I walked
I walked among people
I walked among people who walked
I walked among people who walked without purpose
I walked among people who walked without purpose or thought
I walked among people who walked without purpose or thought, and I realized
I walked among people who walked without purpose or thought, and I realized that I was
one of them.

I sought
I sought enlightenment
I sought enlightenment from friends
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke in words
I sought enlightenment from friend who spoke in words which hurt
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke in words which hurt me
I sought enlightenment from friend who spoke in words which hurt me very much.
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke in words which hurt me very much, and
so I turned
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke in words which hurt me very much, and
so I turned my back
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke in words which hurt me very much, and
so I turned my back to those assholes.
I sought enlightenment from friends who spoke in words which hurt me very much, and
so I turned my back to those assholes whom I once called friends.

I deluded
I deluded myself
I deluded myself into thinking
I deluded myself into thinking people cared
I deluded myself into thinking people cared about each other
I deluded myself into thinking people cared about each other, and this upset me.

Listen
Listen to me
Listen to me, please.
Listen to me, please, for this is very important.
Listen to me, please, for this is very important.
Listen to me, please, for this is very important.

You are a selfish piece of shit.

I have one asshole now.

Sounds

Bumping back, and rocking forth,
Bringing flinging feathers north,
Floating flying falling through,
Whisper winning welcome woo,
Why the warrior washes worry,
Wondering wasted woman wandering,
Woollen wasted waning wash,
Wearing Wednesday wallow wish,
Making merry mannerism,
Money mastered mystery,
Moaning mumbling mystic means,
Mustn’t measure memory.

It brings alliterations to life,
That which makes the weather strive.
To making lightly understand,
That which one must underhand.
The moment mining measurably,
The massive manly manning me.
And so I bring the melody,
To halt for that which mightily,
Is said without remorse,
And to illustrate my point I’ll use this horse.

Insert random ramblings here,
The dog I fear the end is near,
And valiant veering vagabonds,
To wander with within without.
Lacking lilies Lilith lies.
Inside the pride instils the bride.
And so believe I’ll end the tale,
For it entails,Then end.

I just wrote a poem, and I have no idea what it says, but I'll give it to you for every word was important, at the time it was laid down...

One of the more common complaints I’ve been hearing this past year is, “Why do all my relationships end like this! Why can’t just find someone decent for a change!” etc… I wonder if it has occurred to these people that unless you find the “one true love” thingy (assuming you believe it exists of course), ALL RELATIONSHIPS END, and usually in ending, they end BADLY. That is, of course, unless it was a shallow one and the separation doesn’t affect you. Those relationships which are the most intense usually end worse, more violently, and more painfully. To know great emotion, one must know great vulnerability. The more you love someone, the more it hurts when it ends. You can’t have one without the other since these two concept define each other. In the end though, statistically you’re fucked since EVERY relationship you have WILL fail unless it’s that utopian one that we all strive for (some of us anyway).

Something else, don’t feed me that “I’m going to protect myself better from now on” bullshit. Love is a beautiful thing which invariably must end. Bask in the glory of it, and make the most of the moment rather than trying to martyrise yourself like some over romantic drama queen.

True romance is not about suffering. It’s not about self imposed pain. It’s about being able to find beauty in all things, and loving it. It’s about being able to more fully embrace all emotion, both positive and negative (people place waaay to much emphasis on the negative).

That is all for now.

The thing that bugs me about strip clubs is that when I’m inside one, I can’t help but judge everyone around me and feel like everyone is judging me. Naturally for the sake of political correctness I try to treat everyone as individuals, I talk to the strippers, try and humanize them a little so that I don’t feel like I’m just groping random meat. I’m probably going about things the wrong way. I once asked a stripper if she enjoyed her job and she went on a five minute rant about how bad it was. I walked away feeling sorry for her, and a little disgusted at myself when I was clearly courteous, perhaps even friendly. Every now and then though, (maybe a couple of years or so), I feel the need to go back and remind myself why places like that bother me so much, and virtually every time I walk out with these startling realizations which I had reached only a few years prior. The first one is that trying to humanize a stripper makes me feel dirty. The second one is that if I am judging all the ugly guys around me as “pathetic” then I am probably also pathetic, not because I think I’m ugly, but because I’m at the same level as everyone else. Today I also reached the conclusion that the stripper probably also bundle me into that pathetic category, and that really bothers me. These women are ordinary girls, most of them in school, with hopes and dreams, and personalities. They have opinions, and egos. Some of them have crazy self esteem problems, and those who don’t probably have strong egos, not by virtue of being strippers, buy by virtue of having to do rounds and asking random guys if they want table dances. I’m sure that has to affect you in some way, walking around trying to sell yourself (Ha, wait until I hit the job market. I haven’t begun to sell myself yet). The few strippers I’ve asked say they really hate it. I also never found a single one who enjoys her job, and I’m sure that if I did find one, there is a decent chance that she is lying.

I think the worst part is how hard I am on myself. I could probably get over some random person categorizing me without giving me a chance to prove myself. However when one judges oneself, that is the hardest thing to face. Through the looking glass is man’s greatest enemy, and most vital tool to self betterment. Let’s see what happens in a year or two.

I wonder if prostitutes get more business on Valentine's day...

A few years ago I went on a date which basically went horribly, and despite what I considered to be numerous sacrifices on my behalf, I got blatantly rejected. I swore to myself after that, that I would never again compromise my dignity for a member of the opposite sex, regardless of the potential rewards. Years have passed and I find myself managing to keep this promise. I am both pleased and frustrated. By the way I hate “the game,” and its players.

She sits upon a stool and stares blindly into the haze before her. Her visage is that of empty feelings, as if a dried husk, a hollow woman, a wasted potential. She does not blink for she requires no blinking. She does not breath for she requires no air. She does not speak for she requires no communication. She does not feel for she requires no contact. She does not live for she requires no passion. But those around her would gape and stare. Many trying to unlock something which is not un-lockable, and those intelligent enough to notice no keyhole attempt to breath life into her, with promises of beautiful things. They throw themselves senselessly against this automaton of vision. But they know not that she serves no other purpose but to distract, for that is all she knows.

“I am not angry you know. I am… disappointed in myself. I thought myself more perceptive than to fall into an old trap. I’ll not compromise my dignity for a girl. I’ve been there and I hate myself when I do it, even if it means something more. It’s ok. I’m not bitter. I swear. Just… disappointed… Ok maybe a little pissed off. Fine angry. What the fuck man! Fuck the Game, and its players. You wanna play this shit with me you play by my rules. I make my own rules. What’s that? You walkin away??? You lose bitch… Fuck…” But he also lost there didn’t he?

“Don’t hate the player man. Hate the game.”
“Damn straight.”
“I hate everything. Because my life sucks”

“Dude, what a tard.”
“Yeah man real winner here.”
“Leave me alone.”
“You think your life sucks? What about that friend with the triple fractured ankle who can’t get a doctor to see her?”
“Touché asshole now get the fuck our of my face.”

Fuck you Valentine.

“There is something I want to know, and you’ve never given me a straight answer about this. Why did you dump me?”
“... I told you before. It kinda died for me. I started to feel different about the whole thing. It stopped feeling right. I can’t explain it completely it just happened I guess.”
“I don’t believe you. It’s been what, nine months now? You still think you don’t know? Tell me.”
“I’m serious. I don’t think about it that much you know. I just prefer to put things behind me.“
“Bullshit. You can’t keep anything inside and you’re a compulsive obsessor… I think you do know, and you don’t want to hurt me. I’m ready now. I’m over you. But I want to get to the bottom of what you couldn’t tell me. So I’ll ask again. What made your do it?”
“Many things.”
“Such as?”
“Well I’m not lying about feeling a different vibe. It’s just. Well. Ok it was many things. Ever since my relationship before you, I’d been on the lookout for someone else. You know being in love is a great feeling. I loved it. I wanted to return to it. I wanted to move on. So when we started going out, and everything was working out great I kinda rushed into it head first. I wanted to reach that stage again so badly. So I guess I kinda burnt myself out. Wanting it too much.”
“So you lied about being in love with me.”
“No I didn’t because I thought I was. I wanted to be. See I lied to myself.”
“Ok so what are the other reasons?”
“Well, see because I ran in blind I didn’t let certain things bother me too much. You were all over me you know. Always telling me about how awesome I was, and how you wished you could do half the things I did. I’m not special. I’m no renaissance man, and you kept putting me up on this pedestal.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did, and worse, every time you did, it was putting yourself down with that compliment. ‘You do all this stuff that I ‘cant do.’ Dude. And I even tried telling you about how that bothered me once, and you got all defensive about how strong you were and stuff. “
“Hey I’m not some wide eyed bimbo if that what you think I am.”
“No I never said that. I’m saying that you were trying too hard to appeal to me… Don’t you see? Look you came out of your relationship with someone that hurt you as well. You were constantly asking your friends to hook you up with someone. You wanted to move on. You made exactly the same mistakes I did!”
“No. I was really into you!”
“I’m not saying you weren’t necessarily. I’m saying I got turned off by the fact that you were trying so hard to make it work. Combine that with my realization that I was in a relationship because I had wanted to be in one so bad. I felt like I needed to get some time alone, get comfortable with myself.”
“Look if you wanted some time off that’s fine, but I was never dependent on you like you say I was. I wasn’t in awe of you like some god or anything.”
“Look. I’m not the only one who noticed it ok? Even after we broke up people were telling me how you were always trying too hard to appeal to everyone. But that’s not the issue. It just a way you were, and it bothered me ok? There is no right or wrong in this situation, it’s just a question of vibe and comfort. I disillusioned myself and you in the process. I’m sorry. But in my defense I think you also disillusioned yourself.
“… Ok fine. Anything else?”
“No that’s about it. I’ve been single ever since we broke up, and for the first time in my life I don’t have this overwhelming urge to find a girlfriend in everyone that I meet. I’m actually comfortable in my solitude. Sure I get lonely from time to time. Everyone does. But for once, I’m not obsessing. I’m not desperate. And I’m having fun!”
“So that’s it? You’re going to be alone for the rest of your life?”
“No. I’ve just stopped trying so hard. I’ll meet people, and eventually chemistry will act, a spark will happen, and something might ensue, just as it might break. Same as always really, but I won’t force the feelings next time.”
“So you never loved me.”
“I thought I did. And in my defense I think you did the same thing I did.”
“That’s not true.”
“Maybe.”
“…”
“You wanted the truth.”
“You’re such an asshole. I can’t believe I even gave you the benefit of the doubt when you dumped me.”
“Look you’ll think about it some. And you will eventually realize that I’m not a bad person. Misguided, young, naïve, but not an asshole. You taught me a lot about myself and I’m grateful. I have no regrets.”
“Always about regrets with you isn’t it.”
“I live my life that way.”
“…”
“…”
“So I guess this is goodbye.”
“I guess it is. Someday you will forgive me.”
“Perhaps.”

In the north, there is a little house in the middle of a wood, on a lake, covered with ice and snow. A small tendril of smoke eschews from a small protrusion perhaps about the size of a tin can of asparagus, or tomatoes. A soft wind sharpens the hint of a razor’s edge to the austerity, bringing the foliage to life as it shifts comfortably in its resting. It shakes the white powder onto the blanket at its feet, and with a great sigh falls into a deeper sleep. Such perfection is seldom witnessed by those who know how to appreciate the beauty of such moments.

If one should walk slowly and deliberately towards the man, made structure, one will hear the crunching of snow at one’s feet, as indentations are carved irrevocably upon the surface of mother nature; a testament to those who have passed previously. Footprints, sled-prints, perfect holes in the blanket where once a beer bottle resided, cooled by her breath. The path is worn and narrow, and difficult to navigate for the chasm between the two sides of ice was difficult to build in the first place. Passage through this place was obtained through the footsteps of those who have passed before, as if a quickening of erosion.
And as you reach for the golden knob on the door to the cottage, icicles fighting to grow one drop at a time as the warmth of the cottage feeds them fresh droplets of water, a smell of woodchips and tobacco fills the senses.