Even More Broken Thoughts Over Time

I really like playing the asshole, the liar, the thief it’s so much easier than it is to be me.  I just can’t take the loneliness. I’m lonelier now than I was before I gave it all up. The voices in my head have taken over and there is no telling what they have or haven’t said at this point. The long conversations I once had have given into a world that I have created. My life has been a long spiral down to this point. I’m at the bottom and I really don’t feel any worse than when I was at the top. Gone are the days where anything makes sense, the days of innocence, and the days plagued by truth. Here and now is hell. No longer am I waiting to grow up. Now I’m just waiting to die. I’ve never felt any more at home than I do now.

 

The best known secrets are the ones everyone already knows, but are too afraid to admit. We all give up on our dreams or on ourselves at some point. Natural progression of life I assume. Best example crotch fat. Fucking kill me at that point. Why would we even store fat there? How the fuck is that even an option? Did the ass run out of room and the belly declare it is too full? I’d cut it off with a rusty knife. What exercise is there to even fight this? I guess at that point you are just fucked.

 

A customer just told me that the artificial sugars in gum are basically poison. So she buys a thirty pack and heads on home.

 

I got the best house on the block, the fear of admiration by my peers, and the whole world waiting at my feet. What more could I possibly want from this world? I’m no longer hungry and that scares me. Frightens me to the core of my very existence and yet I will do nothing about it. I can’t anymore. The times have come and gone. A new era of my life has begun. One where I am no longer poor. One where I have everything I could ever want. All I have to do is maintain and I’ll be fine. Throwing more cash in the fire I leave for France tomorrow. I don’t even like going there anymore. I’m going to go. My life is so sad it depresses me.

 

My mother got remarried. I don’t like to talk about it much, but it makes me feel like an outsider in a distant land. Family events have become horrible because of this. I feel out-of-place and disconnected from everyone else. So much so that I spend most of the evening hiding as if I’m not even there. My mother’s new family are all nice people, but they are strangers none the less. I think it is so hard for me to connect with them because there are so many. For most of my life it has been me and my mom. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and any other family gathering event. It was always just the two of us and now there is only a room full of people I don’t know. I’m not at a family event now but I am supposed to stop by after work. I won’t be going tonight though I lie and say I will. It is easier this way. Maybe too easy for me. I’m sure my mother will be heartbroken and she will wait patiently for me to walk through the door at any moment. This is probably an over dramatic realization. Too many movies have rotted my brain. I’m sure a room full of people will not miss one more. As I said the easy way out. Push everything a side and move on. The times have changed from what they used to be and I need to get used to the way things are.

Becoming Nothing More

We’ve all got our reasons to be here tonight. Every night. For some of us it is our crippling lack of wealth. For others it has evolved into the only way we know how to live. A violent transformation of shit. A hurricane with no eye. We spin and spin watching the world go by in a blur. We learn things too late or not at all. We are at war? We are on the verge of going bankrupt? We are to be fired? News of the world is nothing and means nothing. There is always a job to do. Most everything beyond that comes as a surprise though we could never really understand the word at this point.

Numb, depressed, destructive these are words we can understand. These are words we live and believe in at this moment and time. My fear however is that they will be replaced with home, suicidal, destroyed. Blending into the madness is hard at first. At first everything is difficult. Time has a way of breaking you in. Grinding you down into the monsters we have become. Humanity, justice, sleep are all lost on us. The very idea of those words disappear in the darkness of our minds. I’ve given up hope that they will return anytime soon. From what little I can recall of the words and their ideas, the thoughts they convey, only make you weak.

Weakness will kill you in this prison of freedom. We remind ourselves that there is always something worse, but is there? The day walkers ask us if we are able to balance life at work and at home. We lie something we all have become masters at. We lie and say we can. We hope this lie will free us, but it never does. How can we maintain lives with little to no sleep? Am I alive? Yes. Do I live a life? Can you repeat the question? Hobbies become sleep. Self-worth becomes units per hour. Desperation becomes an everyday occurrence. They push us harder into the madness. More cases, new product, revolving door of people, shorter deadlines, and on and on. “Never good enough. Should have been done already. Maybe if you were faster. Don’t worry we are getting some more new people in here.” The quotes and shit they say goes on and on. Hate the day walkers. Fear the day walkers. Wish you too could become a day walker.

Though after what we have been through how could we ever quit, walk away, do something else, and then what would have all this been for? Start at the bottom again. Start over with nothing. Start over damaged. The company is a good company to work for I’m told. They pay you well. How do you like it? What can I say? So I say nothing and harbor my pain and sorrow. Could always be worse. Worse than feeling not good enough each and every night. Worse than a nightly reassurance that my worthlessness has driven me beyond a point. A point I will never return from. Becoming nothing more than destroyed, suicidal, and at home.

And Other Things From This Time Preview

Not the Answer

Sex is an ugly thing
Do what you have to do
Then it’s all over
I write because I have to
Then it’s all over
I’d stay and talk
But I have to write
This all over
A process with meaning
Still no answers
Atheism is a question
Is there a God?
Or am I only alone
Sold a million books
Reprised the question
Why am I doing this?
If it’s not worth the effort
You think you know
And so do I
But I’m a liar
Do what I have to do
To get between your thighs
I am an animal
But then why do I feel so bad
Did what I had to do
This is no lie
This is no question
I am what I am
Is not the answer

Pizza and Beer

I am nothing anymore
My mind but a blender
I want to kill the world
But my reasons get returned to sender
I have a list of everything I need to do
I have a task at hand which I hand off to you
One step at a time
Seems more like a reason to die
I thought it would give me a cause
I thought it would make me noble after all
How wrong I was
How stupid I could be
If I put a gun in my mouth
The solution would seem so clear to me
My teeth are rotten
My body is broken
Everything is a mystery until you have no need for it
I feel like I feel, though I’m not sure

Are you paying attention? Does this all seem as though no one else knows? I’d give you a clue, but even they are lost on me. Driven to madness I had no choice. I hope you understand that my soul is now available on Kindle….Enjoy…

People With No Name

“Is there anything I can help you find?” The customer looks over from the entry way of the store at the short stubby clerk standing behind the counter. The customer only came in for one item and has no idea where in this store it could possibly be.
“Yes you can I’m looking for. Oh it’s right there. Right in front of me the whole time.” The customer smiles as she reaches for the simple item on the shelf in front of her.
“Glad we could be of some help,” the clerk smiles. The customer gives off a short laugh as she carries the item to the counter.

“Me too. Does that happen a lot?”
“What do you mean?” The clerk asks the customer.
“Someone asks you where something is and they find it right in front of them?”
“Yes it happens a lot. They say it’s my gift.”
“That’s funny. Who says that?” the customer asks.
“The people with no name.”
“Who?,” the customer asks puzzled.
“The people with no name,” the clerk says calmly.
“Is that other customers?”

“No, I’m sorry I’ve said too much. I didn’t realize you didn’t know, never mind.”
“Know what?” the customer asks taken back.
“I’ve said too much. Are you ready to check out?”
“Where are these people you speak of?”
“If you must know they’re all around us. Can’t you at least feel them?”

The customer shakes her head and starts to become even more confused.
“They control everything and everything controls them. How do you not know about the people with no name?”
“Is there a manager or someone I can talk to?” the customer asks politely.
“Of course there is but why would you need to speak to them?”
“Because I do. In private if that’s okay?”
“Of course, of course just a moment please.” The clerk turns his head and begins to whisper as if someone is there, but there is no one the customer can see.

“The manager will be here in a moment.”
“But you didn’t even page or call anyone.”
“Yes I did,” the clerk says sternly.
“No you didn’t. Can you please page the manager for me?”
“Ma’am I already did and she will be here in just a moment.”
“What the hell is going on here?”

“How may I help you today?” A female voice asks.
The customer turns around to face the woman. “Are you the manager?”
“Yes I am, how may I help you?” She asks again.
“I need to talk to you in private,” the customer says as if to test the manager’s sanity.
“We have a non-believer,” the clerk informs the manager.
“Just because I don’t hear voices that make me a non-believer in something?,” the customer asks irate.
“You don’t hear them?” The manager asks politely.
“Hear what?” The customer demands.
“The people who have no name,” the manager says.
“There are no people here. Have you two lost your minds?”
“Ma’am there is no reason to be rude,” the clerk says.
The manager turns her head and begins to whisper and again no one is there.

“They say you are just not ready.”
“Not ready for what? Are you saying I’m not ready to hear voices in my head?”
“We don’t hear voices in our head ma’am. The voices are all around us. I tried to explain that the people are all around us, but I don’t think she understands.”
“How can she understand anything we are talking about if she does not believe?” The manager asks as if the customer isn’t even there.
“This is all just madness. I am calling someone I hope you know that and I’m never shopping here again.”

The customer throws her item up on the counter and storms out of the store. The manager calmly walks over to the counter and picks up the item, “Some people just aren’t ready yet.”
“I know it saddens me, but maybe one day.”
A hand reaches out from behind the clerk and rests on his shoulder.
“One day they will all believe,” the owner of the hand reveals.

About Time I Suppose

I always feel the need to do something more tangible. Something a little more personal. The thought washes over me like a wave. A tide that I’m slowly drowning in until well here we go. Recently I finally purchased my own little piece of where ever the hell I am now. You are all welcome to never come over so, knowing where that is, is irrelevant to the situation. Point is that I finally got some land. Not much one to two acres out way from most civilization. Enough to pretend that nothing else exists, but still close enough to get decent internet.

I even got all the things needed to take care of the land. Riding lawnmower, a weed eater, and whatever else. I got everything I tell everyone who might ask though no one ever does. The problem is though I don’t like to be outside. I like the idea of being outside, but never see the point of being out there. It’s like how I like the idea of walking around naked in my house, but I don’t because it’s not practical. What if someone comes over? We’ve spent hundreds of years perfecting inside. Why the fuck would I want to go outside? Needless to say the yard has become over grown and there is a fine layer of dust over all the things I needed to make sure that this didn’t happen.

Letting the yard go was a mistake. Not because there might be snakes or rodents or even monster out there. Who the fuck knows I don’t go outside. It was a mistake because apparently despite my best efforts I do have neighbors and they have a son. Nothing unusual, nothing too strange about having a child. I have one or whatever. The problem is that they saw my laziness as an opportunity for their son to take on a challenge. Never a great start because who the fuck what’s to do something their parents want them to do? I’d be a doctor by now if I had listen to my parents, but things work out how they work out. Or as my mother likes to remind me, “There’s still time.”  I’m half dead. There is barely time to do what I am already doing.

So I hired the kid because his parents were brave enough to knock on my door and speak to me for more than thirty seconds. Yes, that’s all it takes. Anything to get them away from my house. I would have given them the keys to the house if that would have been an option, but my family needs a place to stay. They are weak and too afraid of what is in the tall grass. “Sad,” a quote we can all use now. So the kid comes over once a week to cut my grass and watch me walk around naked in my house. It was awkward at first, but there might be things out there lurking in the grass.

Random As Random Can Be

Notes from History Class (This is the class I liked.)

Now I really don’t understand how this really works but I know that I need to be doing something since I am just sitting in class not saying anything or doing anything. I really don’t know why I continue to come to this class but I know I can’t miss another day because I have already hit my limit of miss days. I should be wasting my time typing up my next paper but instead I am talking to myself.

The big picture, we the people only voted for representatives

Basically says all governments all exist at the same time. Checks and balances. Everyone wants to rule the world. Tears for fears mother fucker. Oh yeah weak 80’s references.  Back to solitaire.

He believed that he was there for the good of the people.

This is going to be a long class filled with labor and death thou shall not consume water ever again. The nation was built on the idea of for the people by the people. All comes back to the declaration of independence. Most kings were there because of the divine right of kings.  Its thirteen little babies of death sucking at the tit of mother Russia. Kill kill, kill crew we strive to labor over the death of salvation but we bleed the history we choose to forget. Life can roll, roll right on down the hill, smashing the homes and our own people. Like a revolving wheel that has no purpose or no will.

A diamond ring made of your bone and flesh, pressed down hard beyond the limits of crushing. Hardened into a stone for my bony finger, your luxury is only pain for me, bleeding you, bleeding you dry, bleeding you, bleeding you dry.  Stock market crashes and so does your head, body out of window thrown into the wind, dropping, dropping to the ground, black market fall out, fall out, destruction in your mind, bleeding you, bleeding you, dry, bleeding you, bleeding you dry. I don’t want much just the soul you hold dear and love, I don’t want much just the soul you hold dear and love, there is no need to fear me, I’m the government you did not elect, there is no need to fear me, I’m the government put in place to protect, our own interest, our own interest, bleeding you, bleeding you dry, bleeding you, bleeding you dry. Bottom feeders, it is time to rise, rise, rise, and clam your own lives, rise, rise, bleeding you dry, rise, rise, bleeding you dry, rise, rise

A government that governs less governs best. A government left burning is the one still left turning, the increasing debt, rises at the cost of our own expense, what have you done? Now is your time to speak up, what have you done? Now is your time to speak up, what have you done? National health care is at an all time low, the money lining your pockets is at an all time high, people live in fear, of seeking care, people live in pain, to scared to receive care, what have you done? Now is your time to speak up, what have you done, now is the time to speak up, what have you done? The increasing debt, is being paid for by our blood, the increasing national debt, is being paid for by threat, forced to live in fear, forced to die in tears, what have you done? Now is the time to speak up, what have you done? Now is the time to speak up, what have you done?

Is the law that makes the bank constitutional Maryland or the law of genius falls hard onto the swords of death and frustration yet we bleed only to mop up the floor with our blood.  Southerners are going to follow Jefferson because he is from the south and the south follows anyone like sheep to a heard. Anything in the state of Maryland is going to bank in the state power of vaginal glory. All hail the wicked.

Where does the power lie when it comes to state power and federal power? He says it is in fact conditionals. There is a list in the constitution that gives congress the powers to pay for things. If marshal does not make that design we are back to the article of confederation type of government. Man is going crazy because the class will not speak up.  Will be the supreme law of the land, anytime federal laws conflicted with state laws, federal always wins. John Marshal strengths the federal government.

Each of the four men helped to define the federal government. A puppet government made up of Bert and Ernie dancing around sucking each other off like fascist at a dinner party. Why is the case important then?

We sold our souls for the great American dollar

“Wal-Mart doesn’t care about you”
the government doesn’t care about you
who does care about you?

We are a nation made of bastards and liars
from the time of our origin to now

If you made it this far. This is from my time in college about eight years ago… See health care has been a problem for a while… I’m not going to get all political… Well I might, but the thing that I like about America, among other things,  is this idea that we can say what we want… So I try not to judge when other people or I say stupid shit… We all do even after eight years and a filter… It happens.. Words are words.. It is by our actions that we should be judged… Of course this never happens… 

Choking On The Feeling

Do you ever feeling like there is no place for you in the world or that you think you know your place, but maybe that really isn’t your place? My cousin recently graduated from the Marines. Horrible pick for employment given the current leader. The point is though that for as long as I can remember anything about him he wanted to be a solider.

From a young age, the last time I happen to even see him, he knew his place in the world. Good or bad choice aside he wanted that and he got it. I don’t have any feelings for him. No sense of lost memories. We could pass each other on the street tomorrow and I’d keep walking, but I feel so happy for him right now. I am happy he has found a place and a place he wants to be. I’m about to turn thirty and I have no place. So sense of purpose in this world. I want to be writer, but I have my doubts.

Growing up all I ever wanted to do was do something in music. Having no talent, no friends to piggy back on, and no aptitude to even learn an instrument I dove into the part I was good at. Writing lyrics became writing poems. Writing poems became telling stories. It took a long time, but that is where I am now. Trying to write stories to find my purpose. At this moment in time I have published nothing, sold nothing, and with every passing day doubt myself and any talent I might have. I don’t even know another writer. Part of the reason I wanted to be a writer is that I could do it on my own. Which is becoming less and less true as time goes on.

It takes a village or so I hear, but what does it take if you don’t have one? What am I fighting for if there is no hope of winning? I have everything I want, well need, I want a lot of shit I don’t need, but writing didn’t get me the things that I wanted. The people around me did. My mom, my wife, my daughter, and the guy who hired me at my current job provided me the opportunities to be where I am today.

Lost, but still here. I hope writing pans out. I hope it is my place in this world. Not really sure I have enough time to find another and start working towards that from the ground up. Maybe I am thinking about it too much? My cousin was only a kid when he said he wanted to be a solider and technically he is three months in to his place in life. Five years from now he might not even want to be a solider. I’m fifteen years into mine and all I want to be is a writer. Well a good father, a good husband, and a good son. Sometimes it may feel like we have no place in the world, but all that means is that we aren’t done fighting yet.