Breaks Over, Welcome to Hell

Why did I even come here? It surely wasn’t for the great fucking scenery that’s for sure. I really can’t answer the question I am faced with every morning I look out the window of my house. This town is a dying community of people still trying to hold on to a time that was better than this. And I am here to say that there is no such thing. I think it is easier for this town to not believe in reality. Too just spread the lies as each generation keeps dropping out. The town is broke, hell the whole region is, we carry a city on our backs, and float in shit waiting to hear how the state government will fuck us over again. This town is caught between fucked and truly fucked. What’s left of the jobs not sent to China are actually being run by people who aren’t even from this area. The people with all the money, the rich, are all from other parts of America, and they don’t stay long after realizing just how decrepit this town has become. The rest of America is under the impression that when you live in New York you live in the city with all the bright lights and all of the future at your feet. When in truth the city is only five hours away, but it feels more like it is on the other side of the world. Jamestown is worlds apart from what other people think of New York and some days it feels light years away from where I am anymore. Why am I here? Why is anyone here?

I pick at a scab on my hand and it starts to bleed. It starts to bleed a little bit and then it begins to bleed a little bit more and then a little bit more. The blood dripping, flowing down my finger and finding its way into the palm of my hand. The scab was once a blister that I tore. The blister is from the last time I played drums. It had been a while since I played drums and the calluses that once proved I was good at something have long disappeared. Why did I move here? Better yet why did she move us here? That’s right she wanted to come here it was all her choice after I told her what my mom said. It was her suggestion that we come and then she was gone. She threw me aside like a piece of rotten meat. Why did I move here? Why did I move anywhere? The cigarette I have been smoking is slowly making its way to my fingers and I know I should put it out, but I just stare at it. I can feel the warmth of the fire burning within the cigarette, proof that I can at least feel something. The drug store bandage that once covered the scab I just can’t stop picking lies on the dirty floor next to last night’s attempt to forget just what is wrong with me. My floor is littered with dirty clothes and trash, I realize yet again I have let myself go.

Tomorrow classes start back up at the local community college and I must return to further prove nothing is really wrong. If there is one thing I hate it is that fucking school. Why did I move back here? So I could complete college after dropping out of the last one due to a lack of interest. Now the only way I can make it through a single class is to numb myself into a coma. At least the drugs are good for something. The blood is nearly dry in the palm of my hand and I begin to pick at the trail of dried blood. The blood falls off my skin like little red snowflakes. It’s four a.m. and I have my first class in less than six hours. I move from the chair in the dining room to my bed that I moved into the living room. My pillow smells like months of sweat and there are white mucus trails all over it. I flip my pillow over to the other side and realize I’ve already done that before. The breaks over and now I must return to hell. Tomorrow will be the same as the last.

Orginally from A Lie… 

Be Anything You Want to Be

We all have something to distract us. For some t is things. Mountains and mountains of shit with no apparent meaning. For others it is sex. One if not the greatest distractions there is or could ever be. For those with this affliction, they have yet to experience one of many types of accidents. Whether it be STDs or even worse pregnancy. After either one of those horrific resolutions though sex becomes just becomes a meaningless distraction as what they were trying to avoid in the beginning. It isn’t the sex they crave it is everything that comes with it. The power, the chase, the distraction because is that the essence of life? To avoid actually living it. Anything to avoid having to go through life would be ideal.

Working nine to five, too much life. Taking the children to school, too much life. Killing oneself literally, figuratively is a sin.  Whether you believe in a higher power or not. This distraction is a sin. Unless of course you do it in moderation and drag it out. Life has a purpose for you, not God. These ideas are radical in every sense of the word. Why though? Why must we have a purpose? How could everyone ever have an honest reason to live? These questions escape my brain. I have no answers only more questions about things that don’t matter. Am I lost? Sure, who isn’t anymore?

I have yet to find my purpose in this life. Though I have found more distractions to occupy a lifetime. Some of which have caused me more pain than pleasure at this point. Not sure how to go about erasing past sins, past regrets. I can only hope those affected by them forgive me as I look for my purpose.

A burden lifted off your chest
Placed in my heart
A space I called for you
Now nothing more than a rotten corpse
It will take time to understand
Understand how I feel about your betrayal
A denial I refuse to believe
Though we’ve all known it is true
Things will never be the same
We’ll try but we know
This is the end to all that we know
No going back, I’m done, caught up with you
Trust is something that should never be believed
Trust in no one because someone will let you down
Everything in the past has been our future all along

Waiting for the last piece of me to die…

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Everything is not okay… but there is nothing that can be done that hasn’t already been tried… There is only so much we can do in life and trying is the biggest one… Nothing wrong with that… At least we can say that we tried… 

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Broken Thoughts

Sharing in your tragedy
A loveless relationship built on pain
Discuss our inner fears
Friendship only meant to get us through a time
Long lasting, forever scared
Torn between two ideas
One I’ve had another only thought of
A dream of what you became
Sad, sickly, lonely GIF of a man
Spoke my peace now I know why
Now I understand the silence…
I feel as though my dreams have become meaningless and nothing more than a lie I tell myself to fall asleep. I prop myself up on this altar that I am something, that I will be something. But in truth I am nothing, never was something. Each goal nothing more than a chase. Chasing down some dream. One right after other down a rabbit hole that never progresses. Everything is right there, but I’m stuck in a stalemate with myself. Spinning tires until something happens. I start over a lot. More than anyone should. If I’m good at anything it is starting over. Over and over, but I’m always left with this empty feeling. This unhappiness so, naturally I start all over again. I’m not at the point that nothing fills this emptiness. Nothing curbs it long enough to even enjoy the process. Settling for everything at this point. Settling for nothing because it all feels the same. Easing into old age. I want nothing more than to want nothing at all.
Standing naked against the rain
Not sure if this is normal or spiritual
Judging others is never what I came to say
Broken down I think this behavior is okay
A seismic shift of how we are meant to feel
Digging up bodies left to rot in the past
Moving on was never meant to last
Reflection is harder when you’re the cause of it all
The hurt means something overall
A cosmic rift of how we are meant to be
Here comes the rain, here comes the flood
Don’t think anyone will judge
If you get out now
Only the strong will survive this shit
Adolescent maybe
Layman’s terms are easier to understand
The biblical notion that all things are rotten
The idealistic ideal is better soft spoken
I wished and it came true
Now I’m just as fucked as you

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Waiting on some emails that may change my life… Been waiting for years… Mostly inside my head… I know that it is going to happen… One of these days… things will feel so different… that I will miss the way that it was… because I am human… Because no one ever wants what they got… Maybe I should go check my mailbox?… 

Dragging my feet across the coals of everything I knowPeddling my wares over at these fine establishments… ThreadlessAmazon… Learning something new today… because why the fuck not?… 

Post Script of the Unimaginative

I’m torn between what I have become and what I want. A lazy layabout who only dreams of becoming something rather than doing anything about it. I’m so lost in this pragmatic world of no sleep isolation of the world. I think ways of getting myself out of this hell I have created, but there is no way out.  There is no green grass on the other side only more sacrifice that I am no longer willing or able to fight for. If I could I would do nothing and I already am. Yet day after day visions and thoughts of doing better bounce in and out of my head. I’m trapped in this depression called life though I am not truly sad. There is nothing wrong with me I just can’t seem to leave this place.

This constant war between sleep and no sleep has left me feeling devastated. It has left me feeling as though I am searching for something. As if I am missing a huge part of this life. In essence, I’m sure that I am not. I am actually living life as it comes and goes one day at a time. This is life but dreamers got to dream. I dying soul has got to believe in more than this. Whether it is about what we have or what we want.

My mind is flooded with too many thoughts to actually concentrate on anything going on around me. To tell a story, to live a lie requires way too much effort at this time. I wish I could get away. Shed this sickness once and for all. Take some time for myself and worry about nothing at all. I think of these things as I stumble through life. Hope for a day it might happen, but I know me and I will never let this happen. I can’t let go. I can’t move on. My thoughts are locked into nothing at all.

I once wrote that my freedom is a six-foot ditch. My salvation lies in a grave that I dig, we dig every day. I’m at liberty to believe I have such gifts and insights to get me through all this crap. But I know deep down I’m full of more shit than anyone who chooses to stand next to me. Anyone I pass as I float through this life. A constant war with normalcy. A constant struggle to be something I’m not. I believe I am better than you because I am an asshole. Because I am human or at least I would like to believe that is my answer.

If I could change one thing it would take a lifetime to decide what that change would be. A lifetime wasted on something out of my control. I have been dealt the hand that I have been dealt and I must continue to live with what I got. These are the rules. This is the game. Easier said than actually done. Fuck this game and fuck this day. Maybe tomorrow I will feel different. Maybe all this bitching will seem dumb. But right here, right here at this moment, it all feels like a waste of time.

It all seems pointless. Why go on fighting if there is nothing to fight for? What am I struggling with? Money, fame? I want none of these things yet I can’t stop thinking about how my life would never be the same. Fuck the money and fuck the fame. I just want the freedom that comes with this grave. This home I have built for myself. A drawn out thought that has left me here all along.

 

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Selling my soul one t-shirt at a time… click here to join in on the sacrifice… we also have totes… because why not… 

We have books as well… Drinking Bleach, A Lie, and And Other Things From This Time… Now available… please leave a review… someone reads them… I only like the bad ones.. they make me smile… or feel something inside… unsure what they do to my lifeless corpse… 

 

And Other Things From This Time Preview

Felt No More

I gave up, then gave in
Still, you’re unhappy with what
We’ve become
I gave you everything
Only to end this with nothing
Yet I’m the asshole
What it means to be a man
I’m the one who should wear
The villainous mask because it fits
I’m sorry I guess
For what I don’t know
Maybe by now, I should
But I held on too long to nothing
To really know at this point
Tomorrow is a new day
And I’m sure you will find a way to ruin it for me
Love is nothing more than emotion
I wish I had never felt before

Because No One Said Don’t

I don’t even know why I bother
The answer is clearly already there
If this were a poker game
I’d had lost three hands ago
Even if you don’t count the anti
I’m down about three lifetimes
Can I get your number must be on par
With selling your soul to the devil
Well I guess I’m here to collect
But you don’t seem so sure I even exist
Quietly though I’ll only seem creepier
Over time
Times up and here I sit wondering
What you are up to
Its late so I guess I’ll never know
There’s a sign that says welcome to reality
But I’ve only chosen to be literate at this point
The ants and the bugs seem to think I’m weird too
So it’s not just you or the crowd
Your boyfriend is way stronger than his five foot frame
Would suggest
The laughing feels better with swallowed teeth
In the end, I was lost so you’re welcome
To tell me that all along I was wrong
How was I supposed to know
Your short skirt meant you weren’t single
Appearances are deceiving unless of course
It’s tattooed on your skin
Tomorrows a new day but I think I am just fine right here

Fucking relationships… now before everyone is like I thought you were married… why are you asking for numbers?… Because No One Said Don’t… is partially about a friend from that time… I feel for anyone who is single or searching for someone… I had this friend… great guy… but he was desperate… and you could smell his desperation from around the corner… he would constantly ask how I found my wife… wanted advice on how to find someone… etc… we all know this person or are this person… no need to cut fresh wounds… but the truth for me… is dumb fucking lucky… I’ve been married for eight years and together for fourteen years… not bragging… but all I’ve been trying to do since day one is not fuck this up… has everything been perfect?… fuck no… A Lie wasn’t written through a lovely time in my life… though that book is fiction… we all know there is truth in fiction… 

There are always ups and downs… relationships aren’t based on movies or perfection… shit at times they aren’t even based on love… I love my wife but there are times I hate that lady… that’s the truth… but I would rather walk down a road of razor blades then be without her in my life… Same for my daughter… there are times that she drives me beyond insane… she has tested my patience more than anyone on planet Earth… but every time she skips a breath I feel as though I am seconds from death… 

If I had advice on relationships stop looking for the perfect partner and try looking for the perfect friend… I get human nature we want to fuck… but stop and think can I stand this person when I can’t?… If I couldn’t would I still care?… my wife is sexy as fuck but I’m not in love with her body… I’m in love with her… Relationships are work… that doesn’t mean you have to force anything to make it happen… there isn’t a checklist… a certain path… and remember compromise isn’t settling… never settle… someone is always going to be them and that is them… you accept them or you don’t… and there is nothing wrong with that… we all have friends that we had as children that are strangers now… we all grow… the key is finding someone you can grow with… that and dumb fucking luck… 

I’m not saying that a shirt from Threadless will help you find true love or a friend… but who is to say that it won’t?… At the very least it might get you noticed… Books are available as well over at Amazon… These will not help you find love but they will help pass the time while you look… Remember being you is all that you can do… 

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5 Words I Like and One I Hate… Faggot

Vicarious, kaleidoscope, duality, but, and nihilism. Well, that was easy and now for the one, I don’t.

No one can remember the very first time they hear a word. I thought I did and I was wrong. This was intended to be a one part story, but it quickly turned into a two-part story. One I will have to tell in reverse.  As I was saying no one knows the first time they hear a word, but they can remember when the first time a word impacted them. Faggot is one of those words. The first time I heard it. The first time I felt its impact. I was walking home from school.

I was in the 6th grade so maybe all of twelve or possibly going on thirteen. There I was minding my own business walking home on the side of the road. At the time I lived in this tiny town in Illinois. A farming town not far from St Louis. This has nothing to do with anything. I’m just setting the location of the incident. Don’t be fooled ignorance can be found anywhere on this planet. Walking through the grass on the side of the road when a car of teenagers drove by. One of the assholes screams faggot at the top of their lungs.

The sound of his voice was enough to lock this memory in my brain for a lifetime. At the time I didn’t even know what the word meant. What he meant by it. But I didn’t need to. The word itself was enough for me to know it meant something awful. So vulgar in its delivery. Slammed into my face as though it had anything to do with who I was or what I was doing. I didn’t need to know that it had anything to do with being gay. I didn’t need to know that word’s meaning to know that I never wanted to use it.

Being young, being scared, being confused by this strange and awful word I began to cry. I ran the rest of the way home with tears down my face. My mom recognized something was wrong as soon as I entered the house. She went into to full-on mother mode. “What happened? Are you okay? Who do I need to kill?” It took a moment for me to get it out.  I didn’t want to say it let alone hear it again.

“Some kids in a car called me faggot.”
“Well, are you?”
“No.”
“Then it doesn’t matter. Words don’t have meaning unless you give them one. So some assholes called you a faggot. They are assholes. You gave them the power to let them hurt you. All they were trying to do was hurt you and you let them. People are going to say horrible things. They might even say them about me. Doesn’t matter unless you let it matter.”
I stopped crying.

That’s the thing about words. They don’t really mean anything. Placeholders for a feeling, a thought to cut like a knife. But no one said you had to let them cut you. I carry that message with me every time someone tries to stab me with their vulgar, easy exit words. I hear their bullshit attempts to piss me off and I laugh. I’m the biggest faggot on planet earth. What else you got?

Part 2

Words have a way of haunting you even when you think that they don’t. I said and I thought the first time I heard the word faggot was when those kids drove by. Maybe that was the first time I thought it impacted me as a person, but during the writing, I realized it wasn’t. I thought about just forgetting the whole thing. Thought about pushing it back down like I had for most of my life, but why should I?

Digging deep into the back of my mind. The first time that the word took something away from me was when I was a child. No idea what age I was. I could ask my mom, but we don’t talk about that time of our lives. It was during the reign of my mom’s second husband. The dark times of my life. The times I try to forget, but the memories always come back up. Stories for another time possibly.

As a child, I was really into gymnastics. No idea why, but I was. Maybe I saw it on the Olympics or something. My mom signed me up for classes and away I went. Every Thursday I got to learn something new for my new passion in life. Until one Thursday my mom couldn’t drop me off for my class. So my stepfather had to. Had to take some precious time out of his busy schedule of being an asshole to drop me off. Looking back after all the shit he put us through it doesn’t surprise me what he said when he picked me up and an hour later. “Did the little faggot enjoy his gymnastic class?”

I cried. He hit me like he always did. “Toughen up.” I don’t remember much after that. I know that I didn’t go to any more classes. I know that my mom always wondered why I lost interest in it and I’m sure I wondered, just like I do today, why I didn’t say anything.

 

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If you see something… say something… If something is happening… say something… I know the hardest thing we can do in this world is ask for help… I’ve lived through it myself… My mom got it the worst… I don’t blame her for what happened during that period.. but I do wish she had asked sooner… No one deserves to be abused verbally or physically… it is not normal and it is not okay…

Get Help 

Broken Thoughts

Locked inside my head with nothing to say
The bugs dance beside my lifeless corpse
Pulling bits of paper from my soul
More scraps to add to the shit pile
How long can I drag this feeling out?
A lifetime surrounded by borrowed time
The darkness sinks its dirty fangs into my neck
Reminding me I’ve always been this way
A denial twist loaded with truth
The ashes pile up as each breath takes my life
Digging my own grave with a smile

See you when I get there
See you later if you’re lucky
Can’t take what  you don’t own
If your soul is for sale
I guess you won’t be taking that either
She won’t stop saying things that she doesn’t believe in
Spreading lies fortified in her head
A lost day filled with silence and loathing
Taking out my frustrations on an empty soul
Taking in everything I think I deserve
Time has a way of taking everything
Not sure any of this is even real anymore
An isolation covers my walls
A desperation fills my heart
A broken thought is all I know
Poisoning the well
Inhaling the disgust
How I wish
How I hope
That you are well
A lie that I believe in
A faith that can discuss
And all of this
Everything last thing
Is all that I know
A slow death without any pain
A choking feeling and no regrets
And they told me I was fine
Nailing myself to the cross
Bringing myself to my knees
How I wish
How I hope
That you are well
A truth that I don’t believe in
A rationalization locked in your head
And all of this
Is only how it feels

Encase you were wondering I’m having a great day… Life keeps piling on the bull shit… but I just keep smiling… because who really gives a fuck?… immature… at times we all are… I have no faith in anything… but they say that the Lord gives us as much as we can handle… If he could stop… that would be awesome… if she doesn’t that’s cool too… Take each day for what it is worth… 

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We sell our souls at these fine establishments… Threadless and Amazon…  I need to get some fancy buttons like Fears has got… check it out…  Also, check out Likely Red Press Support Independent Press… well just read… reading is important… but I hope if you got this far… you already know that… A book a day… brings the crazies closer to the frame…