Life

I don’t know if they’ll bury me in a box, shroud or burn me. Given my

Given my druthers there will be no burning and if they should do that, well you better dump my ashes somewhere because if you don’t I will find a way back.

It is like the old saying, if you try to kill me you better get it done because if you don’t I am going to come after you and hell is coming with me.

It has been far too long since I updated here but when you have five blogs it is hard to keep them all going and I have fallen short here.

Been pretty good at one of the others, that gets new content 5-6 times a week.

Anyhoo, I am here now and we’ll do our best to hold your attention for a few.

Blogging The Mystery

Chuck and I haven’t ever spoken but I think he’d appreciate what I am doing now because fear and I have become intimate companions.

You don’t need to know all of the details or hear precisely how and why to appreciate my saying I am wrestling with some stuff now.

They are the demons and monsters that we call uncertainty and his/her/its friends.

The beasts that come out when you know you have done your damnedest to make some things happen and aren’t sure if it will measure up in the way you want/hope it to.

So I am here, blogging the mystery and telling you and reminding me that I have busted my butt to do it right.

I have done all I am capable of doing to make certain things go a certain way and now I have to hope it is enough.

And that is really hard for me and really sort of scary.

It might not be.

This might not work and I hate that.

But then again, it might.

It might be better than I expect and the anticipation might be the worst part.

I won’t know until I know and that is what troubles me.

It is like taking a test and waiting for your grades. You think you did ok but you aren’t sure and can’t know until the paper is handed back to you.

Guess I better sign off and get cracking again because I intend to win that damn prize.

See you in the comments.

Sometimes you find yourself in the odd position of not talking to someone you have spent a lot of time talking to and with.

The funny thing about it is that sometimes the lack of talk gives you a hell of a lot of time to communicate in all sorts of other ways.

So while you pretend not to talk or see each other you know that someone is working very hard to pay attention to you while they ignore you.

It is kind of exhausting but since I am guilty of it too I can’t really point my finger.

I always liked that one but I am partial to some others too.

I figure there is some truth to that one and to:

Can’t forget this one either:

Of course aching window panes and doors aren’t always so comfortable. Sometimes you have to do things a little bit differently.

When you close your eyes you have to recognize who and what you see looking back at you.

Sometimes it is as simple as saying when you think of me I am thinking of you.

And sometimes it is not that simple.

So you say fuck it and do what you need to do, whatever the hell that means.

Scratch that, it means if you call yourself an artist you can act crazy and tortured because it helps with your art.

That is why I love heartbreak, taught me a lot about writing and communicating.

Or pretending not to. 🙂

That one hand holding the rope isn’t really mine, but it could be.

Not just because some people say I have a grip a gorilla would be jealous of but because I haven’t got a choice.

I either hold on and do my best not to let my arm be torn off at the shoulder or lie down and cry.

That is what happens when you make big changes and the universe tests you.

It is what happens when you get caught between a hurricane and a tornado and can’t run for shelter.

You hold on.

Can’t Start Over

Can’t start over and can’t yell at those who disappoint me.

Can’t go back, can only go forwards.

Can’t ignore my anger and frustration. Can acknowledge it and try to let it run its course without letting it run me.

Would like to let go and scream, storm and stomp around but can’t do it.

One minute, one hour, one day at a time.

There is a port to be found.

I don’t know that I have 99 problems but I might have 72 and about a third are probably serious enough to warrant attention.

Out of that third there is a smaller number that require immediate attention but we are not here to do higher math so I won’t tell you how many that works out to be.

I’ll just way the bigger ones are big enough to be troublesome, irksome and worrisome, as in they have affected my sleep a bit.

And maybe my hair, but that is sort of questionable.

Is It Time To Panic?

I am not really the kind of man who does so, but there is a general feeling that now might be the time to do so.

Or maybe get lost in things like No One Blogs About Blow Jobs and Maybe We’ll Find Each Other One Day.

Really the reason for this post is because it helps to clear my head and clarity is of paramount importance.

That is ‘cuz that old bastard Frankie Fear is hanging around and his voice carries a little more weight now than normally.

But being a shoot from the hip and swing for the fences kind of guy I am going to do my best to be the hero in my own story.

No one else is going to rescue me, might as well be the guy who does it.

Would be nice to have a sidekick or an Alfred to get some help from.

Ultimately things will work out because I make them work, but damn sometimes it isn’t easy.