps not. I know this person exists in the real world, driving next to me on the freeway, texting and not paying attention to what worm should be doing. Worm has reckless abandon for personal wellbeing, and demonstrates this through some major gaping flaw that is clear to everyone but worm. Worm has failed, but not learned anything. Worm is completely satisfied with being average, unnoticed, unexceptional and lame. Worm has nothing going for it. Worm barley makes it day to day, or, doesn’t make it at all because someone else pays worm’s way through life.  Friends, government aid programs, whatever, all come to worm’s rescue, repeatedly. And repeatedly, worm needs more help, but worm does nothing for itself in the meantime. Worm lives on borrowed time, but has no sense of urgency about that. Worm takes, and feels no guilt or obligation. Worm is contented easily, and therefore, can survive in a parasitic way, and still maintain that it leads a happy life. Or, a good life… or something equivalent.

By now, most of you normal people are going: yeah, I know at least one person like that, maybe two or more, just depends on who you hang with. Anyone with half a mind might be going: Hey Bailey, this sounds a lot like you, this worm character… similar, but not the same. You would be correct, this is a little like me, and this is why I desire so badly to change my life, and that I work every day to make sure I do that. I defend myself rightly, because unlike worm, most of the time, I’m looking to be a better, functional me. I still make my fair share of mistakes, but fuck, at least I take something worthwhile from it all.

I’m really writing about worm because I want to bring to your attention the fact that you help sustain worm’s existence, and worm depends on your continuing pity, or whatever you feed it.  Worm needs you, but you do not need worm. You, through your complacency and lack of care for worm have allowed worm to exist in a purgatory of recognition, a shameful state where you are unclear even how to mention worm to your friends, for worm embarrass you. To your core, you believe worm is a good person, and perhaps that is true, but worm has taken too much, and wasted everyone’s time. Your valuable, precious, fleeting time, wasted on worm? Why? Please, just think about it for a minute, what has worm really done for you? Has worm been able to return on the investment of your precious time, energy or love? Worm probably fits into some shape like what I’ve described here, and if you have a worm in your life, I say cast it off. Be rid of it. Cut off your worm. Let it die because of lack of energy, or, let it go find another host, which it will try to do. Your time is too valuable to be wasted on worm, but yet, you do it anyway. Is it nostalgia, memory or both? What keeps you hooked pilgrim? I venture that you have some fucking stupid reason why your worm deserves to feed off your life, but then again, maybe reading about worm has made you realize that worm is an idiot, and should go waste someone else’s time. I hope this has been helpful. Direct yourself towards a better life, people, let not the worm drag you down.

Participation in the economy and society is critical to the success of our country. We need, all of us, to believe in the economy, and trust it, because we have nothing of substantial value to reckon with the sheer volume of money out there. As long as people continue to believe money has value, we’ll be ok. But as the economy falters, and the warning signs of downfall become apparent, the dollar will become worthless. What is it good for if no one believes it is worth anything? Why has it come to that?

Because the people of this country are rapidly losing faith that their hard work amounts to something of value. Right now, people work; pay that money they earned to others for the services and essentials of life. Soon, that person is working only to sustain the key elements of survival, which come at the cost of continued, unending labor. I don’t think people like to work just to pay their bills and survive. Right now, some people are living a cushy, paid-for life. They are taking more and more, making more middle class people into these pay-for-life serfs. How do you expect to have freedom, liberty and the right to pursue your dreams when your starting point is so hopelessly far from that ideal that you have no hope of getting there? The institution of this country is designed to keep you in the bottom rung of society. You are a peon, working for other’s enjoyment. The more people that realize that this is indeed what is happening to them, there will be problems.

Participation in the system will fall off, and the economy will lose the artificial value we have assigned to it. People without skills or people that rely on the services provided by others (me) will be the first to die. Lots of lower class people will die during this time, because money will stop, government will retract responsibility for feeding the destitute, and chaos will ensue. Looting, violence will kill some, but once the food is gone, the people who rely on the institution for life will be cut off.

This happens on this planet every so often, do we recall when nearly a third of Europe died in the Plague? We get a big reminder not to overpopulate, and not to spread like a virus throughout our host. Lots of people will die of starvation. We are headed to a place where your practical building, foraging and hunting skills will be useful. Learn to catch fish. You will need the skill. People, I am clearly not the best articulator of warning, but seriously, bad things are happening, and more bad things are going to happen. Please heed this warning and bond with your loved ones, do not let them out of your sight in the coming days. The system is rotten, and its putrid stink is filling the air. We can all smell it, please, don’t deny it. Just be prepared, for the day is coming. We will all be tested.

It’s not a blessing, these symptoms. Just ask Em. I can be brilliant sometimes, and at other moments, deranged. I can soothe, and castigate at a moments notice. I have a divided personality in which my anger, contempt and hatred for things does consistently dwell. We have come to call it “Shadow Westin.” See? This is fucked up. People shouldn’t have to explain themselves in terms of their good side versus their mentally ill side. Why are we still in the dark ages on this issue? Maybe I will never see technology get to the point where we can be free of this fucking sickness. Whatever it may be. I’m not saying “just cure BiPolar, and I’ll be happy.” Rather, I’d say that we should eliminate ALL genetically inherited disorders. No more kids born with crippling diseases. No more shortened lifespans. I dream. But this world is one based on exploitation, not of beneficence. We are out to fuck each other. No one is working for the greater good of humanity, we’re infighting. Fucking aliens must have flown by this place and laughed their asses off. “Look at those monkeys down there eating each other. Fucking idiots.”

I wonder about my future, our future. Where are we headed? Why is this part of our history so fucking lame? Are we all going to get wiped out my natural disasters? We take it for granted, how fragile human life on this planet really is. The planet is going to be fine, tree-huggers… seriously. WE are not going to be fine, however. humans have a pretty narrow acceptable climate range. If we manage to have that component get fucked up, we die. All of us. Don’t you see how narrowly you escape death, every day? That should give you some appreciation of your time in reality, I expect. I know it has done this for me. To think that I have a chance to really see the development of a species, on their way to who knows where. We’ve been growing for tens of thousands of years, and yet, we have so far to go. There is no doubt of that. We’re struggling to make progress, but it is happening, as the old die, new ideas come to be the norms. We observe the deterioration of traditional beliefs. Soon, we’ll be really different. And none of us are ever going to see it. We just have to believe it’s going to happen. We are going to evolve, change, unite. We have to. It’s the only way to survive out here, on our own. We are not one planet yet, but someday, I think we’ll get it.

What the fuck does this have to do with BiPolar? I’m rare, people. My kind will go extinct in the future, because NO ONE will be born with this shitty disorder in the distant future. They will just terminate the fetus before it develops, first, then in the WAY distant future, they’ll be able to genetically modify genes and find the ideal match with your partner that creates a person who is born free of random genetic disease. I long for a day when people don’t have to suffer, when treating BiPolar is done without harsh brain medications that make you throw up every few mornings. I hope we figure it out, and I really do hope they wipe us out. BiPolar is fucking stupid, and of all the “neat” things I have attributed to BiPolar, I would give them all up just to be rid of it. I’d rather be a boring ass motherfucker than have this disease any more.

I can’t see the future. But do I really want to sit here and tell you that there is no hope for us? Of course not, I don’t even believe that. I do believe it will take something HUGE to get us all to come together. Something that affects us all, no matter what culture, religion, any crap that currently keeps us apart. We will come together someday, and work towards a humanity that is, for lack of a better word, perfect. Mark my words, cyberspace, I’m not often wrong about this shit. Though, unless any of you plan to be alive another thousand years or so, I’ll not find out how well my predictions turn out.

Remember.

She, shattered
Full in lament
Deepening the misunderstanding
Stranded on a thin line
Between fire and ice

Inside somewhere there are tears
Heat in my eyes
You could never know
But you try…
And I love you for that

I’ve given my light
All pieces of the sky
I painted rooms,
Opened windows to the outside.
I look out dreaming
Seeing you
Forever

What mystery binds us
Completeness,
For each other
Of the same make
However we tie our twine
We are going there together

Wipe away those tears,
We have adventures afoot.

Little people are marching on my itchy feet

The barrel is about to run dry

That’s ok though

Life is really going on

Everywhere you look, turning poppies in the sun

Paw-prints in the dust window

The delicate sounds of new nature

This is a life shade of hue unknown perviously

Forever altering the landscape of the world before.

Good day rabble, cast up your senses to the sky and behold! The time of revolution is nigh. Things are colliding, twisting, turning. Dreams are breaking and not coming true. That’s the ever altering ebb and flow of the  life-time continuum. Dark night filled with amazing moonlight tricks me into waking up far too early. Mischievous cat no longer afraid of its new environments demand constant attention. The morning watering has been so beautiful, the chickens come to see me. I feed them to reenforce their need for me. I do it out of admiration mostly, and a fascination with life that has forever sculpted the way I tend to do things. I cast out the old forever, and I have made my bed with a new bird, in a far off nest.

I do not regret. I transform. I am happy to say things have been good. Overall, we are riding in the clouds, scraping the sky with our fingers. I feel like a “fighter jet made out of biceps.” Rock on hardcore people. Your lives have meaning, keep living them. Never surrender to gravity. Never give in. I can’t. I live for the hunt.

By the end I’ve come back to the drippings of a narrative, as you can see. My master craft of the language borders on the abstract, but that’s good, because abstract is totally original in my opinion. At least, my variety is. I want to give some love to Em’s blog. She is using the internet much in the same way I have been, for a personal release of the worries, stresses and anxieties of life. A place to send thoughts out into the ether, hoping to be sniffed. Something like that. Anyway, if you enjoy my writing, you’ll enjoy her narratives.

Thanks for reading today’s latest’s chapter in the life and times of the Chewy, as I am known by one.

Peace be with you.

She dwells in a pale soup of tasty
The monarchs have no sway here
The corpus and all that Latin shit should be thrown out.
Put it in the tub and let the bubbles go to work on it.

There is no excuse for not writing about our love in my suspenders.
The greatest in life is to love in profound deep and squishy levels.
Soggy papers illegible.

I can breathe out of one nostril improvement. Gaining ground on the incremental budgie of time. That’s a bunch of crap! Crap I say!!!

Don’t eat that juice. Despite it’s nutrients.

Time to get out and towel off. Bazam! I wasn’t going for anything other than bazam. Damnit. Curse you iPhone.

Bai.

Big roots bite deep

Trunk thick

Sky

When I love you

The sun shadow

Speckled sidewalks

I could dance

Leap into the air

With joy

I do

I rain

I quench the thirst of the Earth

Pouring out

Into you

Is this real?

Shining stars

Hold my hands

Heart

Boughs

Hanging over us

Swaying in the breeze

Climb

Or about then,

Way down on the low-grind

She went up to the coop,

Got funky when he broke it

Both went tripping

Then up in my space

I said: naw, I’m good

But they brought it anyhow

Now I’m real even

Seven steps on the road to Jesus

I broke into a straight up sweat

And my roof came on in

When I saw you

Then it got real fast

Hot as that hot ass shit–

She been bringin

Everything blowing up

Bang BANG BANG

Then it was real chill

Shh

We sleepin

I have come here to inform you of two things: first, you are not in control of anyone else. Second, you should be more mindful of what you have. The only thing you can actually control are your own actions, not how others deal with them. Knowing this should lift a great burden of worry from you. If you can’t control it STOP WORRYING ABOUT IT. Just do what you can do from within yourself, and let the world sort out the response. After you have gone through that, think about what the word “home” means to you.

My home is where I’m safe, loved and happy. I don’t particularly care what form of shelter I inhabit, i just need a roof, a bed, food, the essentials. Where is your home? Do you feel loved there? Do you even have one?

I don’t take this very literally. Home is where i am with the people I love, regardless of circumstance. I find that in this world, so full of ups and downs, drama and boredom, you have to hold on to what matters. If you’ve found someone in this world worth holding on to, just don’t let them go. What sort of message are you telling yourself: “Wow, this person is really great and I love them, but naw.”

Don’t be an idiot. Do the right thing and love, cherish and protect your family. Again, don’t get too literal. Family is what you want it to be. Find a home there, somewhere buried in yourself, your love, your world. This is not idealistic crap. This is a foolproof way to avoid the pain of life’s random destruction.

We’re going to lose our house. We’re out of here by August 1. Life turned over and stripped my parents of their house, but they did not ever doubt that they would find a home. Because as me Daddo said: “The party is going to be wherever we are.”

People. I’m trying to do you a favor. Life and the passage of time will not grant you this consolation. you will be judged, punished and remanded to the authoritah! Don’t let this happen. Find a home that can go wherever you go, and make a family out of the people who really matter. You may have to exile some, but DO IT. Bad influences are bad, just get rid of them. Be callous. It is how you’re going to learn to survive out here.

Don’t be a trampled corpse. Get up and fight. NOW. Can you hear me?

“Home is wherever I’m with you.”

August 6th 2009. I was married, miserable, and pretty sure that’s how it was supposed to go. Hey, all couples fight from time to time. Thus, my life made sense. I could keep hiding from reality. Nested in my little lie. I’m sad for Wes at that time. He didn’t deserve the treatment he got.

Now things are moving along. Many hundreds of days later, here I am. Am I fundamentally different? Has this blog transformed my soul? What am I hoping to feel here?

I guess I want to feel like I don’t need my blog to be a place where I vent. I want it to become my creative outlet. A place where I can share the special gift of being me.

I don’t have much more to say. Its a nice day. Sun is shiny, wind is blowing. Good stuff. Take luck bloggypeeps. I’ll see you later.

Don’t cry
My love
I am around you
With arms, hands
Tender blushing pilgrims meet.
Eyes close relaxed
Sigh into me
Let me have your breath

I let boughs bend
Let sleep take me
Somewhere enmeshed–
Where the lines
Of you and I
Fade.

Purple clouds
Dreaming dreaming,
Hold me tight–
We are about to fall.

Honey, sweet tender. Looking up looking down. I’m laughing in green fields; we hold hands in the autumn. I stay very still, like a dream, holding on tight. Hands through her hair, mine, everywhere motion. Whispered perfect touches. Kiss me now. Take flight in my arms as we go up to the top of the sky never looking down. Feel the crisp unblemished stars align for you. A radiant sun burns down through the storm clouds, like the patches of brown near your iris. I marvel. I stumble. I fall.

The animal nature unimpeded towards a future of random chance. It pains me to ponder, every breath we take together is precious. Every moment without her is imperfect. The nectar of the flower had been drunk. He misses her.

The shock. The way lightning travels through the splintering sky towards the ground. I feel the thump of thunder humming in my chest. Like the voice of love. Like the song of my heart.

A dozen sunny days. Neutrality. The sand on my lips. Coconut. Run. Grass. Gone.

I take her breath into me. Share. This moment hanging on the edge of current. Time pushes us on forward, calculating as we go, trying not to slam into things. Take away the tumultuous journey through the columns of cold resistance. Take me away from this place.

Dream when the wind reminds you of me. Make me be there, present for you, the echo of who I am through your heart. When I see you in my dreams, I don’t have the words. Lost in the downward turning world, braking hard on the rocks; the shore of reality. None of these places scare me anymore.

Since I loved you, everything has come alive again. I ate a flower for you. On the edge of my surreal dreams the world spins colors. I dance, I sleep.

Hands on me–
Wildfire
Run the thicket
Under
Hot breath
Yes

Sleep
Moonlight
Ground me–
I’m floating away
In love balloons

Dancer
Starline
Grace
Fold
True
You

River sounds
Waterfall
Run through me
Be in me
Be mine
Time

Still coming
Laughter
Days, nights
Autumn, winter
Hold me.
My love
Forever

Through the mire of the internet, she saw someone who captured her interest. She boldly placed an unclear and far too brief message to him in the form of a suggestive “hey.” To be more precise: “hey, me too kid.” Westin was confused, but very interested. He had a good feeling about this one.

So he responded with curiosity, and she complied with explanation. Then they traded anecdotes, experiences, issues. In a few days, they were already feeling each other out as individuals. Westin was bold, so he offered to meet her, even if his answers to some of those match questions were just ridiculous. She was cautious, but eh, what did she have to lose?

So they talked more, and he eagerly awaited the day when they would meet.

And when they did, there was sparkage.

They talked and walked around the park for hours. They luxuriated in the afternoon sun, and the good company of a new friend. The day dwindled, and he held her. Then he had to go home.

Twitterpated, they arranged to meet in one day. He knew something was happening, but the full scale of it was not clear. She had come from nowhere and bloomed in his life. She was exactly what he was looking for. How could this be? How could he feel so strongly for her at first sight?

He asked her if she would be his, and she said yes.

When they were together again, he asked her very softly if he could kiss her. She agreed. He melted into some unrecognizable goo. He had found something real, potent, unbelievable. It was here, alive in his world, asking very nicely to be a part of it.

He asked her to meet his family, which she did, bravely, boldly. On only a few hours time, she had been asked to fall in to place, and she did. As though she were eager to do it. I recall my dad saying something like: “most women would have been mad at you for leaving them with strangers at a funeral, but she was totally cool.”

You’re great, and I’m pretty damn sure I’m going to keep you.

When people ask us how we met, I’m going to tell them that we fell in love at first sight, because that’s what’s happened to me. I adore you, and I am going to be the greatest most amazing tubular rad influence on your life ever. Serious.

Raindrops on hot sweat

Tender moan

Fleeting

Chancing to strike

Kindling spark

A catch

A grip–

and now.

Return

Pathways collide

Fuse

Sand

Glass

Hiss of winds

Ozone electric night.

On the air she sings

her notes trail off

into warm memories

I miss you.

See how this could be like candy for my brain? Huh, you want to fit perfectly into my life and love me forever? oksurewhynot.

I don’t know how much I have to say, I’m sort of beyond words. I’m blissfully content, and driven to be stronger, faster better. All that good shit is bubbling up out of me and demanding my attention. I don’t mind. I think it’s pretty healthy that two people make each other want to be better people for their own sakes? I mean right?

“Don’t fight it, don’t fight it. It’ll do your heart so good.”

Music is playing all the time, and I just want to dance to it. Jump up and down and scream at the top of my lungs so the whole world can hear how good you make me feel. I can’t imagine not spending my time with you. Why would I be happy doing something alone, when I can do the same thing with you and have it be a thousand times more better? NARG? Is there even a debate anymore?

I’ve fallen.

Not scared. Not weary, but sprinting there practically. Onward ho! Some would exclaim. I feel a great sense of pride in myself, my life, and my future. I can’t wait to see myself grow and change. I know the days are numbered now. I’m looking forward to our next meeting, but for now, adieu.

“I will see you again, but not yet. Not yet.”

On to something new. My girl. I just found her, or rather, she found me. Then we met, and there was an explosion of “wow, oh my god, holy crap you’re amazing!” And we started. I asked her to be mine, and she said that she would love to be. And now I don’t really want for anything but her company, her love, her… everything. She’s dancing in the moonlight with me in my dreams. She’s smiling at me and I see that she loves. Deeply, truly, and wants nothing more than to be loved and understood. Boy do I ever get that.

So, you’re all wondering: why is he getting carried away AGAIN. He did this last time and he got his heart broken. He did this the time before that and got his heart broken even worse. Why risk it again?

I know this time, that something is different. She’s a different woman. Real, here, hard working, hard loving. And a person I can imagine myself loving for a very long time. I don’t need to dream anymore, because she waltzed into my world without circumstance and without prerogative. She sees me, and loves what she sees. That feels totally amazing.

I am going to fall for you now. I’m going to take the brakes off and let the thing roll downhill. I want to; because I know you are worth it. 100% worth every ounce of energy I put in. You are the most sensationally complete person I have met. I look into you, and I see no place where I will compromise who I am. I see myself as an individual, who will love you, and who you will love, for being an individual.

Pride. I feel so proud that I got picked. Out of all the men you could have, which are many, you chose me. I am blessed for that; I feel anointed. Special. Perfect. I am your boy. Take me on a ride with you for the rest of our lives. Let’s play, run, work and love until we can take no more. Sound like a plan?

Drunk on eyes
Layers deep,
Casting shadows
Holding hands,
Moonlight.

Tired shaky eyes
Soft palm skin
Smile now

Sound ricocheting from tree to tree, echoing on into changing noises from far away. Once it started, no one knew where it came from. Like vines that coil and slither around every tall place of memory and bend they touch everything with sounds.

Eyes, with acceleration grew stiff and painful with cold. But that did not stop the motion, continuing, destined, destined. The snow is a traitor.

Other creatures are avoiding, leaping into higher branches looking down, suddenly attentive. How long have they seen the course traced like a artery in the forest, life surging, pulsing downhill; pressure? Time and time again.

How they cackle; their moans and whimpers and cries sting the ears like frostbite! All around, no direction to be discerned. Coming from everywhere and nowhere: fear makes the heart burn with a mad-fire faster than wings. Everyone stops to watch the thing already seen. Knowing and telling the tale before it’s told. Breathing and hungry lungs ripping the silence. Eyes above. Running like a panic steel-cold pellets deep in the flesh screaming faster now!

The feet keep moving, moving with calculated motion, muscles flexing, contracting, springing ahead again again. Little nose burning with jagged ice tearing at every drink of cold clear future.

Streaking like the sun in shattered clouds shining bright with life. Little cinders burn and crackle when air runs over them.

Don’t look back! Back is the trick where all hope is lost!

It would be doom. Witnesses always tell the tale much greater, embellishments or not, it was still the wrong thing to do. Fear had posed the dare, but it would not be taken. Everyone was watching.

Riding high, running with the spirits and the wind and the spirits of the wind and the hands that cradle and lift into the sky push along tired shoulders the way the Hawks fly.

Swerving; each placement and then the next perfect, everyone knew the path but even that could be tricky, unless; knowing just where to put every step along the way. Grip. Trunk. Cough. Dirt. Snow. Back. And  moving. Couldn’t help it. Got scared. Still going though, didn’t think about the rest. Little scary things went creepy creepy into still calm waters: thoughts in concentration: hiding. Now everything had ripples, what if what if? Now there was doubt.

Alarm alarm! The birds in the trees let the whole world know what it already knew if it listened.

Sounds underfoot went a long way in the ground. The birds could never understand that.

Broken hollow, or other empty space? They went zooming by. Chances. No, no. The changing breeze that ran like squirrels on trees went through and through and spoke only of unfamiliar places. Not there yet but soon.

Jolt! Like sky fire at night their sounds were near! Here! All throughout everyone still seemed to be watching. Sound broke the silent place but only some would really see the course winding swiftly through the towers they touched the sky. Behind the veil that shrouded light and day gray watching watching watching.

A finger tracing the line in the soft fresh snow that led the way towards home. Hanging over, sheltering little frail bodies from the shivering when it comes down all day. All creatures stopped their moments for this, one.

What if there were a better, faster, newer way? Remembering then that no one ever came back who had a better way to go. That story was never told. Maybe never by anyone? Distracted. The body felt light, Head swimming with dizzy thoughts. Snow falling off trees and clumping on the ground, down into streams and rivers every season. When it rains the plants grow. Sometimes, it all dries up and sometimes it all burns down. Over and over.

Everything and everyone: they are just fragments; the pieces of life coalescing, breaking, reforming. Time and time again. A cycle; like the breath of the earth coming up in the morning when it’s still cold. Steam. Clouds. Rain. Dry. Salt and stone crushing with great strain and time, breaking, grinding, aching. Deep underneath things boil. It went down and comes back up again like bubbles in a hot spring; they popped at the top they flatten out calm again. Soil: after many feet knew them, used them, water comes to wash it all away, goes down again. Listening to the ground would tell the tale. They listen well. The pieces of life touching deep roots, drink sky. Stories. Time and time again.

Keen eyes in the bush with the sun going down behind the black clouds. Everyone watching. Trees take breaths, their tears, maybe sad; sap runs down their cheeks so slow only other plants could see. It must be pain to see all the same over and over, all the outcomes, and nothing to do but stand and watch and cry. A crust of ice all over everything. It is too cold for fears. Moments happen. The smells change; something known before. The steps were getting easier now.

Pulled-back, like breaking the sky in pieces when the storms come, with no resistance, tearing through the belly of the woods.

Destined, destined.

Snowfall continues on through the evening coating the ground in something soft and wet and cold but peaceful. All over arms that reach the sun and falling to the ground in quiet grunts. The flex and tear of muscles burning with radiant fire and crying for release. Dew on the skin was ice in a second. And ember burning brightly in the darkness.

The brown place of safety within sight, moments moments. Every instant: agony. Muscles, skin and bone. Black and silent. Birds and trees.

People are deep. They keep themselves locked into little hidden compartments, where the baggage of the past is stowed. If I had a shred of sense, I might have sensed that the whole situation was fucked. In fact, I recall feeling all ripped to little bits by this whole thing, while it was happening. It didn’t matter though. I fell in love. And sex with someone you really love and care for is like the best thing in the world ever. So I had that for a while.

When it slowly died, I told myself this was never going to happen again. I had my chance at love and I blew it. Or some such crap. In reality, I pried a troubled woman away from her obese, delinquent husband. The troubled woman grew more troubled, and the boy who just wanted to be loved got all fucking smashed into the floor. Life is unrelentingly hard sometimes. Maybe it was my own dumb fault for sticking my dick where it didn’t belong. I, at the time, was overcome by lust and love. Not an excuse, but an admission.

Now, I’m stuck. I’m in a place now where if I keep looking for love-based relationships, I’m going to have a broken heart every once and a while when it does not work out. But what is my alternative? One night stands until I die? I can’t do polygamous relationships, it’s so fucking wrong. My brain can’t do it. I just want to love one woman, forever. I want to anoint her, hold her, promise to her and fulfill. I want all these unrealistic things. I seek it. Love, respect, partnership. I’ve wanted to take the lead, but been told not to. Well, now fuck that. I’m a man, and I’m going to take the initiative and drive this relationship.  If there ever is one.

Alas, I’m mired in my own predicament. I’m puzzled, because what I ultimately want is what no one else seems to want. Everyone looks at me like I’m from fucking Mars when I tell them I’m in this for love. “What are you an idiot? Or worse, romantic?”

My resolution: NOT TO COMPROMISE WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR. I will keep looking for my ‘one’ and she hopefully is doing the same. I’m getting kinda tired of looking, but I won’t stop until I find her. I’ve been looking since I had the mind to do it. I’m not about to give up now.

So thanks for hearing my confessions about my desires. I really do want to love someone, passionately, deeply, truly. I hope you’re out there somewhere.

We bury our dead, because we remember who they were. We loved who they were. They are torn away from life and we have a hard time understanding that. What does it mean to die? We all have to do it; it’s a part of the process of life. That’s why I am never surprised about death. It takes us, randomly, incoherently, indiscriminately. It is ever a part of existing, and the very things we do, whether we think about it or not, could end us. It could be our last moment, and death could be lurking behind some unknown circumstance. I can’t understand then, why death surprises you. It is always there, all around. It’s taking members of your tribe, and you all know it. You all feel the sting of one less hunter, one less soldier… it activates the primal.

We mourn, but I contend that we do this and then celebrate. Because what is life? This fleeting moment, this random second where you are alive, expanding on the bubble of time. You are riding the wave of the future through life, and you should be grateful for each moment that you live. Because instantly, you can be ripped from it. Forever.

We should celebrate when our tribesmen die. They die, but we live, whether they died for us or not, they died and we remain. We miss them, every day, but that memory we have of them never fades, never really dies, and carries on the echo of the person who once lived, and now lives on in memory. A unique place in the minds and imaginations of others. It is the best we can do, to honor you.

We die, and there is no reason or purpose, we just die. Randomly. Painfully. There is no reunion in heaven, no “silver lining.” It’s bullshit. Death is unavoidable, and should be respected as the great anti-force that counters our life. It is the end. So appreciate joy, while you live to experience it. Heaven is not waiting for you to reunite you with the loves lost. They are lost forever. They will not come back. It’s over.

I don’t say this to be mean. I just want to be clear. I don’t believe in magic. I don’t believe in any other crazy shit that promises something impossible, like eternal life beyond death. It’s such bullshit. Cope with your loss, don’t pretend you’re going to see them again. You’re not going to see them again, ever. And when you die, you will vanish in to the cold black still of death.  And we will  miss you, and celebrate your life. We will, in your memory.

Let those you love live on in your mind, where you can meet how you felt about them as often as you want. Don’t promise me something insane. Just help me deal with death.

You have been so very kind in your patience. For you see, I have put you to the test, blathering on and on about how romantically mushafied I got. I owe you an apology for this, at least. I am sorry. I would also ask for your forgiveness.

Now, if I may get this caravan back in the proper heading: we need to talk about something pressing. All this dilly dallying in the land of happy has caused me to stop and think. What happened to all my training? My years of labored mental conditioning? Truth be told, I wish now I had put myself through some scenarios… or at least given the thing some thought. Let’s see, you haven’t been fond of a woman in 2 years, and now you just want to dive right in? Do you see how worked up I got? And for what? Now I have nothing, not even a cup of dirt.

I do need to make notes here, where I stand after calamity has broken upon my Nation. I want everyone to know, we’re going to be just fine. Because we learn. We adapt. We adjust to the changing circumstance, and get wise somehow. Common sense takes over and makes you wonder why the hell you’re doing what you’re doing. Or at least, this has happened for me. The brakes are re-engaged. Perhaps my poorly timed soap opera drama was, in the end the direction I should have gone. Instead of lingering in limbo somewhere as I did. Pretending.

So, again, I’m sorry. I owe you so much more. I need better content, more interesting perspectives, all that conflict-making sort of shit. I need to roll the dice a bit and see what happens. Bear with me while I drift somewhere between poetry and verse. I like that style, and it seems to be uniquely me. Maybe I will post a story I wrote a few years ago… another time.

I’m back. I promise. I won’t leave you high and dry next time, and I certainly won’t subject you to my random emotional storms any further.

There. Barf on the page. I’ve said dozens of such words, and I am left feeling proud of myself for not being your bitch boy anymore. I am so much more amazing than you will ever realize, and someone really lucky will find out someday. I will keep looking for someone more worthy of my love, someone who won’t use it to play me. I have confidence. I have hope.

God we said a lot of things. Thing I meant. Things you just said because they were words and you could care less what they mean. Things that lead me to believe we could love each other, but now, things I know were worthless. Hey Eric, is this your fist time being played? Why yes, it is. And this might also explain my tantrum and this letter. I won’t be making a similar mistake.

I don’t want you in my life anymore.

I am free. I can go about my life without feeling ripped up and confused by your actions. I can find someone who will show me respect and love. I believe in that, and my journey through life to find it continues.

Ladies of the blogosphere: I am a poet, a weatherman, an historian or your friend. I have such wonderful things to give, if you are ready. In my years of looking, I have not found you, but I will. We will find each other when the time is right.

Open doors
With wind through the drapes
Scatters her
Taken.
Hot summer sky
Nightbirds,
Whispered through wet skin–
Hair in knots
Tossed with glee

Laughter.
Dancing sunset on the mire–
Goodnight fancy
It flys away
When the day is new.

I’m strong enough to stand on my own, but standing next to someone was so nice. It really was. But now I see the disadvantages. Mostly, I’m not ready. I can’t handle my emotions at all anymore, and this is troubling. Time to eject.

Into some obscure distance I would like to fade. Detachment imminent commander. I have little desire to invest energy into a lost cause. Which, ultimately, it is.

So, I’m going to point my nose a new direction, and work from there. I’ve got shit going on right now. A job maybe? We’ll see. I have a life to live, and whatnot. I can’t be there the way I want to be.

Maybe someday the clouds will part and a better-timed encounter will ensue. I doubt it though. There seems to be no magnetism going the other way. Though, we’ll see what my imminent withdrawal has to do about that. Flushing Pheasants from the grass. Bang.

I’ve taken my drama out on my family, which sucks. They don’t deserve my crap.

Government policy mandates a change, so here we are, changing somehow. Why would I want to go back? There is no future there, just a lot of being the fifth wheel. Not good, IMHO.

My fellow citizens of the Nation of Eric, tonight and for our future, we face some unprecedented challenges. We are dealing with the fallout of emotions right now, and there are still many matters of State and foreign affairs to be dealt with. The internal strife we suffer only weakens us as a whole. I hope to bring you, tonight, a vision of what we could be, together. Instead of a Nation divided over the chemical principals of the functioning mind, we should be rallying to face our greater foes that lie within, and without. I want to show you how we can do this great thing, if we can all agree to work together towards the common purpose.

I have heard the rhetoric of the other parties: the Manifest Destiny of the Penis, the Crusades of Love… all these arguments lack sense. If you can look objectively, and think cautiously about the future of our Nation, then I believe you will see, clearly, our only course of action. We have to prepare for the storm of emotions, instead of allowing it to decimate our towns and cost us time, lives and money. We know when emotions are coming, let’s be prepared for it next time. Let’s batten down those hatches, and fasten our seatbelts.

Our Nation is proud, and has stood the test of time thus far, despite great hardship and woe wrought upon her people. We are a proud Nation of loyal citizens, and I commend each and every one of you for your active participation in out revolutionary government. Without your feedback, we would have little understanding of the practical hardships you face. I want you to know tonight that we hear how badly you have been hurt by this latest emotional development, and want you to rest assured that we are doing everything we can to get your lives back to normal.

I want to talk about our budget for a moment. Because of our improving economy, we can afford a little more freedom in how we spend our money and time. We do still subsidize emotions, but we do this to keep them healthy and active. The recent developments are being reviewed so that we don’t make the same mistake twice. But it’s clear that we have the energy to spend, so we’ve allocated some of it to school, job search, and now recreation. Our healthy economy has allowed us to expand our recreational activities for you, the citizens of this great Nation. Our budget will be fixed here in the coming days, and we will address the abuses to the subsidy system that allowed emotions to get out of control recently. Trust me when I tell you we are doing everything in our power to ensure we have a balanced and logical approach to financing our future.

Finally tonight, I want to propose a call to action: do your part to help make the Nation a better place for us all. Please don’t litter in our public parks, don’t leave food out for the local bears to eat, and don’t do foolish things that get us all into trouble. We have enough problems here in the Nation without having BEARS on our hands. This is just an example of the principal I hope you enjoy. Be respectful of your Nation, and it will reward you. We can all work together to make a brighter future for our children, and the future leaders of this great Nation. Working with the genuine concern for each other that all good families have, I propose the citizens of this great country unite and care for each other. In this way, your concerns are all equal, shared, and respected by your peers, and by your Nation.

Thank you, and God bless the Nation of Eric.

I am really fucking sad to have to do this, but honestly, it would have come to this breaking point in time. You want something I can never be, and I tried to go along and pretend that I could do it, when it is totally against my nature to do so. Because I want you in my life, but now I see that I can’t be who you would like me to be. I can’t be your friend, because I am in love with you. This is natural. When I meet someone who helps me feel this way, I follow where those feelings lead. I’m not going to fake it. Be someone I’m not to make things easier on you. If you have had this problem before, take a look at that. Why? Maybe your expectations are set someplace unattainable. Maybe you just had higher expectations of me and I disappointed you. But even so, I am proud to let you down on this count. I’d rather be who I am than in the position I have been in of late. All ripped to bits inside.

What really kills me is that you couldn’t see anything in me worth loving the same way I loved you. You looked inside me, saw me, and didn’t love me. That’s not a judgment of me, but rather, I was a flavor of ice cream that you do not enjoy… though others may. I don’t think any less of you, or me. I just know that I wasn’t the right fit. I wasn’t what you were looking for. I’m not someone you could ever love, and that is a fact I cannot live with.

I want you. I want to shower you with joy, attention, affection, laughter and all the other good amazing things I can think to throw in there. I want it so badly, but now I see that this will never happen. It’s over. I ended it because I have too much for you.

The sex was really great, but I need emotions there, not just fun. When I made love to you, I did it as someone who cares deeply. You might have seen this as something to do that was fun and nice, but I see it differently. It’s not a question of whether I could “handle it” or not, but rather, we both view sex in contrasting ways. I see it as a chance to bond, you see it as recreation (or something similar).

I wonder what happened… to make this great discrepancy. I see your intuition, and the ability you have for introspection. Then why the disconnect? Where did the cosmic equation go wrong? I wonder what specifically turned you off. Made you look at me and say: huh, there’s someone I will never fall in love with. Ouch, that’s a bad thought. People are so beautiful… and yet we are so scared of each other. We make such amazing things together, but we can’t get it right most of the time.

I sit here, now knowing that I’m probably not going to see you again (unless by some miracle you decide to love me). I can’t help but feel very sad, but at the same time relieved. My heart can finally settle back down into slow atrophy, as the power of the logical mind has ultimately prevailed over desire, lust, foolishness, love. I can’t go on pretending with you. I’m not strong enough to swallow my love. I pretty much choked on it and died in the attempt to do so.

I say my logical mind prevailed, because I did what was, in the long run, better for me. I would have gone on fooling myself into thinking I had some kinda chance with you if I just stayed close, held on for long enough. Maybe then, she would love me? You even told me this, and I just couldn’t believe it.

I don’t know how to end this really. I feel a mixed bag of heartbroken desperation and promise. I have this big well of inner strength that I’ve been slowly tapping in to… it seems like it gets me into a fair bit of trouble as well. I’m not less of a man for having loved you, I am more confident in my ability, after suffering a great heartbreak in divorce, to then come back and fall in love again. I want this, with someone who can appreciate it. I want to call you and come crawling back to the light of your affection, but even then, basking in it, I would be in the same place I was before. All tied up inside, wanting to love you, never able to. We remain much as we began, though, you have given me joy. I thank you forever for that.

Alouicious had long black hair, flowing and rich. His warm skin and tender complexion made him nearly irresistible. His eyes were like deep diving pools filled with blue water. He walked through the corridors of the house, quietly pondering his predicament. You see, Alouicious is locked in a desperate game; one of the heart and the mind. He is grappling with a bizarre love triangle, one that he cannot escape.

Alouicious strode gallantly to the front door, and upon seeing his Veruca, his heart sighed. He felt a flutter when he was with her, because she made him bloom from within. Her light gave him purpose, drive, excitement. He wanted desperately to be something of worth to her, and through time and friendship, he had become beloved. But he couldn’t see that just now. His concerns were more immediate, and foolish.

“Veruca,” he said slowly, taking her hand and kissing it. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you my darling,” she said coyly; chasing eyes darted from here, there, noticing him. She couldn’t help it. But the thoughts were pounded down somewhere small and far away. She continued on without pausing: “I have company…” she trailed off, because now Braylon was in the doorway as well. He was his dignified self as usual, looking so prim and proper. There were many things about Braylon that Alouicious hated, but mostly, it was that she loved him.

“Alouicious,” he said coolly. “What gives us the pleasure of your company?” They had been making love again… the thoughts were quickly purged from his mind. He longed for her embrace, he sweet kisses that he knew would be so tender, so fulfilling.

“I came by to, uh,” he stammered. His thoughts were tumbling over themselves. “I have this…” he held out a pathetic little parcel. It was Veruca’s birthday. “Happy birthday Veruca.”

She was really amazing, he knew. Inside, he could see who she was, and she dazzled him. He wanted nothing more than to spend his time adorning her with love, respect and partnership… but these realities were far from present. He could almost taste the feeling of having it back… after the last time his heart was broken. He was a little scarred, but so beautiful. He wanted to show her.

“You got me something?” Veruca said, her voice full of energy. She snatched the parcel from Alouicious and opened it carefully. “You are so kind for doing this.” She remarked.

“It is my pleasure.” He said. Braylon shot him a terrible glance; for Braylon was not ignorant of the circumstance. He knew Alouicious, the pathetic little cretin, was hot for his woman. Veruca absolutely adored Braylon, and he knew it. He was confident this little worm would have no sway over his relationship. Braylon was a son of a bitch. And he knew it. He was going to ride it for as long as she could take, and then move on.

Veruca unveiled his gift: a prism. She held it to the flickering doorway lamplight, and saw the patters of separated light dance across the walls. The spectrum dazzled her, and she giggled. Braylon was not amused.

“So, a prism. How poetic. Too bad this one’s already decided, or I’d think you were trying to woo Veruca away from me.” He said it with one of those confident chuckles, one that filled Alouicious with eternal rage.

“I am.” He said coldly.

Braylon did a double take. He turned aggressively to Alouicious. “What?”

“I am trying to win her heart, hopefully, away from you.”

“Alouicious!” She exclaimed, clearly not expecting his brutal and cutting honesty. She recognized his folly, long before he would.

“It’s true,” He began dramatically. “I have a great well of love for you that remains unused, unwanted, and not regarded as worth much, but I see how this love I have inside me could light up your world, and mine. What we could be to each other I can’t even begin to imagine, but I know it feels amazing, and I never want to stop.”

“I was really hoping the honesty would stop.” Braylon said angrily.

“I know already.” Veruca said. The words slammed into Alouicious like a bus. Many things were occurring to him then. He kept them to himself.

“So, you really think he can take you away from me?” Braylon exclaimed.

“No, I can’t.” Alouicious said, swallowing hard. “She’s already decided.”

“Yes.” She said. She knew this was killing him inside, but it had to be done. The poor boy couldn’t see the whole picture. He was a risk, to say the least. An emotional risk; the same sort of person she had risked on before, and lost. She was not going to forget the scars of the past so easily. She would not be duped into another relationship like the last one. He was so much like her ex, and yet, so very different.

“I, um,” Alouicious stammered. His heart was dead inside his chest. He had revealed his most powerful weapon, an ultimatum. He wanted her to be forced in to picking one or the other. She picked Braylon. She picked him. “I really need to go. You know what this means. I can’t go on like this. If you can’t love me, I will just have to go.”

“No!” Veruca said, tears in her eyes. “Please, why can’t we go back to the way things were? Please, when we were friends…” She trailed off.

“We were having fun. But I love you. I LOVE you. I can’t get over that. I can’t get past it. As long as I’m here, I’m going to love you with all my heart for as long as I can. I could change your world. You have already changed mine. I can at least thank you for that.”

The words stung her. She had real answers, but no voice to say them. She was all tied up in knots, tangled and torn. Under there she was working it out… slowly. It had been only a short time since, her ex, was with her. She had found Braylon, and he seemed good enough, enough to fall in love with. She could love him, and feel swept away again, taken care of. Alouicious reminded her of the tangles. The parts she couldn’t figure out yet. And it was all too far off and jumbled to make much sense of anyhow. He was an emotional commitment… a serious one. One she would have to change her life around, one that might cause her to lose control. She didn’t like that thought. Maybe she would someday, but he apparently has to have everything right now. His lack of patience displeased her. He was eager, and that was part of what she loved about him. It also was really annoying.

“You’ve put yourself in this position by making your precious love an all-or-nothing engagement. If you really loved me as much as you said you did, why sacrifice all of that over something as trivial as this moment? Don’t you see the big picture?” Veruca was insistent that she be understood.

“Men like me will come and go, but if you really love her, you’ll be committed to her. You’ll keep loving her no matter what, and show her that love is strong, and for you, important enough to commit yourself to.” Braylon added.

“But, you couldn’t control yourself. So now here you are, alone. I hope this is what you prepared yourself for.” Veruca said, as she closed the door on Alouicious.

“It isn’t,” He said, too late. It was over. He walked away from the doorstep, utterly destroyed by himself. Alouicious melted into a puddle of glue, baking and boiling in the sun like hot wax. The film burned up. Black. Fin.

Braylon was a tall man, with brown hair and deep green eyes. He had a rigid jaw, and was cut from the block of masculine perfection. As he threw the door open in passion, he remarked: “I have entered the room.”

“Braylon,” she seductively whispered. “I’ve been waiting here for you.”

“Veruca,” his tone pitching down to hide his emotions. “What a surprise. I figured you’d be off with Jermaine.”

“He’s last week.” She stated coldly. “I grew tired of his infatuation.”

“So, now you’ve come back here, to where it all began.” He said as he looked around the room. The memories were still fresh in his mind.

“Braylon,” She whispered again. “I don’t know what to do, I’m so, so…” she began to weep as her sentence trailed off.

“Come now Veruca,” He said as he rushed to comfort her. “I’m right here. My big strong arms are all around you.”

Veruca nuzzled him softly as she now had his embrace. The sparks of passion were off somewhere behind the door of the factory.

“Braylon,” she said between sniffles. “I’m sorry I’ve led you on this way… I really am. And I’m sorry to call you from London to tell you this…”

Braylon took a great leap back in shock. “What?” He paused, understanding at least in some part, what was to come.  Veruca continued softly:

“We can’t see each other anymore.”

The whole world of Braylon’s heart exploded into a trillion flaming chunks.

“No!” He shouted, holding back the tears.

“Yes!” She began. “I’m sorry it has gone this far. I love you, and I’m terrified of what that means. So instead of having the real experience of knowing and loving you, I’d rather just not deal with you anymore.”

“That doesn’t make sense!” Braylon shouted over his boyish fractured tone. His eyes were wet with the tears of heartbreak. “I can’t go on without you!”

“Spare me. This is MY emotional crisis, not yours. I’m heartbroken too you know.”

“Really,” Braylon looked cold. “You are the one who is calling this off. Why are you breaking your own heart?”

“Yes, I have too many feelings for you. I can’t take it! It’s too much! I just have to be rid of you so I can have something superficial and irresponsible again.”

“Damnit Veruca,” He said. “How can you forget the night we spent together, here in this room?”

“I will never forget.” She said.

“Did that mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” she began to sob again. “It meant too much. That’s why you need to go.”

“No!” He said. “I will not give up on us!”

Veruca stood up from the place she had been sitting and weeping at. There was a puddle of her material sorrow left there, but little else. She got up and placed a gentile kiss on Braylon’s forehead.

“You are a rash and ridiculous boy.” She said fondly.

“You are an amazing and frightened woman.” He said. His words struck her like a hammer. “If my love is too much for you, then I must go, as you say. Someday you will look back and wonder why you let me.”

“I know I will.” She said, with the sudden remarkable ability to see the future. “I hope you understand, it’s not you. You’re great. It’s me. I can’t do this right now. I can’t love you that way.”

“I see,” His hopes finally dashed against the jagged coastline of her. “You brought me all the way from London to tell me that?”

“Yes,” she hesitated. “And I’m pregnant with our child.”

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT TIME BETWEEN VERUCA AND BRAYLON AND NOW, THEIR BABY! WILL THERE BE A MARRIAGE, OR A CATASTROPHE! STAY TUNED.

Her raven sweet hair

Tossed in amber wind

The dried pollen smell

Crunched leaves

Maple dust

The slow groan of old trunks

In cold north shudder

Rustling the clutter

Of the fall.

Wicked summer

Fades to autumn

Her lips are soft

Perfect

Indescribable

Revolutionary

A piece of what is to come

So, you are a great person. You have personality, and flavor and all that good shit. However, you don’t exist that way in the minds of others, because you are not conscious of your outward reflection of your inner-self. The “you” that exists in your head is probably a rad person, but none of us are in your head, and we can’t see you. You have to step out of your mind and into our lives. I’ll explain how to theoretically get that done in the next section.

How to socially project yourself: you must accurately reflect your inner self to the outside world. In order to do this, you have to have some understanding of who you are to others. Ask your friends, straight up “who am I to you?” You’ll be surprised how many discrepancies there are, especially the farther out you go. Once you get to the acquaintances, the “ you” they have in their head is probably pretty much not at all accurate. How does one go about changing this, and better still, creating a new image of yourself in the minds of others? Self-confidence.

This is simple sounding, but I believe, that if you really believe in who you are, and being alive in the world, you will crave contact with others. You will want to paint in their rooms, the colors of your life. All you need do is get some idea in your head who you are, and start trying to show that person to the world. This is not an easy task, because it requires energy, risk, and will get you hurt now and again. This is all part of the equation, and the risks do not outweigh the rewards. You must be convinced, within yourself, that you know who you are. Otherwise, how are you going to ever convince anyone else to believe in who you are, or even remember you accurately?

You must come to terms with your flaws, and not be afraid to reveal your naked self to new eyes. You will be accepted by some, and rejected by others. So move on, and look for more accepting people. Just keep going to the people’s houses and painting their rooms new and exciting colors. There is no reason not to, really. You are only depriving yourself of the opportunity to be more like your true self, a healthy self, who believes. If you have mannerisms, behaviors that hold you back from being a true version of yourself, why not come to terms with this? Why not come to your friends and ask them how you can be more open with them? Open your heart to someone, as a friend or whatever. Take the first step.

Once you have it in your head who you are, that self should be strong enough to weather any storm, because you are ultimately proud of who you are. You believe in you. No one else has to. But other people will, when they see how strong you are. They will want to come to you, and know you, and appreciate you. It is inevitable. If you stay inside your mind, you will never realize this joy.

Will you cry? Yes. You will hurt sometimes, but without that pain, how could you ever know the height of joy? How could you then appreciate it with nothing to contrast it to?

Risk, noble-born children of the heart! I call you to risk your hearts for love, friendship, and the ongoing memory of who you are, long after you were.

Thing 1,

I am a boy. I’m full of emotions and experiences of the past which have damaged me. I’m not perfect, I’m just a human. Flawed, fond, hopeless, romantic, silly. I’m mostly well trained, which is a plus. However, I have made mistakes in not identifying with my logical mind, what the best relationship was going to be for us. I thought that, until now, relationships went romantic directions more often than not, and that it was probably where I should prepare myself to go. Since I have never met my parallel dimension opposite-sex personality twin until now, I have to prepare myself for a new dynamic. I love you, like I love someone who is a part of my family. We’re a wolf pack. We help each other, fight off foes together, go on hunts together and play in the snow together. We have fun with each other. We’re fucking wolves after all, why the hell not? So, I want to apologize again for my confusion. I’ve never done this type of connection before. I have to draw on a new set of neuro-pathways and brain wrinkles to make this happen. I had to ask myself whether I was bigger than lust, which I am, and therefore, can move on past that to some other place that is not so destructive. I’m feeling so happy that you walked into my life. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for finding me, and bringing me a joy in friendship I thought I would never know. Thing 1, you are truly amazing, and I want to demonstrate my appreciation of you through a long and incredible friendship. Like I said: wolf pack motherfucker. Wolf Pack. Uh huh. You want some of the glowing?

So here I am, plus one new awesome friend! I can’t believe my luck. I was having such a hard time finding an anchor in this northern California reality. I am a boy remade, now with a new reason to stay. A new reason to be a part of this different world.

I awake to the sounds of rain. It falls on the rooftops, hissing at the windows. I feel like a new pie piece has been added to the trivial pursuit game of my life. A red pie piece.

I don’t know where we’re going. But the future is unknown to us all, Thing 1. I want things to go well. I do. I’m scared because the last time I opened my heart, it got pulverized. Yet, I know in that same heart that you wouldn’t hurt me that way. I trust you, and I can’t explain why.

We are going to have rad adventures.

I promise.