Helter Skelter Seconds Ticking

I hate to think of myself as being depressed. I hate to think of myself as closed in. But I cannot deny that this is how I sometimes feel.

As I write, my thoughts turn to confusion. Not knowing. Not feeling clear.

We are all endowed with time. We have 86,400 seconds in each day (although I sleep 28,800 seconds every night without regrets). That leaves 58,000 seconds left over.

What am I supposed to do with my time? That is a question that I am sure a lot of other people would have as well. Unfortunately, I often fail to allocate time to the most important things.

I believe that several things are critical to bringing me into feelings of equilibrium, harmony, and happiness. (1) Focus my attention on some sort of vision or purpose for my life. (2) Take time for regular meditation. (3) Definitely put first things first — this means that I must take regular time to plan/schedule the most important activities for my life.

The last thing I would say (and I will leave with a question…) is… how do I know what is causing the problems in my life? There have been times in my life where I have felt really on track and now I am at a point in my life where I feel helter skelter. Does anyone have a technique to create personal awareness of the changes in ones life and how past personal actions affect their present life?

I’m Second guessing.

I’m Not flowing. Self-loathing.

Sit down. Meditate.


Batman on Beneath the Shadow of a Toilet

Annoyed. Not again. I want to spill my soul and tell something truly intimate. But prudence causes me to hold my tongue. No reason to tell the whole world.

I think some of the things I have done are too funny and need to be shared. But I am still worried about ruining my family life. I still do things that would make my wife throw a fit. Why not?

What is my identity as a person. Better yet, should I really worry much about my identity. Probably not. Where does that leave me? It leaves me awake and unable to sleep.

I originally wrote this post on October 1, 2015, but I never published it. It is as true today as it was then and I think the title is funny.

LGBTS Community

I was going out for drinks with some friends and I was asking him about the LGBT community. He told me that it is an open community and anyone can take part in it (although I am not gay, so I couldn’t see how I could participate). It came to me that there should be an LGBTS community (I checked and there is a group on Facebook, but it is only open to people under 25 years of age, so I am not very inspired by it).

Actually, I respect the need for community, but I think the human community is going to suffer as long as people keep dividing themselves into smaller and smaller groups based on race, gender, sexual orientation, age, etc.

So this is me officially forming the LGBTS community. It is open to anyone of any sexual orientation provided that they are a kind and respectful person (but willing to accept the flaws and quirks that come with living in a diverse human nation). Perks for joining… silliness, sharing, inspiration, fun, gayness, straightness, harmony. (I haven’t actually created this group in any way, shape, or form). Haha.


This is a follow-up to my previous post. I guess the only thing I can say is that if I feel like I can take care of myself, then it naturally follows that I should take care of others. You may ask why..?

I remember unpleasant feelings.

When I was feeling unpleasant, I hoped for a savior.

An encouraging word or smile is always helpful.

If I am strong, I can smile.

If I can smile, I can allow my smile to be seen by others (even though I may feel shy).

When others see my smile, they may feel hope.

Their hope may bring them courage and strength to carry on.

They may gain the strength to help others.

I can’t explain it any better. Basically, I am thinking that when I am sad, I hope for a savior. When I am sad, I am thinking too much about myself. So I guess I should be the savior for someone else and stop thinking so much.

Anything done with a bit of hope for personal gain will feel dirty (because of the baggage). I don’t know how to escape this feeling of dirtiness. Sorry. 🙂

I Start with a Poem – and End with Fuckdoll

The struggle indefinite of passion

The feeling piercing of sunlight,

on a misty foggy day.

Godforsaken of the culmination.

Of a ball caught from the toss of a golden hand.

Blissfully demonized until dripping…love’s magnetic aroma. (fishy cum ha ha)

The start of a poem is like the first glimpse from the chamber of the 9mm pistol blasting with suicidal intent. The bullet divergent from the grace of God – The all mighty. The impermeable. The thick skin that flakes off in tiny pieces. A piece of jacketed lead…

I saw the lust of the baker looking for golden crust and moist interior. So pale.

I saw the fervor of the ballman waiting at the corner of the diamond for the empty easy escape.

I witnessed the embodiment of salves to embroider the ointment of the cum of man.

The harassment of the endarkened soul. The quest for freedom!

Where previously I embodied poetry, I now embody Tyler’s gift. The gift of ethanol. The gift of slow sweet hot anal sex. It sickens me in 480p.

The cock never invades a sphincter but chases mouths. And various types of cavities.

And in the end Jason is the drum. Tyler is divine. And music surrounds me. You have not seen heaven.

I wish I could talk normally and in a straightforward fashion. But I can’t.

(ig)Noble Assassin

I keep writing. It has been about one year since I wrote a rather emotional blog. I actually hate reading that blog. Have you ever felt like you hated the person you once were? Have you ever felt like you hate the person you have become? I can empathize with those feelings. I don’t hate myself, but I hate the situation I have let myself into and I hate that I have made mistakes.

I feel marginalized at work. Part of this is real and part of that is probably my own cognitive distortion.

One year has passed and I still feel like I miss some people way too much (my cousin Westin, my friends Sven and Matt, my sisters, and of course my late parents).

Where I once felt noble, now I feel like an assassin with crunchy snow on his jacket and shoes. Everything I do feels noisy and unnatural. Have you ever walked in hard crunchy snow that doesn’t give to your feet?

I watched a movie last night called How to Be Single. It was alright – quite average. It didn’t make me feel inadequate in my relationships. It just made me feel sad that I am not allowed to give my heart as I would wish to give it.

Part of myself hates this blog. I think of canceling it. Something keeps me persisting.

I have stopped watching Survivor. I watched it from when I was 16 until I was thirty, but I no longer feel like I can in good conscience watch that show. I would still love to be on the show (I would also love to be on the show American Ninja).

My vision is just to be free. I am persisting in work just because I don’t want to abandon anything and I want to be true to my past commitments.

To close off this post, I can only say that something has got to give. I totally agree with Bernie Sanders’ assertion that “when one of us hurts, we all hurt”. I don’t know how much psychological pain must be felt knowing that we are abandoning so many people into horrible conditions. I wouldn’t support capitalism (as it is currently organized) as a system if it means that human beings are disposable and insubstantial.

It always come full circle. I guess I need to be less sensitive to everything happening. I know that I will open up my feelings again even though they have been in hibernation (I guess they are already a little open – hahaha).

Exploding Scars of Shrapnel – Got Nothing for You – Cold Ice Throbbing Through a Pulsing Throat – Bloated Rather Inflamed – Ignorant of Place in Time – Blind to Chance Occasion – Succubus – Crestfallen


I Hurt

I hate being hard, cold, selfish, hateful, etc. It is the opposite of what I want to be and who I see in myself. I guess the truth is that at times I have pain (physical – an aching in my shoulder blades and neck; emotional – a worry that I am not good enough or that I will be alone in the future); spiritual – not having a connection with my beliefs and the universe). A person in anguish over pain can be a really small and horrid person.

So this morning I was reflecting on my vision and needs… here it is.

My Vision

My vision is to heal the hurts in myself. I don’t want to be hurting and feeling like I have no worth. I need to nurture the key relationships in my life, which are the relationships with:

  • My wife and daughter
  • My sisters
  • My cousin Wes
  • My friend (like brother) Travis and his family

I want to be loving, but I sometimes feel like I am unable. I hurt so much sometimes. I have been hurt so much. I really do want to unify people into one group. I just want to love. But I hurt so much.