Excerpt from The Official History of Tomorrow’s Dream pages 87-89

June 22, 2012

NOTE: This is an excerpt from the book I wrote way back in January  2018 and published in May 2020.

Excerpt from The Official History of Tomorrow’s Dream page 87-89

How Jocko and his teamster pal Buck got over the scrap of indigo blow snort gavel, only a real scientist will tell. Examine them closely and you would never know they were table beef survivors. The tracking devices made them look cool and even lowered their temperatures but they were being watched. Every skip and jump over the sand dunes were known by Kaydick Industries.

“Jocko self serving through production of self right bbbbBuck?” Jocko asked with unquestionable certainty.

“Aww knock it off Jocks. We’ve been through this before. These feelings of inadequacy will pass. Drink this.”

Buck passed the chuckle juice to Jocko knowing it would calm him down and in turn calm them both down. Jocko took several swigs and starred into the several sunned blurry sky wishing he were still a civilian and not a runaway ex table beef. The Agency had no use for them but Kaydick Industries followed their moves for the fun of it more than any business matters at hand.

“Feel better now?” Buck asked.

“Yeah. I feel so inspired. Can I piggy back now?”

“You know you’re too heavy but if you need human contact I can ride you. Just remember last time I rode you. You tore a few stitches.”

“It’s ok. Ride me. Ride me.”

The temperature was rising near 1,046 degrees porfeos. Dry heat that humps your glands like a reptile. If you’ve ever been humped by a reptile then you know. They had no choice in a life situation like this but to keep moving. The other side of desert is the town of Gointhaw. They would be safe for a while there. One would think with a population of 456,890 they could get away and not be seen despite the high tech tracking system.

 

Meanwhile Ralph was helping me with my own problems. The center of my scrotum was unnerved during the last explosion. I needed Ralph’s strong hands to reach inside and “pull the strings” as the motthoppers called it in my day. Not sure of the proper medical procedure’s name. Ralph wasn’t medical. He was physical for sure. He stuck his hands right up in there, you see. And wiggled each finger one at a time until he saw my fantastic grin reaching each ear almost. Chagrin. Ouuuther.

“Thanks. I needed that.” I said.

“Uppers yup. For you I can do fritterpops. Wholesale style. Ya know.” Ralph said.

Now my only agenda was to take photo options for the Agency. They remote wired me for the mission. My brain would freeze as they send a signal telling me when to click the device resembling absolutely nothing like a camera or visual recording device. It was built into my forehead like a third eye yet invisible to the eye. It was under my skin yet the 3 kolopuy length and width lens could actually see from the far away Agency laboratory. The trigger/button was on the side of my nose and only about .006 Kintopuys. It looked like I was scratching my colossal sized honker.

It was a fairly simple routine besides the brain freeze but the Agency was cautious and paranoid so Ralph was by my side in case I ran into any trouble. In some countries and cultures scratching my nose and staring at someone would be considered rude or a primal way of saying “skitter over lipper”. Even an inactive agent like myself could get quite the head banging and artillery action for that. Ralph is there to break up any potential violence like that and multiple other types. He’s a good zoo, ya know, it’s fun to keep him around. He doesn’t need weapons. I told ya what those hands can do with my “problem”.


Excerpt from My First Novel Yellow Socks Confessions of a Non Don Juan

June 4, 2012

An Excerpt from my 2010 novel Yellow Socks- Confessions of a Non Don Juan

 

Skeleton Woman or Things Like Me Don’t Happen To You

 

Christ it happened again. Another notch in my “girls that want to be my friend” belt. It made sense. We were perfect friends and she was real cute too. I kept thinking that I was ok with it. I’d be happy just being a friend again. I keep turning to God for strength to accept my fate as “Friend to all women” that I’m attracted to. My acceptance level seems to be ok. I go to my happy place. I go to my cave. I say the serenity prayer over and over I am sure that I will be ok with this. Yes I will. (no I won’t)

 

Cut to a scene from Fight Club

 

TYLER

Stop it! This is your pain — this is your burning hand. It’s right here! Look at it.

 

JACK

I’m going to my cave. I’m going to my cave to find my power animal!

 

TYLER

No, don’t deal with this the way those dead people do. Come on

!

JACK

I get the point, ok, please!

 

TYLER

No, what you’re feeling is premature enlightenment.

 

Ok. I get the idea. Feel the pain. Feel the hurt. Feel the rejection saturating my heart until I bleed more than just these words all over the place and finger my open sore of a brain as it wants to dwell on her over and over again. Screaming and roaring her name with anger and grief and sometimes a slight relief that it’s done and I know that she will not reject me again unless I go back for more and more or less or a little bite of her cheeseburger and a sip of her Pepsi to tide me over until the next one comes along with better food and spirits for my, for me for. Four scores of seven years itch as I scratch the weathered tired out mongrel of an ego that was left stray years ago in a pound for wayward hearts and letches that can only love and never be loved.

 

The pain of being a friend. A friend. I’ve heard that “Let’s just be friends” millions of times in my life as I gargle a new mouthwash and toothpaste hoping my breath will be the answer to my problem. My problem is as follows: me, myself and I. We altogether are the problem. We want to be loved so bad that we give off the vibe that scares the shit out of women so they just want to be friends. Friends. Friends. I think to myself that will be fine. Friends is ok. It’ll do. I can accept that. Bullshit! Feel the pain I tell myself. Embrace it. the pain is your friend. To hurt is to be alive. I’ve never been so alive. I’m alive. So alive.

 

“Did you ever hear about the skeleton woman?” Morton asked.

 

“Was that a Glam rock band from the seventies?” I ask.

 

“Ha. Ha. Nah. It’s an ancient Indian story. This guy was fishing in the middle of a lake. He was totally into it. He was relaxed. Not a care in the world except catching the next fish. All of a sudden he feels a tug on his line and he yanks it up. A skeleton appears on his line. He doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line and he gets scared. He starts paddling his boat away from it but it follows him. He still doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line. He gets out of his boat and runs into the village and he is carrying his fishing rod and the skeleton is still right behind him. He jumps into his Tee Pee and it follows him in. He lies down and tries to hide not looking at it for a while. When he finally turns to look at the skeleton it has changed into the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She is his. The moral of the story is that he was minding his own business doing something he enjoyed and that’s when the right woman came along. In other words when you are not looking for love is when it will find you. ”

 

“I know that but it’s so fucking hard to stay focused on other things without thinking about how much I want to be loved. Fall in love. Ya know?” I responded.

 

“I know. I know.” Morton said.

 

“We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.” Tyler Durden

 

To purchase click here


NIGHTMARES ON SALE – GET 2 FOR THE PRICE OF 1

April 1, 2012

I TRY TO IGNORE THE WHISPERS LOUDER THAN THE SCREAMS. IN DREAMS I WALK WITH YOU. You Roy.  I AM TRAVELLING. Always traveling. Moving. New apartment. New house. New CCITEE-Y. NEW STATE. STATE OF MIND. Party goers and house warmers and birthday goers and CHRISTmas mass attendees gather. I know some then I know everyone. I am no one. They don’t see me this way. He doesn’t see me this way. She. You.

 

MR SANDMAN BRING ME A DREAM.. I know you. I love you LOVE! I carry buckets of paint to your house and the party has just begun. I GET NO KICK FROM CHAMPAGNE either Frank, baby. Seven sisters of love pies stare at me and glare at ME AND THAT LOOK. THAT LOOK. IT SENDS CHILLLS DOWN MY SCARS- inside and outside that run against my heart. Let’s get this CHORDETTEONIAN PARTY STARTED MR JIMMY!

 

I put my arm around Grandmom to say I love you. People STARING. People caring. Empty people fill the crowded party. Acting hearty. Listing their character defects. Last chance. MY DEAD GRANDMOM TURNS HER HEAD AND SAYS “I KNOW WHAT YOU DID!”

 

 

I wake up smoking and drift back along the sea of asphalt, scraping my fat ass and ripping my favorite dream jeans still wondering what I did. WHAT DID I DO THAT GRANDMOM KNOWS I DID? Was it last summer Jennifer Love?

 

I am alone. ALONE. MY NEWEST OF THE NEW HOUSES. Sir Raleigh comes with news. I thought he said PRESIDENT REAGAN HAD DIED OF INDECENT IMPLOSURE. I didn’t care until I realized he wasn’t just dreaming about my Dream girl locked in his dungeon TIED UP WITH VINES and THE SISTERS OF REJECTION.

GIVE HIM TWO LIPS OF HATRED AND VIOLENCE. RESTRAINING ORDERS, BRIGHT LIGHTS AND SIRENS.

 

“SHE’S A COKE HEAD” HE SAYS.

“SHE USED TO GIVE BLOW JOBS TO HERMAPHRODITES.” HE SAYS.

 

My throat fills with vomit and joy. IN DREAMS I DO COKE WITH YOU.

 

Stolen emotions and borrowed gifts are shared at the airport and train stations and parking lots and I’M STILL NOT SURE WHICH IS WHICH. IN DREAMS I TALK TO YOU. Us is back and you is cornered and still slip away. Reptilian monkeys bred become bread for the children of Elizabethan peasants but I grab two of them and hand them to the girl with ruby slippers and she vanishes like the Dark Knight into the dark night when she hears Bruno approach.

 

“I’ll whip you now my pretty and your LITTLE MAN too! Hahahahaha” Bruno yells but not enough to find her. I find her in her Old Kentucky home with three wooden porch steps away and I go into seizures. Jules Vern hides Tu-Tu Hundred Feet Under The Sea Under The Porch. I pass out. DUM DUM DUM DUM DUM DUM DUM DUM –DUM DUM DUM DUM DUM. MR SANDMAN WAKES ME. The ape lizards have grown by the time I reach the inside. The Dark Huntress awaits me wearing a smile and a bra. I am excited to see her but worry about poor Mr Vern. Guilt reddens my pink face knowing that I shouldn’t be THERE. The Queen would be quite jealous and take away my deconstructed addictive Kingdom. SHE IS THERE AND SHE IS THERE. IT WAS A DUBIOUS PLAN OF THE HUNTRESS OF DARK TO HAVE Mr Vern under the porch and watch my web of lies unfold. The evil one IS not Bruno and I NOW KNOW WHAT GRANDMOM KNOWS I DID. I JUST DIDN’T DO IT YET WHEN SHE TOLD ME.

 

Caught in the trap admiring the salamander gorilla’s ability to change in size determined by the cage they are in. I imagine if they were let loose if they could grow bigger than the entire world. My Darling Queen and my Miss Huntress dance and change clothes despite the height and come out laughing at me and yet forgiving me and I feel a calm as MY DEAD GRANDMOM SAYS “ I STILL KNOW WHAT YOU DID.”


A POEM – Piss Thoughts

July 6, 2011

I just took a piss. Nothing extreme. Nothing impressive.

 

I was just thinking. I think when I piss. I think about what I might do after I piss.

 

Sometimes when I piss and I’m going back to a party or a date or hanging with a friend I think about all of the things I am going to say next.

 

Sometimes I think about how I’m going to get my date to kiss me. Touch me. Fuck me.

 

Sometimes I think about the impressive things I am going to say to people when I am done pissing. Deep and meaningful thoughts while I piss.

 

Sometimes I think about what I am going to write when I get back on my lap top like now.

 

I just took a piss and thought about writing a poem about my piss.

 

Here it is folks. My piss thoughts. Not thoughts of piss.

 

I wonder what you think when you piss. I wonder what you think while I’m pissing.

 

Do you hope I don’t come back?

 

Do you wonder if I am thinking about you? How I can kiss you? Touch you? Fuck you?

 

Do you wonder what stupid thing I am going to say next to be the center of attention? Do you wonder if I am going to come up with something to say to warm you up to me?

 

Do you think when you piss? What do you think?


Coffee Shop Blues

June 30, 2011

Holy shit. What do I do? I’ve been in hiding out alone in my house for so long and now that I’m out and making new friends and socializing I’m not sure how to react, what to say and what to do. When it comes to women. When it comes to her.

 

I’ve had a stressful day and wanted to hibernate like I did for the past few years but I found myself at the same coffee shop ordering the same coffee and sitting in the same place. I had to make a few phone calls, texts, and emails to move along the things that are stressing me and it was time for a cigarette break. There she was. Sitting with her back to me outside at a table immersed in work on her lap top or pretending to be immersed in it.

 

She was there for a while but this time I was compelled to talk to her. Tall blonde in tights and high boots that I thought were awesome so I told her so. They were sexy. We talked about boots in summer, men shouldn’t wear sandals ever, and people we knew. Normal conversation with a pretty blond with pretty blue eyes and nicely shaped legs. Not my usual type (blonde and blue eyes) but she was really nice and good looking. We talked and talked for about 20 minutes and seemed like we were hitting it off. Maybe we were or maybe we weren’t. I have trouble reading people after not being around them for so long.

 

She had to make a phone call so I went back inside and worked on a few projects for almost an hour and I wanted a cigarette and might have to leave soon and didn’t know what to do. Do I ask to see her again sometime? Do I ask for her phone number? Do I ask for her email or facebook page? Or do I just blow her off and forget about it? Write it off as just another person I met and leave it to fate (if there is such thing). Do I just pussy out like I have many times in the past.

 

I sat at my table and I looked up now and then and watched her working on her computer and texting through the sun filled window. I was kind of frozen. I wanted to smoke. I wanted to leave. I figured I’d go out to smoke and talk to her if she was free and ignore her if she was busy or acted busy. Then I thought I’d grab my stuff to leave, light a cigarette in front of her and say goodbye. The end.

 

I prefer casual acquaintances these days anyway. Jus as I stood up I saw her stand up and pack her stuff.. Didn’t know what to do. I felt like a stalker if I coincidentally walked out as she was leaving. Was she coming inside to talk to me or say goodbye? Nope.

 

She walked away from her spot outside the coffee shop. All hope was lost. I thought.

 

If I meant anything she would have come in. Oh well.. Fuck her. It got me to write.

 

It was at least safe to go outside. I did. Just as I sat down and lit my cigarette I glanced to the left and saw her at the parking meter. I ignored her. Suddenly she was in front of me talking on her cell phone. She kept walking but looked at me and waved. Was it a wave goodbye? Wave hello again? A wait a minute wave? She stood about 10 feet from me on the edge of the side walk. I was too consumed with myself and what could happen I couldn’t hear her conversation.

 

I imagined her telling someone “ I met this cute guy and we talked a lot. He’s nice but I think he’s stalking me now. Staring at me right now.”

 

I waited to finish my cigarette and a small skinny body appeared in from of me. It was a guy I know and haven’t talked to in a long time. I tried to focus on talking to him as I finished my cigarette still glancing at my fleeting coffee shop desire.

 

I followed him back in the shop and took my seat. I forgot about her fast. I guess it was what it was. Another person that entertained me for few minutes in between my coffee shop hanging out and writing.  Goodbye young lady. Goodbye for now.

 

Oh wait who’s that girl? I gotta go. . .


Live Book Reading from Yellow Socks Video

April 29, 2011

Now you can read it yourself. Just click the Yellow Socks cover pic.


Sarah Silverman and Cheese

January 13, 2011

A blog a wrote last year that never made it here.

I just watched a movie called I Want Someone to Eat Cheese With starring Jeff Garlin from Curb Your Enthusiasm and Sarah Silverman. I rented it because I found a clip on YouTube with Sarah Silverman in a dressing room trying on underwear. I’ve been a fan of hers for a while and I guess I have an obsession for her. Despite seeing Sarah in her underwear the movie made me a bit depressed. ….

It’s about a 39 year old over weight barely working actor named James that lives with his mother and over eats. He gets dumped by a girl that isn’t really his official girlfriend, He gets dumped by his agent. He eventually gets dumped from his acting jobs one by one. So he comforts himself by eating.

James meets Beth played by Sarah Silverman in an ice cream parlor. She gives him free ice cream and he falls for her. They end up on a really funny and strange date that leads to sex on the second date. James is in love. Beth seems to accept him for who he is and likes him. Things are looking a little better for James so far…..

The next day he shows up at her apartment and rings the bell. A man’s voice answers through the intercom and hangs up. He rings it again and Beth answers and says that she’ll be right down. She answers the door wearing a sheet like she’s just getting out of bed.

James hands her flowers and she didn’t want them. She explains that there is nothing between them and it was a one-night deal. He is surprised to say the least. Then she tells him she just wanted to see what it was like to have sex with a fat guy. He leaves depressed and turns to food again.

The movie gets a little more positive but it hit me hard. I’m over weight. I live with my Mother. I have no writing, acting or any creative job. I haven’t had a girlfriend in over a year. I used to be rejected a lot like the main character. Despite the fact that I’m not like that now, it brings back those feelings. I am James. ….

I hope I didn’t spoil the movie but I don’t think anyone will watch this movie anyway except for the Sarah Silverman perverts like myself who wanted to see her in her underwear. If that’s all you want you don’t have to bother with the movie. You can find the entire scene on YouTube-

 


Catch of the Day

August 10, 2010

“She want’s me”  My friend used to say.

“She just doesn’t know it yet.” He’d say right after.

I’m on a mailing list of a few “pick up artists” sites. I subscribed a long time ago when I thought I needed help meeting women. Well, maybe I did. I just didn’t practice their principles in all of my affairs. Ha. I did need help at times but they didn’t always have the answers. I even read a book called the Game which was more of a good read than a “how to” guide. It was the author’s story of how he got involved at first as research to write a book and he got sucked into the “pick up” scene. Remember that show that ran briefly on VH1, The Pick Up Artist? Mystery, the star of the show was also the central character in the book.  The book takes in the human factors despite the fact that they call it a “game” and the “pick up artists” play these games. The nature of men and women are different and our needs and wants are different. Deep down we are no different than primitive man. We’ve been conditioned to act accordingly to what our society dictates and dating, relationships and sex have become more obscure and difficult as far as communications go. Obviously, my initial interest in the subject wasn’t to learn human behavior but I am interested in that too.

Personally, I’ve been highly successful at times with the opposite sex at times and I’ve had rough patches other times It always depends on my own self worth and self-esteem. When I was young man my self-esteem was based on how much a woman liked me. I had this idealized concept that if all women didn’t think I was attractive then I was no one. I was a loser. I grew out of that theory but still had spurts of low self-esteem. Maybe I still do. I just don’t care as much these days.

I still receive these emails from various “pick Up” sites with articles and then they want me to buy something. Sometimes I delete them without reading them sometimes I read them if the subject is catchy. Ha. Catchy. That’s what caught my eye the other day. The subject read “Are You a ‘Catch’ to Women?” I wanted to find out and I opened the email. It was interesting. They defined a “catch” as a “high status” male. A high status male is a man that has his shit together and has many qualities that women desire. Of course that varies depending on the woman.  I sat down and thought about it. I wonder if I am a “catch” to women.

Over all I have to say that I am a “catch”. Not to all women like I fantasized as a young man but in some women’s eyes. More importantly I am a “catch” in my eyes. I can look in the mirror on most days and think or even say out loud “you’re alright, Richy boy.”  Or something like that. Ha. Not to sound conceited or cocky but I do like myself today. I like the way I look, dress, act, and feel on most God given days.

I feel uncomfortable writing it like this for several reasons. Fist of all it might ruin my “self loathing” image that I seem to portray in my writing and spoken word. When I write about my spiritual or mental sufferings they are true human experiences that are only a small part of me. They are not the entire make up of Rich Hillen Jr. I tend to feel more motivated to write when I’m in a bad mood, upset about something or depressed than when I’m happy and confident. Second, I don’t want to come off as cocky. There’s a huge difference between being cocky and being confident yet there is a thin line between them. I don’t think I’m better than anyone. I’m simply aware of my strengths and weaknesses and feel confident most of the time. Also, feel slightly embarrassed to be reading articles from the so-called “pick up artists”. Who wants to admit that? That is one of my strengths and weaknesses. I am honest with what’s on my mind at least when I know what’s going on.

Hopefully, I’ll be the “catch of the day” for you today if not “there’s plenty of fish in the sea”


How to Avoid Life Through Self Absorbtion

July 20, 2010

I used to wish that I was one of those artists that was so self- absorbed that he didn’t give a shit about anything else. Dedicated his every waking minute to his art regardless of the outcome or what anyone thinks. No social life. Not many friends. The one that stayed in and did his craft day after day.

I’ve gone through periods of my life where I’ve been able to do that. I was able to focus on my art and that was it but there was always an inherent need to be loved and liked especially by women. There was a time that my entire identity was based on how much I was loved in a relationship. As I got older and more confident in myself I started to go through periods of working and caring only about my art, writing or music. It’s when I feel my best. Alone and creating.

I think that’s why I have been so anti-social lately. All I want to do is write, edit, create and promote. I hardly want to leave the house or look for a job or date or have sex or anything except write, write and write. Create, create and create. What’s really odd is that the loneliness is there. My need to be loved is there. I want to fall in love and date but instead of allowing myself to feel it I repress it and keep moving on my projects. My projects are my self-absorbed escape from my true feelings. I’ve turned my fear of rejection and loneliness into productive creativity.

Almost everyday I force myself out to a meeting so I maintain some sort of connection with the world besides the online community that only aids my anti-social behavior. It also keeps me grounded, spiritual and away from a drink or drugs. I try and keep as close as I can to my God as I can even when I am alone creating. Especially when I am alone creating.

Despite my fears of rejection, abandonment, loneliness and looking for employment I am quite happy with my life because I am using them to fuel my creativity. Hmmm. I guess I’m not entirely avoiding these feelings. I know that they are there. I’ve just taken the wasted energy worrying and put it into something positive. Life is good even when it’s bad.


The Future is Today or Get a Job

July 6, 2010

Yep. It’ll be six weeks tomorrow since I was fired. Let go. Freed. It’s been up and don since. Sometimes I am so relaxed and productive writing and putting my books together and other times it’s been depressing. I collect unemployment but not much since I didn’t technically make much on my checks. I’ve been living off of my savings but it’s going fast. Living with my mother doesn’t help much either. She doesn’t nag but there is an unsaid pressure for me to be looking for a job. A job. I don’t really want a job but all of this free time for an unorganized person like me can be hell sometimes. I get filled with anxiety and depression from the unsaid pressure and from being un focused. I want to write and that’s it.

Even dating has fallen to the bottom of my list. As I’ve said many times before I am a flake with dating and even my relationship with my friends. It’s become worse since I’ve become unemployed. I don’t want to do anything except write and make videos with the occasional half assed job hunt thrown in here and there.

The few times that I make the effort to sit down and think about what I want to do with my life I come to the same decision. I want to write, I want to make a living from writing. It’s possible but I there’s a long road of rejection and waiting first. I have to keep going at it. Write everyday. Try and get published every day.

I have so many connections to get into the writing field but it’s writing articles and reviews. This isn’t my strong point yet. I usually write journal or blog style or fiction and poetry. I tried writing reviews before and it ended up being stories about my experience with the movie, live band or cd. It worked for Hunter S Thompson in many of his writings so who knows?

As far as jobs go I’ve been keeping my ear out and talking to people I know because you can get the better jobs through word of mouth. That’s how I got my last 3 or 4 jobs. I use the word kob rather than career because that’s all they were. Telemarketing, retail and food service.

I had an opportunity last week that sounded great. I ran into someone I know that works at a pretty big alcohol and drug rehabilitation center. It hit me that I could really get a lot out of doing that. I’ve considered it in the past and it hit me that I should try and get into it. I asked her how I could get into counseling. She replied with enthusiasm. She said that they are always looking for new people. The pay is average but the benefits are great and you get raises often. The only requirement is to be 2 years sober. Shit. I’m 3 months short. She said to mention her name and maybe it wouldn’t be a problem.

I was nervous and excited about calling the next day. I called and talked to the woman in charge and she said that they couldn’t bend on it. I had to have 2 years sober. She said to call back in October. I was disappointed but I figured it was God’s will so I went back to my part-time online surveys and writing.

Everyone I told about this said that I should have lied. It was only 3 months. Besides I had 16 years sober before my relapse in 2008. I didn’t bother mentioning that to the lady hiring because that could be considered a bad thing. How could I in good conscience lie about my sobriety time so I can get a job working with alcoholics teaching them honesty? It made no sense to me.

Now I have to find a “job” to hold me over hoping that they will still be hiring in October.  At least the experience gave me an idea of what I want to do besides write. Meanwhile, I’m going to give it to God and take one day at a time like I’ve been taught. It worked today.


%d bloggers like this: