2014

There's a little hope in me. Hope that the dead find life in another realm. That a failed lover here finds his other in another place. That a dead sister finds peace and a healthy heart in another place. That an imprisoned muse finds a way to break free from the water.

The tangles are complex and maybe only voyeurs in another world can see them.

Not for me. Just hope. Hope is enough, though. Today at least.

But if I could reach across to you who hear these... prayers?

I would. Can you reach across to me?

B.

SHE

She was a bookworm and conspiracy theorist. She wasn't the cool one, but she was the best one.

One of the last times I talked to her, she was heading to some book-signing. I screen-capped her while we were chatting so I could tease her with it later.

There was no later.

Bright spot.

Meeting up with some old friends tonight in Foxboro. Should be a passably good time, but the drive home sounds like it might be a little treacherous.

The Waiting Room

Was a weird fuckin' place to come around.

Bullets look like lipstick.

Maybe I should kiss one.

thois blood. my blood.

id like to say it's on your hands but sinse you only spectate I guess I can't do that  can I ?

still I'm pretty sure its time to check out the other side. see what all the fuss is abotu.

once this bottle's empty I'll furge out a way to punch the cards.

Wmo't be long ron/

Used to be an icon.

Then she happened.

Absolutely no human I know worked harder, or longer than her. And she was beautiful, even at her grubbiest moment.

Maybe I can find her again at the bluffs tonight. What's stopping me?

Photo time.

I guess it's time to face this shit. Without being shit faced. HA! Het it?

Time to climb these mountains and see what's on the other side.

I wonder who this girl is?

And I gave my heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increases knowledge increases sorrow.

Went people watching at my favorite pub this afternoon: The Tavern at the End of the   World

I drank a lot - of coffee - and wore some too, thanks to a waitress who was a messy   stirrer.

It's a great place to eavesdrop and the coffee is   free

Today the old folks seemed to be holding some sort of meeting about neighbourhood dogs not being spayed - The Bitch   Forums.

Not too interesting, but when you're looking for a story, you have to cast a wide   net

Managed to dodge the poison again today. It's so sneaky with those whispers of oh what the hell, it's just one for the road.

No sir, he doesn't like eet.

Ok, that's not entirely true. He DOES like eet. But he's not having eet. Not today, anyway.

I'm feeling Alice here. It's not about women. Never was.

House hunting.

Well hello again. I'd nearly forgotten there was a sane excuse for talking to myself.

I'm looking for a house. I think so anyway. Sitting here, by a candle, looking for somewhere to start again. All signs point to going home.

But I don't want to.

I don't think.

Also, I'm feeling a little leaky-eyed. Fuck.

This is a whole lot of alone.

I've got women on my mind, too.

One I lost and and one I don't recognize.

I assume this is staged or something. Someone emailed it to me on an account I thought was defunct.

Brain salad, right?

Today is a shit pie.

Dear... me.

Today is a shit pie. Sure it's pie, but... it's also shit. Not really win-win, right?

Bombs in Baghdad

Today there are several families that are ruined because of violence in Baghdad. It's news and it should be.

The sad thing is our apathy in this country. We hear it on the news all the time - in fact tragedy sells newspapers and commercials - but our hearts are hard to it. We just whisper a prayer under our breath that it won't ever get too close to home. We know that it will.

Everyone one of us is a terrorist in that we fight for our own freedom and often ignore the cost to others. We tax the environment, we ridicule others behind their backs, we shop and shop with no concern over the future.

There are those believe the summit in Copenhagen is the coming of a new world order. It would be tough to ignore if the doomsday people hadn't been thumping every drum that's come rolling down the hill for the last thousand or so years. Listen to the hype and you will feel at least a twinge of fear.

Maybe we feel better if we ignore the idea of things like FEMA death camps or unusually long-lasting contrails. Surely these things are bogey-man stories the likes of which our grandparents heard as children?

Maybe it makes no difference. Man is corrupt the moment he finds power, and how he finds power in this world is through money. Money and power are at the root of the world's evils. Take 5 minutes to speak to a homeless person and ask them what happened.

Every person who walks this earth is going to die. In 100 years no-one who reads today's news in 2009 will be alive. With that in mind, how can we live differently?

I don't believe it takes a spiritual awakening of any kind to make the most of life. Maybe it wouldn't hurt, I don't know, but what I know is we are all people in a common struggle to understand "why." One man asks "why am I here?" while another asks "why must I watch my children starve to death?"

We can all enact kindness and affect the life of someone else. Maybe this time of year reminds us of that. So while world governments try to save the world (or maybe take it captive), what can I, as one man, do?

Look at the disparity between our good fortune and the ills that have befallen those around us and see about evening things out, perhaps?

The news will tell us today was especially bad. Don't let that sentiment add to the callousness of our hearts.

Would you kill to save a life?

Would you kill to prove you're right?

Hanging with my boys tonight, gonna drink away some ghosts.

B

From the right angle, you can still see them.

The city has a heavy heart today. It's not about a capitalist edifice being downed. Not at all. It's about the evil that lives in the hearts of men.

Today I'll drink a toast to lost friends and keep to myself.

Today Arkham will go see his mother, who used to have two sons.

Today Jagt will attend the memorial, opting for flowers instead of a camera.

Ronnie is working away on legal stuff, but I know she feels the sting too. It may not be her country, but human sadness is always tangible. Especially to a soul like hers.

And today, sadness hangs thick over the city.

To humanity: there may be no hope for us, but let's fight until the end.

Making Some Thinkspace for Truth

Well, this blogging thing is interesting, isn't it? Some electronic form of talking to myself. Therapeutic or warranting therapy?

Fact: I make films because I like to record the truth as I see it.
Fact: I do not invent the truth.
Fact: I can only perceive truth as it presents itself. When the world seemed flat, it was.
Hypothesis: Someday the demons of this city, of every place on this big ball of trash, will have some answers for me.

Trauma Makes Monsters. The monsters are never happy to be exposed, but fuck 'em.

Today

I'm the only one at work today and what should I find tacked to the back door?

A death threat.

"You made my life shit and now you die. Rot in Hell."

No signature? That's not very nice...

knee deep in emotional sewage

Blame it on the moon. My dad left when I was kid. I forget how old and I doubt it matters. I told everyone the city gobbled him up. No-one believes me, but as far as I know, no-one ever saw him again.

Anyway, an only child with just a mom turns into a weapon. As empirical evidence with hands and feet and eyes and ears, I'm telling you a kid without both parents ends up unbalanced. A kid who sees that his city has teeth can't even find a balance.

My mom did what she could and we made things go along ok. This I know: I owe her a lot, even if I've sometimes despised her. When the day comes that I make a mark that gets me marks, I'm buying her a house befitting all that was taken from her by my father and me, her personal anchor.

Hey, that's pretty good for a guy looking up from the bottom of this bottle.

I guess that's enough nostalgia for now. The next chapter's worth hanging around for, buddy. It's all about death taking a face and making a point. I've still got the ring, but I see a dark hood in it's reflection sometimes.

Time to get shitfaced and watch cartoons.

Conclusion.

Well, I guess waiting is an option. "It'll all come out in the wash." You, dear reader, must know that I will wait forever for your analysis.

Life has a way of distracting you from living it.