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The Raven


[02/01/2009 09:21 pst]

The site is still in flux. I am attempting to organize and unify all of the sections which remain after last week's quick-and-dirty reformat, but alas the task is difficult this morning for so many fucking reasons...


"The feelings are overtaking my frail frame. Sitting here trembling and tearful was not in my Sunday plans, but the fact remains that nothing is beyond my unfeeling and blind stupidity and the tears are the simplest and most natural side-effect of my damaging, hideous demeanor. She is quite literally the love of my life. The. Love. That is a depressing fact. As much as I feel for her I also know that the healthier choice is to look outward beyond these familiar walls and into others' lives for the answers to my needs and wants. Staying here and continuing in the direction I know so well and embrace is going to end badly. Very badly and very tragic. That time approaches my heart with lightning speed and dramatic force. My own end is nigh.


Part of my fear stems from knowing that I am not capable of changing. Most times I am also unwilling to change because I know that the misery is what I deserve - in fucking spades. That fact along with my inability to make decisions will likely be my undoing. I continue to need and want and dream but the motivation is failing just as my own typing hands fail to emote my feelings during these difficult moments.

The late days are my enemy. Attempts to forget, delude, filter, and color the efforts and pitfalls of the past provide only mortar to cement my current condition. The mortar is a mix of suffering and pain which invades my psyche like a cloaked figure bent on my solitary and final destruction. It is watered and cured by tears of regret aplenty.

Perhaps I should help that cloaked figure along on its path to my end.


[02/12/2009 07:20 pst]

The work of dumping my consciousness into MySpace is done. Over the last couple of years I have found that outlet to be refreshing and easy to work within. My thoughts, mood, current circumstances, and perceived place in the world have always been difficult for me to vocalize, but the MySpace blog interface helped tremendously. The last two months have seen remarkable page views and visitor numbers as compared to my previous efforts since 2007. That increase provided me with some neutral feedback (all of it generally positive with regard to my ability and style) to which I was able to attach some form of importance. That soon became very important to me. The very idea that my words were being seen and often commented upon took my attitude toward the process in a new direction. I could say something and actually realize someone was listening. That is very intriguing, to say the least. Unfortunately, all is not so flowery.

"Thursday. Indeed. My cocoon has returned from the body shop yet I cannot hide within its warmth and darkness. This morning I found my headlights pointing to the roof of the house. There is no time nor motivation to readjust them at 5am. Oh, I do know how, but I refuse to drag out tools which could result in disturbing my neighbors at such an early hour. I know I would not appreciate that. So, I drove the whale yet again, and after a morning in which I found comfort in the fact that I could once again sink into my tinted and welcoming vehicle, another downer takes me by the hand and leads me into discomfort instead. Oh well. These past two weeks have forced me to realize just how critical that morning ride within the darkness has become for me. That is one aspect of my day to which I look forward. Since I cannot have alcohol whenever I want, any boost to my daily routine is very important. These days my comfort is waning and that is a dangerous thing. Forced, I will run to whatever comfort, isolation, and security I deem necessary. That situation, while enticing, will not end well for anyone.

[02-14-09 10:51 pst]

The upcoming trip is making my head spin. I am worried about the aftereffects of such a destination. Past excursions were always taken on the heels of a happy spell and the resulting drop damned well could have pushed me over the edge. This weekend, however, I am actually in mind of that. The notes I am taking for the therapist keep many issues at the forefront of each day and perhaps that can help maintain my position as relatively in-line during times spent alone and within that decadent embrace. We may find that answer in a short time.

Black and white photos have no equal. The shadow below Kate's cheekbone just makes the entire composition work. Jesus god, what a face.

kate moss

So damned lovely. Don't you agree?

I am hoping that my draw toward Maynard does not become anything more than the musical and mindset interest. These last few days have seen remarkable changes in the way I view his photo. Such a moment captured for all time has no equal on the stage. His presence and semantic power are simply awe-inspiring.

[03/20/2009 07:12 pst]

And another thing...

flaming finger

Go fuck yourself, society. I will not be such a part any longer.

In recent matters, the quest of losing many of my associations in this life has begun. I do not wish to be so attached and neatly filed away. This is difficult work, but I have no doubts that throughout this calendar year I will be able to disconnect myself from many others. I am at this moment realizing that a great number of the reasons for my dissatisfaction with myself are in fact not my fault. Now, I do know that coming from me this likely sounds as if I am sauced once again (as I have been for many of these entries), but the truth is I am sitting with coffee at the outset of the dreaded spring happiness of others. It is morning and early enough so that the sun has not yet peeked above the tract. I am clear and crisp this morning - all sharp words and grammatical endeavors apparent. No fucking worries.

Also, in this sphere of helpful thinking I am fairly determined to create a difference just today alone. That would certainly cement the idea of my seriousness and tenacity to my readers (one or two, perhaps?).

Plus, listening to Terri Nunn's beautifully prim voice is creating dreamy landscapes within my confident mind. She is beautiful even when not seen.

To 2011

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