I have a decision coming up to stay or to go and I do not know what I will do. I am sitting here trying to make a decision without all the information. I mean I have not gotten the "offer." yet. I am expecting it will come tomorrow. It would be great if they would decide for me as in, "We've decided not to extend you an offer." That would really feel like rejection but I would get it.
Making the decision means letting go of something. Making the decision means making a choice and whatever I choose means I am not choosing the other thing. It means I will be loosing something.
I honestly did not think it would come to this!
I am so fucking tired. I had to leave work early today just to come home to sleep.
Oh God, please help me.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Winds of Change and JD's winds of change
are a blowin'. Change! What change.
I am contemplating a huge life change. A move again - 700 miles back across the Rockies. I can't think or concentrate on my work at hand. This is why I am writing in this stupid fucking blog instead of doing my work. God help me!
Dude, I wish my life change was as simple as coloring my hair purple. Instead it is leaving all I have come to know in sobriety behind and going to a new place alone. You say you are doing a "big" life change? wooooo! whoooo! Look the fuck out! Gettin purple hair! Sayin good bye to the girl friend accept for when you fuck her every couple of weeks or so sometimes its every couple of days . To me, it only looks like the only thing that has changes is your purple hair. You now have purple hair when you fuck her.
Change would be if you blocked her e-mail, phone, facebook and whatever the fuck else you contact her with. Change would be if you actually stopped communicating with her. But alas, your ego needs satisfaction and when she runs after you it feels so fucking good!
Okay, I'm done.
I am contemplating a huge life change. A move again - 700 miles back across the Rockies. I can't think or concentrate on my work at hand. This is why I am writing in this stupid fucking blog instead of doing my work. God help me!
Dude, I wish my life change was as simple as coloring my hair purple. Instead it is leaving all I have come to know in sobriety behind and going to a new place alone. You say you are doing a "big" life change? wooooo! whoooo! Look the fuck out! Gettin purple hair! Sayin good bye to the girl friend accept for when you fuck her every couple of weeks or so sometimes its every couple of days . To me, it only looks like the only thing that has changes is your purple hair. You now have purple hair when you fuck her.
Change would be if you blocked her e-mail, phone, facebook and whatever the fuck else you contact her with. Change would be if you actually stopped communicating with her. But alas, your ego needs satisfaction and when she runs after you it feels so fucking good!
Okay, I'm done.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Gone
Occasionally, he would go back to where he last saw her but she was gone.
Although she wasn't there he could tell she would visit this place occasionally. Everytime she was there she would leave a picture and everytime it was a different one. She also left a message that read, "I hate life."
He didn't know why he would occasionally go back but really he knew and just did not want to admit it. He had a thing for her. For a period, of maybe four or five months, they walked through the wreckage together, wreckage that each of them seperately created. Unfortunately just by the fact that they walked together they ended up adding to the firestorms and chaos that was already going on.
They had to split.
He thought he would visit the place one last time but deep down inside he knew he'd be back - back to the place that was once her rise above but had become just shits and digs.
Yeah, he'd be back.
Although she wasn't there he could tell she would visit this place occasionally. Everytime she was there she would leave a picture and everytime it was a different one. She also left a message that read, "I hate life."
He didn't know why he would occasionally go back but really he knew and just did not want to admit it. He had a thing for her. For a period, of maybe four or five months, they walked through the wreckage together, wreckage that each of them seperately created. Unfortunately just by the fact that they walked together they ended up adding to the firestorms and chaos that was already going on.
They had to split.
He thought he would visit the place one last time but deep down inside he knew he'd be back - back to the place that was once her rise above but had become just shits and digs.
Yeah, he'd be back.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Is it time yet?
He had been in out of the rain for a while. The warmth of the fire felt good. He had built something. He had been away from the nightmare for five years now. During that time he had built a shelter. There was nothing palacial or elegent about it. It was simple and at first it just kept the rain off his head and allowed him to get warm.
In the early days he was so grateful just to be out of the rain. He had gotten some distance from the accident but yet he could still see the waxing and waining glow of the fires in the distant as the rain continued to fall. The rain never stopped. The yellow orange glow in the distance served as a constant reminder of the wreckage. But after some time that glow that filled the night sky dimmed until one evening as he was snuggling under the covers he looked out and realized that not only had the rain stopped the there was not orange light reflecting off the clouds in the distance.
He had no idea how long it had been other than it seemed like years. It took years for the fires to die down. As he thought about it, there must have been a tremendous amount of fuel to keep them going all this time. And indeed the amount of fuel was staggering and the fires had been going on for years unabated.
Even after the sky no longer flickered with golden yellow light the fires persisted and he knew this. He knew they were still there just not strong enough to illuminate the night sky. He could still smell. He hadn't gotten quite far enough to escape the sickening smell. He had set up what he thought would be a temporary shelter. He vowed he would stay just for a few days and move on. But he was tired and the days turned into weeks, the weeks to months and then the months collected themselves into two years.
One morning he woke up to a clear blue sky and realized he could not remember the last time he saw the brownish green haze or that "burn" smell. He looked back in the direction from which he had traveled two years ago and wondered what was there.
At first it felt like he was being shocked in his stomach followed by slight nausea. He didn't think too much about it at first but a month later it returned. The feeling was more than a slight shock, now it was a hard tightening in his lower abdomen as if he was being punched in the gut in slow motion followed by a loss of breath. He did not even realize he was not breathing. The feeling started to return frequently. It would happen at randomn times accept for Sunday's. On Sunday, he could count on it.
He began to realize that this would come on everytime he looked back in the direction of the wreckage or even think about it. And finally it occurred to him that didn't the night mare happen on a Sunday.
He had to leave. Didn't he have any other choice? He began to notice that he was rationalizing with himself everytime the queezy feeling and loss of breath would come on. He was actually arguing with some one but did not know who.
"I mean there was nothing else I could do! To stay there meant certain death! Right? The place wasn't safe. I mean how long had the fires burned?" He would think to himself everytime the feeling came on. Just stay here and you'll be alright. Deep down inside, he knew what this meant but only at an emotional level. He couldn't actually enunciate in his head let alone out loud what he understood to be true at the gut level.
In the early days he was so grateful just to be out of the rain. He had gotten some distance from the accident but yet he could still see the waxing and waining glow of the fires in the distant as the rain continued to fall. The rain never stopped. The yellow orange glow in the distance served as a constant reminder of the wreckage. But after some time that glow that filled the night sky dimmed until one evening as he was snuggling under the covers he looked out and realized that not only had the rain stopped the there was not orange light reflecting off the clouds in the distance.
He had no idea how long it had been other than it seemed like years. It took years for the fires to die down. As he thought about it, there must have been a tremendous amount of fuel to keep them going all this time. And indeed the amount of fuel was staggering and the fires had been going on for years unabated.
Even after the sky no longer flickered with golden yellow light the fires persisted and he knew this. He knew they were still there just not strong enough to illuminate the night sky. He could still smell. He hadn't gotten quite far enough to escape the sickening smell. He had set up what he thought would be a temporary shelter. He vowed he would stay just for a few days and move on. But he was tired and the days turned into weeks, the weeks to months and then the months collected themselves into two years.
One morning he woke up to a clear blue sky and realized he could not remember the last time he saw the brownish green haze or that "burn" smell. He looked back in the direction from which he had traveled two years ago and wondered what was there.
At first it felt like he was being shocked in his stomach followed by slight nausea. He didn't think too much about it at first but a month later it returned. The feeling was more than a slight shock, now it was a hard tightening in his lower abdomen as if he was being punched in the gut in slow motion followed by a loss of breath. He did not even realize he was not breathing. The feeling started to return frequently. It would happen at randomn times accept for Sunday's. On Sunday, he could count on it.
He began to realize that this would come on everytime he looked back in the direction of the wreckage or even think about it. And finally it occurred to him that didn't the night mare happen on a Sunday.
He had to leave. Didn't he have any other choice? He began to notice that he was rationalizing with himself everytime the queezy feeling and loss of breath would come on. He was actually arguing with some one but did not know who.
"I mean there was nothing else I could do! To stay there meant certain death! Right? The place wasn't safe. I mean how long had the fires burned?" He would think to himself everytime the feeling came on. Just stay here and you'll be alright. Deep down inside, he knew what this meant but only at an emotional level. He couldn't actually enunciate in his head let alone out loud what he understood to be true at the gut level.
Let's take the boat out.
Wait until darkeness
Let's take the boat out
Wait until darkness comes. . . .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Looking down on empty streets
all she can see
are dreams all made solid
are dreams all made real.
This is kind of what I do for a living. I design machinery. It's nice and it is really nice when it works. Alot of times it doesn't work (right off the bat)
All of those buildings
All of those cars
were once just dream in somebody's head
She pictures the broken glass she pictures the steam
she pictures a soul
with no leak at the seam.
Will I be back on the street? Mercy street that is. . .
are dreams all made solid
are dreams all made real.
This is kind of what I do for a living. I design machinery. It's nice and it is really nice when it works. Alot of times it doesn't work (right off the bat)
All of those buildings
All of those cars
were once just dream in somebody's head
She pictures the broken glass she pictures the steam
she pictures a soul
with no leak at the seam.
Will I be back on the street? Mercy street that is. . .
Thursday, August 25, 2011
If you're going through hell. . .
Keep going
I'm going through hell. Once again. The hell of it is. hmmm ha ha. Okay, the hell of it is, is that I may have to make a decision that is going to change my life drastically - again. This time I am trying to really think it through and it doesn't seem to be working. Thinking for me never has really worked out.
I love this place that I have come to know as home. I love the people I know here. I mean I think I actually really love the people I know here. How could this possibly happen any where else. I can't even concieve of it. This was some how special. This place is some how special, unique, can not be duplicated. (Am I being redundant?)
They say, "they" being my group and various friends say, "Go, you need to be with your kids!" "They" don't really understand. The drama continues. I still haven't heard anything yet. . .
I'm going through hell. Once again. The hell of it is. hmmm ha ha. Okay, the hell of it is, is that I may have to make a decision that is going to change my life drastically - again. This time I am trying to really think it through and it doesn't seem to be working. Thinking for me never has really worked out.
I love this place that I have come to know as home. I love the people I know here. I mean I think I actually really love the people I know here. How could this possibly happen any where else. I can't even concieve of it. This was some how special. This place is some how special, unique, can not be duplicated. (Am I being redundant?)
They say, "they" being my group and various friends say, "Go, you need to be with your kids!" "They" don't really understand. The drama continues. I still haven't heard anything yet. . .
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Pain
I don't seem to be able to write unless I am in a lot of pain. Three posts in 2010. No posts yet this year until this one. I had to update some stuff on my server and it caused me to look at a blogging program offered by them. I also saw Julie and Julia in which the main character writes a blog about Julia Childs. It got me thinking about doing the blog some more. So here I am.
In 2006 I did 164 entries. I was in a lot of pain back then. I would look at other peoples' blogs and see that their last entries were over a year old and wonder what the hell! Why did they stop? How could they stop blogging. And now here I am haven't blogged in over a year.
Part of it is, is: "Who the hell cares?" Who the hell cares what I have to say? I did get an anonymous comment from someone who wrote that they were glad to see I was still writing. This of course really appeals to my ego! And this inspires me to write some more. The comment was from my last post which I had done over a year ago. The comment was left, I think July 17 of this year.
Today my life is much more boring. I am much less pissed off about stuff - I mean much much less pissed off about stuff. I am not in the pain of a divorce. I am in a boring relationship. This is a good thing. On the relationship front boring is good! We love and respect one another which makes for very low drama.
However, I have has some stuff come up in the last year that I could probably write about. And I also have some stuff going on write now that might be interesting. . .
In 2006 I did 164 entries. I was in a lot of pain back then. I would look at other peoples' blogs and see that their last entries were over a year old and wonder what the hell! Why did they stop? How could they stop blogging. And now here I am haven't blogged in over a year.
Part of it is, is: "Who the hell cares?" Who the hell cares what I have to say? I did get an anonymous comment from someone who wrote that they were glad to see I was still writing. This of course really appeals to my ego! And this inspires me to write some more. The comment was from my last post which I had done over a year ago. The comment was left, I think July 17 of this year.
Today my life is much more boring. I am much less pissed off about stuff - I mean much much less pissed off about stuff. I am not in the pain of a divorce. I am in a boring relationship. This is a good thing. On the relationship front boring is good! We love and respect one another which makes for very low drama.
However, I have has some stuff come up in the last year that I could probably write about. And I also have some stuff going on write now that might be interesting. . .
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