Yeah, I Don't Know About You Man...

...but, I've got to look myself in the mirror every night before I go to sleep.

I wonder to myself, "how many goddamn knives does he have?" It baffles me to no end. I can't possibly be more uneasy than I am at this very moment. It's that quiet feeling in the warm dark. The uncomfortable flush-warm feeling of evil as you can literally feel your blood moving through the pipes in your body. The dizzy nauseous feeling that settles in when your gag reflex triggers your stomach to vomit it's contents. He makes my fucking skin crawl. He fucking disgusts me.

Sometimes, when I look at him, his face morphs and shapes itself into a vermin-like specter. Something from the weasel family. He moves, no, he slinks around. His eyes have no color, just black marbles sunk back into his slender skull. Other times when I look at him, he glances away, like he's been staring at me for extended time. He studies me. He tells other people that "we're exactly alike." He creeps me out.

It's like he waits in the darkness, with a knife in his teeth...crouching...sweating with clammy skin, breathing heavily...probably touching himself...waiting for me to show my cards. With his pointed nose, and squinted eyes. An angular snout to poke into the tight uncomfortable, private spots of other people. The places you don't show anyone unless they are extended an invitation. He finds them anyways, with no invite. He only violates. He rapes trust.

Then he jumps out of the shadows and sinks a knife in my back. It's like I'm living a bad dream. I don't even like him...I never have. I don't know why it's understood that I do. I don't have the slightest fucking clue as to why there's any loyalty there at all. And her...she fell down the wrong rabbit hole. She can expect a twisted journey of ups and downs...talking through drugs and cheap sentiments. These moves are too calculated now. Every instance is a coincidence when it happens once.

It's strategy when it happens twice.

The Growlers - Feeling Good

Keep On Keepin' On

This band has been soundtracking my emotions for years. I love them as much, if not more, now than I ever have.

Delivery

One thing I've learned (and liked) about myself is that I don't sacrifice my dreams for security. This has presented some real and obvious challenges, and if anything is a certainty in this world, it's that nothing is guaranteed, but I don't see another way. At least, from where I sit.

Carver - Take Me Out

Wind In My Office

I used to dream of a farm.
Cattle by the mile; a tan on my arms.
The work would be biblical.
We are burdened by that great burden.
Somewhere, though, there is poetry,
In finding a task that we love.
You've got to be smart nowadays.
Strong of good mind.
Dexterous in thought and aptitude.
The city is troubling some times.
A wind blows through my office,
There's a computer in your eyes.

If...

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

- Rudyard Kipling

Teflon

That's right....

Your windshield (this morning) told you what the fuck I've been up to.
I made sure of that.
It was going to happen...I've had it planned for as long as I can remember.
A busy bee I've been.
I hope you looked at yourself in your rear-view mirror and caught your own glance.
I hope you got to see your own eyes.
Confused...
You used to write on my mirror.
In black marker.
Call me a cocky fuck if you want...
I learned from the best.
You always had a sword in your hand when you'd write your words...now I do.
It's easy to push the blade into a soft heart.
But your windshield told you what I am today.
Slides...oh yeah, it slides...I wish I would've seen your face.

You might wanna duck...
You're not going to like what you hear.
That's right.
In some circles, it's considered flattery.
I rarely have vindication in my quiver, but I was going to do that whether you asked for it or not.

This ship left the harbor a long time ago.
I can be that way too, when it's pulled out of me...
It feels good, doesn't it?