Two things I learned today

I learned two things from the  WTF podcast today and I decided to write them down here in the hopes of keeping the lessons with me longer.  The first thing was a little spiritual life truth and the second was what seemed to be a direct piece of advice to me about stand up comedy.

The spiritual life truth: The meaning of life is nothing.  There is no meaning to this life.  The only one who gives this life meaning are people and most people go with a negative meaning.  It's just kind of cool to have another angle to look at things.  I really like perspective.  I'm the only one who gives life meaning.  Is my meaning "this sucks"?  Or will I choose something different?  I guess it depends on the day.  Or maybe even the time of day.  Right now I choose my meaning of life to see wonderment in this world and share it with my family and people around me.

The second thing I learned was a piece of comic insight that spoke directly to me.  The comedian talking had been doing comedy for many years, he had figured out how to make people laugh.  He had figured out how to be funny (which every comedian should definitely learn).  The only problem was he wasn't being himself, he was being cheesy.  He was pretending to be a happy guy when he wasn't.  One day he said "fuck it" and came up with a 3 minute rant on how pissed off he was at life.  The crowd cheered and gave a standing ovation, they went wild.  The problem was he only had 3 minutes.  After that he jumped back into his nice guy persona and the crowd gave him 7 minutes of silence.  They could see he was lying to them.

This comedian knew he was on to something so he continued to dive further into the darkness that was his truth.  This is when a new problem arose.  He would just come out and say something like' "So do guys know what it's like when your Mom is in an insane asylum?"  The crowd didn't know what to make of him.  Was he serious?  Or was he just making up weird shit?  The comic learned that he could just jump into crazy shit like that.  He had to properly set up the jokes so everyone knew where he was coming from.  He had to start slow.  He had to lube up the audience.  Then he found he could take them there.

I remember when I was learning sales in the mortgage industry one of my sales coaches said to me, "You can't just ask a girl out on a date and then immediately pull her panties down and stick your penis in her.  You have to wine and dine a girl, then you take her home and pull her pants down and stick your penis in her." 

This is the lesson I need to take away for my comedy.  I'm a weird guy, and very strange stuff happens to me and I do very strange stuff.  Very unbelievable stuff.  I can't just expect the audience to be with me from the start.  I must take them on a journey.  I can't stick my penis in the audience right when I get on stage, I need to wine and dine them before I do that.

Move back

The hair is a concern
No respect will you earn
The shirt is a wreck
And your mouth is like heck
Your brain is a mess
Immediately confess
Sins fill your soul
Satan fills that hole
Fight for the notes
Wear corduroy coats
Run from those friends
Where trouble never ends
Open up your eyes
See nothing but lies
Smiles turn to hell
No sounds when you yell
Now nothing has weight
From the previous state
You've fallen down hill
Running only from still
Yet this is the gate
To the friendly fate
The one that does learn
Away from the burn
Backing does prove
Indeed a good move

sour taste

Laughs were had
Goodbye to sad
It's your eyes
deep like skies
turn to me
the blinding sea
reach to mine
act unkind
it doesn't work
don't be a jerk
just let your hands
walk the stands
don't be the take
create with make
sour taste
can embrace

The I likes

Story time again. The kids are bathed and in bed.

Here we go.

There was a boy who loved toys. His name was Bonky. Bonky is a funny name but that's the name his Mommy and Daddy gave him. His Mommy and Daddy loved him a lot. They loved him so much that they kept buying him toys and also wii games. Bonky screams out loud,"I love game cube! And I can play game cube games on my Wii."

"That's nice Bonky" said his mom.

Bonky had toys in his room. His Mommy put shelves by the wall just for toys. His Dad bought a big Thomas the train chest just for toys. Bonky put his toys on the shelves but when the shelves were too full he put toys in the chest. Pretty soon the chest of toys was filled to the top. Then he tried to put toys in the closet but there was no room.

"There's no room in the closet because that's where all your costumes are," Bonky's Mom said.

When Bonky opened the closet all his costumes fell out. Bonky closed the closet and put toys under his bed. Then toys started coming out under his bed. Pretty soon there were toys all across Bonky's floor. There were toys everywhere.

Bonky's Mom and Dad gave him outside toys too but pretty soon you couldn't even go outside because it was all toys. There were so many toys you couldn't even walk out there.

When Bonky went to sleep he had a dream that there were so many toys in his home that his house blew up. Bonky woke up scared but he was happy when he realized he was safe in his bed. He went to go sleep the rest of the night with Mommy and Daddy.

In the morning Bonky said,"I think I have too many toys. I don't even like all my toys and the ones I like I can't even find!"

Bonky's Dad said,"I think I can help," and he walked with Bonky to his room. "Bonky, I'm going to hold each toy in front of you and you tell me if you like it or not." His Dad would take a toy and show it to Bonky,"Do you like this one?"

"Yes I really like this one," Bonky said. And Dad would keep it.

Then his Dad said,"Do you like this one?"

And Bonky said,"I don't know." and his Dad put it in a pile to give away.

Then his Dad said,"What about this?"

"Um Maybe."

His Dad put that in the pile to give away too."

By the end Bonky had a clean room and only toys that he liked. Bonky learned that you need to get rid of the "I don't knows" and the "Maybes" to make room for the "I likes".

The end.

Hangry monster

I'm going to attempt to write an original kids story as I sit in my kids room and tell it to them live.

Me: I'm gonna tell you guys a story.

Kid 1: Ok so we have to use our imaginations?

Kid 2: Is it going to be that batman story?

Me: I'm going to make it up now.

Once upon a time there was a really mean monster. His name was Baddad. He liked to get angry when things didn't go his way. Baddad would yell and scare people. If they walked in front of him he would yell,"Get out of my way sucker!". And they would get out of his way.

He liked to use bad words, like the S word "stupid" and the H word "hate". His heart was full of hate.

Then one day he met a princess and her heart was full of love. He said,"Hey princess why don't you get out of my face?!"

The princess wasn't scared of the monster. She said,"I'm not scared of you monster."

And the monster said,"You better be scared of me cause I'll kick your princess butt!"

The princess said,"You can't kick my butt because I'm a beautiful princess. And I have a beautiful butt because everything about a princess is beautiful and you can't kick things that are beautiful."

The monster said,"You think you're a pretty cool princess don't you?"

She said,"I am the coolest princess of the land. I don't think you're that mean of a monster."

And then the monster said,"If you don't know me by now you will never never know me."

The princess said,"I think you're hungry and that's why you're so angry, you're hangry. Would you like some food?"

"Ok I would like some pizza please."

The princess smiled and said,"How about a slice of veggie?"

The monster accepted the pizza and ate it all up. "I feel a lot better now princess, I'm not even mad any more."

The princess smiled again and said,"Sometimes when you're mad you should eat something because maybe you were hungry."

"Thank you for the pizza princess. Can I have a hug?" the monster said.

The princess gave the monster a big hug and they became best friends.

The end.

The irony of fuck it

I take life too seriously sometimes. I definitely let myself get worked up by things that don't make a difference. Sometimes I trip out on how much of my life I put weight on things that won't mean shit to me when I'm on my deathbed.

My mom really made me start to think about this. She has a lot of nice things. She really likes nices things, they're very important to her. Keeping these nice things nice is very high on her priority list. Building a loving relationship with her son? Not so much. She's worked her whole life to have nice things. She deserves nice things in her life! Don't fuck with her things.

She's in her 70's and I think about what she chooses to focus her energy towards. Things and what people think. When she's on her deathbed will she be so happy that she was able to keep her hardwood floor pristine? Will she be glad she worked so many hours at those jobs where the bosses didn't give a fuck about her?

The worst realization you can get when you get older is to see yourself be one your parents. The worst part of them. I still try to be in denial about this but I know there are some things lurking deep inside. I worry a lot. My mom's a worry wart. And I overreact to thing that aren't a big deal. I overreact to thing I can't change. Everytime I do this a little piece of me hardens and dies. I'm slowly killin myself when I get angry at things I can't change. I've become rigid and when my world changes without my permision I blow a gasket.

Over 16 years ago on the night before I decided to quit drinking I had a great attitude. I was at a bar that my joke band had played at and I had just bought the bar drinks with the money my real band had earned the night before. We through all the equipment in my van and when someone tried to shut the side door the whole door fell off onto the ground. Now my reaction to this is the key to life. I simply said,"Well it looks like we won't be needi g that door anymore.". I laughed. It was hilarious.

It was after this nightthat I decided to quit drinking. Isn't it ironic that my fuck it attitude was what caused me so many problems that I decided to change my life yet it's the fuck it attitude that I need now to save it?

Sometimes when life doesn't go our way we need to be able to say,"I guess I won't be needing that door anymore.". It's this attitude that I crave. It's this attitude that makes life fun, that creates the party. And it's this saying that was made for me: The party starts when te worrying stops.

Surprise me

They say that if you're in a place in your life where you have no clue what direction you're heading, this could be a good thing. I guess the thought is if you're not connected to any particular path then the full spectrum of possibilities has opened up to you. Anything is possible when you're in this space. I spend a lot of time here it seems.

Here's to possibilities! Surprise me.

Reviewing and Editing

I think this is my third post on comedy as I understand it.  The more I know the more fucked up I am.  Being funny in night clubs consistently for long periods of time is not as easy as you would think.  Well I guess no one really thinks it's easy.

Ask any comedy veteran what it takes to be a comedian and the answer usually comes down to: write and perform.  Ok I get it.  Let's start with the writing.  A lot of comedians don't sit down and write.  They do something called "writing on stage".  This is where they come up with an idea and then just get up on stage and riff with said idea.  They do this over and over again, hopefully keeping the parts that got laughs and discarding the parts that didn't.  I heard a quote from Jerry Seinfeld that basically went, "I don't know what's going to be funny.  I get up on stage and the audience tells me what's funny and what's not funny.  Basically the audience is writing my act."  Ok so people write on stage and they let the audience tell them what's good and what's not.

What I want to focus on is writing.  Not jotting down thoughts of inspiration to riff on later but actually sitting down to write.  Sitting down to write comedy can be a scary thing.  I like to keep this thought in the back of my head that says, "If I sat down and wrote everyday I'm sure I could come up with great comedy material."  But then that's all it is, is a thought.  It's like this thought that keeps my ego filled with this false self image that I contain greatness in me if only I were to apply myself.  This allows me to think I'm great while at the same time not really doing anything.  The scary part comes when you apply yourself and there is no greatness there.  What does your ego do then?  When it's met with a lie.  When the application of self discipline doesn't supply us with the genius that we've been telling ourselves we have.  This is the fear.  This is the tragedy.  This is what  really separates the men from the boys.

I hear all these great writers say that the goal is always to write.  If nothing else just write.  I'm here to say that I've done that fro over 270 days in a row and the results are very underwhelming.  They're frustrating.  I remember one time a friend of mine, who's a writer told me he had written a few novels.  I was impressed and asked him to give me a chapter.  He gave me a chapter and I couldn't make heads from tails about what was going on in this story.  This guy had written a book over a thousand pages but it didn't make sense to me.  Now I knew my friend and he's a smart, articulate and most importantly very funny guy.  Why the fuck did his book make no sense and suck so bad?

He never edited!!!!!!!  He never reviewed.  He used to speak about the band The Talking Heads and would tell me how the genus of this band was the producer.  The band would record hours of material and this genus producer would edit it into incredibly brilliant 3 minute songs.  He was waiting for his editor.  The problem was, his editor never came!

I can't waste this guys pain.  All these great writers love to talk about writing but I have discovered that writing isn't good enough.  We have to review.  We have to edit.

The lesson I'm learning is that yes writing is the most important thing for any writer.  Writing is like air for a writer.  With no air we die.  With no writing the writer dies!  But the thing no one talks about is reviewing and editing.  Reviewing and editing is like food and water for the writer and if we don't have food and water we also die, no matter how much air we breath.  As a comedy writer I need to review my material and I need to edit.  I heard George Carlin say that he learned early on to write things down and then file them.  He said that it's no good to write something down if you can't find it when you need it.

Here's to reviewing and editing!

PS I totally didn't review or edit this blog entry. WTF!

See dawn

Weepy eyes and TV ties
Wet hair a droopy stare
Fun had with minus mad
Be rad and tell dad
arms spread boards fled
sleepy songs working wrongs
no back only slack
hold on see dawn

Real men don't have jobs

Some people think I'm a loser just because I don't have a job and don't pay bills and stuff. People with jobs think they're so cool all paying their bills and wearing their company shirts and khaki shorts. Women think they're so cool judging guys without jobs just because the guy can't support them. Women look at men without a job the same way a man looks t a woman without a vagina.

What I want to say is that a job is the wort thing you could do for your manhood. A real man avoids a job! A job makes you conform. A job makes you someone elses bitch. A job takes away your ability to think. The job thinks for you. Thy tell you what to think. A job takes away your ability to speak your mind. Any man who can't speak his mind isn't a man. He's a girl.

Real men don't have jobs. Jobs are for pussies. I don't have a job because I'm a man and becase I'm a man I'm a winner!

What if it still doesn't work?

Why is it so scary to write?  I read that book.  The one that talks about how the hardest thing with writing is not writing but it's sitting down to write.  Fuck!  It's hard.  It scares me.  Today I've written everyday for 276 days in a row.  And I've done yoga everyday for the same period of time.  The problem?  My path is getting narrow.  Just the act of writing to write isn't good enough for me anymore.  WTF! 

I want a 45 minute comedy act.  I'm not getting the material as fast as I want to.  This is where some comics in my position will just steal other peoples act because they're afraid of doing the work.  The work is scary.  Find what makes people laugh is a scary proposition, especially if you are doing it in a way that exposes your own personal truth.  The reason being, you have to find your personal truth.

No one wants to know their personal truth!  Our whole society is based around avoiding your truth.  We're trained to looked outward for personal satisfaction.  To get a job and then to buy things.  TV's, homes, cars, clothes, wives and anything else that can temporarily fill that void.  But with comedy you have to dive head first into that void.  You have to be fearless.  I'm scared.

My new goal is to try and write comedy for 1 hour a day.  This fucking terrifies me!  I don't think I can do it.  Why is this?  I think part of it is the fear of failure.  We all love to say how we could do something if we just had the time or if the circumstances were different.  But what if we couldn't?  What if the circumstances were different?  What if we made the time?  What if we did the work and still we were a failure.  This is my fear.  What if I do everything I know I should and could do and still I fail?  This is the fear I must face.  The place of the unknown.

Bernember me

Bernember me?  I love that ride.
Sail the sea.  Sleep inside.
The Delta river.  That's where we'd go.
The lady giver.  The late night show.
The lunch time boat.  The all day ski.
Still my coat. The great memory.
Thanks for that.  Mine to keep.
The river rat. The boys will sleep.
Toys are fun.  All the play.
Breath is done.  The soul will stay.

You can't

You can't go outside.  You can't watch TV.  You can't have fun or talk to me.
You can't eat candy.  You can't ride bikes.  You can't walk over to Mike's.
You can't run. You can't skate.  You can't call your friend for a play date.
You can't jump.  You can't yell.  You can't taddle on your brother and tell.
You can't read.  You can't write.  You have to do nothing all through the night.
You can't play with toys.  You can't play a game.  You can't cry and complain.

OK. Never mind.  Go crazy.

Mom Dad Indy Stone

it's close to perfect there's the girl
we've found our place our little world
inside the tree up above
see the view of newborn love
seems too young to be so true
dreams are far and but catch the few
that drift unto the sacred sky
the branches seem to be so high
but soon all does disappear
until the next play is near
a memory fades into the night
the moon is high the stars are bright
loving laughs inside the car
a song can travel very far
from two to three and three to four
the branches grow then come more
never will you be alone
Mom and Dad Indy Stone

We need God

Some people say that we don't need God in our lives.  They obviously don't understand that God gives our lives meaning.  You need God in order for your life to mean anything.  If I didn't have God in my life then my life wouldn't mean shit. You need a God for meaning.  God doesn't have a God, he's the only God.  His life doesn't meaning shit.  God's life has no meaning because in order for your life to have meaning you need a God.  He doesn't have one therefor God's life doesn't mean shit.  Why do you think he's so pissed off all the time?  Why do you think he challenges little kids with cancer and stuff.  Because his life is meaningless and he doesn't give a fuck.  The important thing to remember is that you need a God in your life to give your life meaning.

We also need God to tell us what's right and what's wrong.  He gave us commandments to let us know.  Could you imagine what life would be like if we didn't know right from wrong? Murder is wrong because God told us so.  If he didn't tell us we wouldn't know.  If God didn't tell me what was wrong I would probably be raping someone now.  I would think that was right because God would have never told me.  I might even be raping my friend David.  Well David would probably like it so that's not a good example.  I've known girls who have made sweet love to each other.  That's wrong.  God told me.  If I didn't have God in my life I would think that was beautiful.  It's not, and God is fucking pissed at those two bitches.  The bottom line is we need God.

Making kids cry

So apparently it's looked down upon if you play your hardest at a sports game when you're playing against 7 year olds.  One thing I've learned today is that kids cry pretty easy.  Another thing I've learned is that I can make a lot of kids cry in a short period of time.  I also have learned that I'm out of shape and I am prone to hyperventilating (This is also because I'm not messing around, I give 110%!).

If we're playing soccer I'm gonna get the ball.  I'm gonna run and I'm gonna charge!  If you don't like that get out of the way.  If it's too hot for you then get out of the soccer field kitchen.  One young man learned that as I stole the ball with a kick that I guess not only got the ball but hit the youngsters shin.  I took the ball all the way down the field for the score and as I tried to catch my breath on the walk back the kid was crying as his Mom ran out on the field to help him.

On the next play one of my team mates wanted me to pass the ball to him.  I told him to run ahead towards the goal.  He did and I kicked an awesome pass right to him. It whizzed pass our opponents and hit my teammate directly below the knees.  Instead of going for a goal my teammate immediately began complaining of a pain in his legs from too hard of a pass.  Come on kid, toughen up!

The final game of the day was dodge ball.  Dad's against the kids.  On hindsight this might not have been the best decision.  I ended up with a soccer ball the was pretty hard and I swear to God I was aiming for one of the kids legs.  Unfortunately in life what you want and what you get are two different things.  I'm sure what the birthday boy wanted was a fun game of dodge ball.  What he got was slammed in the face by me.  He began to cry.  This is when it dawned on me that maybe I should take myself out of the game.  I knew I couldn't play easier, I've got the winner gene in me.  I felt bad, but at the same time I had more fun than I've had in a long time.

Fades to night

Reading words and playing songs
skipping thirds and righting wrongs
days unkept and brainwaves flow
eyes have wept and pauses will go
stop to think is going from far
wet is the ink which fuels the car
mine is a life it's what I'm told
cuts like the knife that's new not old
sleep is the thought that makes us die
aging I've caught with the question why
longer are days when you are young
many are ways to enjoy the fun
older is near it's just in your head
a vanishing year building the dread
lose your age so easy to say
hard to gauge difficult to weigh
time is gone this is the light
life is drawn but fades to night

Boring bore boring

Stream of consciousness comedy act structure

I. divorce
 A. hookers
  1. tranny's
  2. massage parlors
 B. The kid
  1. sadness
   a.crying
   b. my fault
   c. mom is crying to me
II. God
 A. Church
  1. people judge a lot
   a. Don't make fun of the church
  2. if God made us who made God?
   a. my mind is exploding
  3. You need a God to give life meaning
   a. God's life has no meaning because he doesn't have a God
  4. God made the rule's right
   a. If God didn't say murder was wrong then it wouldn't be.
III. Mairage
 A.  silence
 B. Kids
  1. noise
IV.  friends
 A. jealousy
 B. loneliness
 C. laughter
 D. Dreams
 E. Music
  1. The band
   a. drugs
   b. drinking
   c. egos
   d. memories
   e. chicks
   f. stress
   g. collaboration
   h. blame
   i. back stabbing
   j. stages
   k. communication
   l. drives/road trips
   m. instruments


I don't know what the fuck I'm doing at this point.  My goal is to put together a 45 minute act of funny comedy.  A comedy act that I think is funny and so do audiences.

I'm at a confusing loss for inspiration. 

Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is anger funny?

Not right now you idiot!

Gold to cold

Tapped thoughts
empty lots
Grave bearings
A diet of herrings
late nights
lost rights
strange smells
locked cells
tapped fun
a loud gun
pierced pain
a fast drain
walking old
a wrinkled fold
stay clean
turn mean
try gold
get cold

Outside in

Get outside, you can't stay inside all day. You can't spend your life in the dark. Maybe I can. This is a ramble with no rhyme or reason or thought behind the words, this isn't too new for me. Nothing original about doing the minimal. How have I built such a life? I've almost just stumbled into some beautiful existence that some people search their whole lives for.

All I want to do is nap. I want to sleep it all away. I can't get enough of it. Even when I'm awake I'm dreaming. I'm fine with being by myself. I can go to the movies by myself. I can go to dinner alone and not give it a second thought. I've heard that 25% of the people are introverts.

I'm surrounded. I have moments of bliss, occasions of hilarity, and periods that are sublime. But I have years of numbness. I can check out. I can spend days inside.

Right now I'm outside in the sun but my mind stayed in the house.

Forever mind bend

It's happened again, I lost the map!
No sign of a friend, just take a nap.
Go to bed and sleep, get some rest.
There's nothing to keep, there's no best.
No worst or better or even some score
in the very last letter, you'll still want more.
From the mountain down into the valley
the tribe fountain holds close on the tally.
You hold that look, the one that speaks strong
a symbol from a book and a life that's long
lasting till forever, so hard for my mind

The mountain

I'm not thirsty for water. I have a thirst that won't stop. My mouth is dry. My mind is a desert. My life is a mirage. My thirst grows. My drinks make my thirst grow larger. The heat is too much. So much so I don't feel it. I want to swim. I dream to swim but I am drowning in hot sand. My speed slows me down. My love makes me hate. My laughter brings tears. This mountain is incredibly difficult.

The view is amazing when I can open my eyes.

Ego on cool

The not knowing kills
not withstanding the pills
I take in the form of need
my body lies only to feed
the thought is the best
better than what's real
there's never enough rest
and the pain I can't feel
help is nowhere near
there's only what's within
remove beyond the tear
and live yet again
travel towards the inside
it's where we truly hide
my source is on full
my ego on cool

Pee bottles

Do not read this if you don't like pee bottles.

I use to live in San Francisco, for college.  I lived in a room with tall ceilings.  I wanted more space so I built a loft.  I made sure that it was tall enough to walk underneath so you don't hit your head.  Then I made sure that I would be able to stand on my knees on the mattress above without my head hitting the ceiling while doing pelvic thrusts.  I didn't do many pelvic thrusts but I could do it if I wanted.

I used milk crates for my stairs up to the loft.  I got my milk crates for free.  There's a fine line between finding and stealing sometimes.  I found my milk crates in front of a store.  Anyways, milk crate stairs hurt your feet when you walk on them with no shoes, in the middle of the night, to go pee.  That's why I just peed in a big plastic bottle.  One thing I learned is that chicks don't really like pee bottles.  It's not like they say, "Oh that pee bottle is great, I've got a period bottle."

I don't know what the big deal is.  I put pine sol in it, for the smell.  Just don't touch your penis on it.  I mean my penis, my penis was the only one to touch the bottle.

The only chick who ever saw my pee bottle married me so I think I change my mind, chicks love pee bottles.

The good times

These are the good times.
Are you ready for the good times?
Here they are.

The rope swing scared me. I remember that swing from when I was 7. We went there today. It's like a jungle down that hill into the tree covered valley. How dis they get the rope on to that branch. Look at that other rope that broke. If that rope breaks in mid swing you've got to be 50 feet from the ground. That could really hurt a guy.

I went first. Cautious at first. But then I went from higher up on the hill. Then my 6 year old went for it. Scared at first too. Awesome. We didn't want to let the four year old do it. A proper parent wouldn't let a four year old do it. I'm not always proper. He went for it. "Just don't let go!" was the one rule I gave him. He went. His leg slipped and he was holding on to the rope with his hands. He held on like a champ and I grabbed him on his way back. He went a bunch of times after that.

These are the good times!

tired everything

I'm tired beyond tired.  Is that a level of tired?  I just nodded off writing this.  I'm waking up at 3 AM.  I'm staying up.  I'm drinking coffee and diet coke and green tea (for health reasons).

I'm sleeping as I type.  This is like sleep walking.  I'm now officially sleeping while I type.  I'll drag and scrape the castle walls.  I'm taking the princess to the dungeon.

That was from a dream I was having as I typed.

Eyelids are very heavy now.

Fading hard.  Can't wait for sleep.  The clean sheets seem so inviting.  So perfect.  I want to go experience the perfection that is my bedsheets right now.

The chairs are knocked over.  This is not an excuse.  Sign me the way to the door.  It's opening and I want to be there when it does.  Dozing hard right now. 

My posture stinks.

I think I have enough.

The guard

It blows my fuse
Asking all the questions of time
It's what I use
A mountain I can't climb
Where to begin
At first it seems so easy
The question when
Makes my stomach queasy

But then the nonsense
Hits me like a brick
An electric fence
A choice that won't stick



Forget it, try
living seems hard
Learn how to die
Leave the guard

It depends

I've seen the wheels down
Headed toward what's mine
To wear the constant frown
To live across the line
The birds that live in trees
The baby's egg has broke
The body's what he frees
The words will go unspoke
living towards a dream
That's all that it can be
Not what it may seem
Or even what we see
Channels in the space
To move and try to choose
Hell or heaven's place
Depending what we lose

Cussed out Mom

I just cussed out my mom.  You can go ahead and move my name to your "bad person" list of names now.  I am a bad person who says "fuck" to my mom.

She helps me too.  Every now and then she'll give us money and when we need help with baby sitting she will many times help out.  All this and still I say "fuck" in anger towards her?  After all she's done for me, and now I treat her like this?  WTF!

I have two boys.  Ages 4 and 6.  My mom is really worried that they aren't going to church.  They aren't hearing the word of Jesus, even more important, they aren't hearing the word of the preacher who thinks gays shouldn't get married.  More importantly than that, what do her church friends think of her if her grand kids don't show up on Sunday? What other people think is even more important than an eternity of hell fire.

I don't want my kids to go to church.  Church fucked me up.  I am worse off for going to church.  My thinking got screwed up from all the years of Sunday school.  It took me years to even attempt to make a dent towards the better regarding the damages of my thinking and well being.

The fucked up thing is I am willing to gamble with my kids future brains because I want some time by myself on Sunday.  I keep telling myself that I won't let them stay in church that long.  Not long enough to fuck them up.  I just want to relax on Sundays for a little. Later I will cut them off.  Letting my kids go to church with my mom is like a drug to me.  A drug that gives me peace and quiet for a few hours.  But it's also a drug that has consequences.

One thing that gets me really upset is when I drop off my kids with grandma and then pick them up later to find that she gave them haircuts.  Terrible nerdy haircuts.  It makes me so mad.  I told her over a half dozen times she is never, under any circumstance, to cut my kids hair.  She's completely ignored me.  About two months ago I spoke with her and said that it makes me extremely angry and upset when she cuts the boys hair.  She told me that she didn't realize that I felt that way (I fucking told her 6 times!) then she assured me she wouldn't do it again.

When I saw my youngest with his bangs chopped off today I was flooded with anger.  I picked up the phone and cussed my mom out.  She basically told me not to bring them around anymore.  I'm cut off.

Fuck.

If you tell someone directly and clearly that a certain action they are doing makes you very angry and they continue doing it I think you have to cut it off with that person, right? 

You can't get water from a stone.  God knows I've tried!

Rare find

The rose did die
we all agreed
a beautiful lie
a tiny seed
caught with smoke
we did greet
one big joke
the week we meet
love will last
inside my mind
the young go fast
but rarely find

I love dead rose