Get out

i am getting good at this

not my ability to write

but the ability to get this

stuff out

out of my head

out of my mind

out of my heart

out of my soul

it happens with less words now

better focus perhaps

able to pinpoint what im feeling

very new for me

extremely cool

playing the same music

to get my fingers moving

get my mind flowing

getting the words out

feelings

some i used to hate

others that i feared

what if people knew i felt

this or that

as i talk with others

i find im not so alone

in these feelings

or at least some variation of them

i have some good friendships that

have developed lately

they have shown me new things

about me, about people in general

about them specifically

i understand now what i have heard so much

hearing 'you are a good listener'

now means so much more

the people that have listened to me

those friends i cherish

i dont think they will ever know

how much they mean to me

and on how many levels

although now the shallowness i see in some

frustrates me even more

how can you be happy in superficial bullshit?

happy?

perhaps not happy, but safe

there is a measure of safety

in staying within your walls

peeking out every now and again

so people around you know your still there

but not enough for them to really see YOU

lately ive had people challenge my gates

some gently

others with more force

but causing me to do more than peek out

those gates now swing wide at their approach

dont get me wrong they still slam shut

when others get near

but for the few that i have grown to trust

they open easily

trust

now there is a topic

one that i am not prepared to go over tonight

but maybe a peek....

do people really trust me?

should they?

do i trust people?

should i?

sure i trust you

do i?

actions speak louder than words

that phrase

so true

you can say all day

friend, love ya, good to see you

and then shout PISS OFF

with nothing more than a look

or a reaction to a word

the act of

'blowing sunshine up ones ass'

why do people do that?

the truth hurts

yeah, sometimes

but come on without it where are we?

decived or deciving

happily delusional

ignorance is bliss

blah blah blah

if your having a bad day

tell some one

if your just happy to be alive

say something

if you hate the person

tell them....?

now we are venturing into tact

i will not walk up to someone

that frustrates me to the core

and let them know

if they ask....

they had better be prepared for truth

brutal truth

but at the same time

only to say what i really feel

not to hurt

.......

how did i end up here?

these ramblings sometimes grow

beyond where i intended

at which point they become what they are meant to be

my mental dump

better to do it here than try to sort out some

jacked up dream

and with that i will retire

perhaps to a less vicious dreamscape

if not....

i will be writing again

it has to get out

somehow

Clowns

cant sleep clowns will eat me...

everyone has their own clowns... what are yours?

those things that sit just beneth the surface

only rearing thier ugly fanged faces when your all alone

stalking you in your mind, causing that battle inside you

a war that only you can see, only you can fight

combat against the very thing that you have brought to life

that face... staring, leering, waiting to pounce

do you feed your clowns?

if they are there, then you feed them

they cannot live on thier own

they must be sustained

why do we feed the very thing that we fight with?

the easiest way to defeat an enemy is to starve it

why do we continue to feed the internal killing of us?

what drives us to do this?

can you kill the clowns that keep you awake all hours of the night?

of course, but do you want to?

of course, then why dont you?

is it a lack of desire? is a lack of will?

is it easier to co-exist with those deamons?

is there some kind of sick comfort in hanging on?

will there ever be a day when the war will end?

that, i believe, is up to you...

ultimately the winner of any conflict is the one that has the strongest desire to win

once one side decides there is no option but to be the victor

the other side has already lost and its just a matter of time

so, decide to win. choose to be the victor... is it that easy?

..........

time to sleep

let the clowns feast

im too tired to fight

too worn out to choose...

In the light of a full moon

ah, a full moon, so bright out tonight, alone in the light of the moon, hearing not much, the same crickets, the same AC compressor grinding to life every once in a while... in the distance a dog or two, i live just blocks from little mexico so what do i expect? ive been writing like this for a few days now, so liberating, to just dump the day, spill my soul into this digital ear... i am not a writer, come on how many dyslexic writers do you know? my delete and backspace buttons are wearing out i think, but this is so very relaxing, i sleep so well, not unhaunted but well, i wake up refreashed, what a feeling... today i spoke with a close friend, possibly my closest, we stirred up demons... spoke of our darksides, explored them unafraid, not without positive outcomes or solutions but our darksides none the less... i havent known anyone that has a really close grip on what hunts them, what drives them to hunt, as i do, until now... it is a rare thing to talk to someone openly, knowing they really know what your talking about, not just nodding thier head with professional empathy... that was me for years, sitting on the otherside of a table, in a locked psych facility, hearing other humans spill thier demons... ah, the darkness of a mans heart... who knows how terrifying that is? sit across from pure insanity, ask it to talk, then take notes... then the next day, go back and read those notes, and feel the icy chill run down your back as you realize this person just checked out AMA.... Against Medical Advice... and is out there somewhere... why do i not go to the movies and watch a psychotic thriller... that is why... most people only get exposed to the pit of psychosis on the big screen, very few get to look into its eyes... and know... know that in the depth of those cold eyes is insanity, and if not controlled by some medicinal means, has the potential to do things seen on many movie screens... but the difference being there are no special effects, the person is not insane to tell a good creepy story, the person is just insane... trapped in the shell of a body, peering out of the looking glass of thier eyes, seeing a reality that only they can see, hearing voices tell them to do things that sound unreal, but the voices dont stop, they continue until what is commanded is done... could you resist? could i? and for how long? i wrote once that everyone has their clowns, but what if you actually saw them, walking toward you, everywhere you ran, everywhere you hid? would you finally give in? do i pity them? yes. i have looked into the eyes a young man, healthy, attractive, intelligent, popular... then he blinked... and he was gone... his eyes empty, no longer capible of interacting with anyone around him, and for a few minutes after i could see horror in his eyes as his intelligent mind was telling his soul, you are going insane and there is nothing you can do about it... that poor boy drenched himself in fuel, and had an unexpecting friend accidentally light him on fire, he then ran down a hall burning to death and lept out a second story window... that is insane. i think he knew, and convinced himself that there was no cure, none besides death. was it true? could be. some medication taken everyday may have helped, but maybe not, and if it did, that one day he forgot that little pill....
i guess i could ramble on about psych stories, and perhaps i will write them all down someday, but not tonight, the moon is full, the night is beautiful, the temprature perfect, sitting in shorts and a tshirt at midnight outside? nice. i think ill just let my mind wander for a while before i call it a night, perhaps start another story, see where it leads...

Ringing

the transport station was unusually empty tonight. as i sit, wating for my shuttle, i was hoping

to do some people watching, but ive only seen a transient that shuffled past me mumbling something, then curling up across the way to sleep, there was a man in a suit standing a healthy distance way, as if to not contaminate himself with the likes of us, there was a man sitting just to my right reading a huge book, almost looked a baptist church bible, easily 5inches thick, across from me a woman sat digging through her bag, i caught her glancing at me a few times...to my right another woman walks towards my bench, there are others open, but she sits next to me, hi she says, how are you? i ask, just fine she says, and you? cant complain... she pulles out a cigarette, you have a light? i do, as i turn to dig in my backpack for it, i notice the bum on the bench is wide awake and very alert, watching me... wha...? i sit up and get my head stuffed into a black bag that cinches tight around my neck, dont fight a man says, it will be less painful... ouch! that was a needle...

where is that ringing coming from? my eyes burned, as if taken out of my head and left on a counter top to dry... my bones seemed cold, my muscles unresponsive, i remember the station, the bag, the needle, where am i? i try to say, the mind wills it but the body ignores, not a sound escapes my lips... lips? i touch my lips with my tounge... tounge? what is this? i must be numb, i cant really feel any part of my face, my eyes begin to see, bright lights, blurry faces, but i cant hear a thing over the ringing in my ears, cant they hear that? one face turns to me, i can see a hole in his face moving, he must be talking, another puts something over my face, i feel light, floating, the dark, nothing....

oh, man that ringing, i can see now, although i cant explain the odd dials and readouts that im seeing within my vision, perhaps im looking through some type of eye test machine... i try to move it away, but cant move my hands, they must be restrained to the table that im sitting on, at least im sitting up, i try to move my head, must be locked into the testing machine.. so where is the doctor? oh, there she is, i attempt to ask what happened, but no sound comes, i could swear i said it, but it is as if my vocal cords where removed... she notices that im looking around, and motions to someone behind me, he steps in front of me and looks into my eyes, he mouths something that i can hear due to the ringing, and her assistant applies a chemical to rag, and that rag comes to my face... i black out...

if i knew what money was and if i could get it, i would pay to have someone turn off that stupid ringing...

Advice

advice.

you got any?

yeah, right.

your not in my shoes

you have no frickin idea

what is in my head, and no

i wont share it with you, why

would i waste my breath?

do you really want to know?

what would you do with it once

you knew? hate me? fear me?

ah, my light is darker than your

deep, dark, dreams, the ones that

you have but no one hears of, ones

that you wake up from and fear to

fall back to sleep... and my dark....

the systematic disassembling

of my mind, the withering of my sanity

lust, love, hate, frustration, aaarrrrrgghhh!

this is too much for me to attempt to harness

so do i let it run wild? no that would destroy me

i cage it, i let it out for exercise every now and

again, this is one of those times, read not further

if you will not accept that i have faced my demons.

looked them in the eye and standing there, scared

shitless, i smile... you will not control me, fear you

may induce on occasion but you will not win ultimately

so in accepting this about me read on. i see my self as

so very dark... the part of me that people see on a daily

basis is not me. it is the society induced me. the real

me looks with disgust on most people, seeing them as

fake, hurtful, sharp, painful, open myself to you?

get real. ok sure, i can talk to anyone... anywhere.

i can psycho-analyze most people in minutes, not their core

but how the space they take up will affect mine...

there has been the painful occasion where i have opened

my self to people. ah, let the torture insue... give a part of

your heart, and they will drag you behind a vehicle called

selfishness by your arteries... and as i bounce there, watching

as i am ground down to a pitful helpless emotional lump, i think

why? why did i give them anything? did they need me? was i

thinking that i would help them in someway? was i as selfish?

or are people just naturally pricks?

that was a long time ago, those hurts, but pain creates scars,

callouses, memories....

memories that spark to life like the first flame of a forest fire...

burning pain that hides in the dark of our mind... of our hearts

of our souls... some of us have pain that we cannot express...

for fear of others reactions, fear of what it might mean about us,

fear of seeing who we really are, fear of trying to remember, but

haveing no recollection... that is me... there was a time my mom

tells me, when i was a very happy kid, very happy... then...

somewhere near 5 or 6 i changed... got real quiet, very not happy,

very reclusive, kept to myself, i became that weird kid over there...

and so i stayed, attempting, at times painfully, to join the ranks of

the normal kids... small schools, christian schools, thats a hole other

ramble, not many kids to choose from for friends, when you have none

where do you turn? to yourself. he spends alot of time alone... is that

good for him? he doesnt seem to have many friends, perhaps if he didnt

spend so much time alone...

why did i change? all those years ago? i dont know, i search my mind

lost in the forest of fear, but finding nothing, there is a face that i hate.

hate is a strong word? i saw that face not too long ago, my cousins

wedding in fact... i picked up a fork and was heading across the room

to put it in his throat, and my dad asked how i was likeing the reception...

i asked him, who is that, oh, steve? he asks, yes i said, he and his wife

used to babysit you some times, when you were about 5 or 6............

advice.

you got some?

keep it to yourself, i dont want any of it

i asked for some recently, boy that was fun. did it solve anything?

what do you think? do i sound like a relieved and rested person?

if i do, we should sit and talk sometime, i could psycho-analyze you....

the pain of my past haunts me, but it is not my crutch, or my "reason"

for acting how i act, or being who i am

i am who i am. that will change, as time goes by. im 32. i have changed

since i was 22, alot. for the better, who knows, who cares? the people who

have seen me change know, and some care, some i wonder, others i hope not

ah, 22 almost engaged... what a nightmare that would have been, joined the military

instead, much easier by comparison, ha!

advice.

you got some?

i recieved some good advice from my grandpa before joining the millitary

ive been married for 50 or so years... dont try to figure out women, just

find one that will marry you... i still havent figured out your grandma...

advice

you got some?

lets hear it... what is it based on?

life? how much of life have you lived?

how much of it has lived you....?

advice

ive got some

dump the crap out of your mind before you sleep...

or it will be dumped on you while you sleep...

The Pit

i stand alone here in the wasteland of my mind

the darkness comes

slow at first

swirling like black ink poured into crystal clear water

it envelops me

surrounds me

pulls me into itself

into oblivion

im falling now

to where i do not know

but if i hit the bottom of this pit at this speed...

i feel the horrible chill of death slide down my spine

then i stop

suspended in this shadow

this lightless void

i hang there

waiting

an eternity passes

then i hear it

barely audible

but its there

below me

then i see it, darker then the pitch black that i am floating in

but with eyes burning with an unnatural blue flame

claws reach for me with blinding speed

but as they reach my naked skin they stop...

wait...

not stopping,

just moving slower than my eye can detect

but feel the movement i can

as they slowly pierce my skin one cellular layer at a time

moving at a less then i millionth of a snails pace

yet every micron they move i feel

the burning unexplicable pain caused by a dull razor being pushed into the depths of me

into my soul

rending it

shredding it

liquifying it

then it lets me go

and im falling again

an empty shell

a lifeless uncontrolled mass

i see the cavern floor far below

it rushes at me with incredible speed

and just before i shatter into a billion tiny shards of myself

i awake...

Plenty of sleep when I'm dead. Part 1

wandering through the landscape of my mind

i feel lost here

ideas abound

creative concepts float

yet i am alone

yearn for company

so alone

the music playing offers no comfort tonight

the silence around me is deafening

struck with a thought that hurts

a few actually

then some more

i clear my landscape

try to start over

they return

i run

being stalked by these painful thougts

they track me like wolves

surrounding me

backing me into a corner

i am made to face them

............

the maze of my mind

filled with darkness

depressing lack of light

haunted by bad choices

paranoid of the concequences

ones i pay for now....

some yet to come

...............

my creative mind

you want it?

im weary of it

"you have a great imagination"

ill trade it in for a boring one

especially tonight

..........

earlier surrounded by friends

now...

here i sit alone in the dark

slapping away at this keyboard

wishing i could drain the pain of

an almost forgotten hate...

creeps

grows

that face

those feelings

clawing their way into my mind

so easy to give in

get pissed off

that is where i am comfortable

"when empty, dispose of me properly"

we joke about it at lunch

a friend and i

..............

Alone in the dark

sittin alone, in the dark.

nothin in my mind but

confusion and dissappointment

in me, in them, in her, in him

hate? no, too strong

love? no, too weak

concern? perhaps although still no

confusion? no, too easy

frustration? no, to complex

lost? maybe... lost in the darkness

that is my mind, a maze of honesty and lies,

stories and deep from the gut creativity, dreamlands

that call to me while i am awake, places that exist

only in the depths of my soul, places that captivate

the listeners of the tales i weave, places that i visit

in my dreams, my nightmares, my mind that dark

labrinth of hate, love, lust, concern, confusion,

frustration, light fighting dark fighting the endless grey

area inbetween.... all the forests of ja'dea's book, the

cold depth of space that is i am cold, the endless possibilities

of terra transporter, the insanity of the bonding, the

dilusion of thirteen, the dark oddities of exxes, the unexplainable

hell of my nightmares, the things that reach out to me from the

dark shadows after waking from them, or am i really awake?

the spark of desire, the fire of lust, the burnt out charred remains...

sittin alone, in the dark spilling my guts to a digital ear, one that

only listens, never doubts, never whines, never shatters, never turning

away, just listens, lets me spill the insides of my inner self...

this digital thing, this one way pipe of feeling...

i feel alone, but not by myself, the ringing of wind chimes, the

AC compressor grinding to life, the wind, the distant traffic, barely

audible.... my breathing... the slapping of the keys on this keyboard,

sittin alone in the dark, wanting things i cannot have, not fully appreciating

those things i do have, letting my mind wander to new places, new stories

new memories, new nightmares, old thoughts, new hates,

older darkness, familiar deamons... not a writter i say to me, not a writter

i say to others, not a writter even now, but i am writting something, am i

not? is this "writting" ? is it psycho-babble? will this make any sense

tomorrow, maybe not, but is that the point? no. what is the point?

lost. in my thoughts of the day, in the touch of a friend, in the concern

of a wife, the love of a son, the depth of some, the shallowness of others,

the questions of theology, the answers of honesty, the reaction of a young

girl missed, the action of a fool, the taste of free ice cream, the fun of driving,

the relief of a job completed, the kindness of a stranger, the foul stench of

someone known...

bitterness, hypocracy, church, people, fighting the desire to want to hide in

a box, and staple the lid shut...

sittin alone in the dark, nothing in my mind but confusion...