Conversations with Scar Tissue Past

July 20, 2011

Scar tissue expands every day on my wounded mind.

Sometimes I feel nothing. Denial? Remission?

Sometimes I feel everything. Projection? Frustration? Anxiety?

Scar tissues spreads and strengthens me and weakens me.

Sometimes my past will pop up and surprise me.

“Hey how ya doin?”

“Great. How are you?” *Stutter and shake*

Chocolate shake. Fuck you. I want vanilla. I always want vanilla.

“Livin the dream” *Shimmy, shimmy shakes*

Shimmy my ass. You’re dream must be simple. You must be simple. Fuck your shimmy, shimmy and your Goddamn shake.

“Oh. That’s great I guess.”  *Reelin and rockin*

Ahh.. that’s better. Reeling and rockin… Not living or dying just kind of rockin.

“Yeah man. I am so filled with gratitude for my wonderful life.” *proud statement loosing confidence*

“Yeah? Me too. What are you so grateful about?” *Twisting and shouting*

“I woke up today. The sun is shining. I have love. I have friends.” *it goes on and on and on and . . .yeah*

Doubt and reconsideration of this fool standing before me. Too evasive. Too general. Hides the scars and pain and the past. Denies it.

“Are you grateful you took a shit?’ *sarcastic laughter held in*

“Wha. . ?” *confused by ninja verbal dance moves*

“Are you grateful you found a dollar to buy some food?” *humility or self righteousness (can’t tell)*

The past faded away as I questioned and hustled and even disco ducked..

Hope or hopeless. Doesn’t matter if I remain in motion. Mental motion. . .Keep going and no matter the scars or the past or the pain, the spirit is well. Always is if I tap into it. Do the twist. Shake it out baby. Shake, rattle and roll.

You know how it is, Rockin and rollin and what not.

You cna live your dream. I’m living my life. It’s worth every scar.



I Live to Avoid and Void to Live

July 14, 2011

I live to avoid. I avoid to live. My Mantra. Was my Mantra. Not now. Not sure I have a Mantra. Right now. This moment.

It started when I lost my job last year. It was still livable.

I floated. For the first time in my life I had money in the bank. A savings. Comfortable. Unemployed and comfortable. Besides the creeping anxiety and blossoming agoraphobia I was comfortable living at home.

 

I move. I found a great deal. Bargain. A roommate. Money in the bank and unemployment checks. I was set for a while. A while comes fast my friends and enemies. I had enough money for a few months. The plan was to get a job when the money got low. Plan. Plans come and go. Low. Half assed job search. Job offer from a friend.

 

The face pain came back. Trigeminal Neuralgia. Over a 2 year remission it came back fierce. I lost the job on my second day of training. Pain held me down and kept me from working. Ego went down. Depression went up. The social anxiety got worse.

 

Since the end of 2008 I’ve been become more reclusive. More agoraphobic. More social anxiety. I was happy but didn’t . . . couldn’t go out much. I didn’t. I stayed home and felt better and worse. The money problems kept piling.

 

I applied for disability at the advice of my mother who is against people collecting disability. She read about bipolar disorder and trigeminal neuralgia. She understands it can be crippling and maybe just maybe I can’t work. I applied through an agency that takes a percentage of my retro pay if I am approved.

 

Somewhere along the line a few months ago I started feeling social again. I went out everyday starting off to save money on the air conditioning. Central air is expensive. Not cheap. Can’t afford. I’ve been begging and borrowing just to pay basic bills. Yeah. I was talking about socializing. I’ve been motivated to apply for other things, look for other ways of making money. I sell things. I sell my art. I do art for money. I sell my novels. I sell and sell and sell. Sold. I still have nothing. I have several web projects that will take a while to generate money. Nothing right now. Nothing. Nothing is my Mantra.

 

I neglected my car registration and a silly surcharge NJ issues if you get over 5 points in a year. I got 6 points on my license in 2009. Flukes. I’ve had zero points for over 15 years and now I am paying $150 a year for a surcharge. My insurance went up and up again because I live in a low-income town. Low income. Raise the premium. Makes sense. I was pulled over coming out of a store a couple weeks ago. I knew I had no registration. I figured I’d get a ticket for that and that would be it. I go get registered and bring it to court and pay a fine. Nope. My license was suspended for non-payment on my surcharge and it showed that my insurance was invalid.

 

I begged and borrowed the hundred to get my license and registration. The insurance company assured me that I was covered on the date I was ticketed. I went to court and asked for public defender just to have the date pushed because I have no money. Money. Ha. The Judge read each violation and told me the possible fines and threw in a possible jail time. Too fast for me to comprehend. I heard over $3,000 in fines and possible jail. I was freaking inside. I filled an application for a public defender. My next court date is in a week. No time to get money. Money. The even charge me $75 for the attorney. Isn’t that illegal? Should be. I have right to an attorney and if I can’t afford one then one will be appointed to me. Should I beg, borrow and steal to pay a real lawyer? Will it be cheaper? Run out of people to beg. Beg. Maybe Ill start panhandling. Busking would be better. At least I provide a service. A friend said to sell my body. Who would pay for me? Money. It all comes back to money..

 

Weird thing happened after I left the court house. I felt a rush of hope and happiness despite the stressful situation. Money situation. I still feel the stress and the usual anxiety but I am still in what I’ve been calling solution mode. I can’t come up with one. A solution. I might not but if I go down trying it’s better than waiting for more balls to drop. The balls. Drop. Life is problems and sorrow a lot of times and it’s my job as an American artist to work through them. Create. Produce. Sell. Maybe make money.

 

Today I am just worried about today. What can I do now? I’m doing it.


Writing

July 9, 2011

Writing. I write even when I’m not writing. I have so many stories, ideas, blogs and books written in my head and a small portion of them are half or a quarter written on paper. Not paper. In Word documents. Unfinished thoughts, ideas, blogs, stories and novels. A writer writes all of the time. I used t write the way I thought and spoke. Now I speak and think the way I write. Sometimes my actual thoughts and spoken words use correct grammar and syntax more so than when I write.

 

Not everyone is a writer but everyone has a story worth writing. Everyone could be a writer. I believe everyone should write. Don’t be afraid. It’s just putting words in front of each other. Write what is on your mind. Write what happened. There are no rules. Some say that there are rules and a proper way to write. Blah.. Fuck grammar, syntax, spelling, punctuation and big words. If you can’t be creative then don’t. Just say it.

 

We all have live a rich life. Not always happy. Not always miserable but something worth writing about. Some of us struggle with day to day living and survival and it’s worth writing about. Some of us are happy and enjoy life with occasional struggles worth writing about. Right?

 

A lot of my friend send me poetry and prose that the usually keep to themselves and sometimes even hide away. These pieces of writings are some of the best I’ve ever read. I’ve published a few on my wordpress site and they even got more readers than I get. So much

 

Of all of the arts I’ve tried and even excelled at, writing is my favorite. Something about seeing what’s in my mind on paper or on a document or blog makes me happy and fulfilled no matter how bad I feel or what the topic is. I have this innate desire to share my thoughts and feelings as often as possible online and I enjoy positive and negative feedback. I am self-absorbed and like to be in charge. Writing is perfect for my ego. It satisfies my need for instant gratification. It’s one thing I can do without depending on other people. Complete control.

 

Whenever I get involved with projects whether it’s art, music or business partnerships I am the only one that has my heart in it and the others tend to fade out. They have their own dreams and lives to live. I can’t expect people to blindly follow my dreams and goals. So I write. I write. I write.

 

I may never be a best selling novelist or celebrated poet but I have people that read what I write. People like you. You must want to red what I have to say of you wouldn’t be reading this now. I guess there’s the partnership. There is also the completion of my writing. Once you read it my writing becomes more than just self indulgent self absorbed ramblings It is a complete work of art.

 

I thank you for that. I thank you for making me who I am today; A writer.


A Watched Pot Never Boils or Adventures in Model Photography

July 1, 2011

Patience.

Good things come for those who wait.

They say a watched pot never boils.

I say a watched cock never erects (that is a story for another time)

I’ve been trying to get this new website going for months. I don’t want to reveal too much about it until it’s up and running and maybe successful. I have an outline of the site and the name. The concept is there. I have tech guys ready to help when I am ready. I even bought a camera so I don’t have to depend on my photographer friends. The missing ingredients are photographs of models. I even have several friends that have either verbally or written interest and commitment to helping me out modeling. They love the concept and are perfect for the parts. None of them have followed through after several months until the other day.

When I came up with the idea of the site my friend was ready to go and partner up with me. I was a bit anti-social and didn’t take advantage when she was ready to go. Then it took me months to get a hold of her and set a date. Meanwhile, she switched boyfriends and the new one is jealous and got mad when I hung out with her a couple weeks ago. This guy is jealous with her every waking moment.

She was advised by others to model for me if she wants to and not to tell him. I prefer boyfriends, girlfriends, fiancés, wives and husbands to at least know and hopefully approve and support the model. We set up our first shoot anyway. I had to pick her up a block away from her apartment because she lives near friends of her boyfriends.

We did the location scouting on the fly and did the shoot gorilla style. We both liked that. A sense of adventure and not knowing what we were doing next. We knew what outfits but not the poses and places. We played in trash, fake blood, pantyhose, the woods and an out door fire pit. Just to give you the idea of adventure we had. We were done in a couple of hours and headed back to her place. Then another ball dropped. Her boyfriend called and said he was coming over in 20 minutes.

Of course I got lost driving her and dropped her off just in time to clean up. In the haste I handed her my bag instead of hers. She had my lap top, camera and other valuables that for some reason I thought I couldn’t leave without. She suggested I stay in the area and we’ll exchange bags when he leaves her house. I headed to a local bar to kill time. After an hour or so she texted me to tell me he’s spending the night and we’ll have to exchange in the morning. I tried to get her to figure a way out of the house and do the exchange. I eventually accepted that I’d have to go the 12 long hours without my precious lap top. I realized the insanity.

I decided to stay at the bar since I was already making one-night friends and the bartender was hot. She even gave me a free roast beef sandwich. One guy who has been playing in dart throwing leagues for over 30 years played a few games with me and taught me how to throw. He kicked my ass.

I went home, slept, got up and off I went to rescue my bag. I’m not sure I want to work wither as long as she has a jealous boyfriend. We’ll see how that goes.

Now the other models set up dates and times then can’t do it for whatever reasons. Each one is a legit reason but it’s been frustrating as hell. I’ve made it this far so I’ll keep trying until I have at least 3 or 4 models shot until I launch the site. See you then.


A Little Off

June 27, 2011

I feel off today.

 

Off.

 

Not good.

 

Not bad.

 

Not in between.

 

Everything is fine.

 

Fine in my head.

 

Fine I can handle it fine.

 

Everything is still fucked up but salvageable.

 

I’m rockin’ n’ rollin’ n’ what not.

 

Ya know. A little here and a little there.

 

Still crazy.

 

Medicated.

 

Off.

 

Sleep. Eat. Shit.

 

The next thing you know I’m here.

 

I sit.

 

I feel off.  I sit.

Sit.

 

Off.

 

Feel.

 

Felt.

 

Over and over.

 

And over again.

 

Breathing is easy.

 

Eating is no problem.

 

Drinking is fine.

 

Fine.

 

I feel fine. Just a little off.

 

Off today.

 

I carry the weight of yours and his and hers and theirs.

 

On my shoulders.

 

Floating on my shoulders.

 

It’s easy.

 

Carrying you is easy.

 

It’s fine.

Fine.

 

Fun keeps following me and I keep shrugging it off.

 

Fun. Off.

 

I scrape the remaining fun off of my upper thigh.

 

I laugh.

 

I cry.

 

I smile.

 

Can I offer you something to lick?

 

How about a sugar cookie?

 

A goober?

 

Fun?

 

It’s over for a moment.

 

Swallow.

 

Swallow the fun that’s left in my mouth.

 

Don’t be afraid.

 

Afraid of me.

 

Afraid of off.

 

Off.

 

I’m off.


Facebook Status Frees a Man from Prison

May 3, 2011

I have a facebook addiction. I hate it sometimes. I also have a lot of complaints about facebook as most of you know. I hate the censorship most of all. I’ve had so many pictures deleted without notice or explanation. So, as most of you know I created my own social network called Novaboon. It’s unrestricted and open for everyone to post almost anything. Facebook does have some good points and bad depending which side you are on.

Through the years we’ve all read or heard horror stories about MySpace and facebook leading to stalking, rape, and even murder. These horrible situations have resulted in the ease in which information availability and the freedom for predators to give misinformation to commit these terrible crimes.

In the past few years, online blogs, status updates, emails and anything said online can be used as evidence in the court of law. This has mostly worked against people but not always. It can also be used to help people. Here’s a recent story to demonstrate this.

A 19-year old named Rodney Bradford spent almost 2 weeks in jail at Riker’s Island, New York City the end of last year. He was accused of a participant of a 2-man gun point mugging in Brooklyn.

He happened to be facing a robbery indictment from 2008 and he heard that the police were looking for him so he turned himself in confident he would be cleared because he was in Harlem at his father’s house the time of the mugging. He was wrong at first when one of the 2 victims picked Rodney out of a line up. He was charged with robbery in the 1st degree.

It turned out that Rodney had a solid alibi; his facebook status update. The time and location of his update proved that he could not have been at the scene of the robber when it occurred.

What was amazing is how cooperative facebook was with releasing all details of the update: time, location etc. when subpoenaed for the information.

Facebook officials said they are “pleased they were able to serve as a constructive part of the judicial process.”

“We’re in a much more trackable world, and for better and for worse,” said attorney Jonathan Handel. “The extent to which it means that the right people get prosecuted and the innocent get their cases dropped, that’s all of the good.”

Mr Handel also mentioned that the issue of privacy is also at stake.

This story made me happy at first that facebook was helpful in freeing an innocent man. I read the lawyer’s mention of privacy and it made me concerned.

Facebook can take any information of any member at any time and use it for any purpose. Just by signing up we give them the right. It doesn’t matter how private a member makes his or her profile, facebook seems to own a member the minute he or she clicks “I read and accept the terms and conditions.”

Facebook owns you and me. Be careful what you post but then again keep posting because it might save your life.

Reference- cnn.com


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