back to another serving of the usual

where's osama today?

worst suicide note ever...

nothing at all

thank god i have a good sense of bad taste...

you look like an artist

but you'll see...

automobiles can crash
stash your hash in a flash
windows can break
walls can falls

it's the young naked men with writing utensils

where's osama?
(look at how my table of chaos has gained control)

The way things used to be...

I thought this was a nice bit...loving you. Certainly a bygone era which is weird considering how recent it was. Though, truth be told, not all is that bygone, it just feels very removed from the present.

Things had been quieting down for some time on this end. This is not to report a complete lack of activity artistically or mentally, but just a need to step back and observe the results of my month of chaos. There's definitely more to come - news that is, not chaos hopefully.


what in the name of god are you doing, M?

at rest and alert

i am alive

though i seem to look through the eyes of the dead.

hello!

Sorry to make such a fuss over the ambiguous quietude. I can assure all and none of the safety of my mind. It's been a rough and tough stretch of time and it's now the moment of dread that I face alone and removed: inventory.

I'm sorry to those that I've harmed in the midst of my rage and sorry to those that I had shunned. I recollect with mixed emotion all the good times we used to have and wonder maybe how things could have gone differently. But the fact is and remains that they happened as they happened and didn't in any other way. Perhaps couldn't as well, but that's not for me to say. Not now anyway.

It's a slow and trying time for the motions of recovery and I will myself to it one baby step at a time. Progress will be reported herein but as always, a straight answer can only come straight from the source. It's too much fun to tweak my reality on these pages, so here's where to come for the view from the other side.

I promise no betrayals.

Only offense.

ANOTHER SONG

Another day to march through
Another hour, another two
Another early morning song
Another right, another wrong
Another way to just scrape by
Another low, another high
Another countdown to the night
Another love, another fight
Another feeling to depress
Another room, another mess
Another question goes unsaid
Another chalkmark for the dead

……


Get up.

hey

Now walk away.

Walk away.


Walk away.

INNER PIECES

coming shortly...



like the title promises, this won't be cheap...

a message to my ex

where's osama?