note to self

Keep quiet
Keep it to yourself
Don't push
Relax
Smile
Be Funny!

{That's all I had to do today. I got me marching orders last night, and told myself 'Neil, this is going to be a good week'. I was ready for what the day threw at me. So, did I do any of these things today? I tried to be funny...a couple of times...but everything else, I ended up doing the opposite.

Even though I knew better, its like the day was just too strong and dragged me down no matter what I tried. Left, right combos from the opening bell in Round 1.

'Hey guess what Neil, we didn't get much done today, so you'll have to pick up the slack tonight.' RIGHT

'Oh, and did you hear...the company is for sale. After all these months of the 'suits' telling us little people everything was going to be cool.' LEFT, LEFT, LEFT, LOW BLOW!

That didn't just take the wind out of my sails folks, it nearly sank the fucking boat. And I wasn't feeling great to start with...didn't get a good sleep...wasn't hungry in the 'morning'. After all the positive steps I've made the past 6-8 months at work...and how hard I've tried not to talk about it so as not to throw a hex on the whole situation...and now this.

On a Monday.

Its funny, the rule is when things are going good, you just know that tough times are right around the corner...and I'm getting so damn good at 'feeling' these things coming on, I could have sworn I KNEW that this was going to hit me...I've been in a real 'odd' mood the past few weeks, and I bet this is the reason!

This rollercoaster really is on the way down right now! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh well...whatever...I'll just hang on...maybe grip a little tighter this time...just in case...}

the light

I don't know if I could be
On top
With the light
Shining down on me
Its hard for me to see

Up alone
All exposed
All the warmth is so cold
Can you feel the light?
To see if its alright?

go with the flow

I try to fight it...but the waves are relentless.
And still I try?
Why?


the little specks are people ~ photo from some 60's surf mag

smells like Denmark

Something is not right at work. I came back from one of my all time great nights (thanks boys + girls) and, sure, I was carrying a bad hangover, so Saturday was on me...but since then, things have taken a strange and unsettling turn. I can't quite put my finger on it, but just bad vibes. Its almost as if I've walked into a bizzaro world. Up is now down. Then again, my 'vibes' have been all crossed up the past couple of years, so maybe things are fucking great and I should just roll with it.

Either way, I don't like it.

outside

photo from squareamerica.com

new bones

I wonder what I'm reaching for? I look around me and I don't see it. I don't see it anywhere. So instead I pull inward, and try to stop looking. But I've got to go outside. I see people everyday. I want to be one of them. I want to have friends. But I can't. I keep trying to tell myself that I don't think I'm better than anyone else (good reasons too)...but sometimes I act like I just don't give a shit...like I'm above it all. I know I'm not. It used to be for protection, to hide my genuine interest in people because I really did want to be like everyone else...tough on the outside, soft on the inside...but now its stuck.

Now I'm dead.

When everyone is telling me to 'get out there', then I try...and then they say you've got to pick yourself up when you fall, but when I do...

I'm doing this for a reason...this right here...I'm getting it out of my system for good, cause this is the last time I want to come back here with this shit. The shit, the skin, everything and the bones. I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired. I really have tried everything...but I'm going to try something else...something is going to stick to these bones.


Right out of the box

hands

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." ~ Andy Warhol


Self Portrait ~ Andy Warhol

burst

A dream
A cold heart dream
A waking moment never closed
Where almost is always

bandages

The Invisible Man

lucky 7

Jane Seberg

Not a lot of women can pull off the 'pixie' look and still look sexy, at least that's how I see it. In fact, I'm not usually a fan at all of short hair...some punk chicks can pull it off (I dated one once)...but its rare.

And then there's a young Jane Seberg. She pulls it off. Pretty well I might add. I read about her in some book a year or so ago. She was the muse for some French director, even though she was an American (if I remember correctly), who ended up making a couple of films with her. Some at the time thought she was poised to become a big star 'back home' in America but her growing fame combined with some wicked 'rumour' about her was her undoing, and she wilted and faded into history.

Still...I remembered how the director descibed how beautiful she was, and how she was going to be a big star...and then not...and since there were no photo's of her in the book, I was curious to see for myself what this young lady looked like.

Sure enough...

bark v. bite

No pain, no gain.

The last year or so has seen quite a few subtle changes...not only in my life, but in me as well. Not so drastic that its anything to applaud or get excited about…but nothing so insignificant that its not worth noting. Cause for me, it is worth nothing. I still may chomp down on my tongue and wedge my foot in my mouth far too often…but its getting better. I’m getting better.

Its just that its taking so long. However, I'm starting to realize that I probably have a lot more to do with that than I realize...and only I can fix it.

Maybe I do make mountains of molehills…and maybe I do worry too much. Maybe I do need to force myself to mingle.

Sometimes it takes a night of worry and insomnia to rinse away the dread...wipe the slate clean. Last night was ugly…as have been the past 72 hours…hell, the past couple of weeks have been pretty rough. But today was a good day...albeit forced, but nevertheless, I felt as if I was that much closer to wherever I’m going. I’m still a shaky mess…but I truly feel like I'm a work in progress…I am trying. I’ve always been hard on myself…just maybe not in the right areas. I've learned some hard lessons, but what doesn't kill you...

I can’t control the world. Shit happens. And it keeps happening.

Unfortunately, my heart still tries to find a way to help out…trying harder than it should to make things better. That probably won’t change. I can’t help myself with that.

oh, the guilt

It’s all coming together. Or falling apart…I’m not really sure. More mistakes. More problems. More sleepless nights. I can’t seem to outrun my problems, so I’m trying to face them head on…but that doesn’t seem to work either. No matter what I try, I always seem to choose wrong. Left should be right. Yes should be no. Honesty should be silence. My big heart and big mouth continue to get me in trouble…embarrassing me and those poor unfortunates in my crosshairs. I don’t know when to give up…either too early, or far too late. Never right on time.

My insides are a twisted dog, cold and damp, tired and weak. I don’t even want to eat, everything makes me nauseous. I can’t even curl up in a ball and make it go away anymore. Even that hurts too much. And yet, somehow, I still seem to be under the impression that I have a purpose. That someone out there can use me, even if I can't find a use for myself. What I know, what I do, who I am…what I am...that's for someone else to show me. I’m too everything to have it left up to me. I’ve got to tone it down to get to the bottom…but how do you turn down your heart? Slow it down with drugs and alcohol? Keep it busy by running and jumping around all day…never giving it a moments rest? An idle heart is a man’s downfall I say. My downfall.

And I’m fed up with the women I seem to be attracted to. The ones I (cough) fall (cough) for. Fall indeed. Flat on my face. Another fresh wound to add to the collection. Another knife plunged into my chest…by her AND me. Mostly me. They try and stop me…and they’re usually gentle…but in the end, spilt blood is still spilt blood. And I’m running dangerously low. This time the pain is less. I guess I'm getting good at it.

I’ve been told I need to stop being such a pushover. A wimp. I need to stop being such a ‘nice’ guy…and start swinging an elbow or two. I’m angry, but its all wrong. I need to spread it out a little more evenly…and not bottle it up, only to unleash in a rush of fire and venom. But I never feel better afterwards. Just guilty. Angry at myself. And the cycle starts all over again. Either I’m too nice…or a jerk. I need to find the middle. The one every other guy seems to reside in. It’s a big fucking middle…yet I swing from one side to the other…like some emotional Tarzan. I need to be a man is what they're all saying...even if they don't. I can be man...but I don't think I'll like me.

Because there IS something wrong with me. I AM different. I know we’re all different…but I’m DIFFERENT different. Where’s my tribe? Where are my people? Or am I a one off? A failed prototype…destined to live out his existence on the fringe? A ghost in the distance. A rumour. An island. A little bit ugly, my aura can fill a room...but its got edges and breaks easily.

I can connect. I do. And its not all fake. And that’s what makes me think that I have a shot. But then it all falls down again. And it starts to feel hollow and damp and cold. And I’m left trying to shake it off…shivering. Involuntary convulsions in angry chains. And it wears me out.

Now worn out, can I put it all back together again?