Posts Tagged ‘blog’

Killing yourself,
You don’t need a big knife,
But self defeat,
Is the purpose of the game.

Walking,
Into the deep end,
Hold your breathe,
Till the end,
Can’t see the bottom,
Till you hit it.

What is love,
But misery?
What is happening,
With this disease?
Standing on the corner,
Waiting for,
The life,
To be defeated,
To be blown to pieces,
Cutting yourself,
To see if you still,
Bleed.

Standing in the darkness,
The thoughts begin to breed,
To cease,
To sleep,
To give up,
To not feel,
That misery,
Where can we go?
What can we do?

Do you know,
That misery,
In a company?
Reach up and give up.

Heaven is,
Nothing but,
Giving up,
Falling down!

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The world according to a junkie

Chapter one

The Part where I die

There I was, sitting in a club, 2079, people were around me, dancing, talking, blowing their mind, witness to the beginning of the end, razor blades slices up and down their arms.

“Polish fag!” A woman came screaming out from the bathroom, chasing some guy out into the street.

That’s how it was.

Nothing to see.

Move along.

Some shitty band played “disco is dying” up on stage.

I was dying, one second a time.

The screaming lady came back in, sat down next to me.

First time I met her, back when I first got here, to this city, I knew there was something different about her from the other ladies working the joint.

She was a guy, I could tell by her hands.

And the cock sticking out from under her short dress.

“You got any shit?” She asked, smiling.

“Up at my place…”

We both stood, leaving the place, for my dump up the street.

Cheryl was her name, a forty dollar whore, “lady” of the night.

But for some “candy” she was yours for a few hours.

I wasn’t gay, far from it, but all the girls, with cunts, all wanted more and later, as we laid in my stained bed, we would talk, about nothing.

It felt like a relationship.

“You ever think about…” Cheryl said, placing her head on my chest.

I could feel her cock near my leg, just there.

I shrugged.

“Future never comes, like someone else I know!” I laughed.

She pushed off from my chest, flicking my nipples with her hot red painted finger nails, laughing.

“I will come boy, I will come!”

I felt her hands wrap around my cock, beginning to stroke it back to full erection.

When I awoke, Cheryl, like always, was gone, back to her life uptown.

I once passed her in that life, straight man, working at a bank, as a teller.

“Hello sir, how can I help you today?” He smiled.

“Hi Jim!” I said reading his name tag, almost laughing.

It was an awkward moment, one I wouldn’t live down, three days later, my place.

“Don’t you EVER call me by my Slave name!” She growled at me.

“Jim?” I almost laughed, tears in my eyes.

“Yea! My mother, the bitch, named me that, after my grandfather, the same cock fucker who molested me from the time I was 11 years old till I sliced his dick off when I was 14 and ran away, to this place!”

I never called her Jim again.

We’re doing okay,
We’re doing alright,
We’re doing fine.

Lies we tell ourselves,
And other things we do,
We’re okay,
We’re fine,
We’re doing alright!

We were dancing,
In the dark,
The rain began to fall,
As the night began to fall,
We’re doing okay,
We’re doing alright,
We’re doing fine,
When we lie,
Here alone,
In the dark,
Silence in rage

A MIDNIGHT STROLL THROUGH THE MIND
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Walking through the midnight,
A travel through the mind,
Regrets,
Dreams left behind,
A misery of time,
Left in places,
Pieces of my mind,
Left behind with my soul,
Like angel wings,
Broken and laid to rest,
In the ground,
A forgotten soul,
Looking for a place to sleep,
To be giving some peace,
To go places,
That I should not go,
Places that were mistakes,
But they were mistakes,
I made,
My way.

Traveling down,
A Midnight hour,
A broken lane,
A broken fate,
A broken faith,
Lost in a dream,
Lost in sleep,
Reality gone away,
To some other place,
Good bye,
Good night,
To that place,
Where dreams lie low,
To never awake again!

I know I already posted this evening but I decided to skip merrily over to my other blog and started working on a short story about a man falling in love with a prostitute, a memoir, diary/journal entries, some based off of my life; though my soul mate wasn’t a prostitute but her family did hate me for my face.

(I kid. I still love my family-in-law, like I do my own family.)

The short story became a longer form story; almost 10 pages of writing.

I will admit it’s a bit of a trip, skipping off a side road, jumping ahead 15 years, like to that moment of death of the main character’s soul mate, live as it happens, then pushes ahead to his own son’s life and his dealings with events, then sliding back into the past to figure it all out, where it started.

It seems unconventional but it seems to work; like looking into my mind as a real person, then translating it to the character, an alcoholic traveler in this thing called life.

I thought I’d share it here, get a few more views.

It’s not my usual poetry, but, it fits into my writings over here as I base a lot if not all of my poems on my life; the good, the bad and the insane.

I hope you will enjoy —-THE MEMOIRS OF A DRUNK — A FEW CHAPTERS AS THEY ARE REMEMBERED

It’s very rough, as it was written straight to the screen.

I’ll work on it some more; add to it, hopefully finish it and released it onto the world as a finished, polished piece I’d be proud to show my kids; if I had kids!

 

Beautiful people,
Wandering down the streets of the big city,
Awestruck in the beauty of it all.

Realization,
Of time well spent,
In madness,
How long,
Was I sleeping,
If I was ever born?

Everybody,
Still alive?
Dancing on a pin,
Wondering,
Wandering where we are going,
Someday, we will see,
Dance into the river,
With our souls,
To see that different plane, plain.

Into the night,
We go,
Flying through,
A real time,
Dead on the 4th,
Who has,
Seen the fire in the rain?

The devil,
There,
Over,
Plays a song,
To the demons,
The rain,
It stops,
To be consumed,
By the fire!

Beautiful people,
Inside the devil,
Dancing like a fool,
Dancing like the world,
Is on fire!

Time will tell,
What will happen,
To us all,
Dancing on the sidewalk,
Drinking that wine,
Finding that time,
Going insane!

6088687_f520Dancing in the dark;
Eyes wide shut,
Dancing in the dark,
God is in the light,
The sun setting upon a blight.

Where are we?
Doesn’t hurt me,
You want to know,
To hear me,
Dancing in the dark,
If I could,
I would swap our places,
Not to feel loss,
Not to feel that pain,
To matter,
To dance into the setting sun,
To dance within the darkness,
To be beyond that happiness,
With eyes wide shut,
Misery,
To claw out my heart,
How I wish I did not feel that pain,
That lost,
Within here.

To dance,
In the dark,
No problems,
To make a deal,
With god,
No pain,
No memories,
To feel nothing but the rain on my face,
To feel alive…

BAD TIMES ARE THERE TO REMIND US THAT THE GOOD TIMES ARE GOOD – A PIECE OF FICTION

Sitting on the side of the road, looking for America, the beautiful, that place, that was made famous in song, and Grace.

“Who was Grace?”

That girl from high school?

High school seems just like it was yesterday, kissing Grace, my crush, in front of her boy friend, Steve.

Close your eyes, and there it is, the future, waiting for the past to catch up, which it seems never happens.

How some wish, most actually, they could change the past, regain a better future but who decrees if you change that one butterfly that it’ll make for a better future, and in turn, could make it worse?

Bad times are there to remind us that the good times are good.

“Would you like a Pepsi with your taco?” the clerk asked, her high gloss red finger nails tapping on the counter.

I ordered a Dr. Pepper.

Rock and roll lifestyle here, there, everywhere.

The past was driving pass; their eyes closed, hands off the steering wheel, heading over the cliff, like it was meant to be, one more gasoline shooter for the marching band.

My old house was now a 7-11.

Memories torn down and buried, trying hard to forget that place, now where the Slushy machine is, a worn out rug replaced by a pay toilet.

Jesus H. Christ.

“Yes?” an old man says from underneath a card board box, trying to stay warm.

“Not you, sir, least not today!”

The church was burning down and not a drop of water was left to save it.

Amen!

UP TOO DAMN EARLY – AN EARLY MORNING UPDATE

 

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August 30th, 2018 – Somewhere in the living room

It’s almost the last day of August, one more day of what we consider the days of summer, as we move into fall, then, with just a blink, it’ll be winter time.

It seems like only yesterday it was the beginning of 2018 and now, we’re past the midpoint, heading fast into the end.

Where the hell does the time go?

Anyways, I know I usually write a poem and post it here but I went to bed way too early for me; 7 pm, I saw my head hit the pillow before my usual time of like 2 am.

This means I was up by 2 am and with the cable company trying to resolve a major issue, means, no TV between 2 am and 6 am.

What does that mean to you?

I feel like writing something here; but no poem right now, maybe later.

Every so often, I get in the mood to just write, random stuff, my long time readers know this as EEK!! HE’S OFF HIS MEDS!!

So here I sit, at 4:42 in the morning, the laptop on my lap and my fingers gliding over the keys (sometimes hitting the backspace a few times as I misspelled THE tge!) in an attempt to amuse myself so I don’t go running outside screaming THE BRITISH ARE COMING!!!! which scares the neighbors enough for them to call the police.

I should write a better title, something like click bait, like DISCOVER HOW TO MAKE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS JUST BY READING THIS BLOG!!! (I just went back up and readded this to the title!!! )

I remember reading a “How to make $$$ fast by blogging” years ago, when I first started and the blogger, some Doctor of Business and Stuff, stated that the title was the most important factor in growing your blog into a huge success.

I am going to admit, I suck at titles and tags and such.

I try to go with content but I fail at that as well.

Damn my inability to make good content.

I just like to write or ramble on about nothing in particular, it keeps me out of the loonie bin.

To be truthful, I’ve been rambling on for most of my life.

Some have told me, I’m a good writer, but I’ve never seen that, my self esteem won’t allow me to be too nice to myself.

But only recently (well, 2008) did I start sharing my writings with the world, AKA placing them on a blog.

I do like to scare the natives though so it has worked out for me as long as I don’t become too popular and people expect me to appear on national TV.

I’d break the world’s TV!

(Psst. Not really!! CBS, call me!! Lets do lunch!!!)

cat-blog

Course, online, nobody knows that you’re really a french bulldog blogging as a cat and seriously, I don’t think anyone really cares.

They just want to be entertained, to read about the lives of people, even if it’s as boring as

I HAD EGGS FOR BREAKFAST; THEY WERE REALLY GOOD!

On a now defunct blogging site, I tested this theory out by creating THE MOST BORING BLOG IN THE WORLD with such tidbits as the above as well as I WENT POTTY AT 12:45 PM!

I got enough followers to make $37!!

I think I used the money to buy snacks.

Very tasty snacks!

Anyways, I think I’ve rambled enough to make this blog postable!! I hope you enjoyed!! If not, there’s always Yahoo!!