Well, make that 164 hours to go.

“We are glorious accidents of an unpredictable process with no drive to complexity, not the expected results of evolutionary principles that yearn to produce a creature capable of understanding the mode of its own necessary construction.”
Stephen Jay Gould quotes

Sorry I haven’t been posting much as of late, luckily no one likely reads this drivel…

The last week has pretty much run the gamut, I sat in court for a few hours only to find out that I indeed wasn’t getting un-married that day, worked about 6 hours on my day off and then finally got out of town about 9pm to make a 8 hour drive; vacation and turkey are powerful motivators. After that 24 hours of aggravation however, I did something I haven’t done in a long long time. I took a vacation; as in, NO work. None. Barely even called the in for an entire week. I had forgotten how it felt to actually relax and have a clear mind – how easy it is to think when you let go of all of the distractions we fill our lives with in order to avoid the things that matter. In a nutshell, I remembered what it means to be at peace.

Since I started this blog I have spent most of my time here venting, wrestling with things in an effort to understand how I was going to fix myself. If I realized one thing when I was away it is that as much as I would like to believe otherwise, I really have no control over most of what surrounds me. It’s a bit like leaving a whitewater rafting trip for a ride on the lazy river, mohito in hand. As it turns out, I am a mite bit happier and productive when I am relaxed

If I have my druthers, I am staying right here.

C3-H5-N3-O9

***Well, three days to go.

Things are moving along pretty well and all, and I am a bit surprised at that… I can see how they are turning, but hopefully we have another 72 hours of civility left. ***

I use firefox as my web browser. This is primarily because there is an inline spell-check feature, and I am possibly the world’s worst typist. Seriously, awful. Another brilliant thing about it is a little app called “Stumble Upon”. The way it works is that you fill in some preferences, and it grabs random websites every time you hit the button… way too addictive. Anyway, last night I am stumbling and I land on one of those “divorce recovery” websites – the specific page was an article about how to determine when you were ready to find someone new. Interesting reading really, I actually wish I had read it before I was married, because never mind post divorce; according to this thing I wasn’t ready the first time either. Which is actually true, I wasn’t even close to ready. But who is?

The thing I love about this blog is that it gives me a place to remember honesty, and the more I have thought about it, the more I have realized that Honesty is the lynch-pin of any relationship. Nothing groundbreaking there I know. Most will say communication is the most important thing, but contend that without honesty, communication is worthless. It is the hardest thing to keep alive between two people, and the kicker is that if you do manage to maintain it, if it isn’t applied correctly it can destroy things in and of itself. It’s a bit like the days where railroad workers were making nitroglycerine, one wrong move and you go BOOM, but without it, there is no point in being there because there is no progress. In the old days, they had a serious problem in the manufacturing process, you have to stir it very slowly for a relatively long time, people would fall asleep and knock it over (it is EXTREMELY volatile) hence the “BOOM” above. The solution to this is actually pretty ingenious, they would have the poor chap stirring the mixture sit on an inverted cone, so that his legs formed the other 2 “legs” of the chair, if they started dozing they felt themselves go off balance and generally corrected and woke up.

So what I want to know is; where do I get the cone chair?

Walk Away, Walk Away

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son, fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
'cause we'll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms

If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the No's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

When I first heard the song, I was struck by what a beautiful picture it paints of love, commitment and our human frailty. It so perfectly summed up how I felt at my wedding, the invisible assurance that this was the person you would grow old with; the person who would be your constant. For some it is odd that the essence of love is delivered in a song about death, confused by the concept that being there in the end validates the journey more than the beginner ever could.

I heard it tonight and I was struck again, but not in the same way. The beauty had been replaced by a sense of loss, and the realization that I had gotten it wrong. I haven’t found “the one”, and there was no one that I would be no one to follow anyone anywhere.

Not yet anyhow.

fracture

These days I am not good company, and that bothers me. It seems like all of the places I use to “compartmentalize” are full lately and I cannot put anything away without something else flooding into its place. Perhaps it can be attributed to a bit of indecision on the part of my sub-conscious; or, perhaps, not indecision at all. Perhaps it is just that I am not comfortable unless I am unhappy. Logic tells me to ignore it and that I don’t need to bother, but my heart knows what buttons to push before it locks the door. Either way I end up in the same place. Am I actually so flawed that the only reason I even pursue wholeness is so that I can see that it isn’t attainable?

**edited 11-18-08

Sunday

Catharsis ~ A Greek word meaning "purification", "cleansing" or "clarification." It is derived from the infinitive ancient Greek: καθαίρειν transliterated as "kathairein" - "to purify, purge," and adjective "pure or clean."

-Wikipedia

It’s been fourteen weeks since the day I made my first post; seems more like a lifetime ago though. I was not kidding when I said that I really had no idea what I had to offer. I am also a bit amazed that any of you take to time to read it… grateful, but amazed. When I sat in my living room on that Sunday morning it was on a lark - Where I sit this Sunday, with another omelet and coffee, it has become an outlet that I am not sure I could do without these days, it has let me to be honest with myself more than I have in the last 7-8 years, and although there is plenty of “sludge” to sift through, its starting to help me catch glimpses of who I want to be when I look in the mirror. Oddly enough the fact that I know you all read this blog forces me to be as honest as I can, for more than I would be in private; I feel that if you are willing to take the time, I owe it to you and to myself. Well, that’s enough nostalgia…..

The countdown to the court date is in full swing here, and the concept of amicable is fading fast. She think is finally starting to realize the position she has put herself in. I just want out; I want to go back to having a home that I don’t feel awkward in. I want the space to let this pain happen and feel…, well just feel. Last Thursday was an interesting day here as things are getting pretty heated and after a couple crap interactions with my STBEW’s (soon to be ex-wife) father and with her I started to think back on this relationship and how incredibly unhealthy it was/is. It is pretty easy to see it in someone else’s life, the signs are there. In your own life its not that simple. Once you make the commitment to being with someone you want to think you made the right choices so you start to think their view of you is right, and then you start to shut down. When that happens you just, well you start dying a little at a time, and you start to become the person they see you as. It almost like you trap yourself in there, you give up trying to make things better, choosing to simply exist rather than live. As I have said before, denial is both a powerful ally and an arch nemesis; it is never a friend. But back to Thursday … After dealing with all the external crap I was driving back from work and all of what I have fought to have a handle on for the last weeks came knocking,… I lost it. Sobbing to the point where I had to pull over literally wracked in physical pain. I let go of more in that 10 min in the rain than I knew I was carrying around, for the first time since this mess started I let myself I decided it was time to let the pain cover me and do its work. My God did that help.

“Something in me, dark and sticky
All the time its getting strong
No way of dealing with this feeling
Cant go on like this too long
This time you’ve gone too far
I told you
This time you’ve gone too far

I told you
Don’t talk back
Just drive the car
Shut your mouth
I know what you are
Don’t say nothing
Keep your hands on the wheel
Don’t turn around
This is for real
Digging in the dirt
Stay with me, I need support
I’m digging in the dirt
To find the places I got hurt
Open up the places I got hurt
The more I look, the more I find
As I close on in, I get so blind
I feel it in my head, I feel it in my toes
I feel it in my sex, that’s the place it goes
I’m digging in the dirt
Stay with me I need support
I’m digging in the dirt
To find the places I got hurt
To open up the places I got hurt
Digging in the dirt
To find the places we got hurt”

- Peter Gabriel

Briet on the Eyes

As of late, I have been referencing a fair amount of song lyrics. More often than not I am able to find someone else’s words that do a better job of saying what I am feeling than my own ever could… but that is the beauty of music, isn’t it? Well, tonight there is no clever reference material; not because there isn’t one out there, I just don’t frankly have the energy to look. I am relly starting to wonder just how much more of myself this marriage is going to cost me before it lets go… I am down to 14 days remaining, and it seems that there are more hands reaching for their pound of flesh now than ever. The odd thing is that the issues which would normally be stressors during this (like I have any freaking idea what this is supposed to be like….) are really not going so badly; visitation is sorted, support, holidays… A part of me even thinks it will stay smooth; that this won’t get any uglier. The reality is that reality stunted my optimism a while back, and I am pretty much waiting for the other foot to drop, as they say.

Apparently the people on the fringes of my divorce think it is important that they explain to me just how bad this is for them. This, of course, is because I have nothing else to occupy my mind with besides their problems.

Fuck, I’m tired.

ponder

“Into my hands have come many things
You should be disappointed
For I have wasted most of these
My innocence and youth, I poured them out like water
And to think to you that I am
Still worth saving from the fire
Too many compromises to get me through the day
Help me make the choices, sometimes I am afraid
When I'm deaf to everything but the cry of my own pain
Give me the grace to trust You, I cannot walk away”
- Kevin Prosch -

If there is one topic I try and steer clear of, it is ones faith mechanism. We all have one in one way or another, and in my experience it is singularly the most galvanizing topic that can be discussed… there is just too much baggage that comes with the word. As of late, I have been noticing that part of me waking up, working out the atrophy, reminding me what it was to be aware of, well, God.

I hesitated for a long time posting about this, as I hate the idea what I would somehow be associated with the Jerry Fallwells of this world. I get shivers in my spine when I think of “those” people, and what they do everyday… religion makes me want to vomit. Dogma is the grotesque mockery of the relationship that is spoken of in scripture; and that so many have made it a vehicle for hatred fills me with sorrow.

For the record:

I am not homophobic, and proposition 8 is a travesty.

I am not a member of the Republican Party.

I am not of the opinion that you can have a society based on liberty and take away a woman’s right to choose.

I am repulsed when people shove their belief system down others throats.

I knew what it is to look at the mess that is my life, and feel peace. Grace. To know that something far bigger than me gives a damn what happens to me; and I know that I want to have that back… and not have the bullshit that so many package with it. I know its there, waiting… its under the scars of the last few years, I just need to find it.

hes the chief and he needs hailing

Well, tonight is a post that isn’t centered around how fuct I am. We have a new president, and for once I am happy with the result of an election, not merely for the winner, but for the fact that the people actually went out and voted, and the margin was not slim. A campaign was run with minimal smear ads, the loser actually conceded. Well done America.

For the record, until about 4 days ago, I would have voted McCain. I am not a fan of democrats in general, as they typically seem to want to give away the boat, so to speak; but I am happy that we are trying something different. Who knows if it will turn out for the good or bad, but it is a change. Given McCains ties to PNAC members, I can’t imagine that his administration would have done much differently, and although I am radically pro-military (those men and women deserve more than they will ever receive from us), I do not want us to be there any longer than necessary. My hope is that we can ease off of the position of “world police”…

Granted this may all suck, but what the heck, for better or for worse, it is going to be different, and that is a good thing!

Merry Friggin' Christmas

OK… so I am looking for a place to live.

Not just sleep, but actually start a life over.

Well, sort of.

Not really starting anything new at this point, just adding a shot of reality to what has been here a long time; hidden for the most part, but here nonetheless. Feels like being exposed for the first time, having a chance to not pretend what I am the second I walk in the door. I am waiting for that, wound tight as a spring, hesitating to fell the relief too early. It seems too dangerous to let myself think its actually happening before I am out…. Too many times I have watched something I have planned and hoped for dissolve, finding that the light was indeed a train. I don’t think I would survive that this time around. No, I think I’ll hold off the relief until it arrives knocking, or better yet, till it breaks down the dammed door. That’s pretty much the attitude I am taking towards most things as of late actually; I am really trying not to look forward to very much. I know that may sound a bit defeatist, but the reality is, things tend to not work out the way I would hope as of late (not merely the end of my marriage….), and I would rather not have the letdown. Well, there are a few things I am counting on; things I can’t dismiss… but even they are far from certain. Not that very many things in life are certain, are they?

Alright, this diatribe is just depressing. Everyone take a break and look at some fuzzy bunnies or something. Maybe do a Google image search for Flemish Giant rabbits and realize that you want one.

Christmas came into my head a few minutes ago, not the commercialized horseshit of a holiday that gets slammed down our throats every fall, but the day, Christmas morning.There are few things in life that are better than watching your children streaming down the stairs to find what is under the tree, seeing them tear into the stockings with so much zeal it makes your heart skip. See the youngest of them looking with fascination at the cookie crumbs and empty glass of milk she left for Santa, and know that for this year at least, the magic lives on. I was never really much into Christmas before I had children. My immediate family and I are not super close, and Christmas wasn’t really surrounded by much hoopla as a kid. It was really just a holiday with perks. After I got married, I experienced CHRISTMAS, holy crow. I am not sure if you have seen “National Lampoons Christmas Vacation”, but that is the closest thing I have seen to Christmas at my in-laws. Pretty amazing, 45 people, tons of food, friends… it’s really a lot of fun. Add that to my kids running around all filled with wonder and it is pretty much as close to Norman Rockwell as I intend to get.

Well, that’s something I don’t need to “worry” about anymore. Dec 25^th, 2008 is shaping up to be a quiet morning in a small apartment that I haven’t finished unpacking yet. Hey Randy, it’s my very own “Christmas at Denny’s”. Shit. I honestly don’t have the energy to try and convince myself that this is going to be fine right now. Maybe tomorrow my denial will have charged up enough to get me through, but for tonight, there is no cheer here.

Dyl

When I see you I wonder if you even know
That your eyes say more than the words you don’t?
I sit and stare into space trying to find what captivates you?
There is a peace that surrounds you - a solace I long for

"I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test
...
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through
...
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out you rock 'n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Pretty soon you're gonna get
a little older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can't trace time"

“Changes” – David Bowie, 1971

An interesting side effect of this little trip I am on is watching how I am reacting. Seeing how my sub-conscience interprets what is going on and the types of things I find myself doing as a result is indeed entertaining. As of late, I am on a mission to get back to a time when I was honest with myself, when I felt as close to whole as I ever have. The unsettling part is that I end up somewhere around 1995/96. Thirteen years and too many miles later I am scraping around looking for a moment; trying to determine when I started believing the lies I tell myself. Hanging on to the concept that if I can find out what it is, I can avoid repeating it. So here I am, in my thirties, listening to music I listened to then, re-watching movies, reconnecting with old friends, and trying to remember who/what I was; both good and bad.

Looking back on the last ten years or so, it has become readily apparent that for too long I tried to ignore the “dark” in me. Armed with the notion that no one could accept what I really was, those bits that I bore shame about were discarded. Of course I was very altruistic about it, convincing myself that I was “dealing with it” on my own, that I didn’t need anyone’s help, that I could somehow force a change in myself if I pushed hard and deep enough. It all seems like such a waste of energy from where I sit now. The striving, the sacrifice, trying to reshape myself into what someone else thought I should be. I can’t even blame them for trying – insecure people find it easier to change others than themselves; generally by brute force. The fact that I went along with it for so long, that’s the rub. I’d love to say it was some sort of psychological issue, like Stockholm syndrome or something… but the reality is that I wanted so badly for this to work that I turned a blind eye initially, and later blinded myself completely. I needed for this relationship to be what I thought it was, to be unconditionally loved - accepted. I needed it far too much. So much that even when it became obvious that it wasn’t ever going to be that, I could not accept it. I couldn’t face that I had been so wrong then, and its not any easier as I type this. The major difference is that back then I would have had the luxury of calling it a mistake, but now I see three kids that have ravaged my heart… and I don’t know what to call it. My marriage couldn’t have been a mistake, not if they are the result. But what I am going through now certainly spells out that it wasn’t a good choice either. Like most decisions in life, we have little option but to pick a side and ride it out; or as they say: “Never make a mistake you can’t fix”. Well, at least don’t make one you don’t have time to fix.

there goes the bride

Well, the papers were filed last Friday, on to the fun bits….


Ironically I have been to two weddings this year. I realize that that is not really a high number per-se, but I honestly can’t remember the last one I attended. It is, therefore even more of an odd thing to be here (yes, I am working at a wedding rehearsal the very evening we filed for divorce), watching them prepare, and remembering my own wedding. That this is surreal is an understatement…. More like an out-of-body experience. I can see now how naive I was then… ignorant of what it was we were doing. It makes me curious to know what this couple’s expectations are. On one hand it is very easy to envy their position, young, in love, committing to forever be one. No one knows what will actually come of it, but today is not for thinking about that, today I will enjoy the thought that they will grow old together, watch their children find their way… pathetically romantic I know, but I am at a fucking wedding as a marriage begins, and feeling one end; I can be as delusional as I like.

Marriage is unquestionably the hardest thing I have ever done. As much as there are good times, there is also the constant struggle to find a way to move forward. Granted I am not the most objective voice on the matter; God knows that jaded doesn’t really do my perspective any real justice right now. I wrote in an earlier post about getting off of my “painkillers”, about letting myself feel my way through this.

That seemed like a good idea at the time.

The reality is that this hurts. It hurts like hell. It’s a very bizarre feeling to be in this much pain over the ending of a relationship that has for all intensive purposes been over for a long time, but that spanned more than a third of my life. The finality of it is a carefully drawn two-edged sword; delivering both relief and misery. Having closure to our dissatisfaction is relieving for sure… spending 15 min convincing my son that I am not disappearing in the next five min is another sensation entirely. Having to look at all of my children and know that I in a pretty short amount of time I won’t be coming home to them, I won’t be there to put them back in bed when its stormy -that is misery worthy of Mr. Poe.

Tonight I have confirmed that at heart I am an evil bastard.

Damn.

"You looked like a princess the night we met
With your hair piled up high
I will never forget.
I'm drunk right now baby,
But I've got to be
Or I never could tell you
What you meant to me"
- Randy Neuman, “Marie”


There are times that you need a push.. Something to kick you right to the edge, just so you know how far it is you are about to fall. Whisky works well. For some it is wine… For me it is single malt scotch; preferably with a nicotine chaser. If you play it right you get to that place: drunk enough where honesty cuts through, sober enough to know it isn’t just the alcohol talking.

I spoke to a friend of mine today that I haven’t seen in a long time. It was great to reconnect, and it was in a strange way comforting to hear that the human condition plays no favorites. Pain is pain and we all deal with it in our own way; making, as the poet so eloquently said: “too many compromises to make it through the day”. Life didn’t start out that way for any of us. So full of promise, placing our hope in an ideal, latching onto the fantasy that says life is all love and happiness. Don’t misunderstand; it isn’t wrong to want that, its just not realistic to think that you are walking into a fairytale. I know that sounds incredibly jaded, and more than likely, depressing. That is not the intent… it is just to point out that fantasy gets in the way of reality, not the other way around. There comes a time when we realize that regardless what we thought our lives would be, they are what they are, and no amount of wishing is going to change that. It can change, but positive change is never a passive event. It takes work; apparently that is where character comes from… (Hopefully a cool character, like Mr. Pink, and not some schmuck like Brandon Walsh….) I wrote earlier about painkillers, the analogy holds true here. I have spent the last few weeks wondering why/how I haven’t really felt anything about this divorce and I am finally waking up to the reason – Painkillers. Not pills (although not entirely a bad idea… ) Its easy to let my heart wander, hell, at this point I think it isn’t even have to wander, it remembers where to go. Cutting these off is not something I am anxious for, but I know I’m won’t have any idea what the pain level here in the real world will be until I do… The struggles this life offers up are just footnotes in our story, we choose weather they will help shape us or if they will define us. One is inevitable, the other isn’t. I need tofeel it now before I shove it down low enough that it grows roots.. Time belly up to the bar I suppose.… Well, at least that’s what I am thinking after my third glass of scotch.

Character. Integrity, Honesty. Faith. All three are cornerstones. For some ingenious reason, I seem to have decided to settle at hypocrisy. I probably should have gone the way of stupidity so that I wouldn’t have to have knowledge of that. The bliss of ignorance really sounds like a nice break.

The water is boiling, and I can’t feel a sound.

We have all heard the story about what happens when you place a frog in a pot of warm water and slowly rise the temperature… they are unable to detect the gradual change in temperature, and eventually they die a Clive Barker quality death in a boiling vat of water.
Well, truth be told, this is nothing more than an urban myth. The little buggers always jump out.

Why can’t we?

Feelings…. What a pain in the ass.

I had a bit of an epiphany a few days ago. I have decided to become one of those “sensitive men of the nineties”. You know the sort, all touchy-feely with their Sarah McLachlan cds and black loafers; spreading sunshine and bad philosophy wherever they may roam. What the hell, I may even get a beret. A big flaming red one.

Well, maybe not the beret.

I am however, doing what I can to stop bottling things up. I have worked hard these last few years convincing myself that bad was good that it honestly takes a good deal of effort now to experience reality… how fucked up is that? After all, that is the basis of our humanity, isn’t it? When you stop being honest with yourself, it’s like dying from a thousand little cuts. On their own they don’t amount to much, by the time you see what is happening, it is too late to stop the bleeding. Ten plus years of a failed marriage served well to teach me that. After all that you would think I would at least know what I am about… The reality however is that I do a hell of a lot better with other peoples issues than my own, I always have. Maybe that's because my own are a bit of a mystery to me. Plus, all of the time spent solving everyone else’s problems gives me a multitude of good excuses to not deal with my own. Messiah complex, anyone?

This is actually significantly harder than I envisioned it would be when I hatched this little plan. It’s like I have some sort of emotional atrophy… everything is intact; I just have to learn what they do all over again. And the more they flare up, the less in control I am… my nerve endings exposed, raw… the slightest sensation exaggerated, amplified.

According to my doctor, I have Bi-polar disorder. He may well be correct, the hedonist in me doesn’t like this pain and wants to quit; but the self-loathing I have perfected over the last thirty-odd years won’t let me avoid it. In my world, that’s about as polarized as it gets.

Scar Tissue

I have been torn the last few days, torn between what I think and what I feel. I am not sure how to even express in words what the sensation of that is like; I fell anxious, nervous, ... pensive. Granted, this had been somewhat normal these last weeks, but there is an intensity that is unique, like there are choices to be made, and I am unprepared to make them. I understand more than I have in a long time what I want; I am starting to see the pieces that are missing.

It is a hard thing to actually feel again… for so long I left things bottled up… there was just so much that I didn’t want to deal with, too many things that I didn’t have the strength to face. It just seemed easier to shut down and tell myself I would deal with it all later… then days turned to weeks, and then months... and here I am; fighting to get my life back.

I really don’t know what this all means exactly. I wish I had an answer, that I could make sense of things better. Maybe none of that matters… perhaps I am just being me and over thinking things… I do know that in many ways she amazes me. The way my heart stops beating when I see her, the way my breath catches in my throat at the sound of her voice; nothing has made me feel like that in a long time. Too long. I want to forget about everything and give this a real shot; to find out what if there is anything here, but I am in no shape for that. I need time ... there is too much to be put into order and away from the chaos. I need to remind my self to remember what love is before I try again to love anyone, even myself. Not trying to understand it… that would be futile, but to know its voice, and remember how its hand felt in mine.

Faith and hope are moments away, but the greatest of three eludes me.

”Love will you sail across the water,
and lay your wisdom down?
and love will you sail across the water,
and tell us what you found?
and love will you sail across the water,
and hold us when we drown?”

-Jane Sibbery

the Lust, the Flesh, the Eyes, and the Pride of Life

“Well, I feel
Like I have to feel
Something good all of the time
With most of life I cannot deal
But a good feeling I can feel
Even though it may not be real
And if a person, place or thing can deliver
I will quiver with delight
But will it last me for all my life
Or just one more lonely night

The lust, the flesh
The eyes
And the pride of life
Drain the life
Right out of me”
-Michael Roe


Alright, I have pushed this off for far too long. Life came calling in a big way these last couple weeks and frankly, I use this place mostly as a way to vent my thoughts, and there are a lot of things that I would rather not think about…

All of the upheaval in my life right now is certainly serving to bring up some questions. It has forced me to look at things that I had long since buried and left for dead; it was surprising indeed to find some of them alive and festering. Now, know this about me, I am by no means a subscriber or believer of pop-psychology. There are few things more difficult to me than hearing someone talk about ‘finding themselves” and such. It’s hard for me to come to grips with the fact that I have let too much of what I was cease being what I am; leaving me with a person I basely recognize staring at me when I shave. Regression displacing Evolution. I do not look at this as an excuse for anything; I am no victim in all this. Eventually we all answer for the compromises we make to get through the day… they can’t stay in the box forever. This is where I live. I am trying like all hell right now to find a piece of me that feels… well, that feels real... that feels honest. The thing about that sort of search is that you can’t just go rooting around in your psyche and grab only the thing you want to find… there is no Dewey decimal system no map; not for me anyway. It’s a freaking mess in there… you just have to reach you arm in blind and pull out whatever you contact first, hoping not to get bit in the process.

Good Times.

I have held up a pretty good front through all this (well, in my own head anyway, those who know me would most likely say otherwise), but that is starting to fail. I catch myself thinking too much, un-bottling things that need to stay put for a while longer; I just can’t get into the emotions of all this while I am trying to figure out the logistics. I just can’t let those things out of the box... not if I can help it. The simple fact is that this is leaving a tear in my heart that you could drive a Mack truck through… Not so much the failure of our relationship; that has been coming for a long time (I would venture to say it was here long before I realized it.). Just the finality of it all… it is no small thing to see 11 years of your life get flushed, all the time knowing that simply pressing “reset” isn’t an option; I need to find a way to live life, separate from the one I thought I was growing old with, and maintain a career and a relationship with my children…. The thought of all of that is why the lyric above fits so well for me, things have been fucked up for so long that there are times I just want to be at peace. Like a junkie I yearn for it, and like a junkie I will do whatever it takes to get it….. (If you read my post “Vicodin and Crutches” you will understand what I mean by all that.).

I am not sure (as per usual) what all this leads to. I am walking a bit blind to be honest, just trying to hold the pace and keep as straight a line as I can in the dark. I know the complete son-of-a-bitch I am at a base level, but I have also known grace, and seen the two co-exist. I remember what it was to have a conscience clear ... to not have to think about the wolf at the door, or the painkilers in the drawer… back when my skin was comfortable and I slept without medication. I know there is life there. And I know that I left at least a piece of it in the tangled mess that is my mind…. somewhere…..
it's probably next to my dammed car keys.

Papillon

a·lone
adj.
1. Being apart from others; solitary.
2. Being without anyone or anything else; only.
3. Considered separately from all others of the same class.
4. Being without equal; unique.
adv.
1. Without others: sang alone while the choir listened.
2. Without help: carried the suitcases alone.
3. Exclusively; only: The burden of proof rests on the prosecution alone.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.


“Alone” is one of those words… We all use it; it has too many applications to be truly avoided. Even though its usage is commonplace, its invocation has not lost its impact. Nobody wants to be the one left alone. It conjures up different images in each of us… none more real than the other; weather it is the first day at a new school as a kid, or the overwhelming isolation that a room full of people provides. The very essence of who we are longs for a sense of belonging, and given enough time it will find it….. Regardless of what that entails.

So I suppose I am curious what that will look like for me. Right now I am occupying myself with logistics and pretty much avoiding the emotional side of things. Today was a great example of this; my wife and I had about a 30 minute conversation about the separation timeline, who gets what and when I move out. I realized afterward that I really felt nothing about it… and with that came the knowledge of just how intense this is going to be when I finally allow myself to process. But that is a pain for another day, and before I feel that, I will get to define exactly what it means for me to be alone.

The Ballad of R.E. Hannegan

There’s no point in holding on
Nothing gained in this backward game
Lock your heart, take it back
Forget the power in a name

There are no answers here
Questions flow like bitter tears
A hermit’s tune drifts through the hills
Knowledge held in a forgotten song

Memory creeps in a sliver of light
Casting shadows on the mind’s eye
Siren’s cry rattling the vanilla sky
Reality calling her children home tonight

Stop asking why
Stop saying please
Stop making promises you won’t keep
Open your eyes boy, you forgot to breathe.

..........

The great thing about an anonymous blog is that you can pretty much say whatever the hell you want. It can be a beautiful thing, rather cathartic really. There are times you just have to say something that you really don’t want people to be asking questions about; things that you need to actually communicate in order to even begin to believe they are real; kind of like pinching yourself in a dream.

For me, this is one of those times, as I was informed yesterday that I am about to be divorced. “Divorced” Wow, now there is a serious word… rather grown up really. Reality may be a slow mover, but when she gains momentum the impact can be quite impressive….

I will be the first to admit, I am no picnic to be with. If you have been following along on my little journey here you should have realized that fact by now. I honestly hold no grudge toward her, in a way I am a bit surprised that it has taken this long. I have always had it in the back of my head, nagging away; I am far to “quirky” of a person not to cause friction. I just didn’t think it would be now, not here, not like this. I always imagined fighting to save it, refusing to go quietly…

But here I am; 33 and looking at apartments and lawyers; wondering what is next.

Anyone have a map I can borrow? All I see are errors and omissions when I attempt to plot a course here.

Ill fitted skin does a poor wardrobe make.

The other day I was talking with a very good friend of mine, and they asked me a question that sort of stopped me in my tracks; mostly due to my answer and the fact even after I have spent a few days thinking it over, I still have the same answer.

The Question - “have you ever felt like you were truly happy?”

My answer was “no”, and it was a bit sobering to hear it. Now, before you think my real world name is Morrissey, allow me to explain that I have indeed experienced happiness. I defiantly have things that make me feel happy, and I am extremely blessed to have people I love and that love me in my life, it just isn’t a state of mind that is sustained. I really don’t want to come off as another disenfranchised gen-x-er in all this, I really don’t feel like I have any unique reason to be unhappy… I actually live a pretty enviable life for the most part.

The Merriam Webster dictionary defines “happy” in the following manner:
Adjective - enjoying or characterized by well-being and contentment

There is an interesting concept – “contentment”, There is an emotion I really haven’t felt; other than on rare occasions. As I think about it now, it may be one of the only things in life I that makes me feel guilty; as screwed up as that is. I really haven’t been able to find the root cause of that; it has just always been there, gnawing away at my resolve, driving my self doubt to new heights. It fuels my defenses; it tells me I am not worthy....And more often than not, I listen.

In all of this thought process in these last days I have done something I generally leave out of my blogs, I actually reached a conclusion, as trite as it sounds… I want to be happy. I want to feel that comfort that comes from being at peace with yourself. I want my skin to “fit". Defiantly lofty goals to be made in a hotel lobby. We shall see where it goes.

Anywhere

How do I keep missing you when you’re everywhere?
Your breath inches from my face as I blankly stare;
I look everywhere...
But you’re right here.

Your scent on the breeze
Your hands over me
Whisper in the trees
………Everywhere
…And I’m right here.

Putting on miles without getting closer,
Burning up time just to watch it smolder.
Seasons ask why they get older;
Heroes fail as the critics get bolder
…But you’re still here

There was a time that I shared this space
Comfortable in this skin, the sun on my face
Darkness creeps in at a persistent pace
Denial serves fantasy’s plan to our disgrace
… But you’re still here

Babs

I went to a wedding today.

A simple, small affair, but beautifully done.

Before the bridal procession, they played a short video… one of those “here are a bunch of photos of or lives set to music” sorts of things; always a feel good moment. Everybody loves baby pictures, and baby pictures set to Robert Goulet? Fuggedaboudit.

Of course, far be it from me to simply sit there and enjoy the moment. No, I instead decide to try and figure out what it is that is so alluring about this sort of thing… in the end, for me at least, it all came back to memories. We sit there watching photographs from the life of someone we barely know flash across the screen and at a base level we want those memories to be ours. Well, we want the fantasy that we associate with them….

After all, there are no bad memories in those photos…. right?

September Grass

Autumn is my favorite season. Most people find solace in spring, but I am constantly amazed at autumn's ability to make things new. There is nothing quite like feeling summer’s last sunburn meeting the cool of a September night, and realizing that change has ambushed you again. Relationships change, relationships end.....It’s when we move on.

Which, by the way, I suck at.

I swear, I am blind to signs that most people can see coming all the way across town. I rock at relationships beginning... Maybe that isn't odd at all; could be that as time goes on I just stop believing the bs I tell myself, that attachment isn't inevitable, that I won't get involved - the problem is I just can't do those things halfway. At least it serves as a good reminder to just how personal hurt can be. Sooner or later the realization hits; this feeling must have been the goal in the first place... If not, why repeat the cycle? Why not make this time the last time?

Like the poet said: "time may change me, but I can't change time". She is a cruel companion, as relentless as love, as unforgiving as a lover scorned... We are supposed to learn her lessons, to grow, evolve. I was supposed to be better at this by now.

....

My moral compass is so far out of skew right now it is actually beyond amazing.

Damn.

Well, I suspect I may as well wish you well here, not that you will see it, and I do want you to know that in my own twisted way, I hope you are well, and hope that you find one who knows your worth.

‘

Shut.

terminally unsure how it’s missed,
the sign on the wall.
a scent in the air.
midnight has fallen uncountered


head turned in a moment
on visions edge a light dancing free
wholly without substance
consuming all space


nothing left unsaid
explanations fleeting
mouth drawing dead air
hollow words falling without ears

All that Diamond ecard Hoo Ha, baby!

Alright, lest I come off as a bit to serious and gloomy... I have a confession to make.


It is 1:31AM and I am on the back patio,its 64 degrees, the new Supergrass album is jamming on my ipod, All I can say is.... pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good.

Also, I got tipped off to a killer ecard site, excellent stuff!

http://www.someecards.com

Vicodin & Crutches (or, the treachery of the human heart)

About 10 years ago, I shattered my right wrist just above my hand. I was pretending to be a carpenter and fell about 18 feet off of a roof, woke up laying on the ground with my right hand on my right elbow…. Not one of my better moments. Eventually, after a surgery and some pretty intensive rehab I got my hand back, but before that, I learned what the term “vicodin vacation” means. Pill in, Pain gone; and not just the physical pain either. I can’t remember about 5 weeks of that autumn.

For me, dropping the vicodin was pretty easy. Took a couple days, and I weaned myself off. If the other painkillers I am addicted to were as simple life would indeed be an easy place.

But they aren’t.

We all have them in life, some more than others... Our heart knows what we need, acceptance, peace... love. Honesty. If we deny ourselves that, lying to ourselves to get by, it is only a matter of time until our hearts take over, looking for something, anything to fill the gap…Once it finds it, we are like junkies… disregarding the warnings in our heads, our heart latches onto it, and it gets us through.... trading a small piece of our soul for some peace that we know can’t last. With any luck it all falls apart before the real damage happens, when eventually we wake up and see we have traded too much; the numbness itself feels normal... We try and pull up; to go back, to somehow forget... and so the cycle repeats itself as we search for something to numb the carnage of the last painkiller…. to quote Thom Yorke, “all your insides torn to pieces, you just sit there wishing you could still make love.”

I suppose that this would be the part of the post where I give the eloquent solution, if I had one. All I can really say is that if you are early on in the journey, Try and listen to that small voice that says “maybe I shouldn’t do this”. Skip the memory, avoid the grief. If you are like me, it’s a bit late for that… all that is left is to either stare down your hypocrisy and force a correction, or maintain the cycle. Still unsure which path I am on.

Tuesday's Gone.

Waiting.
And more waiting.
Tech Support phone calls suck.

It seems I spend a lot of time these days waiting for things to happen, instead of initiating.... I do well putting up a front of being in control, but eventually the sickening reassurance of it takes over. There are two kinds of fear - one relates to terror, the other respect; there is a line that separates the two, I really don't know which I prefer to run two, but I do know the strange comfort it provides, regardless how we feel about it. Sometimes the fear of the unknown coming to light is just too powerful. My inner dark is like a car wreck on the freeway for me… I really don’t want to look but I have to. I am too dammed curious to leave well enough alone, if you are one of those who have been able to experience my sadomasochistic search for the why you know what I mean. I am the guy who needs to break something just so he knows where the limit was, and so I can understand the pain of its loss. It isn’t an easy thing to be with, and not many manage. (Defense mechanism anyone?) Luckily for the relationships I cherish, I do a solid job of hiding the "ugly" bits; at least that is what my denial tells me.

Perhaps that is why I am here; have to let the monster out somewhere.

I half-jokingly think I am ready to plan my mid-life crisis, but the reality of it is that I can’t imagine trying to go back to being young. Sure things were easier, but I can’t imagine losing the experiences of the last 15 years just to feel “young” again… even the bad ones. I am the summation of my life… good, bad, even the hidden all have created this … well… they add up to what I am. Don’t get me wrong, I remember being a teenager. I didn’t know what stress was, what responsibility was, but I thought I did. Back then losing sleep meant you were tied up in knots over some girl and if she was going to call back, or getting sent into a panic because some jag off started spreading rumors. High stress situations were wondering if I could get tickets to a show, or if we were going to come up with spare cash for gas and pharmaceuticals. There was an innocence to it all, a simplicity that I couldn’t see through my teen-angst. And really, what did I even have to be so pissed off about? Yet another white middle class kid with a shaved head… misunderstood in my own misunderstanding. Fred Savage never had it so good.


Hey, they finally answered… back to work!

the big "O"

OK, so i get that it is an amazing accomplishment, and I do enjoy the Olympics... but I realized tonight that i really could care less about any swimming pool that doesn't include a lazy river and a mohito..

I mean really...

Just a song i wrote in HS... I really really thought i was DEEP ~ whatever.

questions last for answers past
like songs ringing in an empty hall
lyrics lost, the tune trapped in the back of your head
like the name of a long lost friend
left hanging on the tip of your tongue

meeting like a spark in an alley of gasoline
burning Hot, Fast
burning Lean
time won’t wait for logic, will we scar or will we heal?
what is this if it isnt’t real?

your dream wakes you up with technicolor memories
I’m back; you remember my touch on your skin
but in the morning its gone
it’s gone.
and only he can call your name.

a mind’s a terrible thing to taste
tear your soul open, leave it to waste
denial makes for a two faced friend
and in the dark it draws you in
the warmth of pain is sickening

meeting like a spark in an alley of gasoline
burning Hot, Fast
burning Lean
time wouldn’t wait for longing, we've got scars that will not heal?
what was this if it wasn’t real?

Hysteresis 101

Ok, I am yet another thirty something guy who, over a coffee and an omelet this morning, decided to start a blog…. Not sure what it is exactly that I think I have to offer, it is more a place to vent what rolls around in this head of mine to be honest; ramblings, poetry, opinions that are better left unsaid, politics…could end up being whatever was on the back of the cereal box that morning. Maybe you will find something here that you relate to, maybe you will just get a chuckle out of my thought process and “substantially less-than-stellar” grammatical skills; either way thanks for reading, and feel free to add a comment… anyway, I suppose it is time to step out of the silent planet ~

“A system with hysteresis can be summarized as a system that may be in any number of states, independent of the inputs to the system. ..... If the system has hysteresis, we can't predict the output without looking at the history of the input. In order to predict the output, we must look at the path that the input followed before it reached its current value." - Wikipedia

Now, that may not mean much to anyone else, but to me it defines a major process in my life… looking backwards to start seeing forward. We are the sum of what was, and whatever we do with that result is what determines what we will be. The goal would be to actually learn from the glance over the shoulder, to find the bit that lets us stop repeating whatever it is we can’t seem to let go of. If you are overly optimistic, it would help you continue to dance along merrily through the wildflowers is suppose. If that happens, feel free to enlighten the rest of us J