Her

I was a fan of  The Cure for a few years until I realized they were like a drug. They were taking me deeper and deeper into the miasmic haze of depression and self-destruction. 

I woke up one morning drugged up and cuffed. I had no idea who she was. Numb. Snippets of unimaginable fantasies echoed in and out of my mind. Each one tied to a dark harmonic strand of The Cures "Pictures of You." We were going to OD together. 

We had danced in the red pulse through the night. A kiss. Darkness...

I am glad we failed. Or am I?

I don't know where she is. Bavaria somewhere? Was she real? 

I can't believe with all the crazy things I did that I'm still here.

Leave Me Be

I don't want your pity. I don't want your understanding. I want you to leave me the fuck alone.

I gave humanity many chances. I am tired.

The lies. Betrayal. Use. Abuse. Abandonment. They left me cold and empty inside. The only fire that kept me warm was that of rage. It consumed me.

There is no hate. There is no love. There is only indifference. Pain has become by immortal lover.

I have made peace with the madness. Solitude is my kingdom.

I want to be left alone. Otherwise that cold steel blade will draw forth a warm, red, unstoppable river. I will be damned for eternity. Self-destruction in inevitable.

I am always watching. I am always aware. Stay away. I am no longer man. I am a monster. You have been warned.

I'm Home

I am old, worn, twisted, broken, tired, and bitter.

I burned all the bridges that led back to people who betrayed me. Beautiful fires. Why stop there? So I burned all the bridges that led back to people who might betray me. Mmmmm. The flames. Still not enough. So I burned all the bridges. Yessss...

Now, I  find myself alone on an island. But I am not alone. I realize this is my island of childhood terrors, abuse, and forgotten dreams. The landscape is nothing but different shades of darkness. There is no angelic glow. There is no demonic fire. There are no shadows here because there is no light. Only an empty void of black.

I can finally lay my head.

The Flash

Smoke rises to mingle with the clouds. Weaving a blanket of grayish tendrils to cover the night sky. The sliver of a moon dances in and out of phase, playing hide and seek with my senses. Her whispers drift on the zephyr wind...

...teasing  like the gentle caress of a lover.

Walking down a lonely road

Untethered threads of chaos hang

A river I could not cross

Only you, the rest is silence

 (flash)

Gaze once

(flash)

gaze twice 

(flash)

Enchanted the third time.

Taunting mountains to rise

(flash)

Tempting seas to boil

(flash)

Beguiling all senses

(flash)

Inviting kingdoms to crumble.

(flash)

The storm is upon me...

"Light 'em up" Charlie

I got a lot of time to think as I drive. And I'm just remembering a few of the characters in my life.

1985

"Light 'em up" Charlie. A black gentleman in his mid sixties. Well spoken and always sharp dressed. The only thing that seemed out of place was the patch over his left eye. One rumor has it that he lost the eye in the game of poker. Another claims he caught a finger in the eye as he was sliding into second base. No one knows the real story except his little brother, Jimmy, and he ain't talkin'.

Charlie would always light up a cigarette and hand it to you. I thought that's where his nickname came from until I saw him stand on a pitching mound. He could still throw a 90 mile an hour fast ball.

His best friend's name was Frosty. No one knew if that was his birth name or nickname. He was just "Frosty" to everyone. I think it was his snow white hair. There are legends that Frosty rode every train in North America (that includes Canada and Alaska). He claims to have met Casey Jones, Jack Kerouac, and a bastard offspring of Cornelius Vanderbilt. That would put frosty in his late 80s to his early 90s. But I tell you, he was sharp as a tack and could weave a tale.

I met them both under a bridge near a railroad in Colorado Springs, Colorado. 

...more to come

No More Lies

The darkness has returned. Suffocating. Shadows confine my breath to a claustrophobic panic. There is no one there, yet the silence offers a deafening roar. Taunting. Begging for blood. A rhythmic chant to end the chaos. Will tonight be the night that I silence to howling winds that stir the ashes of madness? 

Love was always someone else's lie, but my truth. A thief of hearts. A stealer of dreams. Warm lips offered a promise of truth. Cold steel offers the truth of a promise. No more lies. 

One is not destroyed with the truth of a cold steel sword. One dies by the warm promise of a lover's  lie.

Texas State Board of Examiners of Psychologists

I have a question for the Texas psychology ethics committee. 

How often do you overlook a married woman sleeping with a married man while she is supervising him getting his LPC license. And said forty years  old man is also cheating on his wife with a seventeen year old? 

I am just curious. I sent letters, emails, and other correspondence, as well as phone recordings between the two. It was all ignored.

This is far from over. I will take it as far as I have to. I will bring down your board if necessary. 

15 years ago, money gave them the advantage. Now, time has tipped in my favor.