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a freefall of jagged snowflakes
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Mar 7, 2007 11:17 pm
861 Views
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i walked past it today. i actually walk by there once a week or so and i never really pay attention.
he was there.
i remember him asking if i had ever been there. that was 8 years ago almost to the day and it wasn't supposed to happen. we talked about Death, no not morbid and morose death, but Death the cute little girl that takes you to the next place in the stories of the Sandman. She was on the menu.
as fate would have it, i moved into an apartment that either unknowingly or subconsciously was around the corner from that place. this was four years later and i didn't realize it until i'd lived there for three months. when i could i would have a beer and listen to the charles manson song on the jukebox, and remember his smile.
he came in and out of my life from time to time, a few times to give me hope, a few times to let me down. he always said he loved me.
the cafe on the corner, the place where it both began and ended, a constant reminder of the inconsistancy of what some stupid man a long time ago told me was true love. i've been drawn to that place time and again.
i heard today that they are going to close.
so i just got home, and i listen to these words:
raise a glass, make a toast
a toast in your honor
i hear you laugh and beg me not to dance
and on your right standing by
is mr. bojangles
with a smile, he's telling me its time
to let you go....
if you're out there, i still have your sweater. i hope you think of me while you are with him.
and now, 8 years later, i can finally tell you.
i slept with your bosses cousin.
some of you may see that as a punch line. some of you may think i'm cruel. what you don't realize is that this is the first time i have spoken (per se) those words out loud, even admited it to myself. it shows that maybe now i can let you go, and leave the netherworld we began in behind.
in memoriam: cafe netherworld
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hijacking the sun
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Mar 7, 2007 3:11 am
931 Views
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i've been thinking about lucifer lately. i've cruised the sites of philosophical and theosophical luciferians, the mindless opposition of the religious right, and the historical essays by entymoligical scholars. i've seen a progression from proper noun, to adjective, to concept, back to proper noun as history dictates the black and white of religion and secular science. the word itself, in essence, is light. its reflected planetary positions, the lamp of the suns, the origin of the stars, and a fallen shadow that plots agains all morality. lucifer is a word of power, no doubt, as ancient as yhwh or baal, zeus or osiris. it has been transfigured into a literary figure, from biblical interpretations to milton, and most recently a comic book. say lucifer and you trigger a reaction, an ancestral memory or a modern moral crusade. objectively, it can be said that on certain levels, we all strive toward a luciferian existence, and maybe thats why they hate him so much.
i want to be divine light, regardless of who i piss off.
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i shoot with my mind
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Feb 17, 2007 5:06 am
919 Views
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in 1943, eddie slovik decided that the war flat out scared him, and that if he was ordered to go on the front lines he would rather run away than die a certain death as cannon fodder. he expressed this to his commanding officer, and when denied did so to the officer above that, and so on from what we know.
ordered to be a part of the front lines in a surely losing battle, eddie ran. in 1944 eddie was discovered in the french woods, rather shell shocked and frightened for his life.
"All the men I knew and trained with have been killed." These were his words to the loyalist that found him. "I'm lonely.... The shells seem to come closer all the time and I can't stand them."
The soldier that discovered him convinced him that if he turned himself in that the U.S. Army (hallowed be thy name) would forgive his trespasses and after a court marshall send him, albeit dishonorably, home.
Soon after slovik was granted the dubious distinction as being the last person in our nation's history to be convicted and executed of desertion.
i empathize with eddie, not as he was but as he is now, as he sits with the dark specters of herod, nero, hirohito, or winston churchill in the shadows of darkened greatness. dissent with a higher purpose, darkness in pursuit of a somewhat loftier strain either through madness, conformity, or dictation summed up in an act of bold cowardice in the midst of worldwide conflict.
in the stories of the serialized graphic novel the sandman the moral that is prevalent is that each person, each intellectual entity, has the freedom to say no, and inevitably the freedom to give in, to give it all away. nero, through the insanities of the roman state and the incestuous royals he was inoculated with, publicized his scandals as much for the education of the public as for his own self immolation. hirohito admitted the weakness of his society in the face of a western tsunami of alien cultural norms that ultimately would overpower him unless he joined with them to slow them to a gentle ebb and flow. herod protected his sovereignty, and thereby his kingdom, by suppressing a bloodthirsty blessed heritage that had once decimated the populace of his kingdom and was prophesied to do so once again, to no avail. churchill made deals with devils and false prophets to secure a way of life for future generations at the cost of a near genocide and a slaughter of innocents.
eddie spoke up so we can now. his supposed cowardice has become our strength, his treachery our dogma. his name doesn't echo as those others, and some may even label those as evil. but he did a similar service. he provided us with direction on how, or how not to, use our voices to fight back.
eddie has been lost to history, although his name will be remembered by those of us that know the truth, those of us that have sacrificed the status quo to make a point, to be an example.
mind you all, this is the same backwards thinking that got me almost kicked out of college.
in summation, my heroes are those that have broken the mold, for better or worse, whose actions have actually made it possible for me to write these words. i don't want to descend into madness like nero or herod, or wallow in egomania like churchill or hirohito, i want to learn from their darkness and strive to live in twilight.
(note: this was written all in one sitting, and i'm sure that once i come back a 20 page treatise entitled 'why barbie is bad' is forthcoming, followed by 'ken's plastic adventure')
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kitty is having an affair
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Feb 17, 2007 2:20 am
838 Views
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its true
i got the email
my kitty, is in fact, having an affair.
she sleeps beside me every night, she knows my dark secrets, yet she has lust in her heart.
i received a comment on myspace of a friend admitting his illicit affair with my kitty which opens up a whole new question.
what the fuck were you doing in my house???
the real question is do i really want to know?
for all you folks out there who have talked to me, or at least read this much about me, know that, yes, this is all allegorical, but it still raises a valid point.
who do i know? who do i want to know? and why should i even care.
and i'm sure kitty didn't talk the pylon, the charo impersonator and the midget porn.
not at all.
kisses!
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underhanded footsteps
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Feb 8, 2007 4:43 am
796 Views
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two of my good friends are bitter enemies. this is not something that i can control and i wholeheartedly accept that.
the diet coke of drama question of the day:
when both call, both eager and ready to have a night on the town, what, or rather who, is the best choice?
to illustrate:
in the blue corner we have the psycho chicken, high school friend, the first person i in fact came out to. we weave in and out of each others lives quite often, often experiencing long periods of no contact yet lately have been comrades in arms on a near daily basis. a night in the chicken run usually consists of philosophical banter and culture mixed in with our mutually skewered view of the world and the idiosyncracies that inhabit it.
in the red corner the dreaded nosepicker, one time love intrest turned long time friend. our lives too run different courses and for the past month our only activity of note has been phone tag. a night in his carnal wonderland usually includes crude jokes, startling revelations, and occasionally a dive into technogeek wonderland.
to clarify, i judge a night out and its success not by the locale but by the company i keep. and another helpful tidbit, what keeps these two at each others last nerve is the presence of, what else, a very whacked out little boy.
i thought i took the high road. they called within minutes of each other early in the evening, both calls ending with an offer on the table and me with a decision to make. my comprimise was to call the chicken, and advise that nosepicker may be coming, and vice versa, neither had a problem initially.
when the time came, chicken cancelled at the last minute, and nosepicker made alternate plans limiting his time. in essence, that just makes me feel like crap.
i sit here now and think that i should have picked one and made near future plans with the other, i should not have tried to ride the median. i can't help but think that both now harbor just the faintest animosity toward me because of my unwillingness to pick a side in a dispute that isn't even any of my business in the first place. i know that makes them seem petty in my opinion, but i know that its human nature to be essentially petty. and along those same lines, maybe i'm just glorifying my own position in their lives.
the reason why this is so important is that i don't have a normal familial support system, and i have elevated my good friends to replace that absence of support that many others get from siblings and such. i know this is not uncommon in the gay community at large, but in my personal social circles most guys i know still have very strong family units, and that is something that i envy. as callous as i can come across, and you bet your sweet bippy i can, i in fact tend to care too much about the ways that my good friends perceive me.
i know deep down that it's not a big deal, but i can't help but feel my own fears of unacceptance and rejection creeping up on me.
and once again, i think i have answered my own question.
thats why all good psycho's should talk, or at least blog, to themselves out loud.
ironic, the song that comes on as i finish this is lady sovereign, love me or hate me.
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a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose
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Feb 7, 2007 5:06 am
1069 Views
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i had this grand post planned. i really did. it was an allusion to the last man executed for desertion by the u.s. army, but the point escaped me about halfway in.
that happens a lot lately.
i get into things and then wonder what was the point.
to add to my recent troubles, someone has hijacked my main internet based email account, and the company behind that site is not helping in the least bit. a friend who works at the g web site told me that the other site will only help if i actually walk in and hold one of their trekkie bastards up to the sacrificial white board and threaten a cut off of their deliveries from einsteins.
it's been hell but i've tried to change most.
so i've been online edgy, scared to even cruise my favorite porn sites for fear of being banned as a spammer or some other triviality.
so i sit here in the batgirl cave, i blog at my own risk, and wait for the repercussions.
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back from kitty hell
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Jan 31, 2007 4:15 am
738 Views
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back from the nether regions. i call it kitty hell.
its funny, i go to sleep and my world is fine.
i wake up.
3 of my most integral cords that connect me and my computer to the internet and beyond are literally eaten by the beast who now sits at my side lovingly, as if nothing happened. this is the danger of kitty.
1 phone cord
1 ac adapter
1 usb cord
i did get back online last week, but i neglected to come back here. and for those of you that don't know, a lot of the guys on here are fuckin rad.
more to come
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the devil was an idea
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Jan 7, 2007 1:53 am
710 Views
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i've been hibernating. not just from the outside world, but from the internal world i've created online and beyond. is it guilt? not really. is it remorse? not quite. is it shame? always, but not this time.
i just have actually enjoyed being alone, a separatist of sorts. i immerse myself in my work, thankless as it is. i play with logic puzzles and soduko, crosswords and acrostics. plus, kitty ate two of the cords that connect me to the outside world.
i was on another blog, which i wish i could reference but can't because the lords of this site are scared of outside influence, that talked about an experiment with occult ideas gone wrong, scientific mutilations blamed on danish aliens and freemasons, that made me think of my own cultural experiments, and their blackened cheek backfires.
am i that horrible?
it is a question i ask all the time. i examine my deeds and illusions and wonder if that is what the mirror of society perceives me as, some newtime crowley with his head in his hands. i have my own devils dictionary, my own wonder and wimsy. who are you? it comes late at night like this, yellow roads and ruby slippers all bundled up.
i think of the number 3, and how it haunts me. 3 years, the constant of my pain, 3 mouths, the motivation.
and i babble like this.
a reflective glance is much better than a full body mirror of a lifetime of grief.
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a fire wild and an icy past... like angie
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Jan 1, 2007 4:46 am
582 Views
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unsolicited touching : 24%
sexual harrassment: 29 %
violence as an answer: 54%
silence as a feerful phantom 63%
random discomfort 45%
lips and eyes 19%
happy new arm in the down ward spiral.
oblivion looks almost pink....
to me, this is what every poll that gets passed around wonderful evil worlds like myspace and foxnews (an intended humorous slight) looks like. deeply personal and unintelligible.
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you can smell my breath from here
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Dec 30, 2006 2:23 am
585 Views
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pink... who knew
it might be the snow. it might be that time of the month. but it's sad.
i've been thinking about him lately. stupid, i know. something that is so historically and fundamentally wrong shouldn't be lingering, especially nearly 3 years after the last episode. and i still walk down the street, see him riding in cars, staring through shaded windows, sitting in darkened shadows.
i know now that its not him that i want, not that collection of knives and briars that cut so deep and nestled under my skin for the past thirty millenia. i know that i just long for that feeling of wonder and warmth that for just a moment made me bright and ascendant. i know i am just afraid that never again will i be that whole.
not even whiskey is making me feel better.
the politics of snow are interesting. the politics of who benefits and who loses, the politics of sleeping smiles and empty stares.
politics is empty.
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To link to this blog (angrypsycho77) use [blog angrypsycho77] in your messages.
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