And Other Things From This Time Preview

Faithless

I have no faith in anyone who doesn’t have faith in me
Revolutionary I know, I had a dream once
Then woke up to reality
Subconscious thinking doesn’t mean anything
The world works on some other sort of level
Inherently fucked and grateful for the chance
It would be best if there is no God
How anyone could follow someone who abandoned them
Is beyond me, had a vision now I’m on another level
Invested in broken thoughts everything makes sense
Crossandra’s look great on your porch
Even better on your grave, a location we can’t avoid
Our ignorance rules our lives
So sick of justifying thoughts that should be common sense
The worlds not listening so maybe I should shut the fuck up
Where’s the fun in that
A constant stream of thought that means nothing at all

Emotionally Stressed

I’m so sick of these feelings
This need to please everyone
When I know damn well it’s not good enough
Putting myself out on a daily basis
Backing my ass up and begging for the pain
Gambling on not winning at all
Why can’t everyone see that it’s all useless like me
Maybe they do or maybe they’re just too stupid to let go
Oh, I forgot how immature I can seem
A constant reminder from the ones that have never even spoken to me
Cuts on my fingers make me as dumb as them
Must be in the water we drink and not in the way we think
Bleeding for a chance to say go fuck yourself
There’s nothing here except heartache
And yet here I stay torturing my soul
A shitty romance of blood and bone
I am the source of all my pain
Directly fucking myself day after day
If giving up was so easy then why hasn’t it worked already
I blame my mother for reasons I don’t know…

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I’m sure I have posted these before… running out of things to preview at this point… but they fit into my “work sucks” theme for this week… either directly or indirectly… strap in for Wednesday… long rant on that day… so I will keep this short and to the point… haha… have I ever?… 

Crossandra’s look great on your porch”… an indirect reference to my job… also I literally stole it off the side of one of our signs… does that make me a plagiarist?… have I just admitted guilt?… also a Crossandra is a type of flower… no idea what kind… like I said I stole the line… partly because it was sitting right in front of me while I was writing this poem and the other reason being I didn’t know what it was… inspiration can come from anywhere… 

 “Oh, I forgot how immature I can seem, A constant reminder from the ones that have never even spoken to me”… these two lines are based on something that actually happened… lost out on a promotion because I was too “immature” for such a position… so anyone who has read this blog long enough… probably already knows I didn’t take that well… especially because there was no merit in that comment… but of course I didn’t react in a very mature way… I gave into this person’s comment and became the very thing I proclaimed I wasn’t… fucking hate people… life… and reason at times…

I didn’t do anything extreme… still work for the company after all… I just kind of let go… my thought process was why hold it all together… if it is all for nothing?… so I switched departments and watched the last one burned to ashes… that same person was missing me, after all, was said and done… you want immature… I’ll give you immature… and wish you the best of luck… : )

Still trying to sell my soul across the internet at Threadless… and Amazon… If you are interested… And Other Things From This Time is available on Amazon… for free with Kindle Unlimited… paperback $8… and digital $5… 

Belonging To Nothing Preview

With Me

I can see every last thought you’d ever think
I live in your dreams though you call them nightmares
My thoughts are with you day and night
My blood moves you as though if to fight
Tomorrow a new day dawns
Yet another day for you and I
Teetering on the edge
How much control do you think you really command?
Let me out and I shall show you how to live
Let me go and I’ll erase everything you know
I am you and you are me
We say we are different
A lie we must believe
A lie which controls us through space and time
I can see your every thought
I live with you even if you have moved on
Death is but an idea
Withheld from the weak
There is no tomorrow
When you are with me

One and the Same

I can tell this is going to end badly
Like everything else in my memories
Holistic approach is nothing to be concerned about
Blood dripping off the walls
And all I know is all hope is gone
I feed my addiction
Through your pain
In the end, they are one and the same
So much for hope when wishing
Has gotten me nowhere
I know this is wrong
Though I can’t stop this never-ending fight
Between humanity and the night
I feel it all slip out of sight
And I wish that all of this didn’t
Feel so right
I think of ways
I dream in thoughts
In the end, they are one and the same

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As the title suggests these belong to nothing so I guess they belong to Chewing on Glass now… 

I should be pushing my wares… not really feeling at the moment… I’ll drop the links and you do what you will… ThreadlessAmazon… 

A Lie Preview

And I’m Back Again

The woman plops down every sex toy we have in the store, which isn’t much but she has managed to find every single one we offer. She’s found every single lubricant, every vibrating touch, she even brought up every men’s vibrating razor, and every battery to back them up. There is now a large pile of cherry, pineapple, warming, and her pleasure lubricants I now have to sort through piled up next to my register. I can’t lie and say that this doesn’t happen often because it does, but this has to be the largest assortment I have ever had to ring up. The woman gives me a look that says I don’t give a fuck. “What are you doing after work,” she asks? “Busy,” is all I can muster to her question. She’s not bad looking even for her age, but I have no interest in women right now. I already have too many problems to deal with in my life. “That’s too bad,” she sighs. “We could have had a good time,” she says. I nod my head to show her that I am listening. She isn’t even bothered that I turned her down. I know I am no catch or even that attractive, but it stings slightly in my cold dead heart that she doesn’t even care that I want nothing to do with her. “I’m dying,” she says out of nowhere as if this is something strangers say to each other every day. I start to bag up her purchases. “I have this fucked up cancer. Doctors say a couple of months and I’m dead. So, I decided what the hell I’m going to go on a trip. I’m going to go all around the United States and I’m going to have sex with anyone that has the slightest interest in me.” I have to admit that her desperation is turning me on a little bit, but I just nod my head again as if this is an acceptable response to what she has told me. “Figure I wasted most of my life being the conservative type and in the end, I’ll only die alone. So, who cares about what there is on the other side waiting for me if I already wasted this life so far,” tears start to form in her eyes. Truth be told I have no idea what to say to this lady. Inside I am dying, but inside she is truly dying. She hands me the money as we stand in silence. “You might want to get some condoms,” I finally say. She laughs as I hand her the change and tears fall from her cheeks. She takes the bags of supplies and begins to walk out of the store. I tell her good luck as she leaves.

My night went from bad to worse and most of it was all my fault. Have I rationalized suicide as an easy way out or am I really as fucked up as I think? I am confused about what I want and how things should be. A sheltered life has left me wondering if there’s something more or am I really living all there is to live. My lifelong depression kicks in and despite all my self-medicating I sulk the rest of the night wondering what or where it is that I went wrong. As if life is based on actual roads and at some point I just took a wrong turn, and all I need to do is turn around. I’m back here again, but what if I never left this place, to begin with? What if I never took a wrong turn I only got stuck in the mud? I still have time. I could still get out and make the right choice or even the wrong one but at least I wouldn’t be here. Where I am right now. I hate when I get like this. It’s like my mind gets so murky and sludge like that my thoughts make no sense to me, but yet I can’t shut them off. Even with the drugs, it’s like my thoughts are stuck in my head. I start to regret everything I have ever done or thought or felt and realize that no amount of regret can undo anything in a lifetime. Life is nothing more than an unfair existence and a waste of time. I could kill myself right now but what would be the point? What would I really be saying if I did it now right here stuck in the middle of nothing? All I would be saying is that I am weak, that I am pointless, and I don’t believe that I am any of these things at all. I may not be a good person by definition but I am not a bad person either. I’ve spent too much of my life on the line and just like that lady I fear that one day there will be nothing that actually defines me. Other than words like waste, pointless, and regret. Too many thoughts in my head.

 

Yes… she is a reference to the same woman in Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk… I’m not ashamed that I took something from someone I admire… we all take something from someone… if you haven’t read Fight Club… please do… though Survivor is a much better book… the kind of book I wish I could write but Chuck already did it… asshole… 

We’ve got shirts available over at Threadless… books written by an asshole over on Amazon… but I’m sure you are all linked out by now… haha… 

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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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And Other Things From This Time Preview

Before They Hurt

Everything feels isolating
On a grander scale
Between one and a hundred
Between heaven and hell
There exists a place no one knows
From bad to worse
Things become uglier
Before they hurt

Everything feels indifferent
On a daily scale
Between Mondays and Sundays
Between this week and last
There’s not much in between
From day to day
Things never change
Before they hurt

Time ticks by becoming
Worse, becoming better
What is time but a scale
For depression, for life
What is done can’t be undone
Life on a scale between
Heaven and Hell
Before they hurt they will finally know

Give It Time

The future is laid to rest
As the present prepares to be condemned
The past has but faded
As the present seem to forget
With each passing moment
We march to our own death
With each passing moment
We learn the meaning of regret
The future is but ashes
As the present burns on
The past is but an ignition
To the presents very condition
With each passing moment
We watch as it all goes to shit
With each passing moment
We know not what to forget

Two poems about time from a book title And Other Things From This Time… Would it seem odd for it to not contain any poems about time… Time is a thing I obsess over… Something I search for more of as I watch it tick by… Something I’m always out of… Yet stuck right in it… At work, I’m known for having great time management skills… At home, not so much… For some reason, I can’t seem to translate those skills once I leave automatic doors of death… I get home and it is as if all time just goes away… a constant issue I struggle with… Time is nothing more than a scale for distance… How far can we get before we run out of it?… Where will we be in life when it is all up?…

I’m not alone in this journey through time… but I’d be a fool if I didn’t believe I was… We are all on a constant until we are not… intersecting between each other… running with each other side by side as we go through all this time called life… no one can run your path for you… though they will try… no one can tell you what you see… though they will try… your path and your time has and always will be yours… use it how you see fit… do what needs to be done… but remember not all of our paths are going to the same place…

As always we have things for sell over at Threadless… No one said you can’t look good on your path… though I’m unsure if these designs will help with that… haha… We also have books for sale over at Amazon… Please leave a review… even bad ones help… even if they only leave a smile on my face… this fire burns just fine all on its own but everyone could use more fuel… burning down the world is never as easy as it seems… 

 

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Drinking Bleach Preview (Vulgar)

The Trial

I’m feeling dangerous as the Judge call me to the witness stand despite the fact that I can’t even wipe my own ass if I wanted to. The law has me tied down. Got me on a leash, but they’re still scared. They don’t understand my madness. They don’t understand what makes me tick. That’s why I am here. So they can get some insight into what I am. Pussies. If they really wanted to know what I am they wouldn’t have me locked down like this. My lawyer says that if they question me on the stand at least I can get off with an insanity plea, but I’m not crazy. I’m the sanest mother fucker in the room.

As the bailiff walks me to the witness stand I get a smell of the perfume from one of the ladies in the jury. It smells of lilies and it smells so sweet I forget just what I am if only for a minute. Takes me back to when I was young. Takes me back to where I wish I could forget, but what’s done is done. I can feel my anger come back to me. I try to pull apart my chains, but it’s no use. I can’t tell which one of them is wearing it, but it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m locked down to god damn tight to do anything about it. Is there no human decency left in the world? When they sit me down in the chair I can see the crowd of people that was once behind me. A woman in a pink dress amongst the sea of black stares at me from the crowd, and she doesn’t look happy to be here. My lawyer said that some of the victim’s families would defiantly be here, but don’t let it get to me. I pucker my lips and give her a “kiss,” as I try to remember which one of my victims she reminds me of. I remember each one of the faces of the woman I have taken. The court is charging me with thirteen counts of murders, but I don’t have the heart to tell them it’s more like thirty. If they can’t find the bodies what concern is it of mine? Something about the woman in pink seems so familiar to me. It is her eyes. Yes, her eyes are the same as Heather’s eyes. They have the same look that Heather gave me as I strangled her to her last breath. God the fun her and I had after that. I have to assume that she is Heather’s sister or I’m sorry victim number six’s sister, but looks can be deceiving. There is no deceiving how Heather looks, however, not after I finished pounding that shovel in her face. No, no more pretty eyes for Heather. I can’t remember what I did with that shovel. Hopefully, I put it back in the shed. It was a really nice shovel I would really hate for it to get damaged. I wonder if they have found all of Heather anyways. They must have found enough of her or why else would the lady in the pink dress be here.

The lady in the pink’s dress is not the only woman with her eyes on me right now. What can I say the ladies love me and I’d hate to disappoint them all, but I’m a little too much to handle. The prosecutor is burning holes into the back of my head. I give her what she wants and give her a little smile to let her know I see her staring me down. She wears her emotions on her sleeve. My smile does nothing more, but piss her off which is all that I wanted. The things I could do to this woman would probably just get me thrown right back in this chair, but I’ll settle with just fucking with her mind for now. She’s not to bad looking either except for the butch haircut she is nearly perfect. If she grew her hair out she’d be easily fuckable with a knife. I can feel my dick getting harder just thinking about making her scream.

The jury looks hung or maybe that’s just how I want to see them swaying from side to side like twelve balls bouncing off one another. The judge breaks up my image of the jury swaying by demanding I put my hand on the bible. I tell the judge I’d rather not. The bible doesn’t do anything for me I say. I politely suggest if he wants me to swear on a book then he should bring me a copy of Everything Shits, as it is more relevant of a book than the bible. The crowd in the stands begins to sigh and talks like the sheep in the flock that they are. I’m the devil they whisper as if I can’t hear them. Wonder how many of them would put their hands on a book that used to be slammed across their face? The Bible reminds me of blood, the Bible reminds me that I have done something wrong, the Bible reminds me of God, and how there is no God. The Judge pounds his little hammer smacking the wood several times before ordering everyone to be quite in his deep voice between the horrible smashing. I ask him to please stop doing that. He tells me he will do as he pleases in his courtroom. A simple apology would have been sufficient, but no he has to be like every other asshole in the room. He asks me in a rude tone to put my hand on the bible so we can move on already. My lawyer reminds the judge that if I don’t want to swear on the bible it is my choice to do so or not. The prosecution adds another emotion to her sleeve, annoyance, before demanding we move on already. I am really beginning to enjoy myself up here in this chair. I feel so powerful as the prosecutor begins her questioning.

She asks me a general question to test my sanity. She asks why I am here in court today. Well she asks, “Why are you here in court today?” But is it not the same question? I explain to her that I was simply out at the local supermarket picking up some milk and accidentally wandered in here. She smiles in that way a woman smiles when she is very angry. In her defense she held back her anger quite nicely, but the armor is coming down. We all know why the accused is here Mrs. Nole please move on. The judge finally made a good point. “Since we all know why you are here Mr. Walters do you mind discussing any of the crimes you are being charged with today?” “No, not at all ask away.” “What happened to victim number six, Heather Woods?” “Going to have to refresh my memory, which one is that again?” “Heather is the young woman who went missing on December 30th three years ago. You claimed that you remember her and picked her out of a group of photo of missing people. Did you not do this Mr. Walters?” “Oh yes Heather, blonde hair?” The attorney nods at me. “Yes Heather was quite special to me. I let her live for a while before I dismantled every single part of her. I heard they still haven’t found all the pieces. Is that true?” “Sadly yes, but we found enough of her to link you to her missing persons case.” “Aww that’s too bad, but then again I imagined they never would find all of her. It’s quite impossible actually.” “Where is the rest of her?” “Hard to say it’s been three years now and medically speaking she is pretty much gone. Say why is she so important anyway? I mean I dismembered and raped and tortured a lot more than just one girl.” “He has a point counselor, but I have yet to hear yours.” “I have a point your honor. My point is why did you do all of this?” “That is your point? Really? There must be better things to ask me than why. I’m missing fucking shows here.” The judge slams his hammer down once again. “You will not use that type of language in my courtroom.” He is really starting to piss me off. I’m trying not to show my anger, but it is getting harder to keep my cool. “You liked to be in control don’t you Mr. Walters?” “What do you mean by that? Don’t we all like to be in control?” “What I mean is that you like to be in control and when you are not you act violently.” My lawyer stand up, “your honor what does that have to do anything? Mrs. Nole hasn’t asked a single question about this case. My client has already admitted to killing these women, what more can she really want from my client?” “I want to hear the truth. I want to know that Mr. Walters truly know what he did.” “Well that is a first I don’t believe I have ever heard of the prosecution trying to get a suspect off for insanity.” “I’m not insane your honor.” The judge slams his hammer. “No one said you were insane Mr. Walters.” My anger is at its peak.

“Stop slamming that fucking thing or so help me I will tear a hole in your throat just to watch you die you piece of shit”, I scream at the top of my lungs. The court goes into a frizzy and the judge slams the hammer yet again. “Order, order in the court what did you say to me, Mr. Walters?” But it is too late for words and despite how well they have me restrained I manage to get out of my chair. I jump as high as my limitations will let me which isn’t very high. The judge is scared out of his mind. He tries to move away from me as I lunge at him with my mouth open. I want to bite his fucking nose off or any part of him I can get my face near. The only part of him I am able to catch with my mouth is his right hand. My teeth grip the side of his hand and I can taste his skin in my mouth. I bit down as hard as I can on his soft flesh. I feel the warm taste of iron flood my mouth as he screams in agony. By this time the guards have gotten a hold of the back of my orange jumpsuit. As they attempt to pull away from the judge’s hand I can feel the soft tissue ripping further. I can hear the judge beginning to scream get this fucking psycho off of me. Get him the fuck off of me now. Just before a bailiff hits me in the face with the back of a shotgun I can feel a large chunk of flesh pull away from the judge’s hand. The hit hurts, but it doesn’t knock me out. I spit out the part of the judge’s hand that is still left in my mouth before telling the bailiff to go fuck his mother for me. The second hit to my face knocks me out cold, but I went out smiling.

Demented… Insane… Perfectly human?… who knows… this is the end of the story arc that runs through out my short story book, Drinking Bleach… Now available on Kindle and Amazon… Don’t forget to leave a messed up review… every little bit helps… Also check out my Threadless shop if you are looking for something new to wear… Storming the beaches of my mind for more to say… Got a playlist up on Spotify… Lemonade and Glass… check it out…

https://chewingonglass.threadless.com/

And Other Things From This Time Preview

Anything at All

If I was to do it
I’m sure that I’d fuck it up somehow
It’s not in the method but the effort
At which we fail
I couldn’t do it so I sat staring
At the windows with the little bits
Little drops of water
They won’t go anywhere but disappear
Not the same but just like me
I know this must seem like a call
But in the end, I’m telling you it isn’t
I tried to write a letter
To explain just where my head is at
Though to be honest I’m not sure
If it is even attached anymore
Some days it feels as though it has all but vanished
That I am nothing more than an empty shell
And that’s okay but it isn’t
I wish I had better words to express how I feel
Though sadly I do not
Always wanted all the answers to all the questions
But lately, I find that I don’t want anything at all

Before They Hurt

Everything feels isolating
On a grander scale
Between one and a hundred
Between heaven and hell
There exists a place no one knows
From bad to worse
Things become uglier
Before they hurt

Everything feels indifferent
On a daily scale
Between Mondays and Sundays
Between this week and last
There’s not much in between
From day to day
Things never change
Before they hurt

Time ticks by becoming
Worse, becoming better
What is time but a scale
For depression, for life
What is done can’t be undone
Life on a scale between
Heaven and Hell
Before they hurt they will finally know

Two more from my poetry collection, And Other Things From This Time… Now available on Kindle and Amazon… Free on Kindle Unlimited…. I have wears available on Threadless as well… Things are coming together… Slowly, but more and more is happening… Don’t forget to leave a review… even a this is writing?… helps… Thank you for stopping by…

https://chewingonglass.threadless.com/