R3dRum!!!!!

So I had a loverly start to my morning @ a dark and gloomy 2:21am. The door bell kept ringing? I ignored it at first thinking that it was just a figment of my imagination or some kind of strange carry over from dreaming. After hearing it again with my eyes open this time, staring at the ceiling, I lay in bed and took a deep breath hoping someone else would deal with the matter. Alas when I realized that no one else was venturing out of their caves to investigate the matter, I was up and gingerly making my way to the door. Cursing the fact that there is no peep whole I would have to actually come face to face with the rude heathen that found it necessary to wake me at such a heinous hour.

I opened the door and there is no one there, just the loud distinct rumble of a diesel truck coming from the street. Conclution... My neighbor has a Mac Tools truck so i figured he had noticed something that he thought would be very important for us to know at 2:21in the f*ing morning, and came to inform us…

I closed the door and curled back up in the still warm little spot in the center of my pillow pile. Just as the sweetness of sleep began to creep back into my head the door bell jars me back awake. Okay, now I’m getting just a wee bit peeved.

I briskly made my way down the hall expecting my neighbor to be standing there with what had better be a very important announcement. I swung the door wide only to drag it back to concel myself behind it from the complete stranger standing there on my door step. Apparently the diesel I heard earlier was the sound of a tow truck and not my neighbors’ Mac Tools truck, and there was a little green car on top that the tow truck. The man on my door step requested to speak with the owner of said captured little green car.

“ARE YOU F*ING KIDDING…. YOU INCONCIDERATE, OBNOCTOIUS OBTUCE….” Where all the words running through my mind at the moment but all I could mange to speak was, “Why?”, the only answer that was given in return for my query? The information I was seeking was for the owner of the now imprisoned little green car and only that individual. No longer caring and hearing the call of my pillow pile back in bed I went to retrieve said owner. There was the sound of chains and engines and glass? Not completely certain and shortly after my head hit my pillow, not even close to caring, I drifted back to sleep.

I woke up groggy and terribly cranky yet managed to pull myself up and out of bed to wonder my way down the hall to take a shower. There was hefty draft coming from down the hall, which was odd. I wondered passed the bathrooms to investigate and was greeted by the whole bloody neighborhood block that was cozily framed by the door frame. Mind you I say door frame because the front door itself was standing wide open beneath the warm glow of the porch light that was left on, as if to say welcome all you rapists robbers and rouges, come on in and help yourself. It’s only 9:42 at the moment and I feel I’ve been up for two days. If it weren’t for the slight soreness to my leg muscles this morning I would be far grumpier than I find myself at the moment. So how was your morning?

8/13/07

There's an unidentified feeling floating about in my chest. I wanted to say guts but it's not quite there, and I thought about head but that's a bit too high so the chest is a nice compromise. Still it's there, and I don't know what it is? It's a bit anxious, it's flustered, maybe a bit frightened, I really don't know? I'm guessing there's change coming. It's pry a change in the season coming on. Hopefully that's all it is.

I'm distracted and so far away from where I am, I think, or maybe it's the other way round?

Home doesn't feel like home. Maybe other people are right maybe you can't kept something from your past so near by like this.

There's this restlessness. Maybe it was from lying under the stars last night and feeling so fucking small and insignificant that I question why any of this shit is important.

Ideally if I could have it my way I would prefer to spend most my day in bed with my lover (whom ever that be at the time) indulging my senses to their most extreme bounders. Being a completely glutton at that moment. Walking in the late afternoon and evenings and not have a million and one things on my mind but that moment, watching the world slip by. To be capable of just stopping, to enjoy each second of the things that are around me, with out worry, with out care.

You really can't control much of anything except maybe yourself and even then that's a crap shoot so why not be allowed to enjoy what you can with whom you wish for as long as you wish it? That's pry to many wishes to ask for.

Last Time

Just recalled another thing that happened over the weekend I hadn't thought of and want to share. A friend of mine from high school passed away the beginning of the year. It was an odd feeling, to know someone well but not extremely well, someone you spent almost every day around, for a good chunk of time, someone you would hug every time you said hello and goodbye. They are your age you went to school together and graduated together, drank together laughed, shared thoughts, debate with them, had inside jokes and then you learn that they killed them selves not to shortly before you where both to share you 28th birthdays. It's un-nerving and makes your head spin a bit. I missed the funeral, though it would have been awkward to go in the first place.
I found myself back home with some of my closest friends now, as close as the one who passed and they came with me to try and find his grave. It was a task since he doesn't have a tomb stone yet, (and he was just a sneeky bastard that way) but we managed. We sat round his grave, the ground was still raised a little, because the coffin hasn't settled quite yet, you could almost nuzzle yourself next to the grass lake if he where there. I wasn't sad there was a calmness about the whole thing really, we talked my friends and I. I told them about Erick and all the trouble we would get up to, what he was like and how he was one of my more favorite people to be round in those days. How they would have liked him and all that sort of thing. My memories of those days came flooding back like a monsoon and I smiled and laughed the whole time we sat there hearing his laugh in my ears as if he was reminding me of all our stories and how there was "that one time." He really was a beautiful person no matter how moody or disconnected and quite he seemed. So I guess this is just my little memorial in his passing and final take care of yourself out there till I see you again.

Erick Villegas April 23, 1979 - Jan 10, 2007

Bring on the Cats!

It’s been a very interesting weekend to be sure. I had a really lovely time with the girls in Sac over the weekend. Everyone seemed to be in really good spirits and had a nice time. That made me happy, which was a breath of fresh air after the disappointment I felt from the night before.

It strange but ever since my newly acquired “single” status, I’ve found myself to be very disappointed in my past mates. I know people change and all that but in some way I can’t help but think that there isn’t really all that much change going on and that maybe I was just that blind to all the flaws because of “love”. Now though? Dear lord I see all too clearly and it’s beginning to hurt my eyes. I look at them now with out rose tinted glasses and fuzzy “blurred” effects and think numerous things to myself, in no particular order…

1. How in the hell did I miss that?
2. How in the hell did I put up with it?
3. Why did I ever put up with it?
4. Dear gods please, please, never let me be that dumb again.

Now I’m not saying that the lovers of my past are “bad people” they aren’t they have good hearts with relatively good (initial) intentions. For some reason because of minute attention spans, selfishness, thoughtlessness or down right obliviousness, they wind up conducting them selves in such a fool-hearted manner that I can‘t help be feel a bit disappointed and upset over the actions that I witness. I can’t even begin to count on my fingers an toes now how many times I wish I could have approached these people and point blank asked them without any holding back, “What in the hell do you think you are doing?” An in return I would receive an honest answer and not some lame excuse like, “I don’t know” or “What are you talking about?” As they walk away. Just for future reference I hate these phrases. I used those phrases as a child when I didn’t want to cop to the truth. I know them oh to well and to hear them come out of a fully grown man’s mouth as justification for poor actions is sad.

With all that being said and a lot of the things I‘ve come across in the resent past, I can safely say I’m not to afraid of becoming a “Crazy Cat Lady” I’m fucking looking forward to it, specially if this par for the course when it comes to matter of trying to find that perfect someone. I throw in the town on that shite, if there really is a Mr. Perfect out there that was made just for me he can come find my ass.

Choking on the "L" word

Dear fucking lord on a giant pogo stick in the sky, why I ask you, why!?!?! Why is it only crazy people are the ones who wish to be hopelessly devoted to me? I’ve been honest, I’ve been mean I’ve been cold, distant, curtly kind and every other way I can think of, but for some strange reason some people are just to bloody thick headed, they can’t get it through to their little brains that I’m not interested. So stop, I repeat very firmly STOP EVERYTHING! What else do I have to do, kick you in the nuts? I really don't want to but getting teribly close to not caring as well.
I’m not looking for anything remotely resembling romance or *choke* love at this moment and time in my life and these kinds of affectionate attacks have a very nasty way of making my claws come out and then there is the removing eyes...
I’m very much about the self at this moment and rather enjoying it thank you very much. My standards are a bit high for what I could actually obtain, mayhap? I mean where is my very own Butch Walker or (older) Shawn Harris, punk rock artistic genius? You see why there is a lack of effort in looking for anything any more. If I can’t get what I'd like to have I'm a bit better off with just me and the ink stains around my fingers. Just my random insight for the day.