I’m a Controlled Mess

January 26, 2011

I’m a controlled mess. I’m a bomb about to blow yet I have the combination to diffuse. Controlled mess. I stare at the empty walls of my confused living room and it looks away. I dwell in my creative constipated exploding head and my heart pounds. Aches serge through my face. An electrical current. Powerful yet it’s nothing compared to my damaged emotions. When the lightning strikes all I am left with is a limp tired soul determined to grow up and destined to cure my “self imposed mediocrity”.

 

I’m a controlled mess. I toss and turn on the couch, the floor, the bed and even the toilet in a state of high-wired corrosive depression. My dreams and ideas of conquering the world while my body and mind is melting into the present. I’m infected. I’m a controlled mess.

 

Fighting myself is a losing battle sometimes so I stop fighting and go with it. Go with the pain, anguish, and let go. I’m a controlled mess. It works for a time and I fight again and I almost win then I let go. No winners or losers just a controlled mess. Settling for the best  is the worst I could do. I do.

 

Keep me at arms length as I keep you at bay at a distance of mental crookedness. Don’t love me. Don’t even like me. Not until I do. Not until I understand me and what’s going on. What’s going on? I’m a controlled mess.

 

I know the facts. I’ve examined them and read about them and researched them. I know the feelings as they repeat my truth and my lies. Life changes. People change. You change. I change. Can you spare some change for a tired old man with dreams of  . . . .? Something.  Maybe I’ll tell you sometime. Maybe I told you too much. I’m a controlled mess.


Trouacdof

January 21, 2011


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.


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