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Thursday, February 19, 2009

The story of the hurricane

You can claim that you don't want something that it isn't all that important to you anymore but when your finally within grasp (again) sometimes you quit gotta thinking about whats the right thing, wrong thing, the good thing. Who the fuck cares when your idea of normalcy is totally blown and you see something that will make you happy for the moment is right there beckoning you with their siren's touch sometimes you just gotta quit playing the game. Who the fuck cares if you know it doesn't really mean what you want it to for either of you? What the fuck is a bunch of talk gonna get you anyways(hooray delusions)? When at the end of the day you really think that anyone can just james frey you the fuck out of existance what is there left to fight? Feeling like a total fraud isn't that far fetched when the last 1230 and million hours of your life feels like it was set by some one elses tivo and it just clicked back, forward, skip commercials. I still care, probably too much but I still do for sure. blah blah I'm a pawn hes a pawn in your game I get it I can dig that, but when I feel like your a fucking joker in my deck for 21 its not so cool anymore. So kudos to you bringer of pain, you fooled me. I'm a big emo pussy that is finally starting to figure out what makes me be. Thank you for coming in and shitting all over that. I'm really starting to think the three dirtiest words a man can utter isn't "I love you" Oh no fuck that the three that will get you in far bigger trouble is "I still care". And p.s. G.I. Joe was a fraud its not "now you know and knowing is half the battle" oh no, it's more like "Congratufuckinglations you know better and you still get trapped by everything you swore off, retard". God bless my red neck parents. Seriously. After typing that I got the lyrics to a wonderful country song stuck in my head, "Everything I love is killing me, cigarettes, jack daniels, and caffiene." I know your no fucking good for me and we both know better so what the fuck is this? If you came in this door I would beat the living the shit out you, then cuddle, then fuck. Who the fuck thinks like this?

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

through the painters brush

I know my postings have been weird and haphazard lately so why stop what works? Anyone that's been around lately has heard me rambling on about people assuming that everyone has the same knowledge base and that because of that you inherently assume that everyone assumes that their opinions are right and that because of this inherent logic that the world is in sync with your opinion. Well heres your news for the day QUIT BEING SO FUCKING SELF ABSORBED. Da Vinci and Michelangelo were both fond of saying ogni pittore dipinge se, that "every painter portrays himself." Think about it, think some more then quit doing it. To see what I'm getting at without the angry ramblings look here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/False_consensus_effect.

coming out of my cage and I'm doing just fine

Sometimes it just clicks when its all said and done everything just fell into place just the way that it should've and all it took was turning your back to it. Isn't it funny how sometimes the best solution is to just turn your back and be like fuck this let whatever come may? I've noticed something that has profoundly affected my life lately, beside the obvious I'm always gonna be crazy shit, did you ever notice that people have such a fucked up view of emotional pain? You can hurt some now or you can put it off knowing that later on you are going to get hurt worse because you didn't let it go when you should have? Once I finally started to really grasp that I got a way better understanding of who I am, What I want, and where I want to go. Beyond that I've been thinking lately what an odd collection of music I've been listening to while I wait for my knee to unfuck it self and how there seems to be a very odd eclectic sound track going on in the back of my over fired brain. Seriously just try and grasp the mind that is listening to him join me in death , going to merril bainbridge mouth, to becks sexx laws, to the frays look after you, to TI's live your life, to johnny cashes version of hurt, guns and roses patience, to mendecino county line by willie nelson and to finish it off bother by stonesour. Just listen to them in that order maybe that will give you some insight into an overactive bipolar brain, just maybe.

Monday, February 16, 2009

so yeah

Sometimes when you look around every thing goes to shit all you can do is shrug your shoulders, light a cig, and play dumb. It is better to embrace your crazy then to use it like a weapon, like oh yeah im fucked up thats why I hurt you... Anyways yeah back to this point any one that really knows me will understand why my jaw dropped when I was reading this. Sounds like anyone you know hhmmmmmm? God damn I love finding worthwhile blogs, If you want to find out more about us crazies look at hers its http://www.thebunnyblog.com/

To-kill-ya more - February 13, 2009

I have this therapist. She's really something. I'm so depressed I can't get out of bed and sleep through an appointment, and she calls me to see where I am. I don't call her back, she'll come to my house. I do something stupid, she says, "Erin, that's stupid," not "Erin you're stupid." I'm not doing what she needs me to do to make the therapy work, and she says, "Erin, I need you to help me with this," not "Erin I need you to stop being [this, that, and the other cleverly deprecating expletive]" She's very fair, and very good at what she does. She's the shit, frankly.

She keeps saying this thing to me, "Erin, how are you still alive?" And I go, "What do you mean?"

Over the few months we've been working together, I've been thinking about that. What does she mean by that? My life's not been that crazy. Has it?

Some times I think we're born into something, and it can be dysfunctional as hell, and without logic or reason, and because it is all we know, we consider it the epicenter of normalcy. We do what we have to do, initially, to survive inside of it, and that becomes a pattern of behavior that's, to put it frankly, fuckin' insane. Then we're operating out of insanity, and so that's just what we do. It's all we know. Insanity.

Here's what I do: move. Fast, impulsive, get-the-fuck-out, barreling. I barrel through life. I used to hear that from my mother a lot, "Erin, quit barreling through the living room." I have this gargantuan pelvis and a dearth of grace, and I barrel, this way and that, careening through rooms, across sidewalks, smacking my hipbones off tables, fences, poles, etc. with great abandon. If the flesh between my skin and hips hadn't been robbed off all feeling during a doozy of a fall sometime in '92, it would ache nonstop. I just blasted my right hip into a chair at the coffee shop. Everybody looked up, and there I was, bent over a chair with my hand under a half-capsized paper cup, drops of milky coffee running down my forearm. Hi everyone. I'm Erin. I barrel.

And it's not just movement. It's driving. It's running. It's drinking. It's the physical moving about the country; I just moved into my fifteenth apartment.

So what's wrong with that (?)
, I think. Is it something more than free-spiritedness? Surely its not.

But yeah, it is. It's wrong. It's wild, uncontrolled living. It's slow suicide. When I think of the things I've survived--alcohol poisonings, drunken falls, sober falls, starvation, crashes on bikes, crashes in cars, drug abuse, violent relationships with sociopaths and multiple suicide attempts--I wonder how it is that I've gotten this far in life--not physically, like my therapist does--but spiritually? How am I possibly intact? What kind of person seduces death like this and honest-to-God, truly, deeply BELIEVES they're just "free spirited?" How little attention have I been paying to reality?

These thoughts didn't come to me out of therapy. You would think they would, but they didn't.

It snowed in the desert last week, irrationally (I'm telling you, this place is kooky). The pines and yuccas and cacti iced over, and the pink vagina became even pinker with its coating of snow; a pastel pink, you could say. The pink of baby shower wrapping paper.

I came home to a Tarantula at my door. He was sitting on the "L" portion of my "Welcome" mat, and there was a dusting of snow on his back. He seemed to be trying to warm himself by hanging out on the other side of the sliding glass door that leads into my current, fifteenth kitchen. "Hi there, buddy," I said, like I say to any animal I see because I love animals.

He looked cold, and that made me sad. I didn't want him to be cold, and so, without first thinking of the consequences, I put my palm out and scuttled him onto it with my other hand. A giant, poisonous spider. I held him there in my palms, warming him up and cooing at him as if he were a kitten, until I kind of came-to and the reality of the situation--there is a giant, poisonous spider in your palms--became rather difficult to ignore.

I put him down again. He was fine. Didn't throw him or anything, but who does this? Who sees a giant, poisonous spider on their doorstep and says, "Oh, he must be cold; I'll pick him up?"

That's not right, and it never has been.


Saturday, February 14, 2009

The high water mark

I love hunter S Thompson. I do. I consider him one of the more influential writers that I've ever read. But you know whats scary? Much like the things bill hicks said in the early nineties about how everything was going to shit, Hunter said the same in the late sixties. We see the proof everyday that we are watching the ouroboros of life just keep happening. Why is it so hard to think that everything is connected, in the grand scheme of things we watch it wash, rinse, repeat every decade or two and we are astonished that shit don't change. Really? What is the fucking definition of insanity? Oh wait I remember its doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Whatever, the people that get what I'm trying to say don't need to hear this and the ones that don't get it are too dumb and hopeless to figure it out. Just read the hunter quote and maybe it'll explain better then I can about what I'm trying to get across here. " You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . . And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . . So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."

Friday, February 13, 2009

So I lean a little to the left

Is everyone that works for the government retarded and pompous? Seriously, is it a fucking pre rec to get in? Keep printing that money keep throwing on top an all ready weak house of cards known as our economy. What the fuck when you throw fake money at a broke system what is that going to fix? When I was a kid I can remember multiple times dogs getting shot by my dad when they outlived their purpose or had bad injuries. You may find that cruel and fucked up, I call it life. Throwing money at an UN FIXABLE problem infuckingfuriates me. How many billions are we up to trying to revive dead shit? What did the banking cartels get, the auto industry, now this infrastructure shit? If you can't fix something the solution is to let it fucking die or take it out back and shoot it and tell the kids it must've ran away. This is akin to a giant fucking asteroid flying at earth and saying well lets shoot it with some BB guns that will surely fix it. I don't talk about my political beliefs on here for good reason. The state of shit is so fucked and yes I have taken business classes, econ classes, a business law class so I'm not some crazy redneck with no understanding of this(OK well the redneck part is true, but I'm an intelligent prideful one). OK look at it this way trying to fix this shit with money is akin to deciding your house is too hot and leaving the freezer door open instead of turning on the ac. I've seen more intelligent things come out an autistic drunk kids mouth's then anything I've heard about this package.

Roses are red Violets are blue Your upper lip is both You know I don't like coconut chocolates.


So the worst of the hallmark holidays are upon us and holy shocker of shock I'm single for it. Seriously anyone that buys into literally trying to buy a woman's love is at best mildly retarded you know what i got for Vday one year? A bag of beef jerky a couple of boxes of shotgun shells and a carton of cigs (best Vday ever there's a reason that one got suckered into being my soon to be ex wife). One of these years I won't be single for this great holiday, you know what my significant other is going to get? A fucking black eye if she expects more then making me breakfast for her day to be complete. Tomorrow rest assured that's not a zombie shambling into view in the distance, no my friend it is some stupid bitch upset that her secret crush didn't shell out money for chocolate roses and whatever other shit guys are dumb enough to buy, seriously I want to spend all day tomorrow pretending I'm not an asshole cleaning up on the the inevitable I'm single boo hoo poon just sitting there waiting to be taken.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

What the fucking shit?

I can finally start to understand myself as it turns out I'm not very complicated. If you give me pussy beer or food pretty much in that order I'm the happiest camper EVER. I am an at a crossroads right now and when you can't put something in its neat little package where it belongs its infuriates me. Who really complicates things here? Is it me, you, or do we just have a synergy that fucks it all up? Fuck straight, gay, bi, horse fuckers I wanna be a eunuch. I'm just gonna tuck my shit back buffalo bill style and dance around in a pink gown talking about it gets the lotion on the skin or it gets the hose again.

Monday, February 9, 2009

I prefer everything cut and dry thank you

My son is always trying to put everything into a container, everything has it's place in his eyes. Regardless if something is too large to actually fit into the container it doesn't matter it belongs in there. I think that's actually quite a fitting analogy for my life it doesn't matter if it fits if you force it long enough and with enough force eventually it will give in to your will and hold at least temporarily. I had an epiphany about why my relationships go to shit besides picking crazy whores to begin with even the sane one's are subjected to too much forcing and not enough coaxing. Everything I've learned about myself lately has come from the eyes of an almost two year kid that is essentially me twenty something long years ago.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

I'm finally ok with it all thanks for not asking

Getting ready to leave back to the frozen tundra I once called home. If everything goes my way I will have a bus ticket in hand monday, I miss my son like crazy, I act more lost then I actually am, I hate you, I love you. Does any of it really matter? I'm a winner, I'm a quitter, who the fuck cares, at least I tried to play the game(pussy). I'm going to see the place that time and caring forgot and all the emotions I should have about going back to a place that I don't care for and doesn't matter and I'm just numb to it all. I aint gonna get wrapped up in any more bullshit, I got a clean break nearer then farther away, I got everything wrapped up but one maigcal phone call. Does any of this matter? Probably not. I can finally see the dawn on the horizon, the dark clouds no longer obscuring my vision. I run from my self, I hide from myself, I find myself and still don't give a shit. Everything is a alot easier when your selfish as fuck. I used to have dreams, hope, ambitions, now.... I just want to finish cleaning up my life. I'm on a precipe between being there and falling back to the bottom where I was. Who the fuck knew it'd be such a slippery narrow slope? When I get to where I'm going will I be content then? Probably not but when you give up trying to get better is it any of it worth it?