Archive for the ‘LIFE AND STUFF’ Category

01/18/2018 – Random Writing at 4 AM – Another Poem?

Inside my mind; I do find myself – not against the rage but not in peace either; the waves do crash upon the shore again; it is peaceful even in that storm, to hear the breaks, the rage.

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Sometimes I wonder though if this life is even worth that rage.

A NOTE TO MY DEAR READERS: 

I wrote a piece tonight; at 3 AM, at a different site – Random Writings at 3 AM(Click! READ!!!) 

My mind is awake; keeping me awake in body and soul, so I write to amuse you; TO AMUSE MYSELF, I dare say, to pull from me that place words, to place upon the screen to let you read that which is inside my head; inside my brain.

Photo0047Here in the world; the darkness of the late night or early morning; I know not what, it matters to your perception; I begin to write, silly things, my words, thrown together quite madly, nothing in design or planning; random words typed quickly before they are lost to that insanity; no rhyme or reason I should say.

A memory interloped into the mess: not THAT far away in time but enough to make me realize, I am old, middle aged.

I was in high school, memorizing the passages of darling buds of May; henceforth a love done lost, to wishes and dreams unloved; is not that reality better to live, to breathe, to see, to feel that heart break then never to have loved before?

Memories trance themselves into view randomly; as if in a dream, I shall sleep soon, I believe, I shall see the faces of those who dance among the cerebral consciousness of myself, in that dream land, peeking out from here and there; tonight my dear readers is but a mess, of randomness.

My English teacher; throwing pages down upon my desk; a composition in my first madness.

‘Unbelievably dull characters; nothing seems alive, dead! Dead! Dead! F!’ she wrote upon it; in red. ‘You’ll never be more than what you are!’

I never understood, I still don’t; it’s impossible to be more than what you are; unless you break the laws of time and space; split the universe in half, rip reality into ninths and shit upon it all!!

But I digress, sweet readers, I do not know where my mind will take us; into madness, into love, into that sweet embrace of timeless wonders; that first kiss, that first date, that moment of first joy of release, though I shall not say that first fuck!

Words do drift out; could this be the end or the beginning?

I do not know; let us begin; said the joker to the king.

We all wears masks; we hide the reality, it is easier that way; the characters do drift in and out of our lives; and make us happy, sad, indifferent, etc. etc. etc.

This is how it shall be; the beginning, the middle and the end.

The holy trinity!

Good night; till tomorrow, I am forever indebted to you, dear reader, as you share with me; this journey through time and space; Good night!!!

 

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FAMILY FUN AND OTHER STUFF

~ CHAPTER ONE ~

FAMILY FEUDS OR HOW THE WORLD ENDS

Every family has one or two or half a dozen or more, those family feuds that can last centuries – Uncle A cannot stand Aunt B and such.

Seemingly, the holidays are the perfect time for these feuds to begin.

Take for example in my family; in 1958, or sometime in those hazy times, when the clouds form inside the brain fogging out the reason for the feud but giving it still a hint to know there is a feud, Great Aunt 1 took a piece of cake and began eating it.

“This cake is kinda dry.” she whispered to Great Aunt 2 who, unbeknownst to Great Aunt 1, had made such cake.

Great Aunt 2 huffed and puffed and  threw her hands in the air.

“How rude!!” And stormed out of the house to never speak a word to Great Aunt 1 for close to 50 years.

A feud soon started over chocolate cake.

I guess wars have started over less.

My aunt, my pop’s sister, will not speak to my uncle, her brother and hasn’t since basically time began.

I was born in 1971 and they weren’t on speaking terms since before then.

It always puzzled me and I asked both sides what was going on.

My uncle would tell me, “I have no idea! I’ve tried to mend the relationship many times! I love my sis!”

My aunt would reply, “He knows!” and then would hang up the phone angrily.

My pop would smile slyly and reply, “I think it’s over her bike that she thinks he chopped down into a chopper. I did that!”

Years have gone by, Presidencies have changed hands more than I can count, and still, my aunt will not speak to her brother, my uncle.

I got a reason this summer, as I stayed a few nights in a motel room in Butte, Montana.

I had bought a bottle of Black Velvet and was drinking it with diet coke(I have to watch my shape and yes, round is a shape) and soon found myself dialing my aunt.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Jello!”

We both laughed.

Why?

I have no idea.

After some small chit chat about cousins, friends and other stuff, I approached the topic easily, with just a touch of harshness to make it seem like a grill session at the police station.

“Why do you hate your brother?” I half yelled drunkly into the phone.

“I don’t hate him, I hate his wife!” the truth came out, though, my aunty S, had figured that out many years before.

Apparently, on a Christmas Day, back before the dinosaurs or 1958, the family had gathered at my grandparent’s place, a place that does not exist any more, even the town it was in is now gone, swallowed up by The Berkeley Pit.

After a feast, the family moved to the living room, for conversation and homemade beer.

Something happened that day, a fight of words broke down between my Aunty S and my grandfather; hiss growl, you, no you!!!

And soon the great rift between the family would begin; though no one remembers what started the fight, I believe it was over chocolate cake!

~CHAPTER TWO~

Stalker Dating Imaginary Love

June was waiting for something, drinking a half empty bottle of wine, on the bench, sliding south.

Where genius met, nobody knew, especially June.

Categories of questions fell from the sky, striking her on the nose in the form of rain.

She feared the dark but hated the light even more, in the light, they, the normal peoples could see the tears, the bruises, how she hated the light, that which exposed the truth, and the pain.

There was that chance, out there, someone was watching, knowing, seeing the truth, seeing her madness as she danced naked there in her yard at midnight.

A few times the neighbors, nosy pricks, would call the cops.

A few times she’d be placed in “For observation – 3 days” to see if she was a harm to herself.

A few times she had danced to the rhythmic music with a gun to her head.

She wouldn’t have pulled the trigger and even if she had,she didn’t have enough money for the bullet.

One time, she had pawned the gun to buy some bullets but then it came to her, where would she get a gun and she went home, downed a bottle of scotch she had stolen from the liquor store and danced around the yard naked making wild hand gestures to the sky above in hope that the aliens would see her.

She felt like a trapped being on this planet, like her true self was meant for some other place, out there, among the stars, maybe she was a princess.

Or a warrior, killing those who opposed her mighty sword.

She had a boy friend, a few actually, all imaginary but it kept her mom happy.

“How is life?” her mom would ask.

“Great! Stephen is taking me to the movies tonight!”

What was the harm?

If her mom asked, the movie was great, Stephen was now somewhere else, fighting for our freedom.

If she got too nosy, Stephen was killed, land mine, blew him to Mars.

It all made sense, inside her mind, she didn’t need Stephen anyways, she had Mark, an actor, he was on a TV series, she had sent him a letter, he had sent her a picture, yes, Mark was the answer to the question.

Now if only she had a gun….

2016 – the presidential election year that would go down in history as the biggest circus ever, mostly filled with clowns.

Hillary Clinton was suppose to win, according to polls, everyone was on board the train.

Donald Trump won.

I knew he would.

It wasn’t because I liked Mr. Trump and to be fair disclosure I voted for Hillary Clinton.

It was because he told the right people what they wanted to hear.

“Damn Mexicans! Build the wall!” Etc. Etc.

To the world who ask, no, he did not win the popular vote which yes I knows seems strange, trust me, I am confused too.

But I will also admit I do not like Hillary Clinton and in her run against Bernie Sanders to become the nominee, I voted Sanders.

Yes, my dear friends, I became “one of the sexist assholes” who did not join in line with the idea of our first woman president.

Not that I don’t want a female president, I think we as a country are way overdue in that field, I just didn’t and don’t want Hillary Clinton as president.

Why?

She, like all politicians, lie, cheats and steals.

This does not mean I wanted our first game show president to be Donald Trump.

He is our worse president ever and I doubt there could be another as bad as him.

It is possible that he could be our last due to the nuclear doomsday clock striking closer to midnight, that final countdown as portrayed in song.

Would we be in the same muck and mire if it was President Hillary Clinton?

Maybe.

Would she really act differently than Trump if the Russian hacks and bots had swung the votes to her?

We’ll never know.

Do I know without a doubt such meddling happened?

It’s highly likely but in that election year of 2016, it just seemed normal, like part of the process.

Not only the Russians but the DNC screwing the odds against another candidate but again “not proved!” screams the machine but if the tables had been turned, would they have screamed the same?

I do not know.

It just became the norm.

Welcome to the new order…..it doesn’t matter what you offer but how the TV ratings goes or how much the books sell.

Now I sit here, Trump screaming at NFL players using their freedoms of speech.

And Hillary calling me a sexist as she does her book tour interviews.

I feel shame.

A system I have loved since I was child is becoming a joke.

Both sides should be ashamed.

 

In Hell we build, to death we give in dishonor.

Universal Date:10,500,000 DC(During Crisis)
Location: Earth Reflection – After Mission 2.7 – Earth is filled with slutty dolphins

Captain D’Xalare – Mission Commander Reporting –

The Earth was dead, the only thing left, humanity, the parasite, still suckling on its mother’s tits angrily,  still draining its life as she laid dead on the blackness of the universe.

Humanity, an evil race, killing each other in the name of love and peace, over such silly details as the color of their skin or their worship of an imaginary deity, some even worshiped the same God but their words were translated differently.

Worthless reasons to kill each other, the Vogons only kill over the huckleberry found on this otherwise worthless planet.

We, the True Race, found this planet on a routine mission to study its true ruling specie, the pigeon when we discovered this lovely treat, its jam being a elixir of sexual delight.

The inferior of our species, the Moron, tried to mate with the berry directly staining their antenna blue.

Stupid Morons.

We, the Galaxon, ate of the berry and was amazed, delighted, then aroused and mated right on the spot with what the “Earthlings” call a “Dolphin”.

A very wonderful trip I had to say and noted it so in my diary of said mission.

Recommendation to Counsel: I truly recommend that this planet be stripped of the wonderful berries and the dolphins be saved.

The rhinoceros and elephants of this world are a nasty breed and have been known to charge and kill other species who intend to mate with them in a peace keeping mission such as ours.

The humans of this world will enjoy the process for awhile then becomes angered in a short order.

We recommend further that the world be destroyed as it has been declared “Hostile” and therefore ready to be demolished to be replaced by an on ramp to Worm Hole 789!

 

Fear and Loathing in Louisville, Kentucky

By

Jason Giecek

 

I am in the land of Ali, the birth place of Hunter S. Thompson.

I am Dr. Me to Mr. Me to my lover’s preciousness.

She hates me during those phases, here I sit in evil phase, writing about the love of spring in the summer time.

I laugh at that sentence, almost comical, making me want to carve it into my chest.

I stand in fire waiting for life, to die, to dance in star light.

She cringes from human touch, she can’t remember a time that love was real, not a barren place, didn’t have to place her hope onto the back of her baby, life was reality, not just a dream,

A hopeless nightmare….

 

 

 

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I am just a common man, working a common job, almost enough to afford a common pad!

I wouldn’t ever run for a political office as I can’t smile that fake nor are my teeth that white.

I do know there is a homeless situation here in the fine city of Butte, Montana, my home town.

There has been for a while.

With or without a shelter, people, mostly good people, families even, down on their luck, are out there, living on the street.

You just have to wander Uptown Butte any time of the day, and look, really look, and you will see the issue before your eyes.

Even ride the bus, as a commoner, and see the issue.

Do I have the answer or the solution to this problem?

No, I do not.

With or without a homeless shelter, the problem still exists as we close our eyes to the main problem.

“Not in my neighborhood!” I’ve had lots of people say to me.

The problem is, they are already there.

I am one!

Good people, people who work, but who don’t make enough to afford housing,

They smile as they bag your groceries.

They laugh as they give your hamburgers.

They nod as you state your views about how “These bums should get a job!” or stop living off the systems.

A lot of them can’t live off the system, they are making too much at $8.80 an hour.

The waiting list is too long!

They smile but deep down, they are crying.

Yes, the system is broken.

Yes, there are the bums.

The drifters.

The fakes, the men and women who panhandle aggressively, who put their 50 bucks an hour through Coinstar, but honestly that is a very small percentage of the masses out there, living on the streets.

We must all remember we are only one step away from being one of the homeless masses.

One of the bums, who gets hot coffee thrown in his face.

Yes, it happens, I’ve seen it.

I know, I am on of the homeless masses, the dirty ones.

I am lucky.

I have friends who are there, who give me a bed.

And a shower, a place to shave, so I don’t look like one of the homeless.

I do know there are good people out there, providing meals on a limited budget.

I have helped them, shh, don’t tell my manager, I gave them ten cents off some rotten peaches!

We must remember what would Jesus do!

I am not a religious man but I have giving my last dime to a desperate man with three children, to buy milk.

I will be leaving my hometown of Butte, the place I call home, with tears in my eyes, as a proud man.

I love you Butte but…..