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.

Really Lost the Meaning

Locked in a box that is known as America. It is easy to pick out the problems that each of us faces on a daily biases. Rich or poor we are always finding faults in the way that we live. Continuously we bring these faults on ourselves. The rich blame the poor and the poor blame the rich for each and every one of their problems. It is easy to see how we have gotten here over time. How each and every great nation, country, or whatever bull shit you want to call it has gotten here. Flipped through history and you will find countless tales of the same issues. Immigration, security, taxes, lack of education, etc. These problems we are faced with are not new or even that interesting anymore because they will always be problems. Someone always has to be the one with the short stick.

Call it God, call it fate, call it the devil’s own way, but whatever you call it, it is still there. What’s interesting is the lack of understanding of the problems and why we are faced with them. Most if not all of us would be okay with all of it if it was only a little bit fairer. Granted I understand that giving an inch will only lead to a mile, but honestly the top 1% control the bottom 99%. I wonder what kind of world we would be living in if it was more 60/40 or even 70/30? It would feel like a god damn utopia for at least what 2000 more years? Who the fuck knows. What is known is that there will always be someone above you, over you, or fucking you in some way.

This called a constant and the way of the world. Won’t change no matter what primitive cousin to the primate we put in charge. Man will find a way to fuck it up. We will find a way to destroy it because we still haven’t figured out how to fix it. The whole history book thing. Though we are getting better at drawing it out so, I guess that is something to be proud of. Still hoping we can figure out the whole bathroom issue sometime soon.

I feel like this is really holding us up as a society. We could do what they do in Japan and just have every public restroom be a hole in the ground. No that would be too simple and the legislation too short. What is a bill or a law if it isn’t over a thousand pages making sure it disenfranchises at least one person? Hippie propaganda.  Really lost the meaning of what I was trying to say here at about the second sentence.

America has problems, yes. So does every other nation in history up until now. Some have gotten some of it right and others don’t have a fucking clue as to what the word right even means. There are continents with major issues. Looking at you Africa. Seriously what the fuck? I mean the continent has a serious anti-homosexual stance which is fucked up enough. This alone would be like hey we need to talk about some stuff here. Please take a seat. But then on top of all that they are also mutilating innocent little girls because? They are fucking up vaginas while having a serious problem with homosexuals. That’s beyond we need to talk. That’s some dark shit. I never met the man, but I feel like even Ted Bundy would be like that’s a little too far or he’d clap. Really could go either way with that example. Do you like women or hate them? So confused on the overall message a large part of Africa is trying to get across. Where do you transition from there I’m not too sure.

Slave labor in other countries, human trafficking, mass starvation, or religious extremists? Honestly I can’t get over the bathroom issue and how unjustified it is. Something needs to be done god damn it. We invented greatness (patent pending) and we can solve this problem. We need to solve this problem before it ends up like another one of those big-ticket issues such as abortion or global genocide. I mean are we not heading to another civil war or are we not heading to another civil war. The chaos and panic in the streets is horrific and must be stopped. I mean we could put in place a higher minimum wage, free higher education, and free healthcare. I personally know that having a billion dollars is not enough to live a comfortable and sustaining life. I need every one of those dollars for things. Things made by people I don’t pay or care about. It’s a cycle but it looks more like a pile of shit. Luckily I happen to be on top of it. Make America great again? How about taxing the rich again? Are you out of your mind?

Broken Up Thoughts

They are trying to convince a generation built on speed, built on now to go slower on the streets. They might as well convince a dog to shit in the toilet. All of the skills are there but the instinct? Not so much. No one wants to go slower. If anything they want to go faster. Walk faster, talk faster, and be done faster. No one wants to do anything that takes time. This generation or the last. We are not designed to live in the now only the future. Even if that means a chance at death. Life itself is a chance at death.

 

He had so much anger growing up. I saw it right away. I knew I was going to have to do something so I told him, “You don’t hit anyone ever. You never hit a woman, a man, a child I don’t care who it is you never hit anyone” “But I want to dad,” he would say. “I know you do son but you don’t that’s life. You get in this ring though and you knock them the fuck out.” That’s what I would tell my son. That’s the strength I put in him. They say rich kids don’t fight and they’re wrong. Some people are born with this rage, this passion, this anger and money don’t have a fucking thing to do about it. If they don’t channel it. If they don’t get it out it consumes them. Destroys them and I wasn’t about to let that happen to my boy or anyone else.

 

Day in, day out, 9 to 5, 9 to whenever, however you want to put getting fucked. I am lost within myself. Lost in the dark. The theme is something I carry with me every second of every day. The lights all burned out. No longer even a flicker of a flame. Absolute dark. If only I could get beyond this. Step into the figurative illusion of this so-called light I’m missing in my life. Maybe then. Maybe somehow I could be who it is I always dreamed I could be. Then again maybe it will all one day come together for us all. I doubt it, but that could very well be who I am. In the end we all have something to say. In the end we all have our place in obscurity. We all have our own personal hell to wander through.

Faith For All That Is Left

Faith is a question we ask ourselves. An idea we question every thought and every action with. We do this based on faith that we are doing the right thing, that we are justified in our faith. But where does this faith come from? Does it come from religion or are we in fact born with this idea of faith. The question feeds itself over and over. The idea burns itself into our brains until it no longer matters which came first, but that we have faith at all. Over and over again we battle with ourselves and with each other. Over and over again. A constant battle of who is right and who is wrong. No one on earth is right and no one on earth is wrong, but in fact they are both.

Society states this and society states that, but who is this society? Where did this all start or where did all of this come from? A question as dense as the question of faith. The written word passes down information from generation to generation. Therefore passing the idea of society down with it. A giant game of telephone that eventually found its way to stone, to paper. Even words written in stone are really nothing more than an interpretation of an idea that began long ago. Nothing is permanent. Nothing can last.  Our words will change and evolve. Our world will change and evolve. Thoughts and ideas of today will not be the same a hundred years from now. Or will they? Will we or can we reach a point that the words we write, speak, or believe actually have a definitive meaning?

Unlikely giving the history of man or the will of man to manipulate words to their own will. It falls again on society. We have no real way of knowing where our society comes from. We can trace the pages of course, scour the library looking for such information, but in the end all this trail leads us to nothing more than theories. No one knows how this great society truly started. We can see the snowball effect of it all, but the very begin, the first spark? No one knows. Yet, somehow some way it is in there.

It is in our brains. Maybe even in our DNA. Quite possibly society and faith are etched into our very souls. Over lapping one another in the double helix that is us. Coming together to form the basis of our ideas or our way of life. However it may be or may not be in the end no amount of faith in society can provide a sustainable future. Corruption, greed, humanity will find a way to destroy everything. Proving once again that these two things have no answer, have no meaning. It is only a matter of time before everything falls apart. Nothing is forever. Nothing is permanent. Have faith in that.

You Draw Something

Everything has always been one big problem. One after another in an endless cycle. Everyone and everything about them has been a problem since the dawn of time. The words can’t escape my head fast enough. No one expects shit from me any ways. They all assume they can ride my ass to the promise land.

Loaded gun resting in my mouth I’m so done with that shit. I’m so sick of everything and everyone pushing me to do it. My misery means more to everyone else than it does for me. Push as hard as they like won’t do them any good. If I haven’t done it yet then I’m never going to do it.

Too fucking bitter, too fucking beat down to even bother. The world revolves around no one and it sure as fuck won’t stop because you do. I want so much more from this world than it could ever give to me. Living more lives inside my head than I can put ink to the page. I guess that’s how you know the safety is on.  Don’t want to die just enjoy the threat of it all.

Doesn’t make up for the bleeding asshole the world likes to provide. The nightly penetration gets old, but it also becomes familiar. Constantly on edge. Who the fuck knows what retarded ass shit they will come up with in the morning. What new bull shit policy they make up on the spot? Seems I enjoy the abuse. Really I’m only tired of starting over. Wasting away years of my life only to be like fuck it. Compliance with old age is the real killer.

The gun slips from my lips. What am I doing here? Must be how the mad man feels after pulling the trigger if they feel anything at all. Not feeling anything must feel nice. No one gets off that easy. Everyone has to suffer. Some more than other I guess.

Walking In On Broken Thoughts

Puking into the bucket that is an anagram for thoughts once thought. It becomes too much of a hassle to explain everything when no one is listening. A plastic veil hidden behind us all. A wall built up tall. Thinking has only gotten no one anywhere. A thought, a moment in time, a feeling left behind. Broken sentences lead to broken thoughts. We are told that grammar is important, necessary even narcissistic. When you’ve been able to keep up so far then we may be one and the same. Such a sad day. The pain of the dragging razor makes all of this seem okay. When none of it could ever really be that way. The repeated anal penetration was fun for a minute, but now there is too much tearing and it’s starting to hurt.

Life still has many more tricks left up its sleeve, but I have to admit I don’t have any more compassion for this shit. An endless loop of all the things that I will have to do later today. Maybe it is time to switch to my knees. Begging for mercy while taking it from both ends. They say God cares, answers prayers, but how could anyone ever know until the end?

A suicidal mission with little sense of fulfillment. A cautionary tale to not believe all the bull shit presented to you. The words become filled with lies the more you read them. The more you worship them. The more you know I was right, but you’ll never see that, that wasn’t the point all along. Fuck God and fuck you for making me say it. Condemned myself so you’d understand. Condemned myself to have an excuse for all of this.

I Awake with Bruised Eyes and Hollowed Out Lies

I look at the world, seven minutes cold, flashes of life, and passed out drunk. I awake with burning, stinging, sleepless eyes. I awake with a sense of belonging and at the same time a longing. Awaken but yet I must still be dreaming. Dreaming for something better or something worse. I awake with my dick still standing. Standing at full attention looking for any attention. Ready to release one more load or another gallon of piss. The decision is not on the brain, but in a gateway smaller than I can imagine. Made of flesh and blood as is the rest of me. This is every morning. This s a constant. These are the things I think about and I do not know why.

The bad taste that has slipped into my mouth overnight doesn’t go away even after I try to brush it out or smoke in a replacement taste. My teeth hurt like they have been grinding away layer by layer all night. It’s the little stresses that kill you not the big stuff. It is the little stuff that slowly eats you alive. Taking this and taking that but in the end they take everything anyways. If you are one of the lucky ones you won’t even notice the discomfort. I notice every little instants and yet I let it happen. Hell I join in on the pleasure every now and then. Daily. I smoke another with the taste still very much intact. I didn’t need another one, but at this point what is one more? One more nail, one more stake in the heart. Tiny needles pressing against my chest cavity heading for my soul. It wasn’t the taste or even my dick that woke me up today earlier than death. No it was a dream, a light version of a nightmare that is my life.

My dream, nightmare, inner vision was about my grandmother. A devil of a woman whom without I wouldn’t be standing here today. Allegedly there is no scientific facts to back up these claims. I hate my grandmother she was a bitch. Therapy could help me describe my true inner feelings better, but she’d still be a bitch. In the dream she pretends to be a sleep as my grandfather rattles off a list of shit she wants for dinner. He was exact instructions on what she wants and how she wants it to be. Treated like a slave in life and in my dreams I feel bad for my grandfather. It was no wonder he went a little crazy. It was no wonder they found him in possession of a trunk full of dead cats and a collection of women underwear. Luckily it didn’t go any further than that or you might have heard of him. He lives in a cozy little place far removed from society now. Better put he is basically dead.

“This but not that. Make sure you get it right or else,” he says in my mind and my dream. Or what the fat bitch is going to get her lazy ass out of bed and kick our asses? She hasn’t left that bed by choice in maybe a year. Conversations with myself always seem one-sided. I can see her while she fakes being asleep. Patiently listening to make sure he plays his part as always. He says one more thing before I awoke, “We know all about your past experience with food, but we also know you always crew up.” What do you think that the dream meant? I hope it means that she is or will be dying, but she is already dead. Not a loss or a gain just more of the nothing that fills this world. Shouldn’t waste my time on people who don’t matter, didn’t matter, or don’t care. The brain doesn’t work like that though.

They still find their way through though don’t they? Slip through the cracks no one knew were even there. Tear the wall down and leave you with nothing but rubble. Drinking could be the reason, life could be the other, and living without a purpose could be the answer I’m looking for. How am I to live with so many distractions? A gun fight erupts outside, a flood down the street drowns hundreds, and yet I sit staring at a screen looking for answers. Her little eyes scream for attention and the sound to follow. The present is only for a moment but the past is a life time.