Wednesday, May 11, 2011

A vent.

I stare at this blinking cursor, cursing how it is synchronizing to my heart beat.  Someone’s heart just stopped.  Yet, the cursor still blinks.  “I have so much trouble on my mind, here’s your ticket to watch this writer get wicked.” Yeah Chuck I am biting your rhymes, cause something in gnawing away at me inside. It’s the ticking of the clock. The pulse of the cursor, the pulse I feel in me.
            Time: A non-spatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.  I think often about the events in my life that are out of my control. How thing might have been different or how might have been different by events that evolved around me.  I have no one to talk to, no shoulder to moisten with the water not from the ground or the sky, I have myself and no one else. So man up and hold it in! I will vent in my own way. I want to use my fists instead my fingers will do.
            The first event which shaped my life was a war. Funny to think people dying would be the only reason you exist at all. Men killing men, expelling and displacing populations and then relocation; reproduction continues, but is it a twisted off shoot of a normal timeline? Had my Grandfather not been tortured and killed by the Soviets and my father become a freedom fighter, I would not be. He would have been a normal farmer grown up and married a large breasted Hungarian woman and had babies. That would have been too simple, life is chaos and when you think about so are we.
            My grandfather was a State police trooper. I never knew him, but was told he was a respected well-like-gentlemen. After his death and the desolation of the people of Hungary, life for them changed. I think this changed my father’s outlook on life in which skewed his view of the family unit as a whole. So when he fled and became a citizen of the United States, he was jaded and maybe not the same person he would have been.
            He met my mother had children and was an alcoholic-womanizing-asshole from the accounts I heard. There were a lot of times that he was gone out of my life, but I accepted him back and we tried to have a normal relationship. I question if seeing all the death and destruction altered his mind and reality. Would he have been the same farmer growing up in peace, maybe? But chaos stepped in and gave life’s nipple a bit of a twist.
            He died thousands of miles away with a wife twenty years younger than him with no immediate family around him for his funeral. He died as he lived, distant and not there for the ones he should have been supporting and loving. Three days notice and fifteen hundred dollar airfare each kept us from attending. Hell I could not even get a passport in that amount of time.  Another male figure in my blood line passes without even a notice from my family or friends.  At least he has the family crypt to be buried in, he spruced It up nice when he found out he had terminal lung cancer and told no one. Well at least not me.
            Information: Knowledge of specific events or situations that has been gathered or received by communication; intelligence or news. Who decides in a family what information is disseminated to whom? Did I miss the memo? Is it because I am the youngest and couldn’t handle the truth? You find things out later in life. Stories, mixed with dreams, dressed up with lies, the ties that bind. Secrets that when you want to examine them you later in life you find the truth. Examples: When my mother slammed her VW bug into a tree after leaving the bar drunk working as a barmaid, I was told she slid on leaves. When I was told that my step father slipped on ice and had a huge slit in his belly I believed it. He was stabbed working at as a bouncer at a bar, same bar I don’t know. But how many more lies await me? They pile up and weigh you down. Was my father such a bad person? I have only on perceptional side of the story. Did I seethe and hate a person, yet accept him only to have him scurry off and die for nothing? Was my inner self sending a message that maybe he was not as bad as described? Being raised by mostly women while fearing the only male figure in my life has changed the person I might have been as well.
            Fear: A feeling of disquiet or apprehension.  Fear is not a factor anymore. I have faced mine. I confronted it at seventeen and knocked it on its ass. Since then I fear no beast or man. Pain is pain, you heal. Experience teaches you how to deal. But then when you think what could have been or not been, you’re digging too much. How deep must you bury the past?  Well I have my miners hat on, let’s find out.
            Being raise by mostly women gave me a unique aspect on the how the female mind works. I might have not had the macho exterior handed down from generation to generation in the male gender. I had the,”I am an outsider.” mentality and the company of women.  Maybe that is why I feel the need to please and comfort more than the need to hoard such feelings for myself.  The bravado that might have served me well in my youth did not develop until a later time when I found my inner self.  I was not a macho man youth, a quiet sensitive type. The type girls want as friends and not lovers.
            I found my stride in my twenties. The studies and learning bore fruit in my life both by making friends and lovers. I was the ear to whisper in and the shoulder to cry on for a while. That act got old real fast. I would see total ass wholes treating women disgracefully and the women would run back in a minute to these dirt bags.  Then I learned a powerful lesson, one I keep to myself; for now.
            Being surrounded by anger creates anger. Energy is release unbeknown to the source which corrupts the environment in which it exists. Be it good or bad energy. You see this everyday in every person you come across. We are a bunch of bumper cars bouncing of each other’s existence. Be it an unruly client and or customer to the guy that cut you off and gave you the finger. He just exchanged energy with you. This is the chaos in which humans exist. Families have this transfer on a daily and minute to minute basis. Other exchanges occur randomly based upon your location and the amount of time spent interacting with others. Misanthropic people are everywhere. Most times I can deal and I am a happy go lucky person who enjoys life to the fullest, other times I am a gun waiting to go off.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The power of words....

            *Disclaimer: This is certainly going to offend some people. You may laugh, get angry, want to sue (I am broke so good luck with that) or hunt me down and hurt me(good luck with that also), But that being said I am going to get some things off my mind and if you don’t like it well please take the time to go fuck a duck.  Get the ducks permission first.  I know they don’t speak well, but they will give you a look, you know the look.

            First I would like to talk about elementary grade children being taught about transgenders and homosexual marriages. I do not care what your preference for a partner may be. I just believe let children be children. Some want to impose this ideology on minds that are not ready to comprehend it. They barely know what sex is; you have an “inny” and I have an “outy.”  They all want to marry each other’s favorite person any way, the opposite parent to which the gender they are. Not to get Freudian or anything like that. My daughter wants to marry me. I tell her I did it once and never again.
            If you talk against the indoctrination of information that opposes your view most times you are chastised. The people that oppose these proposals sometime come at you with the phrase “Institution of marriage.” Yeah marriage can lead you to be institutionalized.  Most marriages fail for one reason or another.  If a man wants to marry a man or a woman a woman I say go for it. Let them suffer the same as everyone else. If you find someone that you think you can tolerate for the rest of your life without police intervention than more power to you.  Let’s talk to children about their minds, bodies and sexual issues at a proper time; not when they still believe in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny.  
            My gay and lesbian friends may agree or disagree. But as a parent I want notification and have to sign something for my child to attend such a meeting or class regarding the above topic. I would not mind if my daughter was to grow up lesbian, most men are fucking jerks. I know this, we can smell our own.  But don’t steal their childhood for your own propagandist needs or will.
            Secondly I would like to dabble in the power of a word. Why do we give words such power?  They are thoughts that are transformed to a written medium to be shared. Some are arbitrary, some abrasive and other just downright funny.  Now with the internet, which few understand we can send words across the globe and into space.  Has the pen now actually more powerful than the sword?  Just look at the news and how social networks are being used to not only communicate with loved ones and long lost friends, but also to shape society and cause social upheaval. So words now have more power than ever in our lifetime.  Word of mouth is a phrase that comes to mind. In the days past it traveled from one mind to another and thus was transformed or mutated based upon the options and memory of that mind. Information was received and then remembered and then communicated to another mind.  Well the human mind is no computer. Yes it can regulate our breathing and non- motor functions.  It can dream and create. It’s the biggest sex organ in your body and hitting it now again with a drug or drink can be a bit fun. But as for information retrieval and storage it is overrated. Most children have infant amnesia. Our brain is growing and creating neurons at such a rate that memory is left in the background. My child barely remembers my father who passed away when she was three. Maybe that is a good thing.
            The internet and computers, laptops, smart phones and blogs are permanent. They remember every keystroke every word and everywhere you roam in the cloud.  There is no degradation of the information being passed down from word of mouth interference. It’s there and it’s instant. So the power of words can shape minds and country and even the world now days. So the Keyboard is mightier than the sword.
            Words that offend or are taboo to say sometimes are unfair. Now if we are all created equal than why do we have to tread lightly on some topics, but can trample on other’s words or ideas. The politically correct movement is coming to an end. The PC pendulum has come to a peak and is now swinging back toward a neutral middle.  
            You cannot say anything bad about Jews or Muslims. My father in law is Jewish and he and his family are the nicest people in the world. I have also worked with a Muslim man closely for years and even learned some Arabic.  Jews have a bad rap. They are being tormented and hated for being industries and prospering. It is similar in the way that people hate American cause we life a good life.  Muslims are getting a bad reputation now days for the actions of a small percentage and the non-action of a larger percentage to stop the violence. Consider the parallels between Muslim Extremists and black on black crime, little is being done on both sides to help heal their respective communities and cast out the ones that are causing the problems. You cannot even draw a picture of Muhammad without being threatened by violence. Yet you can make fun of Jesus and most everyone does. I am not a religious person, I am just pointing out the unfairness of the politically correct view point.
            Now you are looking at that last paragraph just have read it. You see: Jew, Muslim, Black; this guy is a racist. Only knowing that maybe I am white?  The power of a word: well let’s get some more words out there now. “Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger.” OK now were talking. Definition: NIGGER- a black man with a slavery chain around his neck. Definition: NIGGA- a black man with a gold chain on his neck; that’s straight up Tupac’s lyrics.  The true definition is “Stupid or uneducated.” Hell I know more white people that should be called Nigger and not Cracker. “Cracker, Cracker,Cracker,Honky,Cracker;” I have just described a shift change of the Boston Bruins. The later five Niggers’ are the starters in the Patriot’s defense. Now you are truly feeling the power of words.  If you are offended then you are listening and let’s continue.
                I have been in public and have overheard the exchanges of groups of people and the from now on to be known as N-word bounced around left and right.  Mostly by young groups of males and most recently the majority of them were not African-American. Laotian, Latinos, Korean, even some white boys are using it.  It’s an age cultural thing now days. It’s like being bi-sexual as a woman is trendy.  Why is that a word that is forbidden to me? I never owned a slave! My bloodline was trampled and shattered by both Hitler and Stalin. I was lucky even to have been conceived after what my family tree had gone through.  My father was one air attack away from floating down the Danube.  My Hungarian brothers have gone through just as much as the Jews have and the African Americans did during slavery and the civil right movement. But, once again the PC pendulum swung so far and hit the white man in the nuts. I don’t use the N-word nor would I want the right to, but why not me?  We are all equal right?
            We all bleed red; we all feel pain and pleasure.  You can love who you love and if the need to hate is in you than release it and make your life easier. You can voice your opinion and so can I. If we agree than great, if we don’t then demonizing another for their disagreement with your sense of what is right or wrong makes you the true antagonist. I don’t care what god or gods you believe in, that is your business. I don’t care what your sexual preference is; mine is doggy style with a thumb in her ass and a cold beer in my other hand.  You don’t need to know that?  Why do I need to know yours?  Why does my child need to know yours? Can I start a political party based on that preference?  I could use a dog as opposed to a donkey or elephant. A white man is beat up by a group of black males and it’s a mugging, or gang related. A black male is beaten by a group of white men and it’s a hate crime.  Hate is hate. Crime is crime, who decides the difference? Who has that much knowledge and power? God maybe, should it be yours or mine?
            The basis of this diatribe is that we are all humans and all are not perfect. We are all equal and we do not need laws to protect others or the weak anymore.  The Internet allows pictures, words, video and blogs like this to convey information and let the people be the judge. We can see atrocities around the world and then take action accordingly. These are also being beamed into space after bouncing off satellites.  The ones that claim that there is no intelligent life out in space are wrong. There is hardly any here on Earth.  If they hear what we say about each other they are avoiding us like the plaque.  Cause Imagine if we can barely tolerate the small differences in each other never mind a whole different species that is so called sentient.
            Now don’t get me going on Aliens, Illegal or otherwise.  That’s for another blog.

     P.S. Leave the ducks alone!


Saturday, January 29, 2011


The posts here will be ranting, raving, song lyrics, poems, twisted thinking and political banter. Like it or love it or hate it and tell me to shove it. Just a place to put thoughts and older writings I am finding everywhere on old storage devices and even typed pages which I shall scan and post. Well I hope you enjoy your stay.



My back hurts so much lately I believe I am growing wings.
Everything I caress splits my soul and makes it sting.
They cannot hear my voice unless I sing.
Oh, I have felt like flying but please.
Discipline denies me that ease.
Savior do I have a disease?


I am an actor, you are an actress.
Truthfully, lately I am a mess.
I am a true friend, and a more worthy foe.
Cross me and I will get darker than Poe.
Breathe the air and feel the cool breeze.
It’s clean, is it strange that I cough and I wheeze.
Let me make you laugh and make you cry.
All the time I will stare you dead in the eyes.
We all react in different ways.
Viewed from many perspectives on any given day.
Lives are paths crossed over and impacted.
Some are true to the face while others well acted.
It may just be easier to continue the path.
To stop could be fatal, cut too deep a swath.
Life is what you make it and you should live it well.
Cause Heaven is reachable even from Hell.

Open Road


Blinded by a river of highway lights.
Stranded by a life almost denied.
Stories, mixed with dreams, dressed up with lies.
Burnt bridges and too many short goodbyes.

The open road, crashed into my life.
Open road, never stable, never defined
Open road, out of sight is out of mind.

Here, here, here I stand.
Hear, hear, hear this man.

A thin yellow line, divides all that was mine.
Continuing on, without rest, without signs.
All the time lost now is gone, gone forever
Why are lives connected only to be severed?

Tell me why...

The open road, crashed into my life.
Open road, never stable or defined
Open road, out of sight is out of mind.

Here, here, here I stand.
Hear, hear, hear this man.

Mood changes like the weather
Onto the next endeavor

Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me why!
The open road, crashed into my life.
open road, never stable, never defined.
open road, out of sight is out of mind.

Hear, hear, hear this man.
Trying to understand, trying to understand.

Mood changes like the weather.
Onto the next endeavor.