A little chicken is better than no chicken at all

The world falls on us all at times.  When this happens, it rarely does so in a single thunderous, cataclysmic event but rather in a series of seemingly never-ending occurrences.  Those possessing the necessary mental fortitude will view this as a challenge. I beg you, open the heavens and rein down upon me, for this will further develop my character, my will, and my capacity for all things arduous.

We are in the fray and while here it is difficult to be poetic,  philosophic, or even remotely optimistic.  A tree no more looks for reason in the midst of a tornado than a soldier does whilst in the trenches.  This is the time to focus on the task at hand; ensuring survival... rooting down. When the fight is so consuming, so overwhelming it creates a tunneled vision, losing hope becomes easy.  All hope is lost when the ones who we thought would never fall drop like the leaves from a tree on a brisk fall morning.  Malevolent circumstance; these leaves identified us! They tell the world who we are. Ahhhh what a spurious statement to make.  These leaves do not show the world who we are; they covered us from the world.  Those who would cling to us, feigning attachment and similarity know not of our constant struggle.  Our true self lays beneath the bark, several meters below the earth.  This our foundation, our character, our root. 

It would seem that a lesson learned does not fully absorb until well after we have weathered the storm and been given time to adequately reflect.  The nice part about a catastrophic cyclone is that it is typically short-lived and furthermore, reminds us of how strong our roots truly are.  On certain occasions, our roots are not so that they can endure independently.  That is quite alright.  Those closest to us will show their value in this event for their roots are intertwined with our own.  These few will not readily fall away.  They are invested in you as you are in them, for if you fall so will they.  This provides strength, as no noble oak wishes not to cause distress to those who have so willingly come to their aid.

Character is not defined by navigating life unscathed, unscarred and unscared.  Character is being stripped naked, terrified for all the world to see and continuing to stand tall.   Maintaining a silient dignity in the face of all perils and the vicissitude of seasons.
 

It's my God forsaken right for God sakes...

It is my Intellectual property and if you use it I will sue you.  I will take from you a monetary figure appropriate to your offence, say $800 for your malicious use of that old lady brake dancing...

   LISTEN!  my grandmother has been dancing a brake since before you were born and it will be a frosty day in hell before you take my hard earned T-shirt money for such a thing!

 This is typically where I would say "in all seriousness" however, I am currently being quite serious.  Speaking of serious, have you ever twisted fresh lime into sauvignon blanc.... delightful.  I digress.  I am going to make this easy, YOU CAN NOT OWN A THOUGHT!!!  let us think on the consequence of this for a moment.  What if the great thinkers in human existence placed some type of patent on their ideas?? 

To be quite frank, it is late and I don't have enough wine to hold me sedentary long enough to compose anything worth writing. I shall return to this at a time when grapes are more plentiful.

Divine dissonance.....Define Dissidence!

"The look on the cake....It ain't always the taste"

Beauty external. What a valuable condition, what a gem...what a facade. Still it is quite the precious chip to have in ones bag. In the great debate of equality, aesthetic appeal goes a long way to elevate an individuals social status and furthermore their appeal to the opposite sex. Equality. Who is equal to me but none? who has every single attribute in which I possess? Are YOUR toes tattooed?!?! To be honest, I dont' believe that to be the benchmark of equality. If it was, the debate of gender equality would quickly be resolved by who could most effectively extinguish a camp fire using only their bodily fluids and without sustaining personal injury. Too far? not far enough? Equality. Balance. A sum of all distinctions. Even if we were to somehow add up all of the qualities of two separate people and juxtapose them it is doubtful that perfect balance and equality would result. Furthermore who is the sanctioning body on which attributes are preferable and which are not? For the most part these are subjective matters. The characteristics that you value are likely so far removed from what I find appealing that an agreement would likely never be made.

The great thing about writing to an audience of none is that there is no concern about stepping on proverbial toes. My take on it, Equality is bull shit. We were not created equal, we don't live as equals and we will not perish as such. Your money gives you advantages that I will never have. Ahhh but my character will prevail over your trust fund will it not. I would like to think so. I would love to believe that the fact that I am a good, honest, faithful, caring person places me at least in contention with a wealthy, statuesque individual. The truth, some people place a higher value on the latter of the two contenders. That. Is. Life. That is not even a disposition in which I care to overcome. Frankly I have little desire to Court a woman who holds the endowment of a chiseled jaw above that of a man's willingness (and ability) to break the jaw of any who would speak ill of her.

Not only is equality a farce, it is an arbitrary concept at best. Who needs it! Equality on a personal level is something that any rational person would never spend a moment of concern with. Sure, my abs may never be as washboardesk as his but it doesn't matter does it.... I can break his fucking jaw if it pleases you my lady!!

Unrest leads to Uncontrollable hemorrhage

coffee sooths a swollen tongue. 

In the valley of unrest
we seek a silent solace
yet perpetual motion
fates us stumbling, persecuted.
uneasy.... unrest.
to leave this place as Judas
to return to a hero's death. 


To live; to love; to lust; to linger....
to hope: to hold: to have: to hear her.
To read; to ride; to speak; to whisper
to scream to shout to stand and sing here!



an observation:
   All bleeding, no matter the severity, is temporary.

mowgli... a rather gifted child

What is this but a torment?  It is a life and in that I say thank you!  for the greatest of treasures is the painful state of self discovery.   Blinded by sight and no vision to guide us. Beseeched by thoughts of a better day than the one which we have created in our own mind.  What is bliss?  forever daunting and taunting and other things which rhyme with this.... In all seriousness, I see my future.  I see it every day.  It is one that I am not allowed to have, and I justify this as sanity.  I condemn myself to mediocrity.  WHY?   there is no other way.  "The path I walk, I walk in with my own resolve..."  ugghhh  PHALANGES.  to be poignant is to be self absorbed.  I wish not that on my greatest of rivals, for I have no enemies. 
 A new thought, well... perhaps but not likely.  I am hung up.  I am in flux.  I am not at all sober yet not at all drunk.  This is the space between the happy hours.  TICK.  TOCK.  the clock mocks me.  sober and alone I sit in a cave of my own creation.  What a fate.  A beautiful one if you ask most.  A beautiful one if you ask me.  yet it is not perfect.  Perfection is simple.  Perfection is sharing a candid gesture without applause.  Perfection is never wondering if someone supports you.  Perfection is....a southern state.
TICK.  TOCK.  what a difference a day makes.  stone cold, hollow and alone.  what a perfect way to be.  ohh if you only knew.  The life we live is the life we give to those who know us best.  that is garbage.  The life we live is a life of one chance, right now!  live it or Fuck Off!  If you do not take a hold of that chance you do not belong in my state of affairs.  This is not simple. Perfection never is. 
a convoluted state.  is that a word?  I will tell you what isn't a word... blaft.  although it should be.  Perfection.  ahhhh  if it were only that easy....

the royalty must die

And now I would say that it is time for a more poignant reflection.

Outward displays of strength and courage impress me not; rather the fortitude of ones belief and their willingness to see it through, that is the true mark of an individuals character. In principle we are created but In action we are defined.  

To be covetous for such things as honor, why? To be revered by ones peers is to some more valuable than any piece of gold. This is not the wiring's of benevolence. To do good is not to be good. Rather it is the reason that we do good that actuates our disposition and ultimately tells of our true character. To wear a badge on ones chest suggesting an action of honor is as futile as delivering a rose to suggest affection. One can not be convinced of such things by way of trinkets, substance is required.  If you believe that it is enough to do good then you are a hopeless fool.  We must go beyond simple actions in order to be a good and just person.  We must shed the robes of fear and judgement.   We must be steadfast and know that our actions are routed in concrete principle. 
If we are marked to die.... 
While on trial for the crime of progressive thinking Socrates stated that "A man who is any good at all should not take into account the risk of life or death."  This is a crime that he was put to death for.  Yet he knew that he was not at all being harmed; as a lesser man was not capable, even by way of death, of harming a better man than himself.  That is an outstanding leap of faith.  You may kill me but that will not undo the person that I am.  I am a person whos morals and beliefs and thoughts are so far beyond your capacity for ascertainment that not only can you not harm me, it does not bother me when you attempt to do so.  These  actions defined Socrates, however, it was his inexorable belief which created such an action.  They don't make medals for that. 

The company is good here

Here is a little experiment.  I am going to type whatever comes into my mind without censor.  This should be interesting.   ohhh wait, let me get my wine.....

Awake from a four hour nap, groggy.  Divided in what to do next.  After watching a documentary on 3 guys that ran across the Sahara Desert I feel like I should go run; I probably won't.  Perhaps going for a stroll through my new neighborhood on a fancy bike without gears would be fun, buy a book and then only read half of it....  I can't tell you the last time I consumed a book cover to cover.  SIP.  Delicious!  What is it about blackberries and Sauvignon Blanc that just make me feel like a classy bitch!  that is a rhetorical question.  I bet it was the left over turkey that put me to sleep, Turkey sleeper hold!  choked out by a large, butt fuck ugly bird!! 

SIP.  Burning bridges has never been a forte of mine.  Offence I take and it throws me off track.  I have made a carer out of putting out fires on bridges that would be much better off burning straight into the stream below.  Where is the fault in that?  Holding on.  Burn that mother fucker with my own hand and then spend a lifetime rebuilding it with railroad ties and my fist as a bloody hammer.  This is not the action of a sane person.  Sanity is relative.  Relativity is physics and you can not argue with physics, unless you are Einstein then you can do what you please.  Oh shit.  How about sanity is perception.  Perception is reality. Reality is relative to the individual living it.  My reality is a cave that I do handstands in.  A new beginning that comes from a bridge that should not have ever been constructed in such a perceivable indestructible manor.  A masterpiece in my own mind.  My mind is not a simple one.  I have a stubbornness, a kind yet stern outlook on all that I see.  I care, that can be my downfall.  But enough about me.  No this is about my mind. Me. That is the point here self examination, expression and discovery.  WOW.  I believe that was the intent.  Become aware of my own thoughts so as to sharpen them into a dagger that I may use to vanquish all those that stand in opposition to me..... haha okay, maybe not that last part but certainly the sharpening aspect is true. 

Weep no more.  Your heart is a pump.  Nothing but a zap from the SA Node and a mechanical action occur there.  It skips a beat, that lets us know that something is happening.  That must be the adrenal glands though.  Fight or flight.  Why must I always fight.  I am renaming this the "fight or fight" syndrome.  Flight exists only on a plane in my existence.  An existential plane.  That was quite the pun.  SIP.  Reflect.  Flesh, bone, feeling, memory, belief, sorrow.  I didn't expect this to be upbeat.  Nor would I attempt to be some dark and twisted soul.  Poe needed a hug, maybe that is the preventative cure for mental illness.  It goes a long way.  I am not ill mentally, not anymore than the man who talks to himself at the bus stop.  It is colder in here than face value will suggest. I believe that I am even missing the point.  To miss a point that you are attempting to make yourself isdifficult, not actually trying to make a point and missing it suggests a level of complete understanding and sanity.  What a relief. SIP.    

well.... my 10 minutes is up.

coffee and cornbread

With a sink full of dirty dishes and a floor full of clean clothes I waste another hour in a nearly catatonic state.  I have nothing but time yet nothing ever gets done.  Phone chirps and I leap at it like a leopard to a rabbit.  What could be so important?  nothing.  I suppose I have high hopes that one of my clever friends will send me a text that will make me laugh.  I don't need them, I have youtube.  Wait, that isn't the point.  Damn you Andy Samberg.  You are my addiction. This is my methadone.  Every moment that I spend here is one less that I spend checking status updates from friends that haven't had an intelligent thought in their entire adult lives. 

To do lists:

fight a monkey

sweep the floor

drudge the river

email the VA coordinator at school

perfect the handstand

mail some checks

write some programs

drink 3 pots of coffee

nap

Busy black friday.  I do not want to leave my house.  I am afraid.  Some people got maced this morning over a discounted toaster.  I like toast, but not to the extent that I am willing to temporarily loose my vision for it.  WAIT.... toast contains gluten!  that's a double slap in the face.  I wonder if mace is gluten free?  Furthermore, is it considered paleo??   What a way to get your diet off track! 

Coffee and wine both have the same effect on me cerebrally speaking.  A budding rose that requires a diuretic to come to fruition.  I wish I had a pirate wine glass.  A free thought in the free and clear.  It is overflowing....put on pot #2.  I am going to get at least two of those mother fucking things on my list done today!!  Get ready monkey... I've been practicing my high kicks all week!!   We will call this the 5th meditation on the first philosophy.  Rene did it in his pajamas... I'm not wearing any pants.  Who is brilliant?  who is eccentric?  and who is just plain fucking crazy???     You bring up a good point, self.  The ramblings of a madman are often published by those later praised for being ground breaking free thinkers.  Why attempt to confine that?  "You can't stop me, your only hope is to contain me!!"  ~Cole Young. 

An observation:
 Truth is what we convince others to believe.
A reflection can never hope to achieve the purity of the original projection. 
There is no cheating, just winning and losing, and even that is subjective.

A linear thought.... unlikely.

Ahhhh freedom! freedom from audience, freedom from judgement and speelcheck! A new cardboard box that givin the proper dose of imagination can become the greatest of ships. A place for all of the things that come into my mind and never see the light of day. Finally a dark quite corner free from apology, free from mindless banter yet will be nothing but..... Most importantly, free from the fucking "Like" button. An unnecessary diatribe. HERE. WE. GO.


It is Thanksgiving, and I posted on facebook what I was thankful for. The initial purpose of my post was to say thank you to one specific person for what they have endured, however, like most thoughts that manage to escape and find their way into the pixelated universe... blaaaaaa. (this is great, for any other piece that I would attempt to put together I would have searched my lexicon for just the right word. Without the fear of judgement I believe the word "blaaaa" will work beautifully!)

Thankful. Thankful for sacrifice. Thankful for altruism. Thankful for selflessness. Thankful for each and every one of the men and women of our armed services that continue to endure unimaginable hardships, departed from their loved ones, that I may spend this time with mine. THANK YOU.

What is it about the virtual pen and pad that stifles our creative thoughts? I can say honestly and without boast that I had half a dozen brilliant ideas in the silent 15 minute drive home tonight and as soon as my fingers touch the keyboard I am mentally mute. All of the hopes that I had for this first post have thus far dissolved to little more than a title that I can hardly spell and a regurgitation of a thought that I had on FB earlier. The beauty is that this is my answer to FB. I will admit it, I am addicted. If I post something that I find to be even slightly clever I will check my status a dozen times to see if anyone commented. This is a search for gratification. My hope is that no one, no one, ever reads this..... If you do, you are wasting a perfectly good minute. This is not to say that a stroke of genius will never be reviled on this forum just don't ever count on it being on the surface. This is a very unpolished turd and I will make no apologies for that; for this is my turd.

At every moment we are who we are, we can choose to embrace it or we can create a fable so convoluted that we never know our true self. In this moment I am smitten. I am thinking about someone a thousand miles away who I have never even met. I am a hopeless romantic. I am recovering from my minds perfect fable. mind. mine(d)field. Is love the answer or is it the question? haha 3 degrees of separation from a Pat Benatar reference. It's a battlefield not a minefield, but I believe she was on to something. Did she even write that song? Thoughts. Censored. Where was I?? who cares, no one will ever read this! Liberated! This must be how all those Iraqis felt when we parachuted into their capitol...

I wrote a book one time. Can you imagine wading through 100+ pages of THIS?!?!?!