Happy Halloween…

What… No horror story?… honestly couldn’t come up with anything more terrifying than the idea that I won’t be back until January…

That’s right… it is that time again… really hope that you have enjoyed these last few months… the stories… the Broken Thoughts… and the rambling… enough about looking back… it is time to go out and get some candy… never too old for free shit…

Pro tip… Take a kid… people ask way fewer questions… Outside of who’s kid is this and what not… unless you already have your own… then you are playing the game on God Mode…

In the mean time enjoy this video… while I figure out what to do with it…

More to come… hopefully… not sure I needed to add more shit to my plate… but fuck it… crazy train is rolling out of the station… good night… and good luck… Hope all is well… I’m out to fucking lunch… see you all in January…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Chewing On Glass Presents… Tripping On A Hole In A Paper Heart…

In a classroom full of Macs the information they must process, but they are here at this shit school. Which means they go to waste. Been in this class for over a week and we have yet to even turn one on. I’m in a classroom full of people I hate. Locked in a room with no key with people like me. Each and every one of them thinks they are better than me. Better than everyone else. The room feels claustrophobic and small. The room feels like hell. There are only twelve of us occupying the space, but it might as well be a thousand. The drugs I took today are not making this feeling go away. If anything they may have been bad, tainted. The teacher speaks in a way that is hard to understand. It is time to strap in.

It feels as if she is only talking to me, and I have to keep reminding myself that she isn’t. The students seem faceless. They have the blankest of stares that I can’t understand. I can’t see their eyes or their mouths. I begin to sweat and I have to take my sweatshirt off. It isn’t enough to escape the feeling that the room is on fire. I want to strip all of my clothes off as if this is normal. But I’m not high enough yet to just do it. The teacher keeps talking and the more I stare the more I notice that something seems to be leaking from her eyes. She is smiling and laughing as more blood pours from her eyes. The room erupts with the sound of laughter as the others join in. Their laughs float in the air as if they are real objects. I fight the urge to reach out to one. Take it into myself so I could join in. I’m getting even more nervous by the moment. My sweat has soaked through my shirt and I realize I am trapped in a nightmare the drugs are creating.

I start to see smoke come from behind the teacher. This must be where the feeling of being trapped in a fire is coming from. I fight the urge to shout anything out. Foot tapping to the restrained words inside my head. Faster and faster my foot taps to a broken beat. The smoke gets thicker and I find it hard to breathe. The orange glow of fire starts to fill the back of the room. I feel the heat of the fire on my face. Maybe this is real, but why aren’t the other students shouting and screaming? Why are they just sitting there laughing as if everything is okay? I fake a smile as I look at their blank faces. My face feels stretched against the fire. Locked in place with a crooked smile. I want to leave but I am afraid. Afraid of what I might find outside of this room. The teacher rises from her chair at the head of the class. A monstrous force with pitchfork in hand. She waves it around her pointing it at each and every one of us. Impaled fetus rest on each fork. Cooked and barely distinguishable from burnt up sausages. Only the little charred hands pointing back at me. She screams with a horrible sound that has no equal. She screams in a language I can’t understand. A lost language that hasn’t been spoken since the dawn of time. She paces the front of the room. Only stopping to pound her pitchfork and let out another scream. It’s not real. It’s not real. The other students respond back with their own horrible screams. It’s not real. I just need to ride this out. I close my eyes and place my head on my desk.

The heat around me rises to an unbearable degree as the pounding of her pitchfork gets closer and closer until I can feel her right above me. I scream as her burning hand touches my shoulders. Her face has transformed into a face of scales and blood. She whispers to me as she looks into my eyes. I watch as the students are engulfed in flames. They make no noise as they burn. Through the fire I can now see all of their eyes. All of their eyes staring back at me. The teachers places her face directly in front of me. All I can see is her. Her scales breaking off into little flakes as she moves her mouth. “I can’t,” is all I can manage to say. I fight the urge to vomit and scream at the same time. I grab my backpack and try to ignore the fact that it feels like something is moving inside. Running through the flames I know this isn’t real, but I can’t stay here any longer. I reach for the red hot handle attached to the black door. The handle feels cold as I push down on it and enter the hallway on the other side.

The black door slams, but it sounds as though it is coming from far away. I struggle through the hallway. Making my way towards the stairs. Each foot step feels like a fight. Feels as though the bottoms of my shoes have melted to the floor. Should I take them off? Even in a nightmare state that seems like a bad idea. It takes me a moment before I notice the others. I am not alone as I make my way through the building. More faceless students surround me. Each one with a knife in their hands. I try to not draw any attention to myself. Each step, each leg pulled with all the effort I have left. I need to get to my car. It goes on like this for what feels like an eternity. It goes on so long I forget what it is that I am doing and fall just before the stairs. I manage to catch myself. The hallway grows silent. The students are no longer going about their business. Picking myself up off the floor I look around. The faceless students stare back at me. Each one holding their long butcher knife beside them. The blades shine as they turn them from side to side in an offbeat synchronized rhythm. The light in the hallway reflecting off each and every one of them. I feel an intense amount of dread fill my stomach. I don’t wait for them to do anything as I run down the stairs in horror.

Step by step in a rapid fashion. Until I miss the last step. Slamming face first onto the floor. I hear a rush of footsteps approach me. One of the faceless students tries to help me up. Their knife rested next to me on the floor. It speaks to me in a way that I don’t understand. I kick away from the face my body filled with pain and shock. I crawl my way to the nearest door and manage to get myself up on my feet. One of my feet hurts but I can’t tell which one. My fears of going outside were justified. The sky is no longer sunny or blue. The sky has turned a shade of red and the clouds have become a black so dark that it couldn’t possibly be real. Little red flakes fall from the black clouds. They float down around me in a slow motion usually reserved for the movies. The flakes make their way to the ground and they slowly melt as each one makes it to the ground. Forming puddles of blood that litter the pavement. Bigger and bigger the puddles grow with every passing moment. It’s not real. It’s not real. I sprint towards the parking lot. Pain shooting up one of my legs.

The cars are misshapen and I can’t tell which one is mine. I take out my keys and press the panic button. My car begins to honk somewhere in the distance. The lights of the car flash on and off in shades of blue, red, green, and purple in no real order. They flash in a pattern that says here I am. I run to the car. Unlocking it with a push of a button and turn the panic mode off. I open the back passenger door and crawl inside. Crawl inside my new womb. The seats feel slimy and warm. The seats feel like home. A warm womb with windows? This isn’t real. This isn’t real. What is anymore? I ask myself as the seats pulsate as if they are real.  I bury my head into the back seat and close my eyes against the warm. Feels as though my head is surrounded by water. Through it all I hear it. The sound of music, the sound of talking, the sounds of a distant memories I have long forgotten. The sounds of it all are taking over little by little by some outside noise.  I hear scratching on the sides of my car. Too afraid to open my eyes I just scream into the seat. Scream until I finally pass out to the sounds of the students dragging their knives across the sides of the car. Waiting tear me away from my new home. Hands and knives pressed against the sides of my womb.

Wait… What the fuck?… Yeah I don’t know either… I spent a lot of time messing with this one… the basic idea was always there from the beginning… as most ideas are… first draft was weird and crazy… apparently I have always been weird and a little bit off… who knew?… but I thought lets turn this shit up to eleven… fun fact… I had to be removed by C section… had to be torn from my first home as well… if I hadn’t there was a good chance I would have died… cord was tied around my throat… my life line was not ready to let go?… I was also super late… two weeks… my mom thought I was never going to come out… almost didn’t as it turns out… spoiler alerts I made it…

I often wonder though… as the cord was tied around my neck… and the doctors told my mother to push… that in those moments… something happened to me… turned on a switch… told me to live… not to given into everything that was happening to me… of course these are adult thoughts… these are thoughts I have when all hell feels as though it surrounds me… I tried to inject that idea into this character… give him a piece of me… this isn’t real… this isn’t real… which this story isn’t… I’ve never done acid or any psychedelic drugs… for every reason presented above in the story…

If I can imagine all of that sober… I am afraid of what I would see high… which is where this story started… I like to explore the idea of what I might find over… actually going to find it… grass is greener where the dogs are shitting and all… I have been lucky… or too uncool… to have never been around drugs… I knew people who do them… know people who do a lot of them… just not around me… and all those that I know who do a lot of them… live a life I would never want to live… it looks brutal… miserable… but that is the life that they choose… that sounds like I am an asshole… and that could be a whole other post… condensed version of what I believe about life… is that we make our own choices…

I write a lot about drugs… A Lie for example… other stories found on this website… I try at all times to not make them sound fun… they very well could be… but I really doubt it long term… I have tried a few… the ones that I have tried I have liked… one for a short term (marijuana)… the other… well if you have been paying attention to the website for the last year… long term in a bad way (alcohol)… nothing too crazy… but in the very limited scope of what I have experienced… being sober has always been better… like everything in life… never at the time… only in hind sight…

So back to the question or thought I presented… why do you write a lot about drugs?… Honestly because they’re something physical… something tangible… something most of us can understand… because we all know someone or know someone who knows someone that does drugs or knew… some of us have done them ourselves… and also because you can’t inject… or snort… or smoke sadness… but as it turns out you can… and in the case of A Lie… that is where I went with that… same as I went here… this story isn’t real… I didn’t trip on acid and fall asleep in my car… I had a panic attack and feel asleep in my car instead… that is where fiction and truth collide… that is where I like to stand… that is where I like to be when I write… could I have written the same story for the same effect without drugs?… yep… but it would have been boring… been like digging at an old wound… where is the fun in that?… find out next week… complete with pictures as we dig deeper into my chest… : )

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Something Different…

Misconception of Myself

Getting me down was never the difficult part
Brining me back from the edge
Going to take more than a few words
Let me die, only to do it again
A cycle on repeat
Broken switch called me
Thoughts and feelings in a blender
Puree
An emotional wreck
Starting to understand
Walking three feet in these shoes
Try not to kill yourself with the effort
But at least I have my health
Mentally been fucking gone
Talking to myself, I can ramble on

Getting me down was never the difficult part
Written down instructions, tattooed inside my head
Easy to follow with only a few words
Let me sleep, only to do it again
Another drink from this endless bottle
Broken need called me
Tapped
An emotion bonfire
Starting to understand
Walk three feet in this crooked spine
Try not to do too much
The effort will surely kill you
But at least then you’d know
What the hell I’m talking about
Because no one seems to

Getting me down was never the difficult part
Been lying here the whole time
Face down in the concrete
So glad you found me
Another victim to attach myself to
Broken feeling called me
Running out of reasons I should quit
Pureed, tapped, given away
Starting to understand
Everything I forgot
Three feet in this soul
Try not to run away
But at least I’m still breathing

Been Waiting Here For You

You’re no good for me
I need someone with some light
These shadows have been nice, for a time
Hide all the knives
You know the ones you stuck
In my heart
Kiss my lips and call it love
Pulling each one out with the hope
It will end
Kiss my lips and tell me what it is
No good for me
Not good enough
Not even the same
A home was nice for a while
Hides all the lies
You know the ones you stuck
In my heart
Kiss my lips and tell me I’m fine
Reliving each broken memory in hopes
It will end
Kiss my lips and call it what it is
Come on you knew
Longer than anyone
Strung me along
Too scared to pull the trigger
You know the one you stuck
In my heart
Let’s not pretend to forget
What it is

Pretty personal… pretty sad… dark… falling apart… better… healed… a distant memory… will always sting… but little by little it will go away… That’s all I have to really say about these two…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Broken Thoughts… Looking For Something New…

Slowly killing myself
Living life, not fast enough
Dying life, not slow enough
Speed it up
Let it go
Breathe a little
Keep fucking running
Not enough
Add it up
Subtract the dream
Slowly killing myself
Living life, not slow enough
Dying life, not fast enough
Drag it in
Hold on tight
Exhale a little
Keep fucking pulling
Not enough effort
Add it up
Subtract the want
Nothing equals what you give
Living on fumes
Being dragged by the chain
Waiting around bored
Makes no sense
Yet here we are

I can’t separate the need from the pain…

How many times are you going to break my heart?
How many times will I let you?
Ripping the heart from my chest
What a useless vessel for love
How much can one take?
Enough to kill for
At what point am I?
What a useless question for love
Not even close enough
How many times are you going to take everything?
How many times must I watch it all walk away?
Stripping the soul from my body
What a useless vessel for life
How much can one take?
Enough to die for
At what point am I?
What a useless question for something
So meaningless as this

Sometimes it is easier to say the words out loud than to believe them…

Are you even trying?
Do you try to breathe?
No, why would I? You?
Only when I’m drowning

Trying to make it through today…

Two weeks from thirty two
Growing old
The mirror’s reflection doesn’t look the same
The mind feels as it always does
Growing old
Thinking about all the things
Thinking how none of this means a thing
Growing old
Killing myself is getting old

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter...

Broken Thoughts… See How This Goes… Day To Day Mentality…

Do you think long enough
Would be enough to stop?
Sat here thinking
Couldn’t shut it off
Can’t escape this feeling
Sitting here dying
Do you think if I had enough time
Would I get anything done?
Laid here thinking
Couldn’t shut it off
Can’t escape this feeling
Lying here dying
Do you think if I had enough money
Would I be able to buy this away?
Sat here thinking
Couldn’t shut it off
Can’t escape this feeling
That none of this matters

“You’re a smart man, but even smart men say dumb things”… Everyone around me…

Trying to latch on to something real
Tether myself to a place I don’t want to leave
A gravestone set float at sea
Burning embers laid upon lifeless corpses
Hearts still beating
Trying to come out of this alright
Fears breaking every bone
A slow death provided on bent knees
Burning desire the body no longer understands
Brain still thinking
Trying to latch on to something real
Tethered myself to you
A lifeless corpses with nothing to say
Burning embers laid upon a rotten brain
Body still hurting
Trying and failing
Latch myself into something to hold dear
Trying and failing
To live a life not thinking about you

“I will drown you in a bath tub of your own piss”… In response to being told that I was too dark… “Because shit is too thick”…

Don’t let the darkness seep into your soul
Only one way to let it go
No one wants to talk about it
Everyone knows exactly what I mean
How it feels each and every day
A sin, a curse, then what is life?
Each day the sun will rise
Then it will set
Feel as though somewhere, at some point
Mine got switched
She had a name, now barely a face
The darkness takes more than feelings
Covers each and every memory
What’s the difference?
Can’t even begin to say
At this point I wish there
Was a hole right where
My heart should be
Not in it to win anymore
Just trying to finish out the day

Some pretty long Broken Thoughts… I thought about turning them into poems… but they were written so long ago that the feelings are gone… Moments in time… that is the thing to remember when everything feels as though it will never go away… that this is all there ever was… ever will be… the darkness doesn’t last forever… it doesn’t go away… but it doesn’t last forever… all we can do is prepare for the next wave… making life what it is… is all there is… I’m off to kiss my wife… and play Minecraft with my daughter… stay positive… and make the most of every day… even if it is doing nothing at all… it is still something in the story that is your life…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Broken Thoughts… Got To Have You On My Wall…

Digging a grave
Same as you
Meet you there
If there even exists
Lighting the candle
For your soul
Bet I’ll be you there
Smile on my face
A shame buried in my heart
Take everything handed out
Take everything you are
Willing to give away
Fears, regrets, embarrassments
Demon born of the night
An asshole without a face
Found my purpose
Now there is no going back
Peel the curtain to reveal
Who it is that I have become
Stuck in place and waiting
Toothless grin smeared across
My face
Demented, fucked in the head
So sure you’d like to be me?

Yes, the words are blurry… Thoughts I see clearly…

It all sounds good on paper
Until you have to look the person
You are fucking in the eyes
Best of luck being the asshole
You’ve always wanted to be
Smile it is all so much simpler
On broken knees

Filling in the negative space with hate and rage…

Processing the guilt with no one left to forgive
Hate to say this but it’s the effect I give
Driving away at the highest speeds
Looking for a wall with my name
A rare occurrence I left back home
The cans all ran out but the scars still shine
A thick crust of blood and love
How can I say this in the best possible way
Get the fuck out my head
Warning signs were always there
I’ve lost my mind and that is just fine
So long as you take it with you when you die
A parting gift with too many ribbons
Pretty bow to hang it all from

Maggots falling of the trash can… demented image to get stuck in your head… watching the birds pick them off one by one… life taken in an instant… life continuing in a flash… the word life doesn’t make much sense… even when it does…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Broken Thoughts… This Is Where I Found You…

Waiting these feelings out
Digging a hole in the ground
Chiseling out the words
That will define me
Heart no longer beating
Got to keep moving
Crashed too many times to make sense
Burning
Loved you most when I knew
Your hate wasn’t a thought
But the truth
Wandering down a winding path
Destination no longer in the past
Watered down drinks
Dismissive, unclear adjectives

Feel like I’m suffocating in a room full of windows…

This Is Where I Found You

Cold wind blows in
A heart of steel and glass
Shattered pieces blowing in the wind
Eyes full of pain and tears
An endless idea of everything I bring
This is where I found you
As I watched you die
By my hand
By my thoughts
By my loneliness
Cold wind blows in
A heart made of dirt and sand
Shattered existence blowing in the wind
Hour glass full of time
Slipping from my hands
This is where I found you
As I watched you slowly drown
From my hands
From my thoughts
From my loneliness
Cold wind blows in
A heart made from the dead and the living
Shattered existence blowing in the wind
Head full of unrealized thoughts
An endless idea of everything I have
This is where I found you
As I watched you try to live
By my hand
By my thoughts
By my loneliness
There is no place you shall ever be
By my side and everything you’ve meant to me
Kill you as we slowly die
The demons always coming from inside

Why climb a mountain if you can walk up it…

Busy chasing ghosts
Let the dead go
Dead, dying, some sort of living
Let the dead sleep
They deserve what little peace
We can give them

Going through my notes… for the next couple of post… dark storm clouds are rolling in… feel like I am reading from a script… Not sure how the next few posts will be different from any other day… thinking of taking up a job as a weatherman… weather person?… I’m joking of course so, I don’t care much for being politically correct… offensive?… what do you come here for?.. coddling the sack is not how this all started… driven to a point where I’m willing to insert the shaft… this life style is not for the weak… but for those of us that have shit to do today… a constant grind… one more post and then I can be done… a lie I tell myself so I can move on… another day… another year… I’ll always be willing to rot here in place…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter