Thursday, October 30, 2008

From Wheeler's wedding

 
 
 
 
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Pics of me from Last month

 
 
 
 
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Monday, October 20, 2008

Eyes

In my head are swirling memories and thoughts, things that I cover up with my charisma and my freakishly large ego. People look at me and figure I am an ass hole or someone who is amazing to hang out with. Little do they know that in my head I harbor secrets that scare even me, the keeper of them. Secrets about how I feel about myself, secrets about what kind of person I see in the mirror when I open my eyes and actually look at myself...

Go ahead all of you who have read my blog and decided that I am someone you'd like to meet, tell me how wrong I am, or how I'm a good person, but you are not me, you don't really know what is in my head or what my eyes have seen. I write and tell you of the things I have done, of the death I have born witness to and of the death I have caused. I feel no shame for my actions, regret for some, but shame? No. For that I may burn in hell, and perhaps I deserve to, but fuck anyone who dares judge me.

When I look in the mirror I see the cold dark eyes that I use to mask my thoughts, or at other times I see those warm friendly eyes that belong to a handsome man who is a good father and a good provider. Regardless of those eyes, I know what lies behind them... Maybe I look at my eyes to make sure that they are opaque, that none of you (those who know me, or those who read my writing) will ever see even a glimpse of what lies behind them. I do not like looking into my eyes. It makes me sad to see what is behind them. I pull my slight of hand with those in my life so that they are focusing on the carefree unembarrassed fun individual I bring to them, as opposed to the monster or the hurt soul with all of it's cracks and wounds. A soul that is amazing to me because of the fact that it is even there at all.

My soul... My inner being, that is so flawed that I don't even know what to say. I can tell you all of this because I still do not lead on as to what is behind my eyes. I merely tell you the symptom of it all. So... My soul, it was once some marble statue created by God to be a beautiful form of man. What I have now is a cracked thing who's glory has long since passed. An unpolished broken and deformed version of what you have inside of yourself.

My soul is strong, yes, behind all those cracks and behind exactly how horrid it is, it still maintains its strength. It is like the scars on a shark. They were all wounds that have healed, and while the body is a disgusting mass of healed flesh the shark is more powerful because of its wounds. Each one of those brutal lacerations have taught it a lesson and it is where it's at because of them.

I am that shark. Judge me if you will, I may even deserve it, but I will always hold my head high, I will not ever let you in. As I said before, behind my eyes are things that can still make me cry, those things are only for me to see; even then they belong hidden away from all but the deepest chasms of my memory.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

A Fork in the Road

Choices are made every day, but have you ever reached a cusp where you felt the power of your decision at hand? A place where you are about to choose something that will affect the rest of your life? I am at that cross road, with a journey at hand and no idea if the bag I have packed is even adequate.

Decisions will be made that can not be unmade, life changing decisions but those same decisions can possibly bring me happiness. Happiness, what does that even mean? It has been so long for me since I have felt felt it that I had forgotten what it meant. Forgot what happiness was.

So, do you take the hard choice of the unknown in hopes that it brings you to a new and exciting place? A place where you can feel again? Or do you remain on the path you are on, the path which you have been riding around for years, where you are comfortable with all the same turns, nothing is new and you already know that you will not find happiness if you remain on this path.

Yeah, in retrospect the choice is not as difficult as I make it out to be. As each foot hits the ground the steps get easier and the unknown grows less frightening.

God, help me to feel again.