March 26, 2013

Hey guys. Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Been a long time. Too long. Anyway, I’m back posting blogs and things. Meanwhile follow me on Twitter.    http://www.twitter.com/richhillenjr

Here’s a picture:

0phgirlcar RichMadHatStairway


Underground Poets Society of 2012

June 3, 2012

I haven’t been blogging on here for a bit. I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately and posting it on a poetry page on Facebook. I’ll be publishing a poetry collection by October for the Underground Modern Poets of 2012 book.

Here’s a few samples

BLOODY TOILS

by Tara Seuss

…. my blood is boiling over and over. yes, it is over. make this nightmare stop. stop fucking asking me please, stop everything. stop you. you make me blue, i want you to be fucking true and i want to kill you. i want to kill these toils, troubles and fucking bubbles you cause, fuck off i’m sorry (audience please applause). burn burn, oh yeah, you’re gonna burn- kid you have no idea how much you have to learn. first lesson, you have to give if you want to earn. correction, put that lesson back on the shelf……your only hope is to be someone else. amen.
  • Comfort
  • By Art Glibfunny
    it was a box
    just a box
    a small
    red
    rectangular
    cardboard box
    with big
    bright
    yellow cages on it
    containing confectionary animals
    from worlds away
    a consumable passport
    to happiness

    it had a string
    to carry it
    and
    it brought joy
    and happiness
    while
    begging great
    questions about
    life at large
    and my place in the
    world
    in the
    young
    comfort
    thank you mom
    days of my
    bologna
    mustard
    and lettuce
    wax paper
    wrapped
    lunch box
    childhood

    even today
    as I cradle
    the red
    cardboard
    box
    and enjoy
    a flat cookie creature
    from the
    flour zoo
    I am
    transported back
    from my jaded
    wake up
    nap time is over
    tired
    adult
    traveled path
    to the buster brown
    saddle shoe
    milk and
    graham cracker
    comfort and
    innocence
    so vital to
    happy longevity
    and the
    human condition

  • SQt 2010
Untitled by Ilan Miller
My heart is a proximity mine, send in the dogs, pull the pin, change the channel, and watch your step.

Don’t come in, the waters not fine, the rats are abandoning ship, your favorite show has been cancelled, and violence prevails.

Life has become a sad 80s montage, only dumbed down. The finish lines been burned, there is no consolation prize.

My personal hell has frozen over, I grab my glass, my icepick and my whiskey and I think of days long gone…

There’s many more and I’ll post some here and there. If I didn’t post yours it’s only because I chose a few random great poems. Like I said-More to come!



Hillen Prison Blues – I Feel the Fluids Rushing

March 29, 2012

I feel the fluids rushing

Up and down

And back

Up and down

My back

Spine

Light headed

Heavy hearted

Ears fuzzy disoriented

Vertigo

Bones crack every time

I move

Elbows

Knees

Hands

Feet

Fingers

Toes

FACE

My facial affliction

Nerves explode

Fireworks of the nerves

Side of my face

I seek relief

Scream in agonizing

Torture and terror

I chose

Sleep to

Escape

Forget

Awake

Remember

Impairment

Then depression

Sleep

Forget

I want to forget

I don’t want to sleep

I want to sleep

I love my sleep

But not much

My dreams are pleasant

And my reality is a

Nightmare

But

I’d rather have the bad dreams and the good life

“Sleep. Those little slices of Death. How I loathe them.” Edgar Allen Poe said.

 

“Sleep. Those little slices of pleasure. How I adore them.” Rich Hillen Jr said


Angel Train and a Cup of Joe

March 16, 2012

Sometimes I think she’s the prettiest girl alive. She might be. She certainly is to her boyfriend (I hope). Long black hair. Big brown eyes. Petite and well proportioned. I’ve never had a real life conversation with her. I haven’t even physically seen her in a couple of years. I rarely see her post on facebook. I rarely think about her. This has little to do with my story except it’s about her. Carmella or Bailey. The 2 names I’ve assigned to her for anonymity sake. She is still my guardian angel. I only have interactions in my dreams and they are not always significant either. She’s in my life and subconscious for a reason.

 

Her face was the last one I saw before my alarm went off at 7 am this morning. I woke up with a smile. The thought of her always gives me a smile. My dreams of her always give me a smile. Maybe I should think of her more so I smile more.

 

The dream wasn’t anything out there or cosmic. It was a dream of hanging out with a bunch of friends after an unrelated dream. Half of the friends I knew and half I didn’t. Only Joe, Brian and Seth were actual real friends from real life. The rest were acquaintances and people I’ve seen before like Bailey who I choose to call my guardian angel. We were all riding a train going ot an event of some kind. A concert, a parade, a convention. It was some event I normally wouldn’t go to and ride a train to. I was hanging mostly with Joe. He was out of character. Not at first.

 

Joe was his usual self drinking a coffee and letting me talk when I spotted Bailey. I wanted to point her out to him because I’ve talked to him more than anyone about her. He seemed too distracted by the people and the good time and tuned me out. This wasn’t the unusual part. Just as I was trying to tell him about my guardian angel personified he chugged a 5 hour energy drink and as we got off the train Joe ran off into the distance forcing me back in the crowd next to Bailey and a girlfriend of hers that I have spoken to but didn’t know real well. I was forced by the crowd to exit the train next to Bailey. I told her what Joe had just done.

 

“He drank all of that coffee and a 5 hour energy drink on an empty stomach? That’s crazy. No wonder he’s running off with all of that temporary energy.” Bailey spoke to me for the first time in what I perceived as real life in my dream.

 

How did she know all of the details when I didn’t know them all? I was just overjoyed that she spoke to me and said something back to her to make her smile. She has the brightest happiest smile that made me smile more. The damned alarm went off before  could talk to her more. That’s all I wanted.

 

But still, I woke up with a smile and felt compelled to write about it. About her.

 

Is it possible to be in love with someone I don’t know? Or am I just in love with the Bailey that appears in my dreams? I’m not even sure what love is. This dream and my thoughts of her will fade within the day and it’ll probably be months before I think or dream of her again but I know she’ll be back. I wonder what this means. Then again I wonder a lot of things.


Bump Bang Bye – A Poem

February 27, 2012

Events cruising like Al Pacino through

Mutated sexual caravans filled with

Like-minded creatures of the day light

Bump Bump Bump

 

Her affordable anguish seems to cost

Her fiancé more than her

Mangle is such a felicitous word

Bang Bang Bang

 

Aortic anvils drop

Falls rapidly in the ruins

It’s delightful to my

Sad eyes

Bye Bye Bye

 

Exotic dumplings

Fancy affair

Dance

Sing

Cry

 

Bump

Bang

Bye

 


No internet? “No Money”?

August 22, 2011

So, my internet is down at home. Ugh. Great timing when I’m starting up a new web site, maintaining current sites and selling my art etc has been over 25% of my monthly income. I’ll be doing what I can once a day if I’m not too sick to get to a coffee shop or something to check in.

I’ll sum up my life right now.

I am completely broke. Can’t pay the rent. Obviously can’t pay the cable. Can’t pay car insurance. Can’t pay phone bill. Etc etc etc.

I’ve been in and out of a deep depression some days I cant move when the face pain is added. I have 2 doctor appointments this week with a psychiatrist and a neurologist for social security. All of the hoops and the time it takes or this disability shit is causing me more stress, depression, anxiety, and face pain than a job. Just when I think it’s over and they made a decision I get another letter that I have to jump through another hoop. I have never been this broke in my entire life. I’m almost ready to crack from the pain of the SSD process.

I hope I’ll be posting soon. I hope you keep reading the decline of the bipolar disabled self absorbed artist named Rich Hillen Jr


Social Checking Services are Watching You

August 5, 2011

 

The work place and technology keep changing. It used to be easy to get a job. You fill out an application, do an interview and you either get hired or not. Simple. Now most corporations have you apply online that takes close to an hour to fill out. They require 2 phone interviews before an in person interview. Then background checks and drug tests. A lot of prospective employers even google your name to see what they can find out about your activity on the internet. Personally I’ve wondered if this has been a reason I didn’t get a response on many job application in the past 5 years or so.

 

The past few years some companies hire “social checking” services to go beyond the general google or any other search engine findings. A recent study by the Society of Human Resources Management (SHRM) shows that 50% of employers are taking advantage of the new services up from 34% in 2008 and 20% are planning on using the services. These “social checking” companies specialize in watching and reporting applicant’s activities on social networks like facebook, Twitter, Myspace, etc. looking at everything from blogs to photo albums.

 

It’s entirely legal and complies with the Fair Credit Reporting Act (FCRA). Some question whether it is invasive of individual’s privacy come up but it seems pretty cut and dry. Most of us know by now that what we make public on the internet is open for anyone to see if we don’t make it private. Even if a person makes it entirely private there are ways around it.

 

The question of reliability of the information gathered because people present what they want to say about themselves and try to give the best not necessarily the most honest version of themselves on the social networking sites.

 

Personally I’ve been aware that what I post and say and do onine can be seen by everyone. Some of my sites, blogs, pictures, statements etc are definitely a bit risqué and even pornographic at times. I’ve accepted this fact as an artist and writer. I am willing to put myself out there to be true to myself. My art and writing has never been mainstream and I have nothing to hide. It’s more important than hiding everything to please others including prospective employers.

 

I know a lot of people that won’t have anything to do with me online due to the nature of their careers. They keep everything private and hide out only connecting with their closest of friends and family members.

 

If I’m ever hiring I might use a service but I’ll be looking for honest people not the ones that seem “normal”. I feel bad for the people that don’t think about it and have pictures of their parties and drinking and wild side that a social checking service finds and may ruin their chance of a career that they wanted.

 

Then again is the real you the person that sits in front of an employer for an interview or the “you” you project online? Either way there’s some kind of deception and some honesty.

 

For me, I am just going to keep doing what I do. Post what’s on my mind. Or maybe start my own service. Hmmmm.


A POEM: Solutions & Survival

July 4, 2011

Back to the up all night and no sleep routine. It’s an old act I developed in high school or was it college? Not a stand-up comedy routine. Could be at this point because if I don’t laugh I’ll cry.

 

Cry. Soft whimpering cries. Loud screaming cries.

 

No dies. Not yet.

 

Tired wired eyes. I doze off then wake up. I wake up I doze off.

 

I tried to eat my worries last night and I couldn’t keep them down.

 

I’m hungry then I can’t eat. Can’t sleep. What can I do?

 

My body rejects my denial and forces me to think. Think. Think

 

I slept earlier yesterday after a panic attack. Anxiety attack. Anxiety went into cruise control and got into an accident with my insides and outsides. I was inside. Inside.

 

I slept yesterday. It was a dream. Not the sleep. It was dream to sleep. The day before I slept. Slept early. Awoke early.

 

Productive. Creative. Happy. Happy.

 

Today and last night and some other nights the pains in my face drove me to a painkiller. Kill the pain. Kill pain.

 

Kills pain. I can’t sleep. Can’t sleep. I dream of sleep. Dream sleep.

 

Remember the night owl I once was? I wanted to be? Proud to be?

No worries.

 

Worries. Problems. Dilemmas. Solutions.

Solutions.  Think. Think man, think. A Solution. Solutions.

 

Solution? Not there yet. Not sure I’m anywhere yet. Had one or two or three or more. Solutions. Each solution is kicked out of the way by a bigger worry. Bigger problem. Bigger dilemma.

 

I cry. I laugh. I get outraged. I am sensitive. Sensitive artist. Bah.. Starving artist. Bah..

 

I go away for a minute. Two maybe three. Minutes. I am surrounded by love and sex and fantasies I make up as they float through my dreams.

 

I get home to an empty fridge and a coffee table cluttered with reminders of my worries. I scramble for solutions. I do what I can to solve the worries, problems and dilemmas.

 

Productive. Creative. Happy?

 

Not sure. Doubt. Hope. In between.

 

Go forward. Move ahead. Back to the taxi. Whip it.

 

Maybe I will. Whip it. Whip it good.

 

I win even If I lose.

I survive. Survive.

 


Fetishes Part 5- Agalmatophilia: Dolls and Mannequins Fetish

June 28, 2011

 

Fetish. The psychological definition of a fetish is any object or non-genital part of the body that causes a habitual erotic response or fixation.

Paraphilia is a biomedical term used to describe sexual arousal to objects, situations, or individuals that are not part of normative stimulation and that may cause distress or serious problems for the paraphiliac or persons associated with him or her. A paraphilia involves sexual arousal and gratification towards sexual behavior that is atypical and extreme. –Wikipedia

This is part 5 in my weird fetish series. Click here for part 4, here for part 3, here for part 2 and here for part 1. Today it’s about Agalmatophilia.

Agalmatophilia is the sexual attraction to statues, dolls, mannequins and other inanimate objects resembling people. It’s a sexual arousal one gets from these objects. Agalmatophilia includes the actual sex act with a statue, doll, mannequin etc., non sexual encounters pretending they are real and converse with the objects, the fantasy of sexual and non-sexual relations, watching encounters between other people and the objects and between the objects themselves (like having Barbie fuck Ken), and some have the fantasy of the sexual pleasure form the idea of being transformed into the object itself. Agalmatophilia may also include Pygmalion’s (from the myth of Pygmalion), which is a love for one’s actual creation of a such objects mentioned above.

This one word covers a wide territory in this unusual yet semi-popular paraphilia. I think back to when I was an extremely horny teen and I bought a blow up doll named Candy. I wrote a story similar to my experience in my novel, Yellow Socks: Confessions of a Non-Don Juan. I tried it out a few times and got bored so I guess I’m not an Agalmatophiliac. I did want to try out a Real Doll. You know the special $6.000 life size and life like women they make per order and how you want her. I don’t think I’d spend the money even if I had it. Maybe.

When I was a kid my biological family was worried that I might be gay (they were quite prejudice)  because I owned “dolls” as they called them. I called them action figures. I bought the Charlie’s Angels action figures and played with them. I was too young to think about actually having sex with them but I did undress them quite a bit. For a while I thought women were crotchless based on my “doll” experience.

I also have owned mannequins and dressed them up in pantyhose and sexy dresses. I had a few fantasies but it wasn’t overwhelming enough to do anything to the “object”. She was cute with no head. I made her one. Or two.

Ok maybe I am part Agalmatophiliac.. How about you?

Next up . . . . . Fetish number 6 . . .Whatever I find as interesting, repulsive or relatable.


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