as much as i would like to say that i am “cool” and “with it”–i’m not.
i don’t live in the world that everyone else does.
i create my own world, of my own devices, based soley upon what i see.
drinking is my only vice right now. the irony in this is that i hate drunk people.
specially drunk girls.
what gives you the right to think that you can call me at 330 AM and say to me “your place or mine?”?
that shit gets old quick.
if i wanted an easy hookup with something that was less than meaningful, i’d invite my hand home.
i have faaaaaar more important things to do, like how i will take over the world.
or how i will gain the love of my one.
or 2?
or 3?
or x^n?

it doesn’t matter anymore. everyone treats me the same.
unaproachable? not likely, long as you are not a meathead.
criminal? not anymore, though i’ve had my share of disappointments.
self-confident? my ego would kill herds of elephants if it ran unchecked.
loyal? no one will ever know, because no one will ever show me the loyalty shown to me by mt pit-bull.
drug-addict? hell, i don’t even do aspirin…..

it’s the price i pay for being a complete individual these days—every time i act on my own,
i must be trying to be “alternative”
a term i have branded with, shed, and re-branded with yearly.
i am a skinhead. (and for those of you brainwashed by the media’s stereotype—read about what a real skinhead is…….American Skin, by Don DeGrazio is a good start (alex as a reference point)).
i wear my skin proud.
i walk side by side with all my brothers.
i feel no shame.

this is turning into a huge ramble, but i care not anymore…
my emotions have been bottled too long, and now they are coming out in one moderately sized piece of crap.
playing pool tonight.
some jerkass decided to mock how i racked the balls when we played.
he promoptly apologized soon as i whooped his ass.

point is:->hardly anyone on this world will ever know what it is to feel my confidence, to feel the strength that it gives me, and to also feel the lonliness that it leaves me with.
perhaps i should be weak to save face?
or perhaps i should submit to enjoy the benefits of selling out.
like a sucker.
a weak sucker.
i’ll never be able to do it, just like i’ll never be able to do any drug….not even aspirin.

it was waaaaaay cooler when i used to punch people.
now, all i get when i punch the nearest jerkass is a broken mirror..

everyone looks and feels the same these days.
time to stop.

king of the asshole drunks i am. 2 beers on his head i threw.
more beer i did drink.
and fight i did get in.
it was the best time i have had since i learned to jerk off using either hand.
been too long since i have been in a fight.
been too long since i remembered how it should happen.
been too long since i remembered the feel of a nose breaking on my calloused knuckles.
been too long since i remembered how awesome it felt.

the way i see things is that we are all creatures of habit. i do this, you do that.
he does this, and they all do that.
i do something else, and it fucks the whole system up.

i love it. i love the power that i have over everything around me.
even though i realize that i am powerless to emotion, and the strain it gives me and those around me.
i finally found my boyz again. i finally found the skins again…..
i finally remember where i came from,
i finally remember what i am, and what i will always be
blue-collar worker, skin 4 life, perl geek….

i found my way again. and it makes me feel good to know that i belong here.
makes me feel good to know that i am accepted for what i am from my brothers and sisters.

now that i’m back from wasting time and getting drunk around the land…
i’ll be throwing some lines around here soon..

lost my best friend the other day.
i miss him soooooo much i want to die.
all i read now are books written entirely in metaphor.
it brings everything in perspective, and also confuses the hell out of everything i know.
britney spears? in a movie? lord, please kill me.
nice tits, but damn–bout time she went somewhere and just shut up.
so my friend marcus is gone.
i live alone now–i miss his warm greeting.
i miss his tongue, i miss his body next to mine in the middle of the night.
i miss his warm nose touching my face in the early morning.

i miss my pit-bull more than i ever would have imagined.
gave me a break from programming and being serious.
he gave me a life beyond work–he made my life worth it for a change.
i keep hoping i’ll see him run over the door and come to me like he always did.
then drink some piss out of my crumper.
i’m all over the place these days. i can’t concentrate on one thing alone anymore.
my new server is almost done, my next surgery should be coming soon….
i’m bigger and more clean than i have ever been.
nothing like walking down the street in a black bomber and docs—just watching the people shrink away from me.
hooligan is me.
this is kind of new to me, again…..make me feel confortable.
the language i speak never fails me unless that time is now.

Crippling depression ripping flesh body bags and donuts…
If you don’t walk with me, I will walk alone.
I’m sick of walking alone. I want someone to lean on. I want someone to take care of me, especially now.
It’s been too long for me, and I am afraid that I won’t see the day anytime soon.
Everyday, I wake up shaking from too much caffeine, too much nicotine, and too many bad dreams.
Just for once–I want the world to listen to me, to cater for me and try to understand what it is like to be the person that no one wants to be. To be hard all the time, but at the same time, know better than to do anything about it.
Life, to me, is more like a bad joke than it is an experience.
Sometimes I wonder if I was destined to fail, and why I keep fighting it.
I know why—-I am way too stubborn to give up now.
You taught me this, Lisa——and I hope you burn in hell for it.
I hope it made you happy what you put myself and Andy through.
I hope you can forgive me, because sometimes I can’t.
I’m walking through life now with a roller coaster. up down up down up down up down.
But it never stops—–I need to get off before I throw it all up.
Crushing breathing exploding mind…it’s all there.
I have it all, and I would give it to you in a second if I thought you could do better than me with it.
The constant pain of knowing there is nobody near you.
The pain of being in crowded places, and feeling alone.
The horror of knowing why you are like this.
The tragedy of being self-destructive, and not being able to quit long enough to relax.
I’ve walked down the streets for years now, but it never changes.
I still walk them alone, still unafraid of anything that might happen.
Still welcoming some hood coming up to me–just so I might be able to stop for a minute.
Just so I can make you happy that you stayed home, while I ate the wolves’ eyes that they might not see your fear.
I welcome the pain now—even though my heart is broken, and weak.
I had no idea I could live this long without a steady blood flow.
I had no idea you would let me live this way, this long.
I had no idea I would become the bastard of the family—but at the same time the workhorse of everything.
My body aches every movement. My mind screams to stop. My eyes plead with each other to shut down.
We all know better–we know I can’t stop.
If I had my own weatherman, it’d be thunderstorms every day.
Explosive rage with a Lincoln town car and 2 sticks of dynamite.
Ever play Russian roulette? I play every day, with one chamber empty.
My luck won’t last until the morning.
Walked alone all night tonight. Walked until the calluses said, “quit”, and still I walked more.
I walked into a party alone, walked through it alone, and I walked out alone.
Had people ask me if I was “ok”.
I’m not.
The last time my body was limber was on the west coast, where they knew how to treat you.
Up front, and in your face.
I can deal with that, but I can’t deal with this—“you’ll find out later, after I do it” shit.
I’ve been through too much to expect less.
I’ve been through too much for you to expect less.
And I don’t appreciate it at all.
Is respect too much to ask?
Is anything these days?

I’m not a fan of walking alone anymore……
I’ve come to the point where I need someone.
I need someone to smother me, to rub my calluses off.
To make me believe that they care.
And talk to me—-about nothing.
Feet are so blistered now it scares me…..
I move too fast and I break them—just like I have broken the rest of my life.
There is more—I am sure of it.
There is more for me, I just have to find it.
I don’t know if I will have the strength when the time comes though.
My will is so bruised it wants to give up.
My body is so apathetic it doesn’t care.
I can’t give up.
With a tear in my eye, and pain in my soul—I know I have to keep moving.
Although, at this point in my life—-I wish I could give up.
I’m sick of looking. I’m sick of being ignored by the person that is supposed to care the most about me.
Thank you for the epiphany—it was awesome.
Left me alone again, walking down the street, fending for myself again.
Damn near close to fending for no one.
I have to fend though—I have to.
Because no will let me let my guard down.
Fuck all of you for making me walk this way.
Now I know how all of the returning Vietnam veterans felt……abused by their own country.
It hurts, and I wish you could all feel what I feel.
A broken heart, an empty bottle, and a soon to be empty world.
Feels like I am tied down. I’m not.
But I can’t break loose—because I know that no matter where I go to, it won’t change anymore.
It’s gonna haunt me—until I get there.
I know where it is, I know how to get there.
But I can’t…..
I can’t………
I have to.
Living in infamy has its drawbacks…. i envy the mediocrity right now.
I envy the life I used to live. I envy the people around me, with their wimmen, their nice cars, their nice clothes, and their swell lives.
I envy it because I know that I will never have it.
I’ve been doing this for 9 years non-stop, and I want it to stop.
All I ever wanted was a comforting word, a hand on the back saying, “It’ll be alright man, just stick it out”.
I’ve been sticking, but it ain’t been alright.
It’s gotta change soon, I don’t know how strong I really am, and I don’t want to find out…..
Every waking moment is a moment filled with car wrecks, gunshots and broken bones
Every sleeping moment is filled with death and lies.
Every time I let myself get close to someone, I lose myself.
I lose what I have
You can pour your heart out
Give her everything
Break your back in the process
And it’s normal to see nothing but bored indifference
When am I going to wake up, and keep walking?
Not an option anymore—I just won’t sleep
I just won’t “do it” like everyone wants me to do.
I gained a lot today.
I gained my self-respect.
Hard-fought, and not easily lost this time.
My strength has tripled today—and my sleep has decreased.
Coincidence?
The resolve I have now is stronger than anything I have ever felt.
“Do it or don’t” I once said.
Fuck everything—-I’m going to do it. Do it with me, or leave me out of your bullshit existence.

The lessons I’ve learned have scarred me to no end.
All day I wonder how I have survived, and how I will survive through the day with
Nothing but scar tissue holding me together now
This is what you wanted.
This what I give you.
This is never going to end.
This is all for you…..

The young man walked down the street, virgin to the city, virgin to everything that we take for granted.
The older woman took him in, shared her home and shared her pussy with him.
Everything was going well until the day that he came home from work.
She asked him “why don’t we get a joint bank account?” –seeing as how they already were attached at the pelvis, the man decided it was a pretty good idea and gave her the information to take care of it.
The next day she took all of his life savings and told the cops that he had raped her.
Jail for 3-5.

How many times does it have to happen before you learn?
How many broken lives because you trusted in something?
How many broken lives have you made?
It’s time to go back to the basics and take care of ourselves.
To hell with everyone else, this is mine.
That is mine, and that is mine, and that, and that, and that.
You can’t take this from me.
This is me.
Your control of your existence is over—it’s being run by someone else now.
Maybe it’s time to stop relying on others, and learn to be you again?
Learn that you don’t have to listen to the latest rap craze
You don’t have to wear gap clothes to be popular.
You don’t have to drive a red sports car/suv to be the person you want to be.
Entirely too suggestive.
Entirely unnecessary.
Entirely useless to tell you—because it won’t change a thing.
Broken memories and broken futures.
I get so many looks these days—challenging me, inviting me.
Don’t fuck with me again—I’ll make you regret it.
I lost any inhibition ages ago—I’m the swinging dick who calls the streets his office.
I’m the swinging dick who looks right back at you—daring you to take a shot.
Welcoming the opportunity to put my fist straight through your skull.
Welcoming the chance to show you how wrong you have all been.
That a man like me CAN survive—and can show you what it’s like to not be dependent.
To show you that I won’t give up
To show you what I am
To show you who I am
To show you how much I hurt
And how it’s the only thing making me move….
To show you everything I have
To show you everything I lost
To show you everything
I’m not going to pull a punch here.
This is what I am, what I was, and what I will be.
This is where I beat my brain over the keypad, stomping my life through the keys onto this paper.
Showing you that a man can cry
Showing you that a man isn’t everything you think he is.
Showing you that I am still here….

If my old running buddies could see me now….
I’m probably the only one now that’s still out of prison
Still not on drugs
And still not living with the folks.
What a fucked up life.
“Hey there sweetcakes—wanna come home with me to my mom’s basement?”
I could never do that to myself.
I could never do that to you.
You tried to tell what’s right
You tried to tell me what’s wrong
I listened, and promptly forgot it.
Nothing you have ever said to me was worth retaining.
Every time you spoke to me, it tore me apart.
It still tears me apart when I think of you.
I am a wounded animal
I like it this way.
Cold, hard, unforgiving.
You made me, and I welcome it
This is all I am
This is everything I have
This is the bone that you will choke on
When you eat your thanksgiving dinner
I have no thanks anymore
I have nothing
I am giving you everything
All that I am
All that my soul allows
All that won’t die
With a tattoo of rage, And a fist of dissatisfaction
I tell you this.

The kid that won’t learn. Talking shit to the one guy who won’t muck around.
Gets thrown on the street, gets up all tough and wants to “explain”.
There are no explanations where I am from. There are no explanations anymore.
You either do it, or you walk away talking shit about how tough you REALLY are.
I laughed.
I almost gave a shit.
I let him live.

3:30 AM and I still can’t sleep.
Don’t know how to anymore.
All I know now is pain, rage, and depression
And rejection.
Hurts so much I am happy.
Lived so much I can die.
A bitter/better man.
The one time I gave in was the last time I tried.
The last time I gave in was a mistake.
I can’t let the weakness control me anymore.
6 pack and a bottle of blues.
Drowning it all away—like a cold steel glass of liquid iron.
Give me the fake strength one more day.
Lord—I pray to you that I don’t go under today.
I pray to you to destroy my enemies.
I pray to you to relieve of the pressure.
I pray to you to allow me to stomp upon all of my enemies.
All of the lowlife scum that isn’t worthy to breathe.
Amen.

Don’t condemn me—because we are all already condemned.
We have nothing now, and it is my will.
Someday we will get together and laugh about the petty shit that has bothered you for so long.
We will laugh about the problems you used to have,
While we can’t find any food.
And the teevee blares about the jobless rate.
And the radio blares the latest gossip that you eat up.
And I still walk alone with a knife in my back, and a silver tongue.
And the lives we have destroyed have come back to kill us.
Fuck the haunting—they are done.
They are here now, and they are here to kill you and me.
I call dibs on last death.
I call dibs on last breath.
I want to hear the screams of your judgment.
I want to see the face you make when you understand what you have done.
This is me.
This my all
This is everything I know
And everything that you ignore.

I haven’t forgotten you
There’s nothing that can make everything forget you.
Scared as hell we should be,
Scared as hell we are.
2000 miles of hate
2000 miles of rage
2000 miles of frustration
2000 miles of fear.

Scared as hell I am.
Crying daily I am, crying for my brothers
Crying for loves lost
Crying for the life I used to know.
Crying for you, who have no clue.
Strength means nothing now—it’s just a feeling.
Everything is real.
Everything is HERE.

We lift our glasses, give blood to it,
But it’s going to get us in the end.
It’s already got me.
I will kill in the name of everything.
I’d have it no other way.
My brother Eric would have no other way.
Everything has given us perspective.
We live to experience it.
We are here to defend everything
We will.

You don’t need to carry me—-because I will carry you through the everything.
This has gotten bigger than me, bigger than you
And I know that you can’t handle it.
I know that you will fall, so I am here to carry it through.
I will.
Everything is mine—-I’ve lived too much to deny it.
I’ve given up too much to say no now.
I’ve been all over, and it’s still coming with me.
Climb onto me—cry onto me—ride unto me—and let me erase your pain.
If you think that you are ready—-you’re not.
Only the ones that aren’t ready are the ones that are.
I’m ready, and I am scared as hell.
I hope that we’re wrong.
I hope I am full of shit.
I’m not.
You’re seeing the everything in action.
An experience you’d rather forget.
An experience that only I am used to.
An experience that only I am ready to carry.
::You wanted everything, and it was given to you::
no more crying, no more strength
no more pain, no more dependence
all that there is is everything, and a few that can carry us.

sometimes we all need something to fall back on.
we all need that one thing to remember when shit gets constipated.
i remembered that no matter where i am, i’m the only one willing
to do something about it.
tired of hearing the old “i’m tired, and besides, someone else will do it for me”.
can i get a “FUCK THAT” from the crowd?
like i said before—-fucking do it. be the one that EARNS respect.
don’t be the whining little kid who gets respect based on name-dropping, or the clothes they wear…kill em all is what i say these days.
search and destroy, if that makes your mouth water…
when was it cool to whine about wimmen? never.
fuck you fred durst.
sick of your complaining about it, after 3 albums.
ever heard Hank say that shit for more than 2 seconds? he should stomp your guts in, you pussy.
whatever happened to the strong man–the man who wasn’t afraid of some hard work?
the man who wasn’t afraid of callouses on his hand.
the man with the balls to walk alone…

or woman, for all you p.c. nazis out there.
what happened to respect?
when did cliques take over the world?
now, i feel more alone than i ever have.
i feel like an air-conditioner in the midst of fans—similar, but definitely different.
it’s about time we stopped being afraid of the majority.
about time we stood up for our responsibility.
about time we took back what we have given up to the trendy little drug pushers that run the countries now, and burn all trendy cothe-shops.
explain the gap commercials to me–cause i don’t get that shit.

maybe i just don’t get anything anymore, except hard work and lack of respect.

do it or don’t do it…
scream to live, or meekly die.
stand tall, or sit and watch teevee.
be strong, or don’t.
don’t ever TRY–do it, or don’t.
there is no try in my mind, i either do it, or i don’t.
i didn’t do it tonight.
i will.
i screamed with a rebel yell at the contradiction, and the lack of information.
what more can i do? try?
no.
i WILL do it, or it will not be done by anyone.
i will stand strong, or it will not be done by anyone.
i am the small fish in the ocean.
i WILL be the big fish.
or i won’t.
i will.
like billy idol says–”i’ll walk with a natural glide”
and it will be done.
why do i miss you?
i do.
do i try?
no.
i do what i am asked to do.
if not, then it is not done.
but i never “try” to do it.
i either do it, or not.
i need a straight path though.
i need to know the way to get it done.
i know it is read.
i can’t do it alone.
i’ve got feelings too.
yes, i do.
i wonder how i can be with someone.
i wonder how i can make them as happy as they make me.
i wonder how i can treat them the way that they treat me.
but i can’t…sometimes, i don’t want to.
sometimes i fall, and i need to be picked up.
catch my fall.
either do it, or don’t.
but don’t “try” to catch me.
all i want is for me to be acknowledged
that i am doing what has been asked of me.
i can’t get it.
so i must not be.
maybe that means i do it for myself?
no.
if i only did it for me, i never would do it.
i do it because i have to.
i do it because you asked me to.
nothing i do is for me.
i stand tall for you.
i “do” what you need me to do.

may be wrong, but i do what i think is right.
i won’t try ever again–i will either do it, or not.
but i need help.

visit my world, or don’t.
don’t “try” to understand it.

give me respect, or give the extreme opposite.
don’t give me the fake shit that i’ve been getting.

all i want is a straight tongue…
a tongue that can set me free.

a tongue that’s not afraid to tell me when i’ve fucked up.
not afraid to tell me how it should be when i am wrong.

not afraid to tell me what they feel.

sometimes it feels hopeless—–i do what i think is right, only to be wrong. i haven’t done it.
i WILL do it.

i owe it.
i do not because i owe, but because i can’t quit.
not because i have to, i want to.

i don’t ask much.
i want fairness.

i want a fair dialogue.
i want a fair consciousness.

do it, or don’t.

but don’t give me something, then take it away.
don’t give me something, then change it.

give me truth.
give me respect.
give me compassion.
give me America.

i have earned it.
i’ve done whatever has been asked of me.
stubborn though i am, i always make room
and time for it.
always make room for you comfort.
always make time for your tears.
always make time for your voice.
always make time for your thoughts.
always do what you ask me to do.

can i be blamed for being wrong?
no.
i do it.
if i didn’t care, i wouldn’t do it.
wouldn’t be here now if i didn’t care about it.

i will do it.
i will do it well.
but i will not change your mind…that is up to you.

Been working in a lumberyard lately. callouses cover my entire body now… had some gin, and realized that i am not meant to be in this world.
i miss the days of truth. how hard is it to tell someone how it is?
not very hard.
tell that to the people i know.
tell that to tbe people i used to work for.
tell that to the people i talk to.
point::
when i sit at the pub, i like to sit and enjoy gin/whiskey like i always do–never talking, always drinking.
someone talks to me like they care, i treat it as such.
i engage them.
moments later, they don’t know me…..must be the almighty gap/abercrombie syndrome.
the syndrome where if you don’t get laid for the clothes you wear, then you suck.
makes me sick beyond it all.
like ryan said—-i sit here alone, i live alone, and if this trend continues i will perish alone…
i was there on that bench, brutha.
so lonely it is out here.
toenail and asshair cluppings are all the human contact i see now.
the only sign of “intelligent” life.
last note:
if you refer to yourself as “firecrotch”, then you have some AWESOME S.O problems.

rick—it seems like you are in a good state now………..
jesse is not.
do you what today is?
summer solstace, the home of the double bass, my birth.
and only 2 people showed me they care.
yeah—i have friends.
i want to kill tonight.

i want to show the world the pain it has shown me.
i want to show the world the neglect it has shown me.

i suppose i will let it slide, until veteran’s day, and then usmc birthday(day after each other).
if i get no respect—–I WILL FREAK OUT ON ALL HIPPIES.
i’m sick of being ignored, for alll of my service of this country.
i’m sick of hippies talking about vietnam, like “damn baby killers”–tell bill shileds that.
tell that to MY face.
goodbye tongue.
gave their lives for you———have some respect.
walk the wall, and find your buddia—tell them that they died for nothing.
if you won’t hold it——i will, brother.