Wednesday, June 11, 2014


People are cheap. Do I provide value? Am I worth something?
What does worth mean? Money? An arbitrary measurement at best, because someone other than me controls it.
The best intentions? Work all the time and wonder why?
Timing is everything. Luck is undersold. Nobody wants to be reminded of how slim the tolerances are.The people who make it want to think that is the way it's meant to be. Their unshakeable faith in their success is probably why they are where they are. So, they are probably right. I wonder how many sign fliers just know they are one break away from paydirt.
And it doesn't matter.
Who really cares? Ask yourself that question? Who is there when there is no benefit, no money, no nothing. No question mark. No question? Life is hard, since when is that a question, my existential angst is really getting tiresome. That is why I put it here. It's safe, and it don't matter. I could go on all day, but what's the point?
Time to go to work.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014


I get tired. It's a theme of mine. Of mind. I'm tired.
Do I mean it? I don't know. I'm expressing the inner futility. The fear.
Who knows if the stuff inside is real.
Real. What a laugh. You only exist in relation to other people. You can't see yourself. You look strange in person. I know I do.
I am old, fat, and tiresome. I hate what I see when I look in the mirror. So, like Lefty advised, I never go around mirrors.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

A Surplus Of Noise

From Above
In two months, I will be 54. I am sanguine about the inevitability of this event, this date, this benchmark. Honestly, I think about myself too much. Do not mistake this for thinking that I am important in some way.
I don't. I think about the world, and my place, and what we are doing here, and where we are going. And I have answers, but they are just guesses. Some people are good guessers, better guessers than others, but I feel that they are just unafraid to be wrong. That it really doesn't matter.
So, where is this going? You move on, you change. Big deal. People do it all the time. People find joy, and despair. So what? Does anyone care about you, will anyone miss you, or think about you when you are gone? Yes? You win! I love the fact there are people out there who are unafraid, that just do things, and it doesn't matter. Maybe people are getting over the need to be "famous" somehow. Maybe not. I've always observed the main body of people with a certain amount of disdain and envy. They enjoy themselves with pursuits that I find inexplicable. The world is full of noise, and it takes a lot of focus to tune it out, ignore it.
You don't have to do it. You don't have to contribute. One thing I've noticed is having too much stuff shuts me down, and makes it hard for me to do anything. Information is stuff. And it is hard to parse it out. So, ignore the people that you don't know trying to tell you something. Most often, they are trying to SELL you something. You don't need it. Unless you do. Figure out how to define the difference. Seek people out, don't invite people in. There is a difference, and you can do it. Ask your questions, but listen to the answers, don't be thinking of the next question to ask. Flow. Turn down the noise.

Saturday, November 16, 2013


It started with promise. And that is where it ends. With a promise.
It seems like that is all there is left. A pile of promises. I wonder what will be made of them. All empty, divested.
No meaning.
It probably didn't have any meaning to begin with, just what you mistakenly invested.
And there it is, at the side of the road, ready for the gawkers to look at as they drive by, very sure that it would never have happened to them.
You make a choice, even a bad one, and you open yourself up.
Someone cleans up, you move on. And it's like it never happened.
But you remember.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

When Does It Go Bad?

When do people turn bad? Are they born bad, nurtured bad, learned bad, or is it something else? Can bad be hidden? Or do you choose not to see? When did it go bad? When was it that you became the person that you are? People saw it, people believed it, but it was hard for us to accept it. It was them. They were wrong. They were jealous. They said things. They lied. They held you down. We were poor. We denied things. We had a lot of money. We just needed to hang on. We had our eyes opened again and again, but the process took a long time, years and years. And every time the bottom of the pit appeared we sank further. But still we persisted. We did the best we could at the time, but we could have done better. Been better. Made better decisions. But that doesn't matter now. There is nothing to change in the past. You can change the way you describe it, but that doesn't help. Time is barely helping to dull the ache. Now we have no say. How do you cope with that knowledge? And where do you go from here? Even if you stop drinking the poison, it takes a while to leave your system. And there is always a little bit there, hiding in the corner. And the need! Where does that need come from? It feeds on itself. You can't even remember where the need comes from.Life is long, people are complex, reasons are buried. You have no sense of history. Only the present. It's a prison you can't liberate yourself from. And knowing doesn't help. You just turn your head. Even though the knowledge is inside of you, and you know it all the time, you pretend that it is not there. But it returns.