I got a date!

with 1770 miles of interstate. It took about 24 hours to get here. It looks like it will be 24 to get back. See you on the other side.

Depressing?

So my sister says my blog is too depressing? Wow, can you believe that? Huwhoah! I mean, com'on now.

So she doesn't read it. Yeah, I know. I don't get too many visitors but that's okay. I have been looking through what I have written and it is pretty neat - even if it is depressing. This is the longest I have ever done a journal. And anonymously if somebody wants to read it who cares. It's out there for the big Guy and everybody to see.

So I drive to Atlanta. It is almost 2000 miles from where I live. The reason I came out here is to see my dad and her as well. But, ya know, I am two weeks off a divorce. And, Hey! it's christmas, ho, ho, ho, ha, ha, ha, and all that stuff. Time to be close with loved ones and so on and so forth.

I am really trying not to be cynical. I mean I am. Yes I want to spend the time with loved ones, you know like my dad, sister, and brother in law and even my neices if I can fit it in. However, I am not in the mood for big "happy" family get togethers. Yes I do say happy cynically. I am sure many people can relate! In fact, I just read a post about a "happy" family get together.

Anyway, I am about 200 miles out and she lays it on me that she has another family living here at the house. Okay, well that's not so bad accept for the fact that the husband guy person, ribbed the shit out of me about my "problem." two years ago when my wife, kids, and family were out here. This guy was also party dude cigarette in one hand six pack in the other. Doesn't bother to take the can of beer out of the six pack ring. This is right out of the movie "Vacation." This is two years ago. I did not peg the guy for being a "family man" ya know?

Not that I know how to deal with that kind of thing now, but back then, there is no way I could deal with it. And it showed. I said something stupid to my sister. I was making fun of her or something like that. My brother-in-law called me on it. The wave of shame swept over me like something that really sweeps over stuff. And then the anger and then the rage and then blamo - another christmas down the toilet.

So, two weeks on the heals of a divorce, christmas time, and cousin Eddie waiting for me at the homestead. One two hundred miles miles out she tells me, oh yeah, by the way. . .

Gravitational Tug

Escaped the gravitational tug I encountered on the way out here. The tug comes from a variety of establishments that advertise along I-40. It is awful that the tug is there. I guess I am not there yet.

I had a dream

Had a dream last night, of course it was about my wife okay ex-fucking-wife. I was invited to a party at her friends' "chris and sara's" They lived in this big glitzy house In the dream the third floor of their house was a complete library. I am sure this is something to which they aspire. Every one was dressed in black and maroon. (maroon tops with black pants) Most people didn't know me. In fact, I never saw chris or sara (When I make amends to them, will I have to say that I am sorry for never capitalizing the first letters of their names when defaming them when writing about them? I don't like them very much. They reciprocate the same sentiment I am sure.) Any way at one point we were in this gargantuan palace like livingroom. (chris and sara aspire to have things and things that are status symbols like mercedies benz, big houses, kids going to not necessarily good schools but prestigious schools, you know? all that kind of crap. I am, have been, probably will be guilty of that too. I just hope not as much.) Eminence Front it's a put on. Listening to this as I write. Hey is this a randomn stream of consciousness or what!?

Anyway, as I said we're all dressed in black and marroon and get this!, I'm wearin' my hat, my german bavarian fadora type hat and I am kickin' ass and taken' names if one is capable of doing that in recovery mode. I am confident. I am adult. I am REAL.

So we're in the palacial livingroom and sitting on the floor in kind of a circle in our bare feet. Ronda is there. She is somewhere in the circle but I don't see her, but in my dream I just know she is there. The circle is kind of tight. There is a woman. She's a knockout. She completely reaks with sexual,. . . sexual, . . . sexual something,. . .sexual energy that's it. Her sexual energy fills the room. She sits across from me. And it was like I was willing her to make a pass at me. (This is so not me. I hide from women like this. They terrify me.) She moves closer to the center of the circle and then right out in front of God and everybody she takes her feet and starts rubbing mine and then!...... and then!..... she starts moving her feet up one of my pant legs. This is killer for me. If a woman were to do this to me I would be dead meat. This is kind of like superman's kryptonite. I am not putty in her hands; I am liquid in her hands - well a kind of viscous liquid like honey or syrup.

The next thing she and I are in a bath tub - no water though? Is that wierd or what? I mean this dream was kind of making some sense up to this point. We do all the things I think I would like to do when in this type of situation of which I have never been. There is nothing of graphic nature in the dream. Just knowledge of.

After the act (typical after sex scene but in empty bath tub) this beautiful woman starts telling me all the things she feels are wrong with her. At that point in the dream I see that she is an older woman around my age. Her signs of age show but she is still stunning. In fact in the dream I remember thinking that these traits of which she talked made her even more attractive. These things made her real! I love real and can fall in love with real. (I think.)

I am back at the chris and sara mansion. R- is there. I see her. we talk. I forget what she said right now but it was something inflamitory. It could have been that I saw her being intimate with chris. Chris is kind of like my Lex Luther (superman's arch enemy) I don't think it had anything to do with the "other woman" although at this point in the dream I remember thinking about what had just happened with the other woman and feeling real good about.

And then, and here is where the dream becomes a nightmare, I say to her, "That's right R-. That's right, Build that resentment. Nurture it. Treat it like a garden. Work in it like you would work in a garden. Grow it. Spread fertilizer on it as necessary. And then, after a long hard day in your garden of resentment, why don't you sit down and crack open a nice cold one. Okay, maybe you are too good for that, how 'bout uncorking vintage bottle of chianti. I mean after all you deserve it. Oh, and also you should probably have a cigarette." and then I yell, "You're a fucking alcoholic just like your fucking mother you're gonna die just like your mother. You know that, don't you!" I could see her trying to hide a bottle of wine that she had. And she was pissed. Her face was red.

I remember leaving donned in black hat, maroon shirt. black pants and black shoes.

Then I woke up. I felt awful. I almost felt sick to my stomach. I took a shower, tried to do some things prior to going to work, failed at all of those things and then got in the car and went to work.

Whoa! Dude! Farout. Tripindicular you might be thinking to yourself. Well, I am thinking that to myself. It is funny as I started writing about it I kept remembering more and more detail.

Good morning or well Afternoon

When I came into work this morning it was a sweltering 9 degrees F. I could barely hold the steering wheel because it was so cold. When I went out for lunch the temperature had risen sufficiently that I needed to use airconditioning or drive with the windows down. After a snow here instead of pea gravel on the roads, they use volcanoe cinder gravel which turns into cinder dust. I opted for airconditioning.

I finally had to do it. I broke down and got new shoes for 15 bucks at walmart to replace the shoes I bought on line that were supposed to be double EE for wide feet for about 74 bucks. However, these shoes appearently went the other way as in narrow. I have worn the shoes for about five months only to realize that they just cut off ciculation to my feet. My feet are squished and frozen.

Against the voice in my head, I bought new shoes today. The voice in my head is that of my new ex-wife This voice also comes with an image. The image and voice are that of her giving me a stern look and saying, "I told you not to buy clothing on the web. Look how much money you just wasted!"

Yup she was right. I guess some of this comes from pride as well but I still see her furrowed brows accenuating her frown of disapproval of the terrible awful thing that just happened. I had to buy new fucking shoes again! I am not married to her anymore.

Thank you God and so it is!

I just got in from a 700 mile (actually 1400 round trip) drive to Denver to see my boys. It was a good time. I slept in my truck on the way there and then on the way back. It was better than I thought.

I really like driving for some reason. It is really quite therapeutic. I do a lot of thinking and sorting. Good time to connect with God.

8:17 am Fryday

Took some aspirin, took last two sinus tablets that I got in Deutschland, just about done with my coffee. All drugged up and ready to work!

1:30 Thursday.

At one thirty in the afternoon last thursday my divorce hearing began. At 1:49 am, exactly 65 days, and 3 hours to the minute after the attack on Pearl Harbor began, the marriage to my wife ended - according to a show I saw on the history channel later that day. Wikipedia say it happen at 7:53 am Hawia'i local time which is 10:53 our local time - instead of 7:49/10:49.

I don't think there is a bit of significance to that 65 years and 3 hours. As I was writing the preceding sentence, it occured to me that there is no significance to that divorce hearing (my marriage ending.). Wow! There is no significance to it. Now there's a thought.

There is significance to the night of Nov. 22, '05 which resulted in what took place in my life on Dec. 7th, 2006.

Four in the Mourning

I got home from dinner with some friends. It's cold on the hill right now. It doesn't get much above 20 degrees these days. It seems colder and cold has a real "bite" to it this year for some reason. I laid down on my bed and played my guitar until I drifted into sleep. Just as I was drifting off I woke up with a jerk and took my guitar off my chest and put it to the side.

Now, I was awake again. This is the problem with using the guitar to put me to sleep at night. I grabbed the guitar by the neck again and swung it back over my chest. I started playing the last two strings of "D" and then e minor in kind of a picking and strumming alternating pattern. The sound of the chord progression and the syncopation of the picking and the strumming produced a kind of sad yet matter of fact kind of atmosphere. As in, "This is the way it has to be, everything must come to an end." sort of thing.

As I listened to the sound I was making, a vision, I think one put there by my higher power, of my wife asleep, peacefully asleep back in Boulder came to my head. I seemed explode in tears. I still kept them bottled up. My chest heaved in and out and my closed eyes filled with tears as I push air out my nose. I could feel the guitar bounce up and down on my chest as I continued playing my little song.

The wave of grief passed and I began to feel drowsy. I put the guitar back to the side and this time was able to go to sleep. I went through the usual course of dreams where I am in my underware at work and then I awoke to kind of a happy day. The sun was shinning. We seemed to be leaving for somewhere. I don't know where though. My wife was there except she didn't look like my wife. We were in kind of a living room type of area similar to an first floor appartment type living room with a sliding glass door.

In addition to leaving, she was getting ready for something and I was too. All of the sudden there was a really loud crack of thunder. She quickly opened up the sliding glass door and ran outside as if she was running to the car. The rain fell in really big dropplets and immediately soaked her close. She quickly took off her top revealing a black kind of blouse thing.

Then, as if in a video tape that had been spliced, all the rain had stopped and the she had a black dress; a casual black dress. She was still in her blouse and baggie pants that she had been wearing but she had this dress and started to put it on. As it came down over her head before it came to hang from her shoulders could tell she was going to look very good in it.

Somebody asked her something and it was either the person asking the question or the or it was in her response but I heard the word "date". I had to ask! "What did you say? Are you going on a date?"

Her response was clear and in a kind of "No duh!" replay, she said, Yeah! Of course! Why? And I realized what we were getting ready for and where we were going. We were getting ready for our divorce and we were going to go to it like it was some type of formal event like a . . .
"Wedding!" I then knew inside this dream I was in that we were going to go to this thing together but we were not going to leave together.

I remember her saying, "Yes, I met your "Ref." as in referee. At the time, in the dream, I think I was thinking coach. But she clearly said "Ref"?????

Anyway, she said "Yes, I met your "Ref." and we kind of hit it off and we are going on date. Then she turned, looked at me and said, "Nya Nya! Hey! we're not going to be married after this!"

I woke up breathing heavy. I started to process what had just happened and started to understand it to be a dream. I felt a little relieved but still shaken - really shaken.

I grabbed the guitar by the neck swung it back over my chest and started to play my little song again and drifted back to sleep.

Don't Give Up.

Trying to awake out of the dream

For the ten days I was there, the days and then the nights seemed to slip in and out, behind and in front of one another like a dream. The dark of night seemed to interleave the afternoon and the dream of night replaced the dream of day. In the morning the opposite. Night and day danced elegantly around my head like a ballerina in a music box. Each step of this whirling dance carefully choreographed precisely ot the rythmn of the arriving and departing trains at the Hauptbahnhof.

Coming out of the dream and back into the reality of my life reminds me of what it was like trying to get on an escallator as a little boy - walking up to it and trying really hard to synchronize the gate of my walk to the emerging steps of the escallator. It was always awkward and clumsy. I still have to pay a great deal of attention so I don't biff it.

I still seemed to be lost in that world.

I want to go back.

Retrieving the lost songs

After Thanksgiving a year ago, it occurred to me that I lost a great deal of music in the intervening time between 1990 and 2005. This is music that I had acquired during my time with her. Memories that seemed to be produced by the music have an indelible tag to her. Simply put, music that I once loved is now painful to listen to.

One such piece of music is called Love on a Real Train by Tangerine Dream. This music was used in the film Risky Business. I finally found this tune while I was with her around 1995. I played this piece all over Germany while on the Bahn. The piece has taken on a new memory. The association with her; expunged.

I gotta tell ya, I love the trains in Germany!



I have a lot of video of the traveling by train. These trains run really smooth. When they come into the station you can't even hear the wheels on the rails. When they are going all out they run about 170 Km/hr or 105 mph There are a lot of trains that run faster, but still, 105 mph for a passenger train is really cookin'!

And I'm back!

It was a jamb packed trip. I started my journey back at 4:30 AM 27TH and got home at 6:30 am (Berlin time) on the 28th. Now I can't sleep

Oh yeah, and the other thing

My appetite is way off. Typically this happens when I get severely depressed. The only real change that has seemed to happen is that I started taking something to help me sleep.

It really does that, help me sleep that is. I hope it is the increased sleep and not the pill that is doing this, that is, if this is real.

A bit un-nerved?

I feel quite good today. I am not sure why this is. But when I feel this good it is like riding a wave (surfing). I'll be falling any second I just don't know when

6 times and then 5

Six times in one night. Between the hours of 11:00 pm and 5 am. Then it was 5 times the following 24 hours. Yes, I know exactly what you mean. My urge was driven by a general feeling of diconnectedness with the world or with the HP (not hewlett packard) and anxiety about finances and a little about my job - which, of course, is where I am writing this.

I think what you talk about when you say you hear or see a person's name, is what I would call a "trigger." For me, it is not really about the person but rather it is really the anxiety and disconnectedness and the need to be relieved from these for a little while.

I actually went about 2 days without any activity in that area and then last night one time. Since Sunday I have been taking something to help me sleep. This knocks out a huge chunk of time that this activity normally happens. Last night it took a really long time and it really didn't work. I did it in spite of the sleep aid. I actually forced myself to stay awake to complete the mission.

I think this is God's way of saying,"No No No, you are not going to get rid of this thing - this activity with a pill, pal! You need to work on the disconnectedness and your fears."

I hate this addiction. I truely hate it! Sometimes I would rather be dead.

We been dancin' with . . . (For me it is not Mr. Brownstone.)
He's been knockin'
He won't leave me alone
No, no ,no, he won't leave me alone
I used ta do a little but a little wouldn't do
So the little got more and more
I just keep tryin' ta get a little better
Said the little better than before
I used ta do a little but a little wouldn't do
So the little got more and more
I just keep tryin' ta get a little better
Said the little better than before

Now I get up around whenever
I used ta get up on time
But that old man he's a real muthafucker
Gonna kick him on down the line

(I am trying to kick him on down the line!)

I wanna fly down over mullholland

I wanna write her name in the sky
I wanna free fall out into nothing
I wanna leave this world for a while

and I'm.....

I like Tom Petty too.

My friend, Bob Sacamento, bought one of those sign's you can get at Sam's Club. You know, the sign for a business that says "Open" You know, the red and blue ones.

Anyway, he takes the sign home, puts it up in his window and when ever he comes home he turns it on. When he leaves his house, he turns it off. The twist here is, is that he doesn't have a business. I mean, what is he "open" for?

I asked him this question and he said he didn't know. He said that he just thought it would be a neat thing to have in his window. He went on to say that he was passing by one of those "U-store it" places, saw the sign in the window that said "Open" and remembered seeing the sign at Sam's club. "I thought I gotta get me one of those things. That guy must have gotten his at Sam's Club. If he got one there, I must be able to get one too. I was worried that you might have to have some kind of license to show the clerk at the check out, but you don't! You just pick up the sign, take it up to the check out, pay for it, and it's yours. "This is great!," he went on to say, "I can be open to if I want!!!"

He tried to get me to get one too. I didn't or rather don't want to. I'm not a very open person myself. He tried and tried to convince me but I wouldn't give in. It seemed as though he was on a personal mission to get me to get one of these things.

Appearently he did make it his mission. A couple days later I come home from work and there is a package on my front door step. Well, it is not my front door step: it is my roommate's or rather housemate's which is really my landlord because I only rent one room in the house. Anyway the package and you probably guessed it by now, was the "Open" sign from Sam's club. Crazy!!

So now I have the "Open" sign from Sam's club. I don't think my landlord would like me putting it up. Plus, I think the neighbors would be a little concerned as well.

One would wonder if I know anyother music than

Peter Gabriel???

Yes, - Jimmy Buffett

This world is full of strange behavior
Every man has to be his own savior
I know I can make it on my own if I try
But I'm searchin' for a great heart
To stand me by
Underneath the American sky
A great heart to stand me by

I'm searching for the spirit of the great heart
To hold and keep me by
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
Under African sky
Sometimes I feel that you barely know me
Sometimes there's so much you can show me

There's a highway of stars across the heavens
There's a whispering song of the wind in the grass
There's a rolling thunder across the savannah
A hope and a dream at the edge of the sky
And your life is the story of the wind
Your life is a story like the wind

I'm searching for the spirit of the great heart
To hold and stand me by
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
Under Arizona sky
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
I see the fire in your eyes
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
That beats my name inside
sometimes I feel that you really know me
Sometimes there's so much you can show me

I'm searching for the spirit of the great heart
To hold and stand me by
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
Under Arizona sky
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
I see the fire in your eyes
I'm searchin' for the spirit of the great heart
That beats my name inside
Sometimes I feel you really know me
Sometimes there's so much you can show me

Guk a 'mzimba
Sala 'nhliziyo

Games Without Frontiers

Hans plays with Lotte, Lotte plays with Jane
Jane plays with Willi, Willi is happy again
Suki plays with Leo, Sacha plays with Britt
Adolf builds a bonfire, Enrico plays with it

Hans spielt MIT Lotte, Lotte spielt MIT Jane
Jane spielt MIT Willi, Willi ist wieder froh
Suki spielt MIT Löwe, Sacha spielt MIT Britt
Adolf zuendet Buecher, Enrico macht Auch MIT


-Whistling tunes we hide in the dunes by the seaside
-Whistling tunes we're kissing baboons in the jungle

- krieg uns - besieg uns - wir jagen durch das Seegras
- krieg uns - besieg uns - Piss auf Würfel Fratzen im Dschungel


It's a knockout
BIS zum KNOCKOUT


If looks could kill, they probably will
In games without frontiers-war without tears
Games without frontiers-war without tears

Koennten Blicke toeten, waert ihr floeten
Krieg Verwirrungmann schwaenzen - SPIEL OHNE GRENZEN
Koennten Blicke toeten, waert ihr floeten
Krieg Verwirrungmann schwaenzen - SPIEL OHNE GRENZEN
Krieg Verwirrungmann schwaenzen - SPIEL OHNE GRENZEN

My Trip this Weekend

Here is another song that seems to hit the mark.
I think this is one of the things that she really hates about me. This thing I have with music.

Never the less, there was something about the highway, something about the rain, and something about how the music put it all together. It was like the music was the glue that held the memories of the events of the weekend, the rain, the gray, the highway, the spray from the
trucks, the gloominess of it all together. It seemed to make it whole, make it real. As I drove back to Arizona, I kept thinking of the look on the children's faces the sadness, the grayness of the day, the autumn.

And at some point I knew on that Saturday that I had seen all I wanted to see that day. The past truely is dead but my brain wants to keep it alive. It seems that every little realization, every little glimpse of this fact, I go into emotional convulsions of crying. Sometimes it's not
crying but anger towards her. I think of her as a really cold ruthless bitch like her sister.
Mostly though it is the crying.

I cried and screamed in this pain last night.

More on Lambasted

Well, as I was saying.

I realized a couple of things out of this exchange. The first is that I really wanted to get out of there at that time. I just wanted to get up and leave. I went through a moment of rage where I threatened to leave. (This is key) My threatening to leave really pissed off the group therapist. (As an aside, I question if this is an appropriate response for a group therapist.) After I saw her flare up I put a lid on my flames.

For the rest of the group I just sat in it. I was really just sitting in my own shit - this would be the best description. I felt very uncomfortable. As soon as group was over I told the group leader/therapist that I didn't want to hug which is how we end group. I did not talk to anyone. I just got up an left as inconspiquously as I could.

After I left I kinda made up my mind not to go back. In addition, I did not want to go to any of the other meetings I attend. I just wanted to hole up, be alone. That's what made me think of Edie Brickell's song, "Circle".

This kind of answers a lot of questions for me.

It was drilled into my head when I was a kid that I was worthless and unless I made myself useful to my Dad or anybody else then I did not deserve to live. In my family we lived by the golden rule which was:

One "awe shit" is equal to one thousand atta boys.

I think I got about 2 or three atta boys. I have a real "atta-boy" defecit. According to some people I really don't have much of an excuse to be living.

I percieve every bit of negative or neutral interaction with other people as directly meaning that they would prefer I not exist. This is pretty big stuff actually. Actually most people don't care. And the ones that do care, care that I exist. This is the truth - a truth I find difficult to believe with any conviction most of the time.

Circle

Finally figured out what this song means and why I identified with it so much.

Me, I'm a part of your circle of friends
and we
notice you don't come around
Me, I think it all depends on you touching ground with us.

But, I quit.
I give up.
Nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems.
And I quit.
I give up.
Nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems.

And being alone is the best way to be.
When I'm by myself it's the best way to be.
When I'm all alone it's the best way to be.
When I'm by myself nobody else can say goodbye.

Everything is temporary anyway.
When the streets are wet -- the color slip into the sky.
But I don't know why that means you and I are- that means you and....

I quit --
I give up.
Nothin's good enough for anybody else it seems.
But I quit.
I give up.
Nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems.

And being alone is the best way to be.
When I'm by myself it's the best way to be.
When I'm all alone it's the best way to be.
When I'm by myself nobody else can say...

Me, I'm a part of your circle of friends
and we
notice you don't come around.

Ha la la la la la la

Lambasted

I got lambasted at group last night.

Actually there is this possibility that nobody there actually lambasted me. (well maybe one person actually did)

It started when I missed or actually decided not to go to group last week. Appearently somebody got really pissed because lil' ol' me did not show up. There was another person that did not show up as well. So the issue was raised to a higher level. She had a lot of work to do and she needed us there.

First of all, Wow!, I am that fucking important. - am I????

When we started group I appologized for missing the previous week and told the group that I was placing my needs above the group's needs and I would try not to do that again. Appearently, that was not good enough. It came up as a group business issue.

I have more on this and will write about it later.

The Snow Globe

Someone told me that this is what has happened to me.

Dude!

They not only shook your snow globe, they rearranged the village inside!

I love that analogy!!!!

The Smell

For some reason it was the smell. The smell! I can still actually conjure up the smell in my mind. It was the smell like that of a package of bandaids. That smell is typical of any hospital and was probably no stronger than the smell of anyother hospital but at that time and for those two days it was extremely intense.

I see my pants. I see my belt being removed. I see my shoe laces being taken. My wallet, my keys, my meds, all that was left underwear, shoes, socks, pants, and my Led Zeppelin T-shirth

I then feel the panic. I feel the confusion. I feel the intense burning regret. The shame I feel is beyond description.
Then I feel. . .

The anger and the hatred. The almighty powerful hatred. It makes my head tingle. I feel the tingling in my temples. I feel like my hair is raising on end. I feel the adrenalin. My hatred for her soars.

I never want to see her fucking wretched face again as long as I live.

The anger burns intense and it burns deep. It is the fire that fuels my recovery. It is also the fire that will hinder my recovery. More importantly it is the fire that will hinder my recovery. The best expression of anger and send her direction is to simply recover. Recover and be happy no matter how little I have now.

The smell, . . I can't forget that smell.

Wow!

42 years old and still listening to Zeppelin.

I was in 9th grade when I first listened to Physical Graffiti. I am listening to In the Light and it takes me right back to ninth grade when I was trying out dope which I never really got good at. Sex was my thing.

Urgency

Whenever I have a sense of urgency about something there is a good chance that there is an addiction at work.

Time

42 revolutions about the sun, 309 earth rotations, and 399 thousdanths of one earth rotation completed.

Currently surviving 311th upper meridian transit of 42nd revolution about local star.

Apparently, the mission is not yet complete as I am still living.

This job would be so much easier if I knew what I were doing

Men and Directions!

this is the main reason men don't ask women for directions.

Funny Juicer Commercial

The man flys into a tub of oranges to squeeze the juice out.

Wild Geese

Andy,
Thought I'd send you a copy of this poem I sent to someone else. I
love it. It wraps around me like a warm blanket. Hope you enjoy it
too.
Blessings!
Tara



WILD GEESE by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on you knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
The world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Blessings,
Tara

Roots of Leadership, Management & Supervision

I choose to create the experience of: _____________________ (name of an emotion)

Because I choose to addictively demand:__________________ (a specific outcome or result to a specific situation)

Ken Keyes Jr.

For some reason there is a flood

a flood of memories of November 22nd through the 24th.


Life carries on in the people I meet
In every one that's out on the street
In all the dogs and cats
In the flies and rats
In the rot and the rust
In the ashes and the dust
Life carries on and on and on...
And on Life carries on and on and on...
Life carries on and on and on...
And on Life carries on and on and on...
Just the car that we ride in
The home we reside in
The face that we hide in
The way we are tied in
As life carries on and on and on...
And on Life carries on and on and on...

I am sitting in my office

balling my eyes out.
- over the loss of the dream I thought I was living. Sometimes I wonder if I am just grieving that my life is going bye.

Hey did I tell you

When I got back to work I incessently listened to "I Grieve" by Peter Gabriel. We both liked Peter Gabriel at one point. We even went to see him at McNichols Arena.

Tara,

Here is something interesting that cameto me early this morning and then something else that came to me whiletalking to Patrick.

The first thing is: Gratitude.
When I first heard about the gratitudelist, I thought to myself, "Gee, Oh how nice, that is rignt up there with mother hood and apple pie." Then I thought: "How in the hell is this do goody good bullshit going to help me now that I have been kicked out of my family. I mean what in f*#& do I have to be greatful for anyway?"

Then I heard at an ACOA meeting somebody say nothing feels quite as good as gratitude. My thought was, "What!?"The concept was foreign it just did not make any sense. That was around March or April. Since then I have come to, at the very least, a partial understanding of how good gratitude feels when I truly have it.

This morning when I woke up there was a triggering thought that went through my head. I forget what the thought was but it triggered the following thought, and that is this.

It is very important to have gratitude. It is very important to be grateful. There are quite a number of things, you know, little tid bits of information that are very important like the following: Beware of strangers, Look both ways before crossing the street. Don't stick your tongue in a lamp socket (with the lamp plugged in and turned on of course), If you are going to make it through life you must have gratitude otherwise you will die a miserable death.

The gratitude must be genuine. For instance I am really grateful for the roof over my head, my food, and clothing. I mean I really am. I really feel good because I have those three essential things. I really feel good about this. This is what gratitude is to me. I mean I really really REALLY feel good about my little hovel of a room that I go home to each day.

Anyway I wrote all that to write this: The thought struck me that gratitude is a really important thing. The thought struck me in a very "panicy" way. Like,"Oh my God, I need to have gratitude now!" Kind of like being in Phoenix in the middle of the July and thinking, "I need to remember to NOT leave the baby strapped in the car while I go in to go grocery shopping." It struck me with that level of intensity. I mean really intense. I know I sound nuts but that is how intense the feeling of needing to have graditude was.

The second thing came to me while talking with Patrick and that is this:

When I was a kid I had thoughts or expectations of going to highschool. When I was in high school I had thoughts and expectations of going to college. When I was in college I had thoughts and expectations of getting a job. After I got the job I had thoughts and expectations of having a girl friend. After I had the girl friend I had thoughts and expectations of getting married and having kids, a house, a car, a white picket fence etc.

Then, I got those things. That is asfar as my thoughts and expectations went. That was it . I mean there was the thought of growing old together with Ronda, but for me, my thoughts and expectations seemed to stop right there. They (thoughts and expectations) did not go beyond the house the kids having a steady paying job, car, and white picket fence. (actually we had a spit rail brownish grey stained fence painted according to the covenents of the home owners' association)

I had arrived at the destination. I was there. I made it. Now what? That was around 1995. Now what? What do I do now? I'm here. (keep in mind this is just an analogy) The vision stopped for the most part. I began to just hang out in life. I can remember thinking at that time the following, "Gee, I am just kinda hanging out in life." or"Gee, I've just been hanging out in life for the last several years." I really remember thinking this!

However, I as well as you are one of the chosen ones in a manner of speaking. We were given a nudge to keep on traveling. My nudge finally came in the form of a kick in the ass on November 22nd, 2005. Actually I had been getting nudges to get moving prior to that but those nudges went unheeded. (nudges and kick in the ass free of charge courtesy of my Higher Power of my Understanding.)

So guess what? I did get up of my dead ass and got moving! Well, it turns out that the reason I stopped was I only had a map that covered the area up to the wife, house, car, kids, and brownish grey split rail fence painted according to the covenents of the home owners association. I mean I have looked all over the map to try to figure out where the hell I am but all the terrain around me appears nowhere on the map. The best I can figure is that I am now off the map. All the land marks, road signs I used to use no longer work they aren't around. They have been or are being removed. I suppose I could stop but frankly, I am out in the elements and I don't think I could weather it for very long out here so I need to keep moving.

I keep hearing about somegreat place ahead. People have told me about it. But,as it turns out and as I look around, I am enjoying the scenery - really I am. Plus, I am always wondering, "What is around the next mountain."Some times I wonder if the road ahead is going to head on right up the mountain or go around it. I really can't tell from here. I guess I will keep on moving and find out.

One thing for sure is that I realize I am off the map and even if I wanted to go back and did, the chances are slim to none that I could find my way back there. But I don't want to go back.

The other thing is that now that I don't have the map I need to look for guidance elsewhere. Don't be fooled by misleading signs like, "Guidance Center" I appear to be getting guidance from somewhere. I guess I just need to trust that guidance. In fact, maybe I should just let whoever or whatever is giving me the guidance do the driving as well. I will just go along for the ride.

I thought this was a neat analogy and my EGO really wanted to share it. Kind of like "look at me, lookey what I thought up." This analogy made me feel really good about what I am going through and seems to give me a sense of comfort but more importantly a sense of adventure like this is actually really neat all these experiences are really neat!

By the way you are or have been unwittingly one of my most trusted guides. Probably the most trusted guide I have ever had. You did a wonderful job yesterday. Ireally mean that! I really got a lot out of yesterday. At least for the moment I choose to look at my life as traveling down the road without a map. Seems a bit more fun this way. You're giving excellent directions. I am finding that I seem to go to the really neat places and see the really neat things when I follow your directions. Thanks for the directions.

Andy


Andy,

What a great analogy! Don't have time for a long reply, but I'm so glad for you. You've probably never heard of the "cornucopia center of consciousness." (It's in Living Love.) But you obviously got there when you wrote this e. When I was pretty new in AA (and I despised gratitude mtgs, made me want to throw up) a guy shared "You'd better get gratitude." That got my attention. The part in the big book about the guy who's whistling in the dark is also about that. He pretends everything's ok, but it's not because he's not grateful for his sobriety, and without that he can't hang on to it.

Thanks for the appreciation. I appreciate you, too.

Thinking About Living Love,

Tara

If you had to admit to something, which would you rather admit to?:

a.) Being powerless over Alcohol or
b.) Being powerless over sexual acting out. (sex addiction)

My sponser wants me to believe that my real addiction is alcohol and the sex addiction is not an addiction but an ancilary problem resulting from my alcoholism.

If you had to admit to something, which would you rather admit to?:

a.) Being powerless over Alcohol or
b.) Being powerless over sexual acting out. (sex addiction)

My sponcer wants believes that my real addiction is alcohol and the sex addiction is not an addiction but an ancilary problem resulting from my alcoholism.

This is the book of Floyd

I was named after a hill in Colorado. I no longer live in Colorado and when I go back, which at some point I will; it is going to be exceptionally painful. She was the only love I had ever had until we had our three children. All the stuff I learned as a kid to stay alive caused me to loose her and my children. Now I must start over again.

God help me.

Publicly Humiliated

So yesterday, I had a meeting to discuss a project I along with two other people are working on. A number of my peers were there. My boss was there and the next guy above him was there. At the end of the meeting I and the other two guys were berated in front of everybody in the meeting for not working as a team. I don't beleive any of us felt like we were not working as a team. But that doesn't matter. If it did not appear to him that we were working as a team so be it. The problem is, is being dressed down in front of everybody.

As the day went on, I found myself becoming increasingly pissed off. I also found myself really scratching at my leg. My left upper leg really started to itch bad. Several times I had to go to the bathroom just to itch the shit out of my leg.

By the end of the day, I found myself thinking about what I would like to say at our next meeting. This what I thought:

Just after everybody sits down, I would close the door, then ask, "So does anybody have any ass chewin they would like to do. I would like to get that part of the meeting out of the way first. I mean now is the time to publicly humiliate people if you feel the need to to do it. I mean if it will help you feel better to make another person here feel lower than whale excrement at the bottom of the deepest regions of the seas then now is the time in the meeting that I would like that to take place."

In fact I might even publish a meeting agenda. It might look something like this:

1.) Fuck over other people in meeting in front of peers.
2.) Discuss subject of meeting
3.) Topic 1
4.) Topic 2
5.) etc.

But I am over it now.

Remember:

Foregiveness is the answer

A cruel place

The world feels like a very cruel place today.

Three Meetings

And by the third, I agreed to give her everything.

In that place

It was at this place on this ground that would be the end of the line for one and a half million of them.

I hate the people who did this to them. I hate those people as much if not more than they hated the people they killed here. My hatred for them is fierce. It is ugly, it is vile. It smells like that of a corpse rotting in feces that feeds the maggots that turn into flies. It is putrid and rank this hate that I have for those people.

In the end I am no better or worse than the people that committed the attrocities over 60 years ago. My hatred makes me just like them. No different in anyway. The only difference is that I have not committed any of those attrocities.

I don't want all this hatred burning in me.
It's something from which it's so hard to be free.
And all of the tears that we cry in sorrow or rage
could make any difference or turn back the page.

To that Place

I am going to go there.
I am going to stand on that ground
I am going to where the end of the line was
I am going to stand on that ground
where one and half million people stood
as their lives neared their ends.
And I am going to stand on or right beside
the ground where their lives did end.
I am going to go to witness.
I am going to get as close to that little boy as I can
I will be with that little boy again.
I will hold him and I promise not to leave him.
I was him and he is me.

My Promise to You

I will walk with you through the gate
I will be with you
I will be by your side all the time
You can hold my hand and never let it go
It will always be there.
I will hold you
I will carry you
And when it comes time
I will walk in with you
I will hold you tight
As the tears run down our faces
I will hold you tight
I will never let you go
And as we stand there waiting
I will give you a kiss
and as the showers are turned on
I will hold you tight
I will be with you for eternity.

It's all starting to come back to me now

Like the horrendous macabre nightmare that it was

I was hearded out of the box car like cattle. At the time I wasn't even old enought to know what cattle were. There was no one there with me. Even with all the people all around me, no one was there for me. Into the camp I walked

Freedom from Hatred

In effect: if you have a resentment you want to be free of, if you will pray for the person or the thing you resent then you will be free. If you will ask in prayer for everything you want for yourself to be given to them, you will be free. Ask for their health, their prosperity, there happiness, and you will be free. Even when you don’t really want it for them and your prayers are only words and you don’t mean it, go ahead, and do it anyway. Do it everyday for two weeks and you will find you have come to mean it and to want it for them and you will realize that where you used to feel bitterness and resentment and hatred, you now feel compassionate understanding, and love.

It worked for me then, and it has worked for me many times since, and it will work for me every time I am willing to work it. Sometimes I have to ask first for the willingness, but it too always comes. And because it works for me, it will work for all of us. As another great man says, “The only real freedom a human being can ever know is doing what you ought to do because you wan to do it.”

She stopped coming around

He went another direction.

Years later she tried to find him again but he was gone.

i CAN'T STAND THIS HATRED THAT'S BURNING IN ME

My Rage Overwhelms Me

Here is a guy that never cried

The Essence of Evil

Die Scheidungpapiere

Andy,
Die Scheidungpapiere sind zu Ihnen eingeordnet worden und verschickt worden. Sie sollten sie über die regelmäßige Post empfangen, die zur späten folgenden Woche mittler ist, die Woche von 3. Juli. Sie haben bis 17. Juli durchzuführen, unterzeichnen Sie und bringen Sie die Formen zurück. Ich ließ eine Anzeige mit MJ, hopefully she was able to talk with you before you get this email.
Ich auch benannte MJ und legte ein Telefongespräch für Dienstag, den 11. Juli 12:00 Denver zur Zeit fest. Ich habe zurück nicht von ihr gehört, also weiß ich nicht, wenn dieses auf diesem Datum geschieht. I will check my cell messages while I'm away in case you two decide on a time. -Ronda

I seemed to have lost my zeal for writing

I tried to give blood today

I am not allowed to give blood ever because I got a cornea transplant. Once again I feel like such a looser. Not only did I have a fucked up eye in the first place but now because of it my blood must be rejected by all other people on earth. I have bad blood, man! Actually, it really does make be feel like shit!

You reek with all the things you hate about me

- Myriseabove

Self Esteem

The lyrics I put up yesterday seem to have a comforting affect on me for some reason. I don't quite understand this. They seem to be like an old friend sitting out there to comfort me. I think it is that the message the lyrics deliver are comforting - kind of like when the world is going to hell, I always have the comforting fact that I am a real piece of shit to fall back on.

Boy, I gotta break this one, huh? To think of yourself as a piece of shit is a real dangerous way of thinking. That is to say, I think you are what you think.

For your own good

I remember my Aunt Judy justifying her husband's behavior. Her husband, my dad's brother, is step father to her children. She said that it was for her daughter's own good that my uncle gene ran my 12 year old (at the time) cousin's head through the drywall.

I have a hard time with this one.

My dad was not much different. I wonder why I have low self esteem.

Self Esteem

Madeline

I'm just a nobody 'cause nobody smiles at me
You must be somebody because your friends sell smiles for free

I wish you were lonely because maybe I
wouldn't be You'd feel sorry for that other nobody

And who needs friend when you can come and cry with me
It all depends when your cup is half full of half empty

I'm just a nobody because I like to write and read
You must be somebody because you never talk to me
I wish you were ugly cause I would feel so free
to hold hands and sing with that other nobody

And who needs friends when you can write bad poetry
talk of when love ends the hurt sets in
the faithful art of the lonely

And who needs friends when you can write bad poetry
talk of when love ends the hurt sets in
the faithful art of the lonely

I'm just a nobody I call my own home
You must be somebody because I've never seen you alone
I wish you weren't so loveable when I feel like a cactus tree
who wants to touch the thorns of a hopeless nobody

The Off Spring

La La La La La
La La La La La

I wrote her off for the 10th time today.
Practiced all the things I would say
She came over I lost my nerve
I took her back and made her desert????? (huh???)

I know I'm bein used
It's okay because I like the abuse
I know, she's playin with me.
that's okay cause I got no self esteem!!!!!

Oh way ohhhhhh, yeaaaah yeahhh Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah eahhhh Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah
Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah

We make plans to go out at night
wait til two then I turn out the light
This rejections got me so low
she keeps it up I just might tell her so.

Oh way ohhhhhh, yeaaaah yeahhh Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah eahhhh Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah
Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah

When she's saying, all that she want's only me
Then I wonder why she sleeps with my friends
When she saying, that I'm like a disease
Then I wonder how much more I can spend
Well I guess, I should stick up for myself
But I really think it's better this way
The more you suffer The more
it shows you really care Right? Yeah!

Now I'll relate, this little bit
That happens more than I'd like to admit
Late at night, she knocks on my door
She's drunk again and, looking to score
Now I know, I should say no, but
That's kind of hard when she's ready to go
I may be dumb, but I'm not a dweeb
I'm just a sucker with no self esteem

Oh way ohhhhhh, yeaaaah yeahhh Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah eahhhh Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah
Ohh Ohhhh yeaaaah yeah

When she's saying, all that she want's only me
Then I wonder why she sleeps with my friends
When she's saying, that I'm like a disease
Then I wonder how much more I can spend
Well I guess, I should stick up for myself
But I really think it's better this way
The more you suffer
The more it shows you really care Right? Yeah!

Beck

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey
butane in my veins so i'm outto cut the junkie
with the plastic eyeballs
spray paint the vegetables
dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose
kill the headlights and put it in neutral
stock car flamin' with a loser and the cruise control
baby's in Reno with the vitamin D
got a couple of couches sleep on the
love seat someone keeps sayin' I'm insane to complain about
a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt
don't believe everything that you breathe
you get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve
so shave your face with some mace in the dark
savin' all your food stamps and burnin' down the trailer park

(yo cut it)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
(double-barrel buckshot)
Soy un perdedor
i'm a loser baby,so why don't you kill me?

Forces of evil in a bozo nightmare
banned all the music with a phony gas chamber
'cuz one's got a weasel
and the other's got a flag
one's got on the pole shove the other in a bag
with the rerun shows and the cocaine nose job
the daytime crap with the folksinger slop
he hung himself with a guitar string
slap the turkey neck and it's hangin' on a pigeon wing
you can't write if you can't relate
trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate
and my time is a piece of wax
fallin' on a termite who's chokin' on the splinters

Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
(get crazy with the cheeze whiz)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
(drive-by body pierce)
(yo bring it on down)
soooooooyy....
(I'm a driver I'm a winner things are gonna change I can feel it)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
(I can't believe you)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
[repeat]
(Sprechen sie Deutches, baby)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?
(Know what I'm sayin'?)

I sit in my room

trying not to make anybody else my higher power.

I went down on my bike hard last night. My right arm looks like spoiled hamburger and I can't raise it above my chest. And then my wife tells me she doesn't want me to come up in august to see the children. At this point, I am not sure which hurts more.

I tried to get a hold of Tara and she is not there. I called her three times. I left a message once and called two other times. I sense myself needing her. Danger Danger Will Robinson. Run away Run away. She is not your higher power.

A Clamp Design

The Real Cause of Forest Fires

Peter and the Dragon

All around

The place seems to be burning down!

Alright, Okay,

I love you, bye.

so said the guy to his wife in the cube next to me as he ended his conversation with her. I used to do that with my wife. FUCK! This pain makes it almost impossible to breath sometimes.

I think the word "fuck" can be a most excellent expressive sound. The enunciation of the "eff" sound and the "ck" sound can be most satisfying.

Oh yea, and the "uh" in the middle has that sound of total bewilderment as in "uuuuhhhhhh"

I blink my eyes

and the moment's over. I guess another day has passed.

Do Not Worry

I ain't no bible thumper but I play one on TV. No, I am not a bible thumper. However, I happened upon this and it appealled to me. As opposed to your standard fire and brimstone bullshit.

22Then Jesus said to his disciples: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear.
23Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.
24Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds!
25Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[b]?
26Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
27"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.
28If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!
29And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.
30For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them.

31But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

From the Little Dudes!

It had been 2 weeks since he'd last had anything to eat. The first couple of days he hurt quite a bit. He was really hungry. After that though he started to feel much better almost euphoric. He seemed to have a lot of energy. He seemed to be in better spirits. He was amazed at the agility with which he climbed the cliff.

However, now he was starting to loose it. He looked down from his chest on down to his feet. He was barefoot now. His shoes had completed their disipation in the last several days. They were no longer. All that he had was his shreded pants and underware. As he looked down he saw not an ounce of fat. When he started out he weighed almost 200 lbs. He was only 5'6". He was overweight and felt it. Now as he looked down at his body, he saw nothing but strength and determination. His body no longer seemed like his anymore. It was as if he had been driving an old 1980 chevette and now he was at the throttle of a new Ford Mustang with a V-8 4.6 liter engine. He felt like he had command of 300 Hp at his disposal except now he had no fuel.

He could feel the hunger and he was becoming very lethargic. He looked ahead where he thought the path lead. It certainly appeared to go only one way and that way was down the guantlet. To the left and to the right lay two huge cliffs, neither of of which were scalable - at least not in his condition. Down the center was plush green forest. It was misty and cool but not chilling. The air felt good to him. But he could feel the lack of energy. In the distance he could see smoke and with it hope.

He knew he had to go.

"I'm going," he said. "I have to get going." He was still shaking from the fall. He couldn't believe there was a lake underneath of him. He didn't remember one being there but then he hadn't been paying attention. This seemed to preoccupy him. "Where'd the lake come from? Certainly, I would have noticed it!"

"I've gotta get going. Come along if you want but I've got to get going." he repeated.

"But where are you going?" she asked.

"You know? I haven't given it that much thought." He paused, furrowed his eyebrowes as he looked into the distance and then said, "I am going out of the rain. I need to get out of this fucking rain. Is that alright with you?"

"Well you don't have to get pissy about it!" she snapped back at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm just sick of the rain." He tried to reconcile.

All he could think was that he was terribly lonely and really scared and "Where'd the lake come from?" He had no idea where he was. He had no idea what was going on. But he seemed to be on the path and heading somewhere for a purpose. And so he walked and so she walked with him, back into the mist, back into the rain.

She had lost her tolerance for "pissyness" and left.

"But, wait!" he said.

She disappeared.

"Did it again." he thought. "Did it again. "

I work in the second building from the bottom lower left corner of that building.

I have to say this really scared the shit out of me. When I walked out of the building and saw the plume of smoke towering into the sky it once again made me realize how instantly one's life can change. Relative to what I do for a living, this is the only place I can work in this town - period. I would have to leave the state. There are other places in this state but there is no way in hell I'd live in those places.

The fires are contained, I think. But, they are still active. There were actually three different fires yesterday. One of them happened to be right next to where I work - shown in the pictures.

I used to live in Colorado. A couple of years ago they had a fire called the Hayman fire. (Started near Hayman lake or something like that) As one point the fire was spreading at a rate of a mile a minute or 60 mph, I think. Trees just exploded into flames. Yesterday I saw this happen I tried to ride my bike one way out of here only to find one of the road blocked. I could see the fire at that point and there was a tree by the edge of the road, the whole thing; burst into flames all at once! I couldn't believe what I was looking at.

Then as I rode through town, it was kind of like a ghost town. I went to my therapist's house because we were going to have group therapy but she was packing up her stuff to vacate. The wind was blowing away from her house but she was worried about a wind shift. It kind of disturbed me emmensly. This with all the other crap that is falling down I mean going on in my life.

A really bad day

I am having a really


really



really



bad day.

It's like everything was pulled out from under me. I feel like the coyote just after he runs off the cliff and looks down, but right before he plummets to the canyon floor below. Accept I don't have my sign that says "Help!" or even "Bye!"

I had this dream before I woke up. It was that my wife and I had decided to get back together. We met back at the house and it was as if we were both getting back from taking very long trips. But it seemed like each of us were only gone for maybe a week or so. That was the extent of our seperation. (As I right this I can't stop the tears from dripping down my fucking face onto the keyboard)

We got back and were putting stuff away and she started talking about this guy that she had to call off a date with. She said that she almost had sex with him. They had gone out dancing and drinking to this really nice place. She decided to go to a motel with him. It was her and a friend and then two guys; one of the guys being the one she was going to go to the motel with. The motel turned out to be a really sleazy place so she didn't follow through. She went home instead. Then some how we came back together (have no idea how)

Then the dream turned into her having to tell this guy that she did not want to date him anymore because she had decided to stay with me. She told this guy. I met him. I felt really sorry for this guy and did not feel like I deserved to be back with her. Never-the-less I was still really happy. I was so happy we were back together. And then I woke up. My day has been hell ever since. My thoughts at times are: "I want to just fucking die!!!! I mean I really want to fucking die!!!"

This pain is overwhelming like a flood.

I hope I am done crying for bit - self care complete must get back to work

Out in the middle of the desert where the land swells above 7000 ft. and then shoots skyward to 12,000 ft., is a huge forest of ponderosa pine trees. It is an oasis. It shoots up out of the desert like an island shoots up out of the sea. It is there that they met. She 52; he 42. Neither of them attracted to each other in any particular way other than an immense impenetrable friendship. Neither of them wanting anything from the other except to hear the other’s voice in the dark void through which they walked. Here they found themselves clinging to each other as if they were stranded in the middle of the ocean.

Andy did you hear about this one?
Andy are you locked in the punch?
Andy are you goofin on Elvis, Hey baby?
Are we loosin touch?

Ah, well,

Nothing like burning the shit out of you tongue first thing in the morning with a nice pipeing hot cup of coffee on a day where temps are going to sore into the low 120's.

I've been in this situation with two women now.

My wife and the woman, Mary, before. This song always makes me cry.

Many too Many have stood where I stand
Many more will stand here too
The thing that I find strange is the way
you built me up and knocked me down again

The part was fun but now it's over
Why can't I just leave the stage
Maybe that's because you securely locked me up
and threw away the key

Oh mama please would you find the key
Oh pretty mama please won't you let me go free
I thought I was lucky
I thought that I'd got it made
How could I be so blind

We said good-bye on a corner
That I thought led to the straight.
You set me on a firmly laid and simple course
Then removed the road.

Oh mama,
Please help me find my way.
Oh pretty mama,
Please lead me through the next day.
I thought I was lucky
Oh I thought that I'd got it made.
How could I be so blind? Oh no...


A note on crying men.

No matter which way you slice it, a woman will not want to be with a man that cry's. The first rule of courting for men is, Never, Never, let a woman see you cry! I think that they will tell you, "Oh I think when a man cries it shows strength." and all that crap! But once a man cries in front a woman that woman will never think of him as being a "real" mate for them. All the sudden that man becomes their really good "gay" friend.

The Wind Whispers

Hendrix

After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Footsteps dressed in red
And the wind whispers mary
A broom is drearily sweeping
Up the broken pieces of yesterdays life
Somewhere a queen is weeping
Somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind, it cries mary
The traffic lights, they turn, uh, blue tomorrow
And shine their emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sags down stream
cause the life that lived is,
Is dead
And the wind screams mary
Uh-will the wind ever remember
The names it has blow in the past?
And with this crutch, its old age, and its wisdom
It whispers no, this will be the last
And the wind cries mary

Yes I live in Cube Land

But it is a good kind of cube land. It's not like the typical cold and sterile environment that besets most cubed out office areas

Constant reminders

The guy in cube next to me talks to his wife on the phone from time to time, You know? No big deal. Except when he tells his wife that he loves her in that kind of more "intimate" tone in his voice. That's another thing that just drives a dagger through my chest and then heart.

Added: 10/01/09:

That guy is now my boss - actually has been since 10/13/09

Well, I woke up around 12:30

I guess I will try to get back to sleep.

Welcome

Home by the Sea
by GenesisCreeping up the blind side, shinning up the wall
Stealing thru the dark of night
Climbing thru a window, stepping to the floor
Checking to the left and the right
Picking up the pieces, putting them away
Something doesnt feel quite right

Help me someone, let me out of here
Then out of the dark was suddenly heard
Welcome to the home by the sea

Coming out the woodwork, thru the open door
Pushing from above and below
Shadows but no substance, in the shape of men
Round and down and sideways they go
Adrift without direction, eyes that hold despair
Then as one they sign and they moan

Help us someone, let us out of here
Living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea

You know what I can't stand

Is when I put on a shirt and I feel this excruciating fire like pain in my back. Then out from my shirt falls one of those fucking scorpions. The next four or five hours I am in pain and I just watch my skin around my back reacting to the poison as it makes its way around my abdomen. It kind of peters out as it gets to my chest and the pain lessens. I hate that!

Fwoosh!

A very brief departure into the other world was interupted by a nose full of, then a mouth full of, then lungs full of cold water. All around was the barely distinguishable outline of rock through what seemed to take him and eternity to figure out was blue grey of water. He was coughing and choking as his head popped above the water. He looked up and on the shore there she was watching - just looking at him as if she were a scientist observing a laboratory animal such as a rat fighting for his life. He began to tread the icy water and then began to swim to the shore. He pulled him self out almost at the point where she had been but no longer was. He crawled completely out head pounding out every beat his heart could make. His head ached sharply like when ice cream is eaten to quickly. The blood his brain had decreased severely in temperature. He rolled over on his back grabbed his head and rocked from side to side. The pain subsided and he slowly came to a stop. Finally he laid on his back looking up at the fog. It was getting dark and a cold rain began to fall. He closed his eyes and laid back in the mud. His last thought before he went to sleep was, "But God, you promised!"

All all all righty thennnnnn.

He kept turning around to see if anybody was there. From time to time he would stop and look around but no one, not a soul. The last two days were incredibly devoid of other people. All there seemed to be, were him, the path, the rain, and his thoughts. And his thoughts he could do without.

It had to have been around 180 days now since he heard the words, "I want you to leave, I want you to go and not come back." He asked if he ever could. She said she didn't know. So he left. Around 60 days after leaving, he realized that there was no recognizable trail, path, or road back. He would never see or realize that part of his life again.

Two days ago he had ventured up one of the tall cliffs that skirted that path he walked. The climb was difficult but not impossible. He wanted to see if he could at least see the sun. It had probably been 180 days since he had last seen the sun. As he thought about it, he realized that not once had the sun shone through the clouds, let alone at all.

As he climbed the fog thickened but he seemed to be able to find foot holds even in the reduced visibility. His cloths were soaked from sweat and rain. They were torn so bad he really didn't know why he was wearing his shirt anymore. As continued his climb he attained the final rip in his shirt that rendered it completely useless. He took it off and threw it out into the open air. He watch it whirl around and slip into the thickness of the fog below and then continued the ascent.

As got closer to the top. It became brighter and brighter. There was a sun in this strange land. He wasn't even sure he was on the planet anymore as he thought about the concept of "the sun" "This doesn't even really seem like earth anymore." It got brighter. Finally it got so bright that the fog was so lit up and the glare was so bad he could no longer see the next foot hold. He froze then looked down. For a while he couldn't make out any foot holds below. Panic ensued. He started to shake and his knees became weak. His heart rate and breathing rate increased until he closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. He opened his eyes as he looked down. Finally he could just make out one of the foot holds he had just used. He slowly and carefully lowered himself down onto it. As he began to put his full weight onto the out cropping of rocks, they gave way and he clawed desperately at the rock only to realize he was clawing at the fog and it was getting darker and darker. He watched the cliff disappear the brightly lit fog grow dim and felt the rush of air as he accelerated back toward the ground. He thought, Thank you God. It is over!

Off to the Sunday night AA meeting

To night we talked about the fifth step. The fifth step is where you admit to yourself, God, and another human being the exact nature of your wrongs. And what are your wrongs you might ask. Well your wrongs you got from step four where you made a searching and fearless moral inventory of your defects of character. I was surprised to find that I actually had defects of characther LOL!!! Not really. I had plenty. The first time I did a fifth step it wasn't too bad the second time, whoa! I felt like shit. This is not really the intent of the fifth step. The fifth step is intended to get you closer to your higher power, God, Budha, what ever. Any way, I gotta do another fifth step well actually forth step first then fifth step.

Driving up I-17 early Saturday Morning

This is a picture of the sun through a bug splattered windshield through smokey air.

Sunday Morning

Went to church this morning. I have met some really nice people there but it still turns me off for some reason. I think it is the whole judgement thing. In church we do a group prayer. Our spiritual lead believes in only praying for thanks. I guess I kind of have to agree with that. Anyway I prayed that I was grateful nobody was hurt and that there was only superficial property damage with a friend of mine who experienced an accident.

I have a pretty bad head ache right now. I think it is because I haven't had coffee in the last 24 hours and I have been crying for the last hour and a half.

I went to the grocery store bought my standard fair of six apples, a package of string cheese, some grapefruit juice, some bananas, cereal, and some other junk. As I was there I was putting stuff in the shopping cart and I thought of when I would take my three boys to the grocery store and put them all in the cart. Just like that the what ever it is that has kept me from falling to pieces went away. Right there in the grocery store I lost it.

It feels like I am trying to pretend that my world is not a world of shit that I live in. Every once in a while the whole thing comes crashing through - the reality of the situation. It is so fucking painful I just want to die. I would like to talk to her so desperately but I know that I can't; all I can do is just sit here and take it; try to deal with it as best I can. This is one fucking lonely time in my life.

The high light of my week is Sunday evening when I go to my AA meeting and I see her.

My nonsense drawing Otherwise known as doodling.

Nonsense

I keep looking back

but no ones there.

Shame on me!

So the last several posts have been kind of like a story of metaphores for the journey I am on. When I started out it seemed kind of cool. Now, not so much. I look back at it as kind of foolish and I am kind of embarassed. I mean I would never dream of showing my wife this stuff. She would roll her eyes and get pissed because I am wasting my time. I would feel shame like I am beginning to now. Just thinking about the fact that I wrote this stuff - that I took the time to write this stuff makes me feel shame.

When he awoke that following morning the rain had stopped but it was still cloudy; an overcast covered the sky. He opened his eyes and laid on his side and looked out at the beautifully green country side. His first thought was remembering what it was like to wake up behind his wife with his arm around her stomach. The comforting warmth. The rythmic movements of her body as she inhaled and exhaled. The peacefulness, the comfort, the serenity, he knew it was special then and he was afraid of loosing it. Now, here he was; that kind of comfort was gone. He wondered if he would ever feel that again in his life or was he just destined to continue this journey in the rain.

There didn't seem to be as many rocks on the path this morning. He started back down what appeared to be the path. And then he thought of the girl. What had happened to her? As he walked he kept looking around and hoping.

I can't believe this is happening to me is all he could think. He thought back and remembered:

He remembered going to dinner at Willie G's on the 16th street mall. How they would talk and enjoy each other's company. He remembered the last time they. . . and then the crash of thunder and the rain came down in sheets.

He hid in a hole in one of the bigger rocks. Part of the rock protruded out over the opening and sheltered him from the rain. It was warm inside the rock for some reason. He laid down. As he closed his eyes he saw their faces. He wanted to go back to be with them but the choices he had made would not allow that, for now.

It was comfortable in the hole in the rock. The drone of the rain was hypnotic. He listened to the rain as it seemed to become more and more muffled. He was completely in the dark. There was no change in the light when he closed his eyes. He had nothing but he was warm. He realized it didn't show up today but the girl did. He thought of the girl and a feeling of hope came over him as the rain lulled him gently to sleep.

The rain fell harder and it was starting to get dark.

All of the sudden from a distance behind, "Where are you from?" she yelled

He turned around, startled. "What?" he yelled back. He could barely hear her over the rain. He made out the shape throught the rain and the fog. She had on a raincoat this time. But it was definitely her. He could tell by her voice.

"I said, where did you come from?" she said as she stopped climbing over a road that had turned into a path that had then turned into large rocks and small boulders. She cupped her hands around her mouth to direct the sound toward him.

The rain instensified, the fog thickened and then she was gone again. Not hidden by the rain and the fog, but gone. He was left in a panic. He wanted to run. but run where. He wanted to scream but to who. There was no time and there was no place. He realized he seemed to be in no time and no place just in the middle of an incredibly rocky path, in the cold wet rain as darkness settled in.

Just then he figured out what she asked. Right after that he figured out that he didn't have the answer. He wondered if he would hear from her again.

"Stay focused." he thought.

"Listen, I just have to get away for awhile." She said in kind of a desperate tone."

Get away from who?" he asked."

Get away from the people I am traveling with. Sometimes I don't think he's safe."

An icicle of pain shot through him. He winced. She couldn't see it. She didn't know but he did.

He knew what he had done. That's why he was out here in the rain - the interminable rain. He wondered if she was out here because she had to be or was she hiding. He knew he had no choice. He wondered if she would get to that place of where traveling in the rain would no longer be a choice for her.

It hurt him to hear her speak of being abused. He was a perpetrator of emotional abuse. And it was for this he had been banished. And now here was this person out here in the rain wanting to walk and talk with him for awhile. Never-the-less, the shame in his heart swelled. He felt bad for her and looked to her as yet another instructor.

"Stay focused." he thought. "Keep your eye on the path. Don't get distracted." He had done enough stumbling and falling to last him a lifetime. He no longer had the luxury of "going along for the ride." "Stay focused."

He looked straight ahead with an aire of determination. A rain drop slid down his nose and clung to the end as he surveyed what lay ahead. The mist had now turned to rain. She was gone.

That morning, as he set out, there was a light mist and it was a bit foggy. Through the fog he could see the outline of a person. Right away he recognized that it was her. It looked like they would be heading in the same direction again today. He was happy about that. She didn't seem to mind either.

It occurred to him on this grey morning that he no longer knew where he was going. He no longer had a destination. Out of the several destinations he thought he might go to, he had come to understand that none of them existed any more. They had all been destroyed in the flood.

She on the other hand seemed to be heading somewhere. He couldn’t figure out where and she wouldn’t tell. In fact, he wasn't sure that she was sure she knew where she was going. One thing seemed clear was that she didn't like where she was. He was careful not to pry. That was her business. All he knew is that the conversation was pleasant and the road didn’t seem so lonely on this cold and damp day.

As he thought about her situation he realized that that is what had started him on his journey; He didn't like where he was. Once again, he only knew that something wasn't quite right. He knew if he had continued in that same direction whatever disaster awaited him would be much worse than anything that might happen if he decided to leave that trail. So he left. That was a long time ago.

It actually took him a long time to leave. He kept going back. Everytime he would re-join the main party, he invariably ended up pissing and moaning about how they were heading in the wrong direction until they finally kicked him out of the group.

One day after making another attempt to leave, he went to where he thought they should be but no one was there. He ran up the path a couple of miles; didn't see a soul. He ran back the other way, still no one. He tried to return several times thereafter but everytime there was no one to be found. Either they had taken a different way or they were all hiding from him. He suspected a little of both. He understood though; Even he was getting sick of his own bitching and complaining.

Finally, after he realized what had happened he set out in the direction that seemed the clearest. Unfortunately, even the direction that seemed to be the way was quite rough and actually not that clear. As he traveled farther down the road he began to meet people heading the same direction. Every person that he began traveling down the road with had one thing in common; they didn't know where they were going.

Also, as he got farther down the road, the signs along the way began to diminish, the ones that were there were broken and sometimes they seemed to point in the wrong direction. He would come across many people that were crossing his path. In fact several times they would accompany him for a while and then they would have to take the other fork in the road. All of these people seemed so prepared with the latest navigational equipment like GPS functional cell phones, the latest maps, Goretex jackets, waterproof hiking boots, the best back packs, etc. etc. etc.. All he had was this stupid blue book that described the way and was written by, as the lore went, a couple of guys that were the first ones to take the trip. They documented the trip very carefully in the blue book.

He wondered if this was the way to be going, why was it so poorly marked? The road wasn't even a road for God's sake. I mean, you could see remenants of where a road had been which offered a comforting clue that you weren't as lost as you thought you were. But most of the way you had to push away the rock, cut through the brush, and clear away the wreckage from previous adventures. He realized why this was so; Not too many people went this way.

He didn't know how long they would accompany each other down the path but she was the first new person he'd seen in about six months.

He was happy there was a new face and some new conversation. And so they headed down the winding wet dirt road talking to each other while the mist soaked through their cloths on that grey damp Wednesday morning

Sometimes my breath

is taken away when I realize the magnitude of my lose. I am looking at something I can't quite fully comprehend. However, I do get glimpses and those glimpses are terrifying. The glimpses take my breath away almost like a cut to my gut. Once the air begins to return to my lungs the picture of horror is so immense that I have to turn away. I am left with this sense of emptiness. I want something to fill it. The only thing I can put there is God.

The situation is so overwhelming

It is omnipresent. It seems to have become a part of my being. It permeates everything I think.

and now for something completely different

As I sit here doing my drawings I am listening to Faithless' "The Garden" and "Sunday 8PM" They are very nice instrumental pieces. All the other stuff on the album 8PM is kind of Rap like. But these two I really really like. I am ruminating on them, I think. The music I listen to becomes a marker for a particular time in my life. I think these two pieces will become markers for this time along with a variety of other music. I am looking for new music to replace 16 years of music. - Think I'll put this on my blog.

Rumination is a style of thinking in which, like a hamster in a cage, you run in tight circles on a treadmill in your brain. It means obsessing about problems, about a loss, about any kind of a setback or ambiguity without moving past thought into the realm of action.

I like music without words

On top of mt Elden all covered with rock

Mt Eldon

Mt. Elden is the tallest one on the right.

My ears are on fire

My ears are burning up. In fact, my ears and my eye lids are on fire. I mean they are really hot for some reason. This happens to me from time to time so I put water on my eye lids and ears to cool them down. I wish I knew what was going on with this. I have talked to a lot of doctors. They do not know.

On 12 Step

How has 12 step programs helped me personnally?

This is an essay question, isn't it? Is there partial credit?

Okay, enough with being a smart ass. As I said in the comments, 12 step programs have helped me to become more spiritual. This is what 12 step programs are all about becoming spiritual. Alcoholics Anonymous is a "spiritual program of action." This really turns a lot of people off. But I was at my wits end. So, me being an atheist decided that I needed to disspence with the arrogance and consider spirtuallity as a possible solution. Notice I say spirtuallity and not religion, Jesus Christ, Budha, Reverend Jim Jones, Big Bad Bob the Albino, or any cult or anything like that.

Prior to this I thought all that God stuff Budha stuff and the like was for the weak minded. However, I now look at it in a different light. Here is my reasoning:

The 12 step program is a way of dealing with addiction to Alcohol, drugs, sex, you name it. I believe my addiction stems from anxiety, fear, loneliness, and/or psychological pain in general. I believe this psychological pain comes from the uncertainty of survival. In other words, I am literally afraid for my life. For me, every pain I have can be traced back to my fear for survival.

The way I calm this fear is to drink, drug, have sex, you name it. In these conditions, I literally gain serenity. That's what you get when drink, That's what I get when I have sex, especially after. In fact, that's what I get when I am accepted by that very special someone who I believe is the answer to my dreams, who makes me feel needed, who makes me feel loved. When I don't have this, my survival is in question.

I understand that my survival depends on my ability to produce at work. Well, what if I don't like my work. That's kind of a problem. The other thing is that my ability to produce at work is subject to opinion. Do the people that sign my paycheck value the work I do. All these things kind of come into play. Add to this that I was told from the time I was born that I was a worthless shit and a dumb bastard. So right off the bat, I don't believe I have the ability to produce. I don't believe I have value to other people. But it is through other people that my survival depends on. This is a lot of fucking pain to deal with. I think I'll have a drink. I think I'll see a prostitute. - or whatever. Once I do this I get some sense of "everything being okay" for a little while. This sense of "everything being okay." is almost euphoric compared to the standard, "I have no right to be alive." or "at any moment my life is going to go into the shitter." I learn very quickly that Alcohol, drugs, sex makes me feel okay in this very uncertain world.

The spirtuallity aspect tells us that in a very natural way, all of us will be cared for. Once you gain a "visceral" understanding of this you then get the same thing that you got artificially through seeing prostitutes, having the nice car, taking drugs, buying lots of stuff, eating, or what ever.

The thing of it is, is that "ALL OF US WILL BE CARED FOR BY A HIGHER POWER" as long as we work this spiritual program of action. Yes, it is contingent on you working the program, the 12 steps. I have found this to be true so far. I must have faith though.

To me when I first heard this I thought that this kind of sounds like "motherhood and apple pie" and crap like that. But I am finding that this is the case - when I work the program. Because it is when I work the program that I can then really start to believe on a very basic/fundamental level that everything will be okay. So there is no need to fuck over my neighbor. There is no need to be disrespectful to women. There is no "need" to have the nicest car. There is no need to send my kids to "the best schools" in order to keep up with the Dasouza's (My wife's neighbors) No, everything is fine just as it is.

Okay, I am not there yet. Very few of us are but this is my goal. I have seen glimpses of this. I have had real tangible experiences with this to know that this is what I definitely need to be doing. This is why when my wife says, I want everything you have and I do not want you to have any type of a life after our divorce, I say in responce, I will try to meet you as closely on this as I possibly can. I know that what she wants is not in line with spiritual principles and I know that I will be taken care of. What happens to her and what she ultimately gets is her own business. But mine is that, after all is said and done, as long as I am working my program I will be happy.

It is for all of this that I am truely grateful. I really am. I have gone through a tremendous amount of pain these last few days - this last weekend, even for several hours today. Never-the-less, I feel good, I feel content. Everything in my life right now is okay. It is fine. I live in a wonderful house, have an excellent roommate, just had coffee and excellent conversation with two wonderful friends at Macy's, listened to some excellent music, came home and wrote this - was inspired to write this to a wonderful beautiful person - you know who you are. And all is well. I am grateful. Thank you God.

It is through 12 step that I am understanding gratitude and how absolutely wonderful gratitude can be. Six months ago, I so did not get it! I will say though that all the seeds had been planted by that time. That's is what 12 step has done for me personally It has allowed me to believe for at the very least brief periods of time that every thing will be okay and therefore I do not need to seek the services of a prostitute or a 12 pack of beer hit of crack to "feel like every thing will be okay." It's much better than that; I know everything will be okay!

Join us for our next episode when we confront the question:

"Who is this "God" person anyway?"