A moment of jumbled clarity?
01/09/2004 06:10 a.m.
I have epiphanies all the time.. these little moments of clarity.. these movie moments of sadness.. these distillations of seconds into slow motion memories.. the smells.. the feelings…

I wish I could show you the wonders that happen inside my head.. since words fail me now..

I am a writer.. I guess… I wouldn’t consider it my day job…But I do find solace in a blank piece of paper.. and having that feeling… that indescribable and then.. making it happen.. transferring my madness to logic.. my lunacy to literacy.

I think it’s shit. Rubbish.. all of it.. I honestly can’t stand to read it… I see a million holes in it.
I see three dots everywhere, diction of a retard and story telling that can’t even touch the masters of written word.

I have delusions of grandeur.. Like you’re going to love this or something.

Like you’ll get the sarcasm that rolls off my lips like waves in the oceans..

I love writing. It’s the only thing I have left.

Well my latest mental mind block distillation has brought me to the conclusion that we’re all stuck in these cycles.. these little circles of trained emotional responses. I see them everyday. I walk into the supermarket and just see sadness in everyone’s eyes. This is a sad nation… On the whole, we have sadness in our soul.

I used to believe that happiness was what you make of it.
You can fake to be happy. But you have to be sad to recognize what being happy is for.

I’ve squandered my happiness.. I’ve partied my life away for a long decade.. gone the road of the lizard king.. to broaden my life.. I’ve traveled.. been up and down the eastern seaboard.. Seen Canada’s finest, and even got to see cali and in all of its raving splendor and hung over glory… been to Reno and seen more Harleys than you could shake a 20 bag at drunk on the streets in the world smallest Burger king. Seen Times square when there was no traffic and didn’t go to the top of the world trade because.. well honestly.. I’m was afraid of heights and we were broke. I have a picture I took of the skyline at sunset while in the car.. Panoramic even…
My happiness has flowed like a river. But then you come to the point in your life where you have to accept certain truths. Happiness is truly what you make of it. You make it. I’m depressed now because I put myself in a horrible situation. I was braced ahead of time…but not really. Happiness to be would be security.. but I’ll never attain that. I’m too cynical about myself. Hell.. look at this…I just end up breaking myself down in these things. Maybe it’ll show you a piece of me.. maybe it’s just the rattling of a madman.
I know the end is near. Not mine… but this situations end. I am not afraid. I’m unsure about the role I play in this life of mine.
Should I devote my time to working a 9-5 slave job for 7 an hour…Hoping that things will turn out for the better… Open other doors in my life that I’ve denied myself? Just out of fear of failure? I look back on my life and see one failure after another.. another life just wasted by missed chances and regrets.

My new years wish was this… No more missed chances in life… I don’t have time, I mean Jesus, I got hair sprouting out of my ears.. we all know getting old sucks. I don’t feel old…well.. maybe in the morning… but I know I’m old… Most people my age have kids.. a life, if you want to call it that…Me? I have nothing but a bunch of poems and a broken heart.

I’ve really spent a lot of time trying to figure out if I should even try to have a relationship with anyone anymore and by my actions.. I’ve basically cut everyone out of my life… I have a few people I talk to.. but it’s nothing like before… I’ve always had someone in my life to spend my time with… be it romantic or just plain friendship.. but now? Now I don’t even care. It’s sad looking at it on paper.. but you know, I really don’t miss them all as much as I thought. I’m a solitary person.. always have been.. I love silence, I love time to sit down and be introspective about myself and others… I’ve been told I think too much.. but I feel that I don’t think enough. Or I don’t think enough about the things that are important. That too will change this year…

I don’t read enough.. I spend all this time rambling on paper, yet I don’t read as much.. and there’s so much too read…If only we could stop time to consume media… ahhh… I’d love to digest a whole Stephen king book in a hot second. Maybe then someone could stomach my library… hell.. maybe just a poem or two…

When I was a kid, I thought I was going to be a rock star… My dad was a rock star… at least in my eyes…
He was in a punk band called the Thin Lads… They were a motley lot, but in their own way… trying to make it somehow… they didn’t.. but my father did get a lot of lessons out of it… As, I.. was probably the coolest kid on the block.. Who else’s dad had a Mohawk and looked like a ton of bricks? My dad rawked.
I remember the lead singer the best I guess.. maybe it was just cuz he was such a shit head…but I’ve noticed the lead singers always are assholes… Well.. I can’t say all of them.. I have met my share of great musicans.. I’ve said it before, but I feel like I’m the Forrest Gump of music… I got to work with all this great talent.. hands on work.. getting to party with them after the gig.. it was f’n awesome. I miss that job.. more than my 55 dollar an hour job for sprint, or my fame as an overnight DJ for a local radio station where I was called ‘on the special line’ to get off the mic.. Ahhh.. Memories…

When I was a kid, people would ask me what I wanted to be… and I had a thousand answers…
Now… Hell.. I ask kids just for ideas…

I’ve always been good at anything I do…I’m versatile… it would show by my resume.. I could do almost any job if you gave me the chance.. which is scary to me.. since it really makes it hard to stick with a career… I’ve gotten burned out on many of my jobs.. I mean who doesn’t? I’ve been happy at most of them, but the key to being happy at a job is the people you work with. If you work with miserable people all the time, you won’t last long at a job… If you work with great people.. honest, communicative, heartfelt people.. You will find yourself happy to be making shit pay for the time you spend working as a team with those people. I’ve found myself making 13 dollars a night, but being happy I got to work with someone I could talk to and joke a kid around with. I miss those days.

As you’ve noticed.. I don’t tend to want to write about my life. I might type a lot.. but I feel like it’s overstepping a boundary to know these personal things about me.. but in another way.. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me. Even though.. I probably won’t read this again.. maybe if someone points something out.. but odds are.. this is set adrift.. and you’ve found it. What you take from it, that’s you’re call. I have no answers. They might seem like answers, but I’m still trying to figure out the questions.

Someone told me I speak in poetic riddles. I do.. But as I said before.. these are probably just the ramblings of a madman…

When I was a kid.. they locked me up for evaluation.. which ended up lasting about 8 months…
It’s strange when you get locked up.. how the world is so clinical.. how the lack of human contact effects you.. how it’s supposed to make you feel safe.. but how could you feel safe locked in a place with people who you know share the same background? Such a farce… I remember how this one time, I was taken for an MRI.. and they drugged me since I couldn’t sit still.. it was like cough medicine, came in little containers that you might think creamer was in… the world was spinning and light hurt my eyes like never before.. I guess it’s a bitch when you get a hangover from opiates when you’re 8…
I was raped a few times while I was ‘in treatment’… nothing to write home about.. actually, it was weird being locked away.. much like Jail.. You’re on the inside and they are on the outside…over those walls and fences.. the world.. and inside… You are alone. You can’t make friends…You only have the staff.. I’ve always been a kiddie Casanova.. I would flirt even at a young age.. women always interested me.. so it was natural that I would get a crush on one of the staff.. her name was Cathy.. She had to be a psychologist, I remember us talking a lot.. I enjoyed talking to her.. she made me feel safe… I haven’t felt safe talking to someone in a long time… I guess that comes with knowing horrible things about yourself…
I remember how I looked forward to the nightshift… She let me stay up late one night.. and somehow, I ended up letting her tape me up with masking tape.. It was the first time in my life, that someone goofed around with me.. I remember those minutes… even though they are 20 years old… I used to think I had a horrible memory.. but I’ve found.. through the years.. that I remember the moments that matter.
I never saw Cathy again after I was taken out… They wanted to commit me for life.. they said I’d end up hurting myself or someone else. I guess they were right… It seems in my life, all these choices I’ve made.. all I’ve ever done is enable myself to hurt myself. It’s a sad tale.. which I guess is why I hate to talk about it.
I’m not here to drag anyone down, or go woe is he… I don’t want that. If I was to want anything in the world.. it would be to see that even tho… Horrible things have happened… there’s a bright side…You’re alive. You might be dead tomorrow.. But you’re alive now.

I’ve spent the last 10 years thinking that.. and that’s probably enabled me to have some of the best times of my life. Fuck it, live for now.. Tomorrow you’ll be dead…or wishing you were.

I am currently Detached
I am listening to the voices in my head