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 |  I write, therefore I am |
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I write, therefore I am. I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough. PLUGS:
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| Well everyone hopefully this wont be my last entry for awhile. My upgrade expires tomorrow at noon and I am having problems with PayPal. This has been going on for over a week and it does not look like I will get it resolved in time. But as they say hope springs eternal, maybe they will figure out the problem before I get home tonight. If not I will be back as soon as I can. Peace. |
| It is needless to say that I was surprised to see "D" at my door today, just hours after mailing the letter to her. It put a knot of fear in my stomach that I don't think I could find words to describe. When she left this afternoon with a postscript of her own I think there was a bigger knot in my stomach. I have just now gotten off of the phone with her and I feel like I am in high school again talking on the phone past curfew. She told me that she may have a surprise for me, but she wants to wait until she knows for sure until she tells me what it is. I talked to her son for a few minutes while she took care of something and he thanked me for whatever I did to make her come home smiling. He said that is was the first time she has really smiled in months. Which of course she overheard and yelled at him for saying. I could hear him laughing as he ran off. I cannot describe how I feel at the moment. I am nervous, but at ease and relaxed. I hope I will be able to sleep tonight. To all of you who told me that I should have written her weeks ago, you can say I told you so. Even though she will get to read it again when it arrives in the mail she got to read it. The result doesn't seem to be half bad. She did tell me a few weeks ago that she wanted to take it slow so I will do my damnedest to keep her wish. Sorry for the interuption, but she just called to say goodnight. I feel as giddy as a school girl on prom night. Okay where was I? Well I only meant to come in here for a second, but like always I begin to ramble and cannot quite turn off the faucet. It's funny when I look at her I still see the high school girl from days gone by, not the thirty-four year-old mother she is. I hope that when I am old I still see her that way. And I hope she allows me to be there. Qoute; Never knew I could feel like this. Like I've never seen the sky before. I want to vanish inside your kiss, every day I'm loving you more and more. Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Come back to me- and forgive everything. Seasons change, winter to spring, and I love you. Until the end of time. Satine (Nicole Kidman) - Moulin Rouge |
| So I have taken the post from yesterday, corrected the mispellings and placed it in the mail. It was hard for me to do and I kept wondering if it was the right thing. She has told me that she wants to see where things go from here, but she wants to takes things slowly, especially until everything is straightened with her divorce. This is always the point where I tend to mess things up. I tend to want to much to fast. It's almost as if I am so afraid of getting what i want that I try to find ways to mess it up. Usually I am pretty good at it. I put the letter in the mail around 11 this morning. At one who should show up at my door. You guessed it. So while I made us some lunch we talked about what was going on in our lives. At one point she went into my room to check her email and my Port was up on the screen. I finished dinner and realized that I had not heard from her and it was quiet. I walked into my room and she was crying. I asked what was wrong and all she could do was point. On the monitor Struggling Writer was open. My heart skipped a beat. She had found my port open and clicked on Struggling writer from the most recent changed. Of course she read "Letter for "D"", "I love her, still", "I loved her, once", and a few other entries. So we talked and they were happy tears, warm tears. She was surprised that even after all this time I could still feel that way about her. OF course as always she had to leave soon after getting here. She is supposed to call me when she gets home and I find myself as nervous as a school boy. As she left, she kissed me and said "I still want to take things slow, but I think I'm falling back in love with you too." The skies have parted and the sun has shined down upon my heart. I feel energized, excited and still a little fearful. Now if I can just not mess it up. Qoute; See, I think you're scared. You put up a big glass wall to keep from getting hurt. But it also keeps you from getting touched. It's a risk, isn't it, Jenny? At least I had the guts to admit what I felt. Someday you're gonna have to come up with the courage to admit you care. Oliver Barrett (Ryan O'Neal) - A Love Story |
| It's 3a.m. and outside it is raining. I can hear it sound against the house and it will not let me sleep. I pulla pillow close to me and close my eyes. Your smile is all I see. Your laugh is all I hear. I give up on sleep na here I am in the middle of the night writing a letter that you will probably never see. Sometime ago, just before you were married, I asked, "Do you think there will ever be a chance for us to be anything but friends?" You told me, no and I thanked you. You did not understand why I would thank you. You have been in my thought for more than half my life. Every woman I meet, I can't help but compare them to you. They never quite reach the pedestal that I have placed you upon. You telling me no, was like setting me free. I no longer held out hope for a dream. I no longer prayed for the world's to align and allow us to be together. After all you were getting married and I prayed for you to find the happiness that you deserved. Your happiness was all that every really mattered to me. It has taken me an hour to write what you have read so far. There is so much that I want to say, but I cannot seem to find the words. In the movies it always seems so easy. The guy plays the right song, writes the right words, says the right thing and the girl melts into his arms to live happily ever after. The real thing is not that easy. If it was I don't know what I would say to you. Just the thought of your smile brightens my day. The thought of your eyes, melts my heart. I want to be the one to make you laugh and smile. I want to be the first and last thing you see every day. I want to kiss you good night and rub your back until you fall asleep. I want to hold you and tell you everything will be alright when you cry over Dallas' first broken heart. I want to be father to your son and father to your children. I want to be behind you in everything you do. I want the memories of us together to comfort you in your last days. I want to be the one who makes you happy. If only I could find the words to tell you how I feel. I lack the capability to get across how much you mean to me and how much I love you. Always, Me |
Perpetual Rage is the title of the novel that I am writing. Actually the first five chapters are in my port. That's neither here nor there. THe point is this, a friend read the first chapter. He finished reading it, set it on the table and just looked at me. I was like "What?" He said to me "First, I think this is the best thing you have ever written. Second, there is too much of yourself in the main character."
I was shocked, stunned, apalled, taken-aback, and I can't think of anything else. Hmmm. Anywho I thought about it and he was correct. There is alot of me in the main character. Alot of his beliefs are similar to mine. A little of his childhood meshes with mine. I think that is why the character is so fun to write, because he is most like me. And I will give anyone three guesses who is girlfriend is modeled after, the first two DO NOT COUNT. As I have mentioned here before I live with depression. Although I have not had a serious episode in a few years I do have moments where everything moves in on me and darkens the light around me. I have also suffered from Perpetual Rage. Now this is not something documented like depression, but it exists. When my parents seperated I experienced depression, alchohol and Rage. My seventh grade year I was in so many fights and my file was so thick. Now some of the fights were my fault, but some of them were not. I became the protector of the underdog and showed no favorites. I may fight you today for some percieved slight, but protect you tomorrow. I became like Jim in the Jim Groce song. You know, You can tug on Superman's cape, you can spit into the wind, just don't mess around with Jim. Only I never got my cumuppance. I fought with wild abandon. I wasn't fighting the people I fought with. What was I fighting? Was I trying to escape the pain around me by beating it out of others? I became known through out the school as the guy you came to when you needed help. No matter the odds I would fight. I revelled in it. I fought one, two, three, sometimes four people at once. I was always moving in anger, in a perpetual rage. I still have dreams sometimes about the last school fight I was in. I got in a fight with a guy because he was messing with a girl who told him repeatedly to leave her alone. I told him to stop. He didn't. So I hurt him. He left and came back with two friends and I hurt them. I hod one guy around his neck until he started to choke. Then they came back with someone else who was as big as I was. Now you have to understand that at twelve years old I was already six three, wearing size thirteen shoes, thirty-eight waist pants and two X shirts. So this guy and I fought and I was hurting him until someone grabbed me and I turned to hit them and it was a teacher. There was a voice in my head that laughed and told me to hit him hit him. But there was another voice that was screaming, Look at what you are doing. This is not what you are. STOP. I did and I never fought again. Still I was feared and listened to from then on. If someone was fighting someone else all I had to do was say stop and it ended. I was the protector of weak and scared. People would ask if they should beat some kid up for helping a girl with her class work and I would tell them no, leave him alone. I became the outcast of fear. I was unaccepted, yet a part of every group. The smart kids, the drug kids, the nerd kids, the rich kids, the thug kids, the redneck kids, the athletic kids. Surrounded by many yet still alone. My temper is fierce and feared. Not by those around me, but by myself. Over the years I have learned to see when my rage is coming and I know when to walkaway, let things drop, ignore certain thindgs and people. I have worked plainclothes security and I had to quit because I was enjoying it too much. I became hooked on the adrenaline. I was catching people everynight and getting in to fights every few weeks. I worked in Mid City SHopping Center in the middle of the two worst hoods in Portsmouth, Jeffery WIlson and Lincoln Park. There were nights when I had to have police escorts to leave the building, I was followed in my car when I left. I quit because I was becoming that guy again. That man of anger, hurter of people, almost striker of teachers. I don't like that guy. He is not me and I fight with him from time to time when he tries to raise his head and be noticed. Everynow and then the rage monster will appear and it is something fearsome to behold. I don't think I could find the words to describe it but I will try. Sometimes I get so angry that it feels like my body is fighting with itself to let it out. I know enough to leave the room if other people are around, but I forget they are there. There is nothing but myself, anger and the fight within. Eventually it explodes outward into a broken chair, shattered clothes hamper or punched wall. I know you are asking yourself where is he going with this? Well I will tell you. I don;t really know. But there is a morry to the storal; Let it go, life is too short to go through it angry. Now that I have scared you all away, I shall retire for the evening. qoute; Think Norstad, reason. Have I ever abused you? Have I ever lay a hand on you of anything but friendship? Could I ever do such a thing? Could you imagine me ever doing so? And what about the past? Justin McLeod (Mel Gibson) - The Man Without A Face |
| The rain has come and stayed for a four day visit, and much like relatives coming that you don't like, it has left me tired and sad. It makes me think of things I would rather forget. It makes me wish for the sunshine. Not only outside, but inside as well. My ex left me for the final time in the rain. My paternal grandfather was buried in the rain. As was my Uncle Ricky who died of cancer at forty-five. Before I continue I will say that my Uncle was a sherriff, a deputy, a chief of police, and a towncop. He funeral was enormous, filled with officers, a twenty-one gun salute, and a bagpipe player. In route to the graveside we had a processsion of about ten miles from the funeral home. As we drove cars pulled off of the road as we passed and they almost all flashed their lights. It was like they had all gotten together and decided what they would do to pay respect to my Uncle. As I have mentioned before in passing and maybe even in a little depth, since I was twelve I have suffereed from depression. I will not say clinical depression because I have never been to a doctor. But I hear people talk and I know that at times I have those symptoms. Thankfully I have not had strong symptoms in over two years. I remember sitting in my bedroom with the tv on watching Barney Miller, crying, with a razor at my wrists, wishing for the strength to cut myself open and fade away. Now thankfully I never did so and never had to go to the hospital where all my little secrets would be revealed. Still I do remember clearly, sitting there and praying that I would be able to continue. Either with life or razor. The last time I suffered a severe case of depression was two years ago and it was raining much like it is now. Not quite a downpour, but enough to be hear inside. A friend was giving me a ride home an I broke down in tears, telling him that I could not go home. He pulled up to my apartment and I went into hysterics. I told him that I was scared that if I went inside I would never come out again. Soon after I told my mother and father about my depression for the first time. Of course they did not understand, my father just said "Well don't do nothing stupid." and my mother wanted to know "Was your childhood happy?" What do you say to them that do not understand? What do you say to those that think you are being silly when you meantion depression? You say nothing, you keep it to yourself and wait for another occurance. The rain sends mixed messages firing to my brain. While I have sad memories about the rain, I do have some good memories about the rain that I will not get into because Tor and CC cant read them, their wives wont let them. lol. Well I think I have spread enough clouds for today. Qoute; Imagine if you suddenly learned that the people, the places, the moments most important to you were not gone, not dead, but worse, had never been. What kind of hell would that be? Dr. Rosen (Christopher Plummer) - A Beautiful Mind |
| People always comment on my twisted sense of humor, but I came by it honestly. My mother's side of the family is indeed twisted. lol. Come pull up a chair and I shall share with you some tales of humor and a slap heard around the world. My mother is something special. While I was growing up school mates thought she was an older sister and not my mother. One time it was rainging and I wanted to go outside to play. I kept telling her it wasn't raining. FInally after tiring of hearing me complain she let me outside and would not let me back in. Even though it was raining and I begged to come back inside, she told me "But you said it werent raining." We were putting a fence up around our yard and we had line up where the fence would go. One of my cousins came over so I came running home, when I went to duck under the line it caught me right across the chin. For a while I had a scar on my chin. One night we were watching TV and my mother asked me "Are you going to keep that scar for the rest of your life?" When I asked which scar, she answered "Your face." Now you know that is funny. I remember being sick and listening to my Uncle James in the rocking chair singing Hank Williams Songs. I still love them songs today. We used to play cops and robbers using money from the game of LIFE. Or cowboys and Indians with him being Jesse James and his friend Billy being Billy the Kid. I was just a gang member. My uncle Raymond always had a joke, from corny to hilarious to I-don't-get-it. He also was quick with a magic trick and a John Wayne impression. After my grandparents died my uncle Robert took care of my Uncle James and AUnts Brenda and JoAnn. Everyday I used to go over their to visit. Everyday one aunt or the other would come to the door and tell me that they had to put the dog away before I could come in. THen the other aunt would come running into the living room on their hands and knees barking like a dog with pantyhose over their face and the legs hanging along the side of their head like ears. I used to run home scared to death. Now the slap heard around the world. I do not know the exact date, but I bet when you think back you will remember hearing a slap and wonder where it came from. It was in the late 70's at a family reunion. You see my Uncle Robert had a pet name for my two Aunts. I won't repeat it here but it begins with a C and rhymes with punt. You get the picture? If not I aint 'splainin' it. SO ate the reunion my uncle James and I were wrassling around and I called him a C!!! My mom walked up to me and slapped me to the ground and every animal for miles around froze, and said DAAAMMMMNNNNN! I never said it again. Somenights I still thing I feel my mouth stinging. So anyway my humor may be a little off kilter and twisted, but hey it was how I was raised. As I tell people all the time. I don't care if you find me funny, as long as I amuse myself that is all that matters. Until we speak again. Peace. Qoute don't fit, but it is a wonderful qoute so I went with it anyway; I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something. I just sat there. I just held Shelby's hand. There was no noise, no tremble, just peace. Oh god. I realize as a woman how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life. M'Lynn (Sally Field) - Steel Magnolias |
| Hello everyone, I just wanted to thank you all for making me feel like Sally Field at the Oscars, you like me you really like me. My BLOG has gotten over 150 views in just 7 days, with fifty coming yesterday. Now for a new product, If you have a chance drop by and visit one of our newest BLOGGY people. the loverly shattered angel,
Thanks |
| Did you stretch a little while I was gone? Good well sit back down and I will continue down memory lane. Hear grab a glass of milk and some Oreos. My imagination has gotten me through a lot of tough times, especially when I was a child. I had imaginary friend, imaginary adventures and imaginary love. I used to frighten myself with my imagination. There were never monsters in the closet or under the bed for me, oh no. There were beasts peering in my windows, bigfeet watching me from the woods, Vampires, Werewolves, and the worse monsters of all, man. In the late seventies a boy around my age disappeared from his front yard. Now this was a time when such occurances were few and far between. He was found a few weeks later and unspeakable things were done to his body. They found him just down the street from my Uncle Buck's house in a ditch near the graveyard. There was a man named Morris Mason who did downright evil things around the same time. He violated and murdered an elderly lady, nailing her hands to a chair and burning down her house with her in it. He also violated, tried to burn, and multiple stabbed the two older sisters of my ex "K". One of them is still in a wheelchair and the other was never able to have children of her own. He was put to death in the mid-eighties. A male teacher tried to molest my uncle James, a cousin killed himself, another cousin killed his wife then himself. A man killed his wife and the man she was having an affair with. He was a principal and she was his secretary. They were killed during a school day. There are monsters more fiendish than any that would appear in the closet or under the bed. My greatest fear, I mean the fear that I fear the most in all the world of fears, is sharks. That's right I said SHARKS. When a shark comes on TV I curl up and cry like a little wimmin. I'm serious stop laughing. I mean it, I'll take back the Oreos. I was young when JAWS first started making the rounds on TV comercials. My mother, my saintly mother, used to pull me under the coffee table and tell me that it was going to get me. Even now at thirty-four I cringe in fear whenever a shark appears on TV or I will flinch out of my skin if I run across a picture of one. My friends made me go see Deep BLue Sea a few years ago and I almost left the theater, my heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I watched the entire movie through my fingers. THe only other fear I have is to go through life alone and unloved. I don't mean loved by parents, family and friends. I mean the love of a good woman. Sometimes I see a couple walking through the mall holding hands and doing the cute little cuddle thing and I want to grab them and scream in their faces, "Where is mine? When will I be loved!!!" Just eat your Oreos, I know what you are going to say I hear it all the time. There is someone out there for everyone, You just haven't found the right woman yet, Your so sweet you deserve someone just as sweet, If I knew of someone right for you I would introduce you to them, If I wasn't already dating JimBobBillyJoeRobbySteve I would snag you up in a minute. And my two personal favorites and the last one a girl actually said to me on a date. Number One, You have to love yourself before anyone else can love you. Number Two, you are the exact type of guy all girls say they want, but will never end up with. Also I fear for my parents, they are not elderly but they are in their mid-fifties. I wonder what I will do when they are gone. My father I think will be the least upsetting for me, as we are not especially close. My mother on the other hand I think will devestate me. I don't want to talk about that. I have lost train of my thought so I shall end here for today and pick up tomorrow perhaps. I don't know if it fits here, but I like it's message,Qoute; You seek a great fortune, you three who are now in chains. You will find a fortune, though it will not be the one you seek. But first... first you must travel a long and difficult road, a road fraught with peril. Mm-hmm. You shall see thangs, wonderful to tell. You shall see a... a cow... on the roof of a cotton house, ha. And, oh, so many startlements. I cannot tell you how long this road shall be, but fear not the obstacles in your path, for fate has vouchsafed your reward. Though the road may wind, yea, your hearts grow weary, still shall ye follow them, even unto your salvation. Blind Seer (Lee Weaver) - O'Brother, Where Art Thou? |
| I know it has been awhile, us sitting here. If you need to stand and stretch out your legs, go ahead and do so. To fly, all you need is happy thoughts, such were the words of Peter Pan. I wonder is that true. If you put on a fake face of happiness will it eventually become a true face? Or will it always be a mask? There were happy times when I was much younger. There were times when one of my cousins would come over and we would love their company and feel a great heavy sadness when they left. There was my paternal Grandfather, who I saw once or twice a month. He was missing his index finger on his left hand and he used to tell me that the troll that lived under his staircase bite it off. I used to love hearing his stories of the trolls; some of them were nice trolls and of course some of them were bad. His house always had a particular smell, I can't place the smell now, but it always made me feel comfortable. My maternal grandfather was amazing, everyday after work I would be sitting on his porch when he came home, as they lived four houses down from us. Everyday he would bring me a little bag of candy filled with bite-size candybars, butterscotch, peppermints and assorted other candy. He used to be a cook in the Navy and when he left the military he became a restaurant cook. On Sundays he used to make breakfast from scratch and I was the only one he allowed into the kitchen. He used to make the most amazing breakfasts; scratch pancakes, homemade biscuits. He even used to make candy out of citris peelings. My maternal grandmother used to scare me alittle, but I am not sure why. She was a sweet woman, to me anyway. My friends and I used to make her mudpies. We used to bring them to her, she used to pretend to eat them and she always said how good they were. We never noticed the growing pile of dried mud by the back steps. They smoked heavily, did my grandparents. They both died when I was six years old. My grandmother was just into her mid-forties and my grandfather was in his mid-fifties. They both had cancer. They have been gone for almost 28 years and I still miss them. I miss them more than I could ever put into words. I joined the WDC family in June, it was after a visit from my grandfather. One night I dreamt that I was in their old house. MY grandfather was sitting at the kitchen table with his cup of coffee and a cigarette burning between his fingers. He was wearing his little white uniform and his hair was combed back from his brow, glistening. HE smile when he saw me and he told me to have a seat. We talked for awhile and at the end he asked me why I didn't write anymore. I told him of my problems because of my ex. He told me that I was being silly. He put one hand on my knee and another under my chin. He pulled me toward him putting his forehead against mine. He said son, there are stories in you, you just have to let them out. They are meant to be heard, you just have to tell them. He smiled and I woke up. I was crying and I could still smell him and the house. I think that is enough for now, I've managed to choke myself up. Just stretch your legs I'll be back later. qoutes; You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you, Peter Pan. That's where I'll be waiting. Second star to the right and straight on till morning. Tinkerbell (Julia Roberts) - Hook To die would be an awfully big adventure. To live would be an awfully big adventure. You can't catch me and make me a man. Peter Pan (Jeremy Sumpter) - Peter Pan |
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