this is not a manifesto...

i am going to start this post by saying, i am however many whiskey sodas and smirnoff ices down the tubes.

so this is going to be a literary (or written verbal, not sure which is really appropriate) dump site. no one knows whence my thoughts will wander (and yes, i did say "whence" and i would gladly kick your ass if you take issue with that!)

i had a shitty day.

now, o my beloved droogs n only friends, this; this is nothing new. fuck, considering some of the classes i am having lately, and the course loads, it is a regular fucking deal. we know, right?

who'm i kidding? here i sit, alone, really. only a small group of you still stop by this dung heap on the information superhighway: but here's the thing, even the guy cleaning the port-a-pots is happy with his lot, right?

back to my shitty day, or more appropriately, how unshitty it really becomes in comparison to those that do and deal and fucking take it on a daily basis, right?

cause no one, and i do mean no one, can really understand to what depths we all fall, in and of ourselves. but. the big fat "but" that always rears its ugly head: those depths are still our depths. and the big game we play on this blue marble that has been dropped in a coal bin that fires up the train that rollicks across the universe beyond our ken is ultimately viewed within only our very own eyes.

cause that is how it is.

and those of us who are real friends, and who are self-aware, we approximate, and we do our part to make it pass easier. we see you in your moment of weakness, and we pass you the towel, or the change of clothes, or the cool glass of water, and we don't say anything. ever. never again.

cause somehow we know.

i have friends who have seen their friends blown to bits. i have friends whose friends' blood has been spattered across them. have i ever done this: whoah, i seriously take a drunken lucid moment to pause, and no, i have never held someone in my hands while they breathed their last breath.

some have.

some have been through the dank pits of hell, and only hint at it in moments of weakness. not that i am afraid of the dank pits of hell, and hey! if some of you are gonna be there, i prefer them to shiny happy times, honestly. but still. i have never actually what i would call, "been there."

and that is cause, ultimately, without a shadow of a doubt, i am one lucky motherfucker. but i am one rapt listening son of a bitch when someone who has is sharing these moments with me. i am appreciative. and i try to be the first bastard to say, "you know what? there but for the grace of god go i. and ty. thanks. thank you, cause you are stronger than i will ever be."

put your hand in mine, o my droogs and only friends, my long-suffering non-existent readers, those who return day after day or week after week or even month after month (fuck, i will even take the year-after-year's, cause really, have i been any better? no. no, i have not.) put your hand in mine and together we will traverse this monopoly game-board of life like some red-rover wall, impenetrable as long as we all uniformly and unanimously stay one to the cause.

i warned ya at the beginning of the post, didn't i?

darth sardonic

if only, o my beloveds, i could sometimes convey in a more detailed manner the tangle that occurs in my head, but i discovered something, with the help of lady macleod and a few other close friends that only one thing matters, ultimately: i have got your back. n if you could, for me (which i know is not my usual style to some of you newcomers, but i will tell you, hang around this sorry little excuse for a blog long enough and you will see happens more often than not--), find that one person in your lives who really needs that hug, and give it, without judgement, with total abandon. you may make the difference between life or death. and that is one fucking thing i won't joke about.

8 years ago today

in a park, outside of portland, under an enormous tree, i stood, nattily dressed in my three-piece suit, waiting for my wife's father to walk her down an aisle that was more a gap in the crowd of our friends and family.

she was stunning, her black hair piled in curls on her head, eyes alight, her cream dress showing off her beautiful legs.

i don't remember a word the jp said, so lost in her dark eyes was i, smiling like a fool and awash in sun and love.

the actual wedding was short, maybe a half-hour, all told. we moved quickly to my wife's friend's restaurant for all-you-can-eat mongolian barbeque. we worked the room, saying hi, making introductions. at various points, i would find myself standing, watching my new bride as she schmoozed the crowd. she exuded life. she was vivacious. she was funny, and engaging, and fucking sexy as hell, and she and i were now officially married. i knew right then just how lucky i was.

little has changed in 8 years. yes, we have two kids, a mortgage, a different car. we are older. but my wife still exudes life. she is still funny and engaging. she is still fucking sexy as hell.

and i am still the luckiest motherfucker ever to tread.

this is, i sadly admit, a little tough, because it is the first we have spent apart.

but i know our love is still strong. i know we will make up for all the kisses and touches and caresses and mushy stuff that we are missing tonight upon her return.

8 more days, o my droogs and beloved non-existants, 8 more fucking days. barely more than a week. it's barely sinking in, actually. will zip by so fast.

darth sardonic

he jung

sometimes others just say it better:

Yeah, my girlfriend takes me home when I'm too drunk to drive/and she doesn't get all jealous when I hang out with the guys.../she laughs at my dumb jokes when no one does/she brings me mexican food from Sombrero's just because/And when I feel like giving up/like my world is falling down/I show up at 3 am/she's still up watching Vacation,/and I see her pretty face/it takes me away to a better place and/(I know that everything) everything's gonna be fine

blink 182, josie

when you think your chance is passing by/when you blow your moon away/I'll bleed like the reed/fall with your knife/it's here I'll be with you

peter murphy, fall with your knife

I won't stop following you/now help me pray for/the death of everything new/then we'll fly farther/cause you're my girl/and that's alright

deftones, rx queen

If only i had more time,/I'd take you where you wanted to go./Italy isn't the same without you here./If only I had one wish,/I'd want a million trillion lifetimes/that I could spend with you.../Fall in love with you again and again.

the ataris, looking back on today

there was nothing in the world that i ever wanted more/than to feel you deep in my heart/there was nothing in the world that i ever wanted more/than to never feel the breaking apart/all my pictures of you

the cure, pictures of you

a good friend is hard to find/but you'll have one if you open your eyes/a good friend is hard to find/i found you/will you be mine?

codiene, hard to find

and probably the most important of all time:

If you need a friend,/don't look to a stranger,/You know in the end,/I'll always be there.../I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say./I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be./And if I have to walk the world to make you fall for me,/I promise you, I promise you I will

when in rome, the promise

happy valentine's.

and yes, i am crying, but only cause i am a pansy.

and i know that i might've taken some songs out of context, chalk it up to creative license. also, it may appear like this was an easy way out, but if you knew how long it took to figure out which songs i wanted to use, then find the lyrics, etc etc, anyways, it's more about the feeling anyhow.

darth sardonic