day’s end

It feels as though night should have already fallen, yet the sun is still slinging white hot light at the Earth as though its inhabitants are the object of a cruel game. I simply cannot wait for Fall and Winter…

I’ve been a real bitch today. Sometimes, I don’t much care that I have been extra bitchy, but I am bothered by it today. Especially when I called the girl at Sonic a bitchy lil thing. In all fairness, the girl behind the speaker was quite rude. Her disembodied voice talked down to me from the speaker as though I’m some garden variety jackass. She needs to understand that I’m a very special type of jackass and do not appreciate being lumped in with a group that way. Since I’m no dumbass, I won’t be eating at that particular Sonic again.

It’s been really bothering me that I haven’t heard from my dad/grandad, too. I spoke with Mom last evening and she explained that he has finally forgotten who SHE is. He stood in her den, her mail in hand, asking who the Hell that mail belonged to, as he did not recognize the name…her name. He couldn’t put her name with her face. No wonder he hasn’t called. I haven’t called him because I was worried he wouldn’t recognize me and that always embarrasses him. It’s awkward for me, as well, but it isn’t any trouble. For him, it seems to be very stressful and I just don’t want to put him through it. I wanted to go visit this weekend, but Mom asked if I could wait until next, since she’s in the middle of another project. I might pop up there mid week and just stay the day and night. I really want to see Dad. I’m sick with worry over him.

And I miss Bennie. I don’t know why. He was just such a big part of my life, better or worse. That preacher man didn’t know what he was saying when he laid down those vows. Looking back, I should’ve written my own. If our vows had accurately reflected how things ended, they’d have said:

For better, or worst case scenario. You will love, honor, and fear, until you begin to IMG_20170522_161914feel as though you’ve lived an eternity with this man. He will scream and yell and put you through things your empty lil head can’t even imagine right now. You will understand the meaning of grief long before either of you passes, as you will come to realize that every bit of who you are in this moment is dead and there is no way to revive it. You will, finally, be alone, only to realize that you cannot go a day without thinking of the young man before you, as you forget the bastard he became. When that day comes, you will know grief on an unimaginable scale and you will long for the day when you, too, are dead and gone just so you can see him again.
May God bless this union…

if profanity offends you, don’t read this sh*t

I’m in a bad fucking mood today. Not all day…it’s been a great morning, but then…a few minutes ago, I think a switch flipped. I started thinking about shit that really sucks. No, I don’t know why. I just did. So…yeah. Here are a few things that really fucking suck:

You love the wrong person.

I’m pretty sure we’ve all been there, done that. The wrong person has your heart in his fucking palm and you can’t do jack shit about it. Why? Because the sky’s blue. Hell if I know why.

Somebody vomits in your fucking car, and you love your car more than you love them.

Yep. I’d say this should probably head up the suck list. Vomit. In. Your. Car. Oh, wait…after he tried to pee into a beer can while you were driving. Total suckage. In fact, I feel like I’m gonna throw up just thinking about it. I can only hope Maxine will forgive me for letting someone drink and ride. Seriously.

You dedicate ten days to helping someone get help for addiction, but there is no help to be had.

Okay…THIS is the number one motherfucker of them all. This one outlines the sheer hypocrisy of the war on drugs and clarifies that the truth of the matter is that it is a false flag. Always has been/always will be.

My friend tried, with my help and that of others, to get a simple prescription to help him safely dry out from alcohol. Many aren’t aware that alcoholics are in danger of losing their life while detoxing because it’s not illegal to drink, so…obviously…it’s safe. Right? Sure…it’s real safe. Till you become an alcoholic and try to stop drinking and have a Gran Mal seizure. Then you die. Even though there are two pills that could help you; Librium and Phenobarbital.

If you are old enough to purchase booze, shouldn’t that make you old enough to sign a release of liability at your MD’s office and obtain a prescription so that you can dry out safely at home? If you’re a heroin addict, you can do so, without a waiver. I only suggested a waiver be involved due to the fact that doctors are now held by the balls by the DEA and are being/have been squeezed to the bloody pulp by overly litigious jackasses. To say that they are shy about writing script is an understatement.

The other reason that many hospital affiliated physicians won’t write those prescriptions to ADULTS is that the hospitals make so much money from ‘treatment’ that it’s beyond belief. While they bitch and moan about indigent patient costs, they are, with the other hand, literally stuffing money into the bank from people and insurance companies who are forced to pay for treatment that is not necessarily needed. If one relapses while actively working a program, that person doesn’t need to be in a month long treatment center. Period.

Things ended badly between my friend and I, so I returned home two days ago, now. At that point, the only hope he had was to wait a full week until he could get into a facility. A week when you’re sick because you’re trying so hard to just drink enough to keep you out of withdrawal is a very long damn time. To his credit, that is what my friend was doing when I left, although he was in the most foul mood of anyone I’ve ever known. Words were exchanged that I’m not proud of. However, drunks aren’t known to be the nicest people on the planet. In any case, I do hope he gets the help he needs because he’s a good man with a lot to offer the world.

When you lose a friend because of booze and/or drugs.















































hell is a simple thing


i know what Hell is
Hell is a father who walked away
it is a mother who left you behind
Hell is the ranting of a drunken man
close to your heart, but not worthy of your bed

Hell is the sting of a switch
slapping, stinging, cutting away at you
it lies in the hand of a cruel caretaker
Hell is the screaming of a woman
not worthy of life, but not worth a bullet

Hell is a man who is meant to love you
it is realizing this man does not
Hell joyously lives in the betrayal of the heart
it lies beside you in the night
sleeping peacefully in your in your marriage bed
feasting upon silent tears, till the small hours come

word vomit on a warm summer evening


i feel bold
empowered by failures
more so, by victories
at last

i feel cold
daring you
to try
if you’d rather not
i’d rather leave

i don’t need you
with your gun to my head
i don’t need to watch
until you’re dead
i don’t need to be your help
in time of dire straits
you took that desire
you killed it
you made love a disgusting thing
but, it’s you
you are the disgusting thing

Reblog from Centinel2012

Armstrong Economics Blog/North Korea Posted Aug 15, 2017 by Martin Armstrong Well Kim Jong-un has blinked as he has now said he will wait before sending missiles towards the US Pacific territory of Guam. He said he was prepared for “the enveloping fire at Guam”, but he said he would watch what “the foolish Yankees” do before […]

via Kim Jong-un Blinks — Centinel2012

dear doc…

Dear Doc,
I don’t know why, but the upswing that I had seems to be dissipating. Its vanilla sky is falling into darkness, I’m afraid. If you knew me better, you’d know that darkness is the whole of me. I’m neither proud, nor ashamed, of that. It is, and always has been, my lot. Perhaps you’ll come to understand why, one day. When you do, would you mind explaining it to me? I thank you, in advance.
This is my second week on the increased dosage, and I am aware that it is still not what one would call a high dosage. It’s only Abilify, for Christ’s sake. It isn’t as though you’ve put me on anything too serious. For that, I do offer many thanks. As you know, I have zero intention of taking any heavy handed medication. Unless, of course, you consider whiskey and tequila heavy handed… 😉 In any case, I’m feeling very sad most of the time and, though I’ve resumed taking the ‘anti-nightmare’ drug you prescribed, I’ve had no luck with it, whatsoever. I suppose another week, or two, or ten, is in order to allow it time to reach a ‘therapeutic’ level in my ol scarlet.
Speaking of the scarlet, I might add that mine is feeling rather muddied by your prescriptions. Not only yours, but the pain meds, as well. I can feel my sugar level rising and I don’t like it a bit. It’s all very frustrating. I’ll take care of it, but I thought you’d like to know. It also tastes funny. I got a paper cut the other day, and that’s when I noticed the taste of chemicals. I feel as though it would be better to utilize the expertise of an actual shaman, that way I’d not have this disgusting muck running through my veins. That is not meant as a slight against you, dearest Doc. You are, in your way, very much like a shaman. Unfortunately, the medicine you deliver is limited by the mind of modern, money grabbing, chemists and the vulgar corporations that they work for.
You know, Doc, I’ve seen your paintings. They are quite lovely. Your mind is keenly observant and the way you express that fact on canvas is sublime. I am still contemplating your post modern American Gothic. I realize that it’s been done to death, but you bring a certain something that I haven’t seen before. Considering your suggestion that it is a commentary on modern marriage, I offer a counter critique: The woman, detached as she is, is missing her middle, while the man is cut off just below the genitals. No legs. I think that your painting expresses some hostility towards women, portraying this particular representative of our gender as soulless. While the man, legs obviously missing, face painted in some primal, tribal, manner, has been cucked by the female; Punished for being a man, primitive and traditional in his ways. This leads me to wonder about your personal relationship(s) with females. Is that why you became a psychiatrist? Do you feel that your opinions are valid because you make $4 a minute? Does the money really fill that void, Doc? The void left by women who could not see your true worth and how did not value your incredible insights? I believe you should consider that possibility. It’s quite a shame that a man, such as yourself, waste time and energy on any woman who does not see his worth. Until you realize that, you’ll never be a real shaman, and that would be such a waste.
Don’t take the previous paragraph to mean that I have any designs on you, Doc. I assure you that I do not. There are a couple of men that I do rather enjoy talking to, but neither would have me in my current state. I understand. I’m not so stupid, or ego centric, that I am blind to certain facts. Although…it would be nice to live that way; to imagine that I am simply the most this and that who ever lived. Were I one for that line of thinking, I’d not be emptying my purse for your help, I’m sure. I thought I should clear that up…
I’m going to straighten the house a bit and think about what to do with the remainder of 6360658this beautifully stormy day. Last night, lightning hit our front yard in electric blue splendor. It was as though the war in the heavens had become so violent that it tumbled through the Veil. Very exciting! The skies absolutely roared with vengeance, and I could feel it, as it seemed to inform my very own flesh and blood and bones; letting me know that not all imaginations are imaginary.

Enjoy your day, Doc…

dream journal, entry #2

I’m in the back of an ambulance, alone. The road is bumpy and the ambulance is moving fast, but there is no siren. I can barely see, but I am aware that the lights above are 1~2extremely bright, and there is an IV bag to my left.

I’m strapped down; cannot move. There is a hole in my right temple. A perfect, quarter sized hole. No blood dripping, gushing or running out of it. It’s very clean. There is something wrong with my eyes. I think they might be hanging out of my head, or are, at least, displaced. Again, I am alone and I do not understand why. On and on we go on the bumpy road, throughout the night…never stopping…it never ends; just me and the driver, whom I never see.

I am not afraid. I am numb. Numb to everything.

As usual.


dreams are not for the faint of heart

I am overlooking a vision of myself: Hundreds of me are knelt in prayer to Almighty God; side by side, as far as my eyes can see. I can easily discern that each is of a different time or place, the last, and closest to me, is the me that writes these lines.

There is another figure, who stands tall and directly behind each and every ‘me’. It is Anubis. His manner is stiff and there is a sense of stern vigilance about him. Time passes. isSuddenly, Anubis plunges his right hand into the upper part of the back of my head. His hand lingers as blood and gore spill out. This happens to each of ‘me’, simultaneously. Finally, he pulls his hand away and I die. Every one of ‘me’ dies.

As I watch, it hits me that I will never live, again. After millennia, I will never return to this earthly home. There is no hope and there is no more chance to right my wrongs. I am dead. Truly.

I wake up screaming and crying and angry. Though I do not believe in reincarnation, I am full of sorrow and hurt and fear. I am full of hatred for Anubis and the pain he brings, each time he visits me in a dream. But, more than anything, as I lie in my bed, I am accosted by more questions than I have answers to.

After waking from a dream such as that, even the beauty of a grey Mayberry day is lost on me. I have two Anubis dreams, neither of which I understand. Both of which leave me confused and feeling shaken to the core. Of all the nightmares I have, they, particularly, make me give pause to wonder if I’m really alive, at all, or if I ever was alive, to begin with.

to friend, or not to friend, etc…

Going to see the good doc today. Get a lil head shrinkin’ done and get out of the house. I’m not thrilled with the weather, as Maxine has a thing for ruts full of water and hydroplaning. No matter, I shall trudge forth! Onward and upward! Ummmm…wait…what was I going to say…

Someone said something a week or two ago that really made me consider the what the FB ‘friend’ really is. I always assume that friendship is friendship. If that’s true, then it means something. If it’s not…then, fuck it. That’s basically how I took what this person, a FB ‘friend’ of mine, said. And that was really sad to me. Because I always thought that he and I were actually friends, or would be in real life. I don’t have anyone on my friend list that I don’t like or would not hang out with in real life. Some more than others, maybe, but I like the small group that populates my list.

In light of the subject coming up, I’ve also been evaluating real life friendships, of which I have few. That is by design, as I don’t trust people and don’t play games. It’s seems as though, if you are going to have even one friend, games are part of the territory. I can’t decide to start playing, or just say the usual ‘fuck it’ and just be to myself. It’s a hard call to make. Then again, who’s to say the person gives a shit? Fuck. This is why I don’t collect people. Too much confusion and frustration.

I really do hope the rain holds off today. Just long enough for me to get to Shreveport and back. I’ve been up since midnight, but did get a couple of good hours in before. But I just don’t feel like doing any strategic weather driving. That doesn’t sound right, but I’m sure it’s self explanatory. I barely do ok these days just driving in a straight line. I think it’s my meds. Whatever. I fully expect to get pulled over for it one of these days and given a breathalyzer. I still can’t say the alphabet backwards. I wonder how much of the test that’s worth…

Okay…morning ramble over. Time to get dressed…

always your girl

20160618_090307i dreamed of you last night
as darkness swept over the land
we were young, you and i
in love
full of joy
as we strolled down the beach, hand in hand

in my dream, you smiled, so sweetly
as you did when love was new
in your eyes, i saw my future
our children…
that was back before we were ‘me’ and ‘you’

time began to move faster, then
even though it was only a dream
days came and went
and we couldn’t save us
nothing between us was as it seemed

everyone who saw us
even those who knew us very well
thought you and i were great together
and so we were
as we’d created the perfect Hell

on the day you died
it was far too late
to say another ‘i love you’
so typical, such twisted fate
but i knew you loved me, too

it’s so hard to make a life
in this wicked world
till we meet again
and, in spite of all that happened
i will always be your girl

i miss you, b.