who ever thought it might be a good idea to slice up a pig and sear it in a pan with its own fat , then serve it with a side of eggs was an insane genius! i heart bacon!

so i'm going to be moving in about 2 weeks and trying to get rid of 90% of my funiture this week if any one needs or knows someone that needs anything and can pick it up i'm getting rid of at this time

-blue loveseat with white piping (small tear on arm)
-2x2 square coffee table
-6ft long walnut desk (professionally handmade)
- 60's overstuffed canary yellow swivel chair (very comfy)

We have lost an amazing women, a great musical influence with her sultry yet raspy voice, and one of the hottest actresses to have ever played catwoman,though not the first, still a fan favorite. My dear you will be greatly missed,the one and only Miss Eartha Kitt...

finally got some music up on the Mercury Poisoning myspace page, granted it is all crap but at least it is something but i do plan to put better stuff up in the future, including live sets with my spoken word and jazz and beat tracks...

i still plan on not checking myspace that often or even adding friends at this point but you can always talk to me or direct anyone interested to me here at Lj...

so i walked to work
(5.1 mi – about 1 hour 40 mins)
this morning to find out that this week is canceled and they tried to call everyone but i don't have service so i didn't know and so i got to turn around and walk home(another
5.1 mi – about 1 hour 40 mins)
which in turn means i lose 32 hours of work on top of the time i lost this weekend at grey because it was to slow due to the snow, so about $600 i won't have next pay period and modular arts appears to have decided not to do holiday bonus' this year even though in the last year we tripled our production out put and reduced our scrap from over 15 % down to 3% or less. in case you can't tell, i am a little upset.

on a side note i'm considering making the most of it and going sledding on random objects later in case anyone is interested in joining later let me know...

it is more apparent know what i must do with the remainder of my days on this planet as few as they may be, i'm in negotiations to purchase an AK-47 and some cheap tickets to Myanmar (formally burma) i can't find it on a map but i'll liberate the hell out of it. i'm probably not going to make it back...

further and further away i seem to be from my origin and my mind. i used to know that the purpose of life was to question exactly that ,the purpose of life. i remember a time when writing down my thoughts could potentially get me killed, and part of why i loved speaking my mind was that thrill. no longer does that appear to be true. we live in a society so numb that nothing shocks them, or impresses them for that matter. the signs have always been on the horizon, but after hundreds of thousands of years how did we get there so soon. what else is left after you have imbibed every spirit poured into a glass or bottle, after smoking, snorting or taking every chemical substance man has to offer, after exploring any and every deviant act imaginable,i ask ,where do we go from here?

you always have something new
to replace something thats not that old
you are always in need of a new gear, wheel, or hose.
i love the hum of your fine tuned and perfectly greased parts when i'm done with you
untill tomorrow, when you need me to do something new,and it starts all over again

thawing, waiting for new life.
awaking, walking though the tide.
breaking,i no longer want to be dead inside.

looking, finding something new
hoping, reaching an emphatic swoon.
crawling, i dissolve the numb i try to hide.

cliche ideas of butterflies and cocoons in my head
still there's nothing, nothing that gets what i want to say out
i'm not happy, with myself or with anybody yet
even in poorly conceived poems that flow from my hands

how to overcome this blockade or barrier
bombs and grenades can't break these walls
only finding someone else who understands
someone that can unlock these thoughts,
and yes i'll go there, someone with a key

even worse, a key to me

i sit each night at home looking over at the empty bed, computer screen light flickering across my face. playing solitaire again, not just a game any more, now also a metaphor for my life. thinking about who has been there, who i want there and who should be there. sadly, they are not always the same and even more sad is that none of them are there now, nor is it very likely that they will be. the people i know how to talk to, know i'm full of shit. the ones i want to talk to, i don't know what to say or how to say it and show for once i'm sincere,. a lot has changed in me. yet no one can see it. a lot has stayed the same ,and that's all some people choose to see. these are the things i think about as the next song comes on and i start to cry. i wanted to be alone to find myself but all being alone does is make me wish i wasn't alone. if it wasn't for this damned need in my head for a warmth in my arms, nihilism would be so easy. yet every night when 3, 4, and even 5 a.m. rolls around and i'm still sitting there awake in the dark, i still don't know how to get it to end. am i burning bridges not yet built? do i choose to sabotage myself with out even knowing that's what i'm doing? i spend my time questioning everything and second guessing my every move. when will i know the answer and how will i know its right? is this just sexual urge or genuine desire for love,what is the difference between the two and does it really matter at this point? months with out fulfilling either, the lines have started to blur. still no answers and always more questions, would the road be easier to travel if i wasn't going down it alone?

calm morning
calm before the storm

brain decaying
brain in disarray

heart dropping
heart in full attack

fateful encounter
fateful loss of all control

great conundrum
great obstacles overcome

violent seas
violent passions unreleased

electrical cord wraps around my arm

runaway mixing drill beats my flesh

grainy dust stuck in my eyes, blinding

the things i endure for money

gobs of thick white plaster cover my hands

not again, as my robot crashes

grainy dust stuck in my lungs, suffocating

oh, the things i endure for money

i tell myself, if i didn't like it, i wouldn't do it

things are changing for the better, i say in my head

grainy dust isn't forever, i remind myself,hoping

the things i endure for not near enough money

visited 26 states (52%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or try another Douwe Osinga project

We were brothers once , not in the "oh your so close you're like a brother" since but really he was my brother , my own flesh and blood . i didn't know who he was anymore, as he loomed over me with the large wooden branch in his hand and all i could think was what led up to this ,where had i gone wrong as a sibling, this was someone i had been raised with and yes, we had fought as kids but never like this. i had only been home for two weeks and of course i've teased him , but all in jest and he was well aware of that . it came down to my last day ,my flight back to seattle the next morning at 11 a.m. ,and we hopped in his truck to head to my grandmothers so i can see her one last time before i was to go.as we started to pull out of the driveway a small piece of his truck had gotten caught on the tarp in front of it. then SNAP* . it broke the front end a little ,so he jumps out and proceeds to rip the rest of his plexiglass bug guard off with his bare hand and gets back and starts to peal out in the loose gravel. i turn and tell him to "calm the fuck down " .so he then continues to inform me,"i've had enough of your mouth since you got here.". while i am trying to explain that all i wanted was for him to calm down before we got to grandma's house he raises his hand at me which i catch with mine, but by that time i feel the imprint of his other fist across my head. i never saw that coming , my own brother struck me. i yell for him to get out of the truck and and we weren't going anywhere un till we "calmed the fuck down" i get out and by the time i started around the front end of his truck he had broken off a branch from a near by fallen tree and was headed toward me with it . by this time i had opened my big mouth once again and said " put the stick down and stop acting like a bitch ". he reply-ed "what did you call me" and i corrected him by saying that "i did not call you anything ,i said stop ACTING like a BITCH ". he raises the stick in the air as if to swing it toward me and as he does he lets go and lets it fly at my head i duck . it narrowly misses my skull and he gets back and his truck and takes off without me, spitting gravel up from his tires as i stand there wondering who this was that used to be my little brother . i could see in his eyes, he would have happily seen me dead right there in front of him. i don't know how to deal with him anymore ,nor do i know if i'll even try...

"A witty saying proves nothing."
- voltaire
"May God defend me from my friends; I can defend myself from my enemies"
- voltaire
"A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing."
- oscar wilde
"A true friend stabs you in the front."
- oscar wilde
"I did no think I was hooked on him like this. The withdrawl symptoms are worse than the Marker habit. Tell Allen I plead guilty to vampirism and other crimes against life. But I love him and nothing else cancels love."
-William Burroughs to Jack Kerouac on Ginsberg
"My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them."
-Jack Kerouac to Neal Cassady
"Two piercing eyes glancing into two piercing eyes- the holy con-man with the shining mind, and the sorrowful poetic con-man with the dark mind."
-Kerouac on the night Ginsberg and Cassady met