Nice guys finish last. Thats the adage, the folklore of the day. See what happens is girls say they want a nice guy, but all they date are assholes. Why, you ask? Beacuse assholes have confidence and the balls to ask girls out. Nice guys stand at a distance, passively trying to get girls to notice them. The girls seem easily taken by the bravado of assholes and for the most part they are. There is a grim satisfaction nice guys take from the current divorce rate too. As a nice guy myself I have tried to teach myself to act like an asshole but it’s a false skin and is easily penetrated. Lies make poor armor. It’s strange to me that girls are so confused by a man who doesn’t try to fuck them on a first date. It’s like the modern generation is programmed to be whores and pimps. I was trained different, by my mother mostly but also by the women I respected in my life. I come from a family of feisty women who when pushed are absolutely savage. So as a youth I learned a healthy respect for women. It’s odd now to be in a culture where women do not expect much less demand that level of respect. Hence the nice guy who knows how to treat a woman is left out in the cold. After all girls have been programmed to think that if a guy doesn’t try to score on the first night he must not be into them. It’s a sad state of affairs (literally). So here I sit twice tonight girls I know have asked for a hero or to be saved. Not knowing that I would love nothing more than to save them but also knowing they have no idea what exactly they are asking for. Most women have no idea how to be feminine and most men have absolutely no control of their libido. We have reached the point prophesied in Trainspotting. There are no men or women anymore there are just wankers. Lust crazed individuals who have absolutely no understanding of love or intimacy. Hence those of us who are tragically “old school” are rejected as being pussies or just plain weird. I am a hapless romantic, and I refuse to compromise this in misguided attempts at getting laid. Sex means nothing without love and is not worth the trouble. Love is really the only thing I’m after and it has little to do with sex. So here I am finishing last but when I do finish it will be worth so much more.
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Finishing last.
Romance of the road
The romance of the road, lonliness, longing drinking. Scotch from a plastic cup in a hotel near an airport. Everything is temporary here, just enough to get by, everything is disposable, even friends. The open road the love hate relationship with a spiteful mistress. One moment she’s alluring with the promise of new sensation, the next emptiness sets in. Nothing lasts, everything is a cheap thrill. But it’s enough to live for, enough to make a person get up each morning and look toward the sunset with hope, enough to get one through the day, and another day always looking for the next thrill. The end of the road is not even a thought. It’s not the destination thats the goal it’s the journey, the experience. Life lived with zeal and vigor amassing wealth in knowledge gained not through books, but by doing, by living. The goal of every true traveller is to travel. Not to arrive.
The Rain Came Through The Window
The rain came through the window, spattered on papers left carelessly stacked on the dusty desk. half formed words and forgotton concepts run like tears down the page. Writing turns to painting transformed by primeary elements. Nothing is lost this is what it was created for, the incomplete attempts completed by the forces of nature, by act of God. Destroyed but perfected in the same moment like those heroes born out of trajedy. Intent and pourpose washed away, the simple act of being.
Love is a hand grenade
When you first find love it is precious, you lie awake nights delighted, you take extra special care of it.
but after a while the newness wears off, you become used to it, you still value it and cherish it but the time spent on it becomes much less. As the years go by you begin to take love for granted it becomes normal and you stop worrying about it. You pay little attention to it and just assume that it’ll be there when you need it. Soon while rummaging around looking for something else you will inadvertently pull the pin. Your love will explode in your face and be no more, leaving you mortally wounded lying amongst the tattered ruins of your life. Love is a hand grenade and should be treated with care and approached with caution. Matters of the heart are always risky, and a broken heart, even when mended, carries the scars forever.
Unhumans
Grey dawn breaks soggy and dripping through pine trees into suburban lawns already soaked by automatic sprinklers. hardcore speedwalkers trot by frantically rushing to nowhere at all. The blurp blurp of the coffee machine, the unimpassioned thought of the days work…
… Were all dead here in the burbs. the plain white houses like whitewashed crypts in a New Orleans cemetery. Thousands of bodies languishing in front of the bilious bullshit of must see TV, suckling at the teat of corporate propaganda. I want the new, fill in the blank, there are thousands of items out there that you won’t be cool till you get. And a thousand more insidious thoughts poisoning your mind and leaching the part of you that is you away from you. Placated and pacified are we not human? NO! NO! A thousand times no, we ceased being Human when we relegated the task of being human to the actor. We are consumer, income generators, like living cash machines motivated to work make money and buy things to perpetuate the system. Humans plant and harvest, humans hunt and eat what they kill. Humans live in the world and find harmony with it. Consumers are detached, self imposed exiles from all that makes them human. In a disaster we see humanity, but rarely in a grocery store.
Every morning I wake up and check my facebook depending on how early I’m on I have between 2 and 6 facebook status links to stories from the underground media about polotics, the economy, and everything else you can think of that is a massive problem these days. You know the same fear and paranoia the news media is feeding us every goddamned day! Yes I get it the system is fucked! Half the world is at war with the other half! And were all getting steadily poorer! I realize these things, but I resent being reminded of them every fuckin morning because people don’t have enough interesting things going on in their own lives to post real “i’m going to work now” stati! So no I’m not voting tea party, in fact I’m not voting at all! There’s no point in participating in a broken system you may as well just shout your vote out the window for all the good it does! All this constant fear i’m being spoonfed every goddamn day has turned my stomach I can’t take any more so I’m just refusing delivery! I’m really and truely stopping careing about anyfuckin thing you can spew at me! Even the shit that I probably should care about like the japan disaster has been so overblown and rammed down my throat that i don’t fucking care anymore! I may be becoming a bad person because of this but untill were ready to stop talking and start actually doing things I’m done careing! So go ahead quote some statistics, post the news, If I dont have somthing snarky and jaded to say I won’t say anything at all! And I really don’t care!
(note: this is a rant, I refuse to edit it, spellcheck it, or alter it’s content in any way! it’ll stay exactly as it flew out of my fingers)
Commitment and vice
As i sit here and put myself through torment trying once again to shake the grip of alcohol addiction from my life a thought is running through my head. “Commit! Commit dammit! Weather you drink or quit doesn’t matter what matters is that you commit! If your gonna drink fuckin drink, if your gonna quit fuckin quit, but this constant struggling and wavering between states of being is weak and cowardly!” I did it before, I can do it again, but after a year and a half sober I made a choice to drink again. Since then I’ve tried to quit again several times the longest being a month. This now seems really really dumb. I’m trying for forever this time I gotta commit and pound it into my head that I will NEVER drink again! Well I’m gonna go flail around and have insomnia. This is gonna get worse before it gets better but as a friend said “if your going through something, go through it, don’t stop to see how you feel about it.”
Roll Call
The end of the night, The tail end drags slowly against the rising sun reluctant to relinquish the world for another day. Leonard Cohen plays on the Laptop. And the last of the Rum lingers on my palate. I intended to stay sober this week, to stay clean, to clean up. But it’s hard to stay clean in the gutter and even harder to get clean surrounded by filth. The surroundings clash in and completely spoil a good dream. But that’s just me being figurative, In all honesty I love this shit, The ability to accept circumstance as it comes and to adapt to the ever-changing landscape of life among the ragtag band of gypsies I currently find much pleasure is being associated with. Derek my best friend and cheap date is a Canadian Raver from the frozen depths of Canada. Kirk is a finnish american with a car fetish and an african cuban american wife who runs his life-like a commandant at a fascist boys club! Alex is a revolutionary pothead who can lecture for hours about the coming apocalypse and the right to own guns. Jeff is a semi redneck Lothario,cum,male chauvinist who has hammer whored in almost every state in the union. Walter/ted who is a really (and I mean Really) eccentric and sort of quiet type who is ridiculously meticulous in his work. (I believe him to be either a Mormon or a serial killer) (either way I give him a wide berth). And lastly there’s Greg. The professional Officejocky who had never done a days worth of physical labor in his life untill he got shanghaied into this crew by what was no doubt a very unscrupulous recruiter. And for now this is them the crew on this ship of the damned I sail every week. The strange and desperate bedfellows I call crew.
The imaginary prison
Laws, The invisible walls created by our own imagination, self-imposed chains designed to make us feel safe and comfortable. These things aren’t real? Real laws are constant, the need to eat, to breathe, to have shelter, to have water. These are the laws that matter because if you break one you will die. If you break a speed limit nothing happens, maybe a cop charges you some money or you wreck your car. These are consequences and the cop is actually only a consequence because someone needed to enforce the imagined speed law. If we were allowed to suffer the consequences of our actions instead of being told what were not allowed to do we might as a society be wiser for it. If murder was punishable by the family of the victim would there be less murder? If people were allowed to settle disputes and differences themselves would we be more moral? Are we really so unevolved that we are unable to govern ourselves? Laws are just arbitrary rules that when enforced generate quite a bit of revenue for the business that enforces them. We have all fallen victim to this business. Once a year we pay to get a new sticker on a plate that allows the government to keep track of our car for us. This Plate also costs money, and is used primarily to identify those who break the made up law so they can be rightfully charged. The law is made up and it changes as you cross the imaginary lines between states and countries. What have we done to ourselves when we have traded freedom for law? Rape is bad, I think we’d all agree but do we really need a law to tell us it’s bad? Do we really need to lock up rapists and feed and clothe them for years? wouldnt it just be easier to eliminate them as they appear? Same with murderers, thieves, scam artists, insurance salesmen, and all others who’s very existence is protected by law. Not natural law but made up laws that have gotten so convoluted that no one is free anymore. I would like to live in a house boat. I lack the funds to buy a houseboat. But I do possess the skill to build one. There are however several hundred laws in place that make my building, and launching, not to mention living in, a houseboat a very difficult and expensive prospect. Anyone ever thought of starting a business? There are thousands of imaginary laws that are designed to keep you from succeeding most of these are passed in the name of customer safety. But really if you poison or hurt your customers they won’t be back and the problem will resolve it’s self. I believe now that most of our laws are designed to keep the newly emerging caste system in America solid. The poor cannot get rich because of the invisible walls keeping them where they belong. The rich are protected by law and are wealthy enough to skirt the law when they break it. After all they are the creators and the caretakers of law. It is by the values of the wealthy and powerful that we are forced to live. The rules they impose are the rules that bind us. I would like to incite some sort of social upheaval or change with this knowledge but I fear that the public is now too passive. They are proles, happy to be drunk and entertained. If they can forget their lot in life and live vicariously through the entertainment industry and the internet then nothing can reach them. They don’t have to think. And so they don’t. We have created the system of our own destruction and now as we reach this plateau as a society we find it virtually impossible to climb further, to progress. I use virtually here as in Virtual, like virtual reality. Laws are virtual reality in that they are not concrete or constant. We are in a virtual prison and I for one am thinking of breaking out.
against the night.
The dark rushes in like high tide on moonless shores. Like an invading army swallowing the day. I flick off the lamp and am immedately swallowed up by the night. The darkness I have surrounded myself with is projected on the walls of my mind. the crackling crumbling veneer of my sense of self. For A while I bear it, claiming valiently that there is no fear, wrestling the force of imagionation, and the dread that comes with being left alone. Alone I face the night and alone I fall or conquor. There is no glory for no one knows but me. The shadows come and laugh, but I laugh back, horrific mirthless laughter, the laughter of the insain, of the damned. Fuck I think I’m losing myself! I think I’m drowned in all this black. I used to have a spark, I used to be a light, but now the coal is dim, now the smoke rises. If you ever cared you’d come get me. If you ever cared you’d save me. I’m weary of the abyss, I cant stand the doom. I need light again, honest pure unflattering light. The kind of light that showes through to the core I wanna be clean again, to be pure. I feel corrupted, diseased, a well man too long among lepors. A jew in the camp of the philistine. I’m not like them and the lie is unbearable to maintain. Fuck the Night! Fuck the dark! I rule you both! And I will stand against you as the light inside me grows!
