raising arizona

breathe in

i've thought a lot about karma in the past few days, and karma has nothing but a fucking twisted sense of humor.

i became so stressed out i lost my voice. it wasn't alcohol or cigarettes or any other body damaging vices; those i kept in check. just at one point, i couldn't speak. maybe it was psychosomatic, and it was my higher self knowing that the foul thoughts that were circling my head should never be spoken like the infinite names of cthulu. or conversely, maybe i knew i had said enough, damning most with half sermons even hypocrites like ted haggard would be proud of.

(for example, at one point over the past week i announced that if someone had come hundreds of miles to embarrass themselves and everyone around them then they should all go to their hotel rooms now satisfied with a big fat mission accomplished, and if they needed any other motivation my foot in their ass was a handy option.)

now, alone for the first time discounting sleep in 2 weeks, i get electronic pleas for forgiveness. thanks for your hospitality....sorry you can't go to that bar for a few weeks... i meant i love you like a brother... i'm sure he'll speak to you in a couple weeks... just tell them i did it... i'll make it up to you....

am i bitter and selfish if i don't forgive? am i wrong to want to punish those that have wronged?

i know it sounds like gay drama, but i'm honestly not prone to that in real life, i just play a disgruntled fag on tv. i shouldn't care about my reputation, my social standing, but i do. and when i'm associated with a herd of drunk guys who don't realize that denver really is a mile high and unless you live here you should really watch your intake, or have my connections look at me sideways because i associate with the type that can't walk around the bar without exaggerating their inebriation, is that reason enough to condemn and chastise because it inconvenienced me?

if you didn't live your life right the first time, don't make me relive it all in one weekend as a learning experience.

nebulize

big wheel - tori

the devil was an idea

breathe in

i've been hibernating. not just from the outside world, but from the internal world i've created online and beyond. is it guilt? not really. is it remorse? not quite. is it shame? always, but not this time.

i just have actually enjoyed being alone, a separatist of sorts. i immerse myself in my work, thankless as it is. i play with logic puzzles and soduko, crosswords and acrostics. plus, kitty ate two of the cords that connect me to the outside world.

i was on another blog, which i wish i could reference but can't because the lords of this site are scared of outside influence, that talked about an experiment with occult ideas gone wrong, scientific mutilations blamed on danish aliens and freemasons, that made me think of my own cultural experiments, and their blackened cheek backfires.

am i that horrible?

it is a question i ask all the time. i examine my deeds and illusions and wonder if that is what the mirror of society perceives me as, some newtime crowley with his head in his hands. i have my own devils dictionary, my own wonder and wimsy. who are you? it comes late at night like this, yellow roads and ruby slippers all bundled up.

i think of the number 3, and how it haunts me. 3 years, the constant of my pain, 3 mouths, the motivation.

breathe out

and i babble like this.

a reflective glance is much better than a full body mirror of a lifetime of grief.


nebulize

boom boom satellites - on the painted desert

3 years

breathe in

wild mood swings. listened to this song and just, genuinely, started crying.



it might be the snow. it might be that time of the month. but it's sad.

i've been thinking about him lately. stupid, i know. something that is so historically and fundamentally wrong shouldn't be lingering, especially nearly 3 years after the last episode. and i still walk down the street, see him riding in cars, staring through shaded windows, sitting in darkened shadows.

i know now that its not him that i want, not that collection of knives and briars that cut so deep and nestled under my skin for the past thirty millenia. i know that i just long for that feeling of wonder and warmth that for just a moment made me bright and ascendant. i know i am just afraid that never again will i be that whole.

not even whiskey is making me feel better.

breathe out

the politics of snow are interesting. the politics of who benefits and who loses, the politics of sleeping smiles and empty stares.

politics is empty.

nebulize

pink - who knew

did you ever wonder why old fashioned's are made with bitters?

breathe in

i always did. i always wondered why anyone would mix perfectly
good bourbon with a substance that engages a gag reflex
in much of the population. regardless, during the years
i spent in the bar industry, i still would see it lauded as
a classic cocktail appreciated by true connoisseurs of
spirits and wino's everywhere. it was also interesting
to notice that anyone who ordered the drink usually wasn't
a day under 40, which leads to my next point. the mutual consensus
of anyone in my peer group who tried the concoction was like
watching rosie o'donnell fuck julian macmahon on
nip/tuck, revulsion.

comparatively most modern drinks, those that seem to be
the most popular among people in my age group, usually have
less of an obvious alcoholic taste and more artificial
or fruity flavorings(i.e. juices, soft drinks, energy
drinks etc.) even the old standard of beer has evolved,
most popular american beers having toned down the flavor
of the hops in favor of a smoother, less bitter flavor. (this
i disagree on. give me a pale ale any day over that bar tap
mass produced american swill.)

so, you may ask, why post something like this in the rants
and raves section, when you could have posted in the general
section or something like that.

and so begins the rant.

i realize that our gay forefathers, those that opened the
door for the newer generations, mine in particular, to
actually feel somewhat safe in coming to terms with their
sexuality, fought a hard struggle. they struggled for
acceptance, for respect, and for equality. some died,
some were sacrificed, some even lost their souls in the
mix and i, as well as many others, are forever grateful.

i just ask that you please stop with the bitter crap.

most of the people that write articles, questions, and
comments on the magazine pages just at a quick glance seem
to be over 40. i have no problem with most of them and have
found some insightful and amusing things. i have a problem
with the fact that a few of these frequent posters have now
lumped the younger generation as represented on this site
as a bunch of narcissistic sex obsessed materialists that
only care about cock size, body hair, and how many times
they went to the gym this week. you also glorify yourself
with holier than thou morality editorials which condemn
people for attempting to ask a simple question in order
to better understand the attitudes shared by this community.
i have seen several posts that push envelopes of morality
and could spark intelligent discussion but then are beat
down by bitter queen in the corner screaming accusations
of grotesque and idiocy. the impression given, as i see
it as being a relative newcomer, is that unless i devise
a question or a post that relates to something within a narrow
range of topics that seems to center around asking sage
advice from the wizened elders of the FRIENDS
OF DOROTHY foundation about whether i should
dump my boyfriend or that it is anathema and subject to all
manner of flames just short of the (my personal favorite)
horribly fashionable pNw3d!!!!.

now i don't expect you to like everything that i write,
and intentionally i do mean some of my opinions that i post
here and on other places around the net and in the world around
to flat out piss people off, but that does not give you license
to scream out your self-given geriatric authority from
the rooftops. every message posted on this system, and
those posting them, deserve the right to post and be heard
regardless of the vulgarity or simplicity of their sentiments
or opinions.

so please refrain from comments like the following:
'you must be one of those guys'
how do you know? you really can't make a judgment based
on 2 sentences of someone who's only persona you know
from a shrunken face pic and a headless torso.
'obviously you don't know
what you are talking about'
maybe thats why they posted in the first place. next time
educate before you insult.
'being that i am 300 years old let
me tell you
what i think'
your age doesn't matter. in all honesty that hot 21
year old you jacked off to in the chat room last night could
be 75 and have 4 small children tied up in his closet and is
looking for an accomplice. when you preface an opinion
like that all you do is make a feeble attempt to add hollow
weight to what ultimately, in my mind, becomes a hollow
statement.

now, before the shovels and torches and garden hos come
out and the mob starts to chant 'sink the psycho',
i don't mean this for everyone, just the few people
that i have seen post time after time with scathing remarks
and gross assumptions that often have been unwarranted
and unwanted. does that mean that i will block their comments?
hell no! opposition makes life interesting. it means that
i will use their bitterness induced ignorance as a weapon
against them. point out that the same man that is complaining
about how shallow someone is is the same person begging
to get a big cock up his ass, minimum 7", on his profile,
followed by the words 'no fats or femmes'.

in a world that is constantly changing and growing, growing
smaller in some cases, we should respect anything that
anyone takes the time to sit and put into text regardless
of how offensive, incorrect, asinine, or vulgar and use
it as an opportunity to grow ourselves or help another do
the same.

the point? swallow the bitters yourself, pretend like
you like it, and join the party. the bar is out of bitters
and a twist of lime really doesn't do anything to the
flavor, other than make it look pretty. find a new vice,
a new flavor, and come and join the party.

this bar doesn't make a drink called old fashioned
anymore

revoloutions of ruin

breathe in

flipping through the middle section of only revoloutions today. for those of you who haven't heard of this wicked creation or haven't heard enough, its a 'novel' that tells a story from two perspectives, written in a disjointed verse, and that every 8 pages you turn the book upside down and read the other side of the story. its a love story basically, cataclysmic and raw with all the fire of two teenagers out to destroy the world, or create one of their own.

regardless, i love the book.

i want to feel that fire again, and i alluded to that in my last post.

sometimes i go through these apathetic phases. i become cruel and distant to the ones i love and enigmatic and untouchable to those that i possibly could. maybe its this time of year, with my years old curses of tim and dave come to kill my emotions just as they did so long ago. the only passions are in the novels i read or in the words that i write, or the melodramitc crazy soap that i can't believe i watch every day but do it anyway because its just too damn fun.

sam says i will never leave you, reflected in hailey's eyes at one point. i want that.

i do think its that time of year, the end of the cycle where all of us tend to step back and take a look at ourselves and our 12 months of missteps and mistakes. its not like i couldn't walk 3 blocks and get laid fantastically, or ask one of about 5 people i know that would be interested to go on a 'date' tomorrow afternoon. i just miss passion. i write about it on my other blog in the form of fractured fables and apocalyptic prose in my fiction, or in the scathing commentary of my opinions i post there too.

another friend says it best. i'm a passionate person with nothing to be passionate about right now.

breathe out

fiction... soon... grrr.....

nebulize

skin - trashed

crawling through windowells

breathe in

so today i fought the good fight, the blood of my enemies on my hands and lips as i strode victoriously home through the winter chill, a smile on my face.

actually it was cold and my face had frozen into a smile resembling that creepy botox cat lady in new york.

sure, i was sent home from work for playing hookey yesterday, a days suspension my punishment for missing a day of work when i haven't even had so much of a black mark on my record. well, at least not for the past 4 months.

now, for those of you who are unindoctrinated in the fine art of the mental health day, let me give you some pointers. i call it

THE ROVE METHOD

1. the war on terror rule : when making up an excuse, make sure it is plausible but hard to authenticate. things like 'my grandmother died' can be researched by a vengeful coworker or nasty employer in only a matter of minutes online and can potentially cost you your job if they are proven to be false. for example, my excuse was a car accident on the way to work. yesterday i got a flat tire, then the spare blew out as well. sure i live within walking distance but it was butt cold. now that is technically a car accident, i just happened to add to the implication that there was another car involved by my omission of the circumstances behind the accident, which also leads to the next point.

2. the bush administration rule: do not go into detail about the circumstances unless asked, and even then be as vague and ambiguous as possible. to fix the dead grandmother problem above usually a simple change of syntax can cover your ass (i.e. dead grandmother becomes a death in the family). in my situation, i said it happened 5 minutes away from work, which is actually how long it takes to drive to work from my house so technically i gave up the location, but at the same time that gives me a good 12 block radius to work with in case questions come up later.

3. the wmd conspiracy rule: have an unrelated third party involved who can corraborrate your story while also absolving you of any wrongdoing. by using a 'patsy' unknown to your employer or co-workers as a witness there is an added level of credibility, yet still unverifiable by your potentional detractors and accusers. through, once again, ambiguous language, i suddenly wasn't the driver during said accident, but my roommate was. therefore any police involvement or documentation no longer is my responsibility and legally i have no right to take that paperwork to work to 'prove' my story. and in my situation i can always say that my roommate handed over the paperwork to their insurance company and didn't make copies.

and finally...

4. the rumsfeld rule: if even after following the preceding methods there still appears to be doubt on your intended audience DENY DENY DENY. Create a cloud of confusion supported by unrelated subjects and subtle jabs at their moral character that turns them from the agressor to the defender. use subtext to poke at their moral character, to capitalize on their fears and to ultimately cast enough doubt to make them even question why they were questioning you in the first place. this tactic can should only be used as a last resort for it requires a lot of follow up and makes your actual transgression appear paltry if your true intentions are uncovered.

hope that helps any potential truants in the audience.

questions? comments?

take it up with my press secretary.

communism in winkie country

breathe in

so i settled it. and its done. officially i am an ass...unofficially i'm still an ass. but the whole wicked scandal really sums it up.

i'm just not "popular".

i wish i could "defy gravity".

breathe out

the strangest thing of all.... you can't pirate showtunes... interesting.....

nebulize

peeping tom - mojo (again i know)

its an ordinary day...

breathe in

something feels hollow. i don't know quite what it is yet (feer the creep), but i just know that something isn't right here.

no this isn't another ill thought out semi-political tirade. its just me. being frumpy. sometimes i just want to be frumpy, to sit at home and be this way.

and i have this nice little place to share it all with you.

breathe out

why do i focus so much on going to the bar? why do i focus on this endless pursuit of spirits and acceptance. mabye its in my rearing. maybe its society. maybe i just want a beer.

nebulize

peeping tom - mojo

filth; a world of hurt

breathe in

been meaning to write something meaningful. i walk home from work with nothing but random thoughts running through my head. i look at the seemingly abandoned house on the corner of 8th and forever, sometimes a single light on in the corner window and wonder if the burden engine burns silently in that corner, calculating the fates of the last 300 worlds. i see the pinball machine shrouded in a rotting bedsheet on the porch of a mansion, the yard destitute compared to the houses that glisten in the sun with wealth and starshine on either side, and wonder what devilish mechanism put the fear in the owners to set the device outside to fight the elements.

so many ideas, so many opinions. so much.

then i see things like this



sickness. pure sickness. i felt dirty for having watched.

i cringed when i saw the kid snicker at the back of the crowd. i felt hopeless as people seemed to back away in the face of three semi-authoritative mall cops. sick sick sick.


breathe out


where are we going? i know that by far we can't run around and start throwing up 'police state' banners on the steps of every capitol, but it still makes me wonder if we are not headed for another dark ages of sort. it makes me feel like we are running right back in to the 60's, a time of seemingly liberal ideals but staunchly conservative, if not fundamentalist, opposition. in a way, we are slowly unravelling the tapestry of freedoms that we have woven over the past 40 years, once again criminalizing the counterculture while advertising it with cardigan sweaters in a gap ad or in the latest fall out boy video.

racism, true homicidal lynching redneck racism, is coming back with a fury. bigotism, with all the trappings of testosterone and fear, is resurfacing. in general, hatred is knocking on our door. the police state may be a ways off, but a state of fear has definitely set in. hatred is born in fear (feer the creep). sure i use the words, i actually long to stand in the middle of the intersection in my house and scream 'stupid nigger' at the next escalade driven by a cel phone talking member of the darker race that tries to run me over while i cross. i want to scream 'fucking queer' at the next little foppish popped collared faux-hawk looking 21 year old that sneers at me when i go up to order my 10th vodka 7. i want to yell 'shitbagger fogey' to the pissbag wearing geriatrics that call me at work and expect me to respect them for their age when in honesty they probably haven't respected anyone for their whole lives. but my bigotry and racism is mine, not motivated by fear. i'm motivated by just a lack of even an ounce of compassion for anyone, or anything.

maybe i am a part of the problem. maybe i should do more to change that which upsets me rather than just add to the problem.

maybe i should be perfect, but that is for other saviors. not me.

three days of smiling silence

breathe in

it's already fucking september. another year has flown by and nothing has changed. i had my spring romance. i had my summer fling. i lost a friend. i gained a few pounds.

last year at this time were the last days of disco, albeit in my mind everything was ok. everything changed the last week of september last year, and i should have used that opportunity to improve myself, to improve others. but i didn't. i went back in to the same routine of deception and degeneration.

at least my pants still fit.

breathe out

as quoted from podiatry.com:

'Prevention is the best defense against gout. Medication (e.g., small doses of NSAIDs, colchicine, allopurinol [Zyloprim®], probenecid) may prevent continued accumulation of uric acid in the joints and further attacks. Avoiding alcohol and rich foods that are high in purine (e.g., scallops, sardines, red meat, sweetbreads, gravy, cream sauces) also may help to prevent the condition.'

no i don't have the gout. but i know someone who does.

everywhere i go i see a cycle of alcohol and alcoholism, of lies and lethargy. i guess half of the disease is motivated by fear. the other half, in my mind, is motivated by sloth. i do believe it's a disease, i don't believe that it's incurable. the cure, in my mind, is support, is creating a better self image, is to shift your priorities to something other than where your next drink is coming from. you don't need aa to do it. you don't need a therapist to do it. you need a realization that you are responsible for your own actions, and you need to admit that you have a problem.

sounds a little preachy, huh?

now if i could only say it, and if others would back me up.

nebulize

tori - hotel

eyes on the balcony

breathe in

i write stories. it's what i do. i spin a yarn about this boy and this cock and who had whose mouth on his whatsit and all the other juicy details. let's tell a true story.

right now i just feel alone.

and thats the truth. choo choo.

nebulize

joan osbourne - ladder

and there is sweet pain

breathe in

it comes in waves. this little bit of autobiographical stuff. it comes and i exaggerate.

it comes.

nebulize

bt- dark heart dawning

the best of friends lie dormant... and then lie some more

breathe in

love is a complicated monster. i say monster not because i'm afraid of love, not because i shun love, but because i don't truly understand love. i come to realise that because of love i have become frightened and sheltered and that i cower in corners waiting the next unexpected turn, waiting for the next scare. i say monster because it is the fear that i understand, its the horrible fear that i accept.

i don't like it when my friends are in love.

i doubt it. i get jealous. i get mad.

as c would say... this is something that could be grand, but i don't have the patience or the motive to go any further. i'm just a little intimidated.

breathe out

it's fun to believe. its fun to pretend. its fun to go out and get blitzed.

nebulize

tori - famous blue raincoat

skin scarred and sweetly singing sin

breathe in

there was this t shirt i always wanted to buy. it had the profile of some dude with liberty spikes and underneath it said 'i used to be punk once'. i really liked it, should have gotten it. but no i had to get the bugfucker shirt, or the other one that said satan instead of pepsi. or even that ghastly afro shirt that i never even put on once.
an old friend told me a while back that i'll always be punk, because punk doesn't mean having leopard spots in your hair or wearing a dog collar, it doesn't mean listening to tdk or tlpd, it means denial of conformist reality, it means a slighty skewered kaleidescopic paradigm shift.
it means i never really had to have liberty spikes.
case and point, some homo wanna be a the off key bar singing beasties with liberty spikes is not punk. he probably played football in high school.

breathe out

i came within 10 feet of a police officer tonight. it made my stomach churn.

nebulize

garbage - the boys wanna fight

*sigh*

straight, never forward

breathe in

its been a while friends. i can be shy if i want to. i miss you all. and short sentances usually hide the truth so its all fun.

i need to bite my tongue every time he talks about rent. you know who. that jobless thing that doesn't realize that i've paid good money to live here. that thing that makes me cringe.

WHO ARE YOU????

its alright really. i just smile and nod and hope that the next life is better than this. hope that maybe one day i fall and no one catches me and sweet oblivion gives me a kiss and a hug and says its gonna be ok...

breathe out

tequila mockingbird has the best les singer in 8 million years. its true... thirty helens agree.

nebulize

my chemical romance - helena

return to reality

breathe in

so, as some of you may know thanks to a certain jackass among other things, i have been away for a while. it wasn't pleasant. it wasn't nice. but i'm alive and that's what counts. there are so many times that i wish that i could have done a little update, but it just wasn't that convenient considering the situation. i'm not going to give it all away right now, i'll leave those of you that don't know in the dark a bit longer. suffice it to say that it's good to be home, although there are a few things that need to be said.

breathe out

i have been home for three days. three days and i still walk around like i am a guest. today i finally said fuck it and set up camp in the living room and i've been fucking around on the computer just for shits. sure s doesn't care, the other one might, and the other one doesn't really matter since he hasn't paid rent in 2 months. that's right folks, i've been paying double rent due to my unique situation for the past 77 days and lazy fuck has been using my net connection, my food and my house to lounge around for a free ride. sure i was a lowlife unemployed sap for 4 months myself, but i made sure rent was paid. so someone is going to have to die. that's all there is to it.

breathe in

i have bunches of new fiction that should be coming soon, probably tomorrow night will be at least the first installment, and i'll also give you my first installment of my new ten part series. i'm not ready i guess to talk about the last 3 months, so those of you not in the know will just have to wait.

nebulize

prodigy - spitfire

i gave the benefit of the doubt its true

breathe in

looking for a job is ever so tiresome. even more tiresome is the fact that you know that you are overqualified and people aren't hiring you because of that simple reason. and you don't have a degree in beer bongs... er... i mean business or psychology. i need to start my own business. i need to be the captain of my own destiny.

i need enough money for a pack of cigarettes.

i know that this has to end in the next week because if it doesn't i will have to slit my throat while my head is in my gas oven after i have taken a bottle of aspirin washed down by a bottle of mad dog laced with comet cleanser. knowing my luck they would all cancel each other out and i would end up with 3 million in medical bills. i have seen all these 'are you gay and do you masturbate' type posters for medical studies but they don't pay, they just give you free drugs and shit.... ah well life.

breathe out

its time to talk about celebrity and what makes a celebrity. i know its my massive obsession with television rearing its ugly head again but its been on my mind. is tawny kitaen still a celebrity? according to e! true hollywood story she is. is carey hart not that much of a celebrity? according to vh1's the surreal life he is. inked is by far my new favorite show, aside from my erotic obsession with tattoos, and i know that carey hart is sorta becoming like how tony hawk was to my youth, a sort of non-celeb legend that really is a celeb. would anybody be saying anything about tom cruise if he wasn't dating katie holmes but rather, some producer chick who at one time was behind the scenes of some show like cheers. probably not. i know celeb obsession is about living vicariously, but how much of it is just manufactured or trumped up reality we'll never know. personally i would like to hear a celeb come out with a step by step guide on how to take a shit without distressing your colon too much.

breathe in

kudos to sem.... talk to ya soon. and there is another ventilate on the way. now that i don't have to stream it and run i have been actually working on something much longer and comprehensive... stay tuned.

nebulize

poe - control

lungs and water and the effects thereafter

breathe in

i haven't felt this way in a long time. i should just say that, because i had a longer sentence that sounded like utter bullshit. you know. drunk sort of stupid shit. i should say that i saw him and wanted so bad just to tell him that i could relate... now that its not so bad. now that i have at least something that i can offer him besides bedside sarcasm and a note saying see you next week. i could say that i'm independently wealthy... that would go over good.

i could say that i love him.

i could sit here and write about it and never do a fucking thing because the coward that i am won't let me admit those things basic to my being.

what did i say before... its only flesh.

i think i'll start reading clive barker again

even rockstars get the blues

breathe in

its been a while i know.. between this cut and that cut and your random blue dragonfly.... but really i'm fine. i haven't been sleeping, but haven't been wanting to post. truth gets me like that.

i've ruined everything.

i ache and it happens. i'm scared to think what could happen if i was truly happy.

nebulize

folk implosion - kingdom of lies

creating darkness from a spoonful of wonder

breathe in

this has been one of the most stressful weeks of my life. and i wasn't even working.

yes i lost my job. it was bound to happen. hell it needed to happen. they didn't have to be such assholes about it. but just to say that i put it out for the whole world to know....

CONTACT ONE CALL CENTER CAN LICK MY NUTS. BRIAN MCDONOUGH CAN TAKE HIS GLASS EYE AND GIVE HIMSELF A RECTAL EXAM WITH IT. RANDI MERRILL CAN GIVE BIRTH TO THE ANTICHRIST.

and that makes me happy. that's the wonderful thing about blogs. i can write anything i damn well want and no one can do shit to me.

i hope they rot in hell.

on a brighter note, i think i already have another job. 4 days isn't that bad i don't think. i did work my tail off tho.

breathe out

jacko goes to jury. i wish i wrote headlines for such lofty media sources like time, newsweek and the godlike entertainment tonight. the verdict in this case will once again disillusion the western world, while fueling the flames of hatred from our eastern counterparts. we can't even punish our own criminals. hell we can't even define what is a criminal act anymore.

things were easier when you went to jail for looking funny and you had to fuck your honey through a hole in a sheet.

nebulize

sarah mclaughlin- fallen