How long do you normally stay angry at someone?
Hypocritical Me, Hypocritical You. Hypocritical them over there… and definitely that one right there.
Who is not hypocritical at least once a day in some fashion.
I am amused each time someone calls me this.
Hypocritical? Yes, of course. I am human. Who is not?
Beep, beep made in China robot. Me spam you.
Beep, beep professional journalist with team of editors. (You can’t write that because of the May 15, 2001 post Bob).
Beep, beep the person that cares.
I don’t care if it happens because that is life. You believe one thing one day and something totally different the next. You hate whiners and yet you win a gold medal in whining each year at the Whine Olympics. It is what we do as people. So yea… calling me a hypocrite… ok. I am one. Got a new one?
Would I shoot the sun if I knew it would doom the world? Could such a drastic decision be made by this hand?
I close my eyes and raise the hand that holds death. My grip is sure as I caress the trigger with my need for action. The speeding bullet from the chamber is sent with my best wishes. I hope that it will matter in the end.
Do we ignore the moment in fear of offending the easily offended? Or do we live the day for ourselves and allow the world that same courtesy.
I really like Eminem’s music video “When I’m gone.” It reflects my current struggles with social media, this blog, and the balance of conflict with my home life. I understand Eminem’s words when talks of his struggle with trying to succeed for his family and what that personal sacrifice sometimes brings. Perhaps finding that “median” is a continuous battle.
Who makes the best hamburger?
Hamburgers might be the food I die while eating. -OM
Christ is Risen!
How many hours do you spend blogging a day? A week?
What am I drinking this morning? A morning cup of what? It is not whisky to slay the dreams or coffee to wake the churning mind. It is not a Bloody Mary to heal an evening of carousing, though carousing was surely done. It could be a cup of orange juice to greet the morning sun, though I do not care for the acidic nature of OJ. I stand before the fridge and ponder the consequences of such a simple decision. I glance out the window and feel nothing special. I pour a glass of water.
He walks around with one eye closed. He shuts out half the light of the world, and in turn embraces half the darkness. A balance is found and within that peace he is allowed to live his life.
His open eye sees the smiles and welcoming gestures from those around him. The closed eye witnesses the sneers, snickers, and the gossip that flows from his path like water in the wake of a boat. Half a cup of contentment is the serving for the day to battle the distractions of the world.
His body bears marks and bruises left from unfortunate steps in the wrong direction. It is the price that is paid when you walk around half blind. Better to bear wounds of the body than to suffer assaults of the mind. With this knowledge in hand he eagerly walks forward. His heart holds its breath as the man closes both eyes and embraces fate.
I couldn’t resist. Are you bossy?
If you had a growing audience at what point would you censor yourself and start watching what you say and post? Be honest. If you had 15,000 readers? 50,000 readers? 500,000? Any number is a possibility and these days there are real dangers to having a free tongue or writing finger. What would you do?
It is early in my 2001 school year. My plans of alcoholism have not gone well, mainly because I broke out with the worst case of acne in human history. I hadn’t had much dealings with these small boils from hell, but in the end they were a blessing and a curse. They were a blessing because they turned me into a reclusive monk that had no desire to see other people. I was thus not engaging in your normal first year of college sins. Oh sure, I drank beers and hit the bong, but I wasn’t out leading a fraternity into the next era of white collar supremacy or scoring the winning touch down. I was leader of ten alliances in Utopia and won multiple Starcraft tournaments… can I put that on a resume?
My search did not go well the second year. Yes it was inevitable to search for them. I had their names and a picture of my sister, that was it. I found out from the agency, after they got my sister’s record out, that my birth mother had given us both up for adoption. She had changed her mind a few days later and come back and gotten my sister because she was older, and probably easier to care for. It makes sense, I have a basic understanding of how survival works; I have the Discovery channel and I watch it religiously.
If I could change the stars and alter your reality. Would I do it for selfish purposes or the betterment of the world? To be a voice unto oneself is one thing, but to possibly alter the course of another ship is a big responsibility. Do we that freely speak accept such a burden? Or with maniacal expression do we boldly strive on… careless. A whisper in the wind is innocent enough until caught. Who would dare throw such fire in the wind, of listless peddlers selling sundries. I would for the fun of it.
Have you ever been guilty of “regifting” and did you feel bad about it?
Would you want a giant monument devoted to Satan in your state capital? Regardless of what country you are from?
This isn’t for you. This is for me.
[free thought unedited]
And there you sit bleeding diamonds everyday. Standing upon a stage of glass, you sit there and wait for the inevitable stone throw that will come… that has to come. What will hold you up then? When rain comes and obligated words do not help shield from the thunder. Instead you find yourself alone. No, perhaps not alone… not totally. But indeed like a falling general that has not realized he has fallen, we sit back and wait with our vanguard for the aid that has not come. It is not coming. What will you have then OM? A few clicks of a keyboard and a table full of empty strangers. Will it be enough to know that perhaps a deed has been done, when no deed was really intended. Funny are they that paint white what they do not know. Do we laud a shadow for being in the form that we want, that we need at the time. We create gods of a moment, am I creating one for a year? And in doing so when will come the day that I roll over and realize it was all for naught? As I eat my cheap noodles and count seconds on the clock till freedom? What a pathetic example of success you are sitting there with a chain around your neck. It makes a man want to drink, if only that man didn’t get off work at an ungodly hour when god’s drink is no longer sold. Curse you Colorado while I am at it for not selling beer till 3 am, what kind of God fearing man doesn’t drink beer at 3 am? That is when we see God isn’t it? Or is that the haze off my window because it just snowed. How does it snow when I was just wearing short sleeves today? Dammit, well now I am mad. I am mad, I am tired, I am bleeding diamonds, and well I think I should just pump the brakes on this one cause it is about to get nasty.
I brush remnants of sleep from my eyes as I walk neither awake nor technically asleep to the bathroom. I brush and shave in a daze… until two beautiful voices call my name repeatedly… like an alarm clock. I do not know whether to groan or smile, the struggle culminates into the normal grimace of life. It is early.
Sleep walks away with a glance over her shoulder. She wears a shimmering gown of splendid want. For a second we connect and the yearning for that touch again has not yet been fully realized before my heart realizes the Want. Thirsts for the Want, even as Reality’s hand takes my own and jerks me down the road of the day.
It drips with melted scorn, this steel of resolve. Flash nor glamour is needed within these hallowed halls of wanted righteousness. Is it that we seek some light, nay… we simply see from the dark. And everything is much brighter with the coming day, when waking from nightmares of the night. I flash my steel in their general direction and blackness encompasses my flimsy attempt. Dare they that wish upon a star, only to see it fall to earth and in turn grant another’s wish. We see irony in the attempts of man to be like Gods. And humor in their downfall.
I have been drinking a little.
Working my ass off. The guy says I smell blood in the water, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t realize what so many also don’t realize. They think they know aspiration. What is aspiration to you? A check mark, a goal, another level… please, I stand at the shore of aspiration. She is a big ass fucking ocean and she is fierce. She challenges me, makes me want more… I want it all. Not a little, not a bit, not some… I want the whole fucking thing. Is it so wrong? Call me egotistical, maniacal sure… give me a fiddle, where is the nearest fucking wall and match. I feel it. I see it clearly now.
She looks at me and asks “what do you see?” I see my dream. Everyone has one good idea their whole life, I have found mine. My chips are in, I am all in. Come WordPress close down my website, shut me down. Do as they tell me by email you will, with your thunder and moderation. I will conform and go private, because I have it already. What I need. It is a stagnant ocean full of fish and it is here. Not there, over there… I hate over there. Soon there will be no more over there, there will only be “where do you wish to go dear?” And we shall go. Like the wind… the wind that has been trapped for so long.
Already the tickets may have been punched. Change on the rise? What life is not without it? At least one worth living. And so we always search for that next page. That next drop of ink or paint. Whatever it may be, we capture moments. Like the photo I took of that home on that hill. It isn’t a dream, I don’t do dreams. I do reality. I will own that hill. Fuck it… I’ll build a bigger one.
What is your favorite movie and why?