sure thing jellybean

i found solace in nature. sobriety has its kicks, and i've always battled to stay on the straight and narrow. walking through the woods, actually smelling and seeing, is something im not willing to give up these days. im content with most aspects of my life. i saw a lot of beautiful birds this weekend, and caught up on a ton of reading. giving Ulysses a fourth read, because james joyce is just marvelous like that. i learned switch tre flip's again, yheee boiii. hmmm, what else? i feel my mind coming to an easier, simple pace. for as long as i can remember, my mind was addled with vodka and a whole shitload of other drink. quitting has been the most difficult, yet fulfilling endeavor ive come across in recent memory. other than that, one day at a time blah blah blah, and i hope to come to a happier, more sound mental state.

die doggy die

Thank-you , dear Walter, for that excruciating burst of adrenaline that you provide for me on a daily basis. As i am nearing the completion of my ten mile bike ride, my energy is waning and my spirit is becoming weak. The urge to abandon my trek is overwhelming, when suddenly, you burst from the front porch, barking, snarling, panting, froth dripping from your flabby jowls, your fangs glinting in the sunlight. Your mistress, the old crone, stands on the porch in her faded housecoat, clapping her hands frantically, shrieking "Walter, Walter , bad boy....come back here!" to no avail. You are a disobedient old cur and continue your pursuit, eyeing my ample rear as if it were indeed a rump roast. Your mistress calls out reassuringly that Walter is completely harmless and he just wants to play. I remain unconvinced as he latches on to my seersucker capris with remarkable force. "Don't be afraid", she exhorts me. "he can smell fear" HAH! I am about to soil my new gel bike seat. Terror is oozing from my every pore. And there it is - that amazing influx of adrenaline that spurs me on my way! I ride like the wind!, I can ride anywhere!, I can climb mountains!, I can run a marathon! I give Walter a kick to the chops, while housecoat lady screams "Don't hurt my baby!" and I am outta there. However, at my age, I am becoming concerned about this daily dose of adrenaline and am becoming increasingly concerned about its' effect on my circulatory system. So, tomorrow, Walter, I am ready for you. I purchased some dog repellent spray. We will meet tomorrow. I'll be cruising by on my trusty old bike, and you will be rolling on the yard with your rheumy eyes smarting from the pepper spray. The container boasts of a twenty foot stream, so I may have a little squirt for you mistress as well. See ya tomorrow.

in memory of

i realized that my posts are just dreams that i wish would come true in some bizarre, other world dimension. no more sorrow or discontent; shapes and shifts, stairs and ski lifts.

banter and silly panther

ghosts were filled in my room. i saw a child, streak across the vacuum. i needed lights. she slept on the outside, for i was selfish bastard. drinks filled, drinks poured. sleep. i walked into the abyss, saw the women i needed. love. saw the pink. hiding on the shelf. steam and closure. "this is what you want." nay. will. i turned and laughed. the towel hanged from the rod, unable to do its job. fired. tear. i said, "fuck it." wish you were here. wake up wake up wake up. she was waiting for me, eyes lying and body waiting. i told her of tales of the ancients; tales of england and grit. you. we listened to the burgeoning sounds of 2009 soul. i enjoyed the potato fermented in a bottle of consumerism. "you're beautiful." buy buy buy. apart. we hold each other in an embrace. her feet upon mine; song over. sleep.