When you call my name it's like a little prayer

At catholic school, a priest would come around to each class and rub a cross of ash on our heads.
i'd walk around the rest of the day on my high horse feeling both holy and dirty. It doesn't work if you wipe it off or something, that's what becky said and she had hers so i had mine too.

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return"

The priest says this before he presses his thumb to your forehead. As if i needed to be reminded about death. I had trouble sleeping as it was, night after night instead: flashlight and comic book, listening to crickets in silence, country music on a static filled radio station, and my favorite- face down rubbing myself into the mattress.

It's why i did the bad things i did. The cursing, the searching for dirty magazines in the woods, the touching myself. I was a kid but i had to be reminded I was this ash on my head and in the end I'm going to be dust. when was this end? tonight? tomorrow? So, I rubbed myself and hard and if it was a sin it didn't feel like it. It couldn't be. I wasn't dead. I wasn't dust. I was sweating and thinking about girls and the way their bodies must feel and i couldn't wait to.

All that ash and stained-glass settled in and now it reminds me of short skirts and panties and the mother mary is pale and beautiful.

In the beginning of lent we were supposed to give something up that we liked very much. There is this excitement at school because everyone is trying hard to be good and you know it makes things worse. It was always between ash Wednesday and Easter things got interesting for me. It was as if every temptation was thrown at me or maybe i was just more aware of them. It was when girls started to notice me.

Becky shows me her days of the week panties, it starts on Thursday. blue. I never see Saturday, but i do Sunday. white. my favorite pair being Monday. pink.

Bunnies and eggs played a mixed up part I'm sure, but it started with the ash. The dirt that was dust and the dust that I'm to become.

snow flakes fall and boom goes the heart

I'd say this years
ending note
won't be a punch in the gut.
maybe a loose choke out.
nothing to bruise you
like youre used to, like you like
and need.

it's okay if you do,
and why don't you
find me-
i see the marks
i left on you
have all but
faded.

I'm having trouble thinking up a shiny brief statement- let's see, I promise to do better and be better and let it all go?

highly unlikely. i just keep running , sweating, writing, bleeding, strumming, drumming, coming, going. eating cake. Will it ever be enough to fill your belly, like i did before?

and will there ever be a bigger question as to why?
was there ever any question? if there was, i hope you know
by now.

the silence
and void
is hard
to fill

even
with words.

boom.


photos\art:
goodwinterdeviantart
scott radke

awesome retro face

Time:
look at your watch. look at the clock on the wall. look at the bottom of your computer screen. remember the time. remember you spent it with me on my birthday.

our moments together slipping. I'm racing to write it all down but I've already forgotten half of what made it so great. The rest is inside me. I get another wish today. but i wouldn't feel right fucking her again or would I? i get cake. cake with candles, cake with frosting, cake with ants.
think about something you want and you'll get it. (except to get younger)

i like her to wear purple. i like when she wears the purple dress. purple eye-shadow. it's her best color and she might not even know it. Or is it green? It could be green. either way we are going out tonight. either way her panties to match purple or green. we are staying in or I'm picking her up or we'll just snuggle on the sofa. I'll pet her head and tell her to be good.

I know she isn't going to sing for me and if she did- not well. she fakes her way through it. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if she just stood there and smiled. happy- happy-happy.


it's carved into me. carved into my cake. my mother called me, my sister emailed, and my soon- to- be wife made me a notebook. I get a wish and I'm going to write it down in that book. Don't let me forget. I'm writing it down like this:
I've had my cake. I've had you. everything is the way it should be. 10\14\08. she loves me. she loved me. I wish everyone to be as lucky as me.

interested in seeing what i got?: tumblr

promise i don't have to worry

it took some time to get over each other, which really meant they were playing bows and arrows in different parts of the woods. the sharp edges filed down, the distance and silence.
so they wouldn't get hurt.
which meant: Yes, time, but also forgiveness.
which meant: learning closure has nothing to do with moving on, but more with going beyond.

the underlying love and
hate towards each other faded into a strange friendship that developed years later.
despite their age difference they still shared what can only be explained as chemical connection.
a twisted attraction both dangerous and troubling. A devils trick or a little joke played by god. but, something either could do much about. by the end it never really mattered.
now, he is good advice and warm skin.
she is
his sunshine in the distance.


someone hurts you that bad. that good.
in a strange way you can do nothing more than admire them.
how many times in this short life will you get to feel
the moon light
kiss-
like electric
over your skin?
to him, that was her.

A beginning with
no end.
and to her he's
become
the inescapable truth
the eventual
choice of silence
and
living
with the ghosts of his
words

Strawberry Milk

She was feisty and punchy with a dark sense of humor. During our play fights, she often would threaten to punch me so hard in my kidney that i would, as she said.... pee blood. Jokingly, she would point out boys we passed on the street or in stores or waiting on corners for busses. If she thought they were cute she'd ask me if it was okay for her to maybe.. ... to you know...just a little. She was bad and she said It was me who made her that way.

I've been dirty since 1st grade. I fondly remember my first erection. it was little becky getting spanked by Sister Mary in front of the entire class. her plaid skirt hiked up, bent over an orange plastic chair. was there gum underneath the chair? boogers? how dirty. I also noticed beckys hair, pigtails tied with green bows. flying every which way smack after smack. the fact she was in trouble for talking to me, made it all the more exciting. The crocodile tears and whimpering. all for me. Becky -her strawberry-milk pink panties. She told me later it didn't even hurt.

I turned from a dirty little boy into a dirty young man and now i am fully preparing myself for e dirty old man status.
I am telling her this story and she punches me in the side. See if you don't pee blood now. I fake-punch her kidney and instead tickle her side. She laughs and squeals like a little girl. I tell her i won't stop until she pees her pants just a little.

Once, she bought me an 80's E.T. collectible glass from a thrift store. She got it cause it had one of E.T.s cute little catch phrases on it:
BE GOOD.
Something I used to say her. something i still say. It was like instead of saying goodbye. be good. A joke but not. Something she hated and loved. something she was and wasn't always. something we are and never could be.



Does anyone drink strawberry milk? and like it.

Glitter and Doom

Willy Wonka: Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he always wanted.
Charlie Bucket: What happened?
Willy Wonka: He lived happily ever after.

At a major electronics\dept store late night to pick up a few things - went to the cd and gaming section and was fussing around with a controller hanging off some video game they had on display. ( I don't own a system and havent since Atari 2600) I thought the place was dead empty but a girl came over and started asking me about my ink and then if I have played such and such game. No. I said this thing just sorta caught my eye when i walked by and I couldnt kick my hands of it. I admitted that I didn't even have a system and don't really like playing video games. She looked at me strangely and told me she was a nerd or geek or something. gaming was fun and i should get into it. then we got into a discussion about the word "nerd" and "geek". words and meanings being far more interesting to me. I told her how I saw it was that "geek" implies hireabilty, it implies wealth, and that "nerd" skills aren't 100 percent sellable. She told me i was seemed very smart , a "very wise man" - making me feel more like her dad, which I think was not far off from being possible.

I speak and act in a totally unrestricted manner to animals. I tell them that I love them and touch and pet and hold. They make me feel all warm and cuddly. sometimes I wish I could be the same way with humans. It probably has something to do with fear of rejection. control. whatever. but i don't know. those cute little furry faces. How can anyone resist?

I couldn't keep my hands off you, you made me feel warm. I even told her that I loved her. silly me. silly silly me.

bottom photo: circle--of--fire

A beautiful disguise

"Fuck," Renana said, licking her stubby fingers, "We don't fuck. Not that it's a big deal or anything. It's just that, when you're 'a fuck on the side' and the whole sex thing stops, then you're nothing but 'on the side', know what I mean? I'm not saying it's a deal breaker or anything, it's just, you know, a little weird. Because with your wife, even if you don't fuck, you can still visit her parents or fight about who loads the dishwasher, all the normal couple things. But when it happens with a lover, it sort of pulls the rug out." - Etgar Keret

Why the eggs and bunnies ? I couldn't figure that out back in Catholic School and the Nun's never quite answered our questions. What do 5th graders need to know anyway?
Good Friday. How could I forget. At 7:30 a.m sharp. Head to rectory, knock on door 3 taps. I was told to put on my robe. Altar-boy, boy-wonder. It was said we shouldn't eat meat on Good Friday, not told why, and we'd also get to leave school early.
The church smelled like incense and old books, like god and holy water. Like wax and candy.
I always wondered what it would feel like to drip candle wax on a girl. I wondered this because there were always so many candles lit in the church. Even early in the morning. Who had to light all these candles? was it a person, was it god, or saints? Was it the Easter bunny. I wondered about the wax because I had tried it on my arm and it wasn't so bad. I liked the red color that was first liquid and like blood and then cooling hard and dry.
After church, after the party and refreshments, after school. I waited for my ride(Mom) with this red-headed girl named Jennie. Her Mom was always late picking her up too. I liked her because she carried a little radio in her back-pack. Her pack was a fuzzy panda-bear. She offered me gum and turned on the radio. Disco. I pretended to like it.
Then that new song from Sugar Hill Gang came on "Rapper's Delight" - I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie to the hip hip hop, a you don't stop the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat....

There were no more buses left, and just a few cars in the parking-lot. Jennie bopped her head side to side. Hippie the hoppin. I had the words mostly memorized already. I turned the radio up and she moved and tried to rap and it was funny. Her Easter basket was filled with candy, glittery green straw, and plastic colored eggs. We ate jelly-beans from my basket to pass the time. She sat down under a tree and I could see up her skirt. Pink. Light pink panties with a bright trim. She spread her legs apart more and I sat in front of her Indian-style. Easter-basket over my lap because it had to be. The sun was shaded by tree branches. I was glad our Mom's were late. Abba was playing now. The reception faded in and out every time a bird or plane flew overhead. Something about a Dancing queen only 17. I wondered about us at 17, we could drive cars and go to concerts, stay up late and have sex. All night, all night. Anytime we wanted. We could get married and make babies. We could go to church on Sunday's . Communion, wafers, tube socks. Name our kids Isabella, Poppy or Gumdrop. Or that could be our dog.

"Do you like dogs." I ask her
"I like dogs and bunnies and panda-bears."
I'd ask her to marry me now if only ........ If Only.
" I see your Mom's car at the corner" she said squinting her eyes. I stood up with my basket still in front of my lap. " Have a good Easter break" I mumble.
I like the way she talks to me drawing out her words like sweet southern tea.
" Hey, but, I'll see you in church, -just two days Christian, Sun-day....in your wonder boy costume....you're cute up there in your....
I dropped the basket and grabbed her behind the neck and pulled her close and kissed her with my eyes closed tight. Maybe it's something i saw on T.V. maybe it's just what I wanted.
...........in- your- robe." She finished slowly. She took a breath. I took a breath. Watermelon and jellybean taste on my mouth. I picked up my basket leaving the 4 brightly colored eggs that had fell out on to the dirt and leaves. We stepped from behind the tree as my Mother pulled up and honked for me to get in the car. I walked away from and then into more radio static. Close the door. More disco. "Tragedy" Bee Gees. My mother saying "blah blah blah I can't believe the traffic, need to cook Easter dinner..blah blah how was school, who is that girl waving". I looked out the window where Jennie pointed to herself, formed a heart with her hands and then pointed to me. I came to the conclusion that the eggs and bunnies had something to do with fertility and the flowers that were soon to bloom. It was Good Friday.

and now she will put me back together

I had this plan. It would turn 2008 and magically things would be better. It was that simple.

Change things up a bit, a new username or two. Concepts and ideas. Get healthy. Try to forget her best I can. Re-group. Write some awesome stories from time to time, review books, movies, music. Possibly make new friends. new muses.

But really all it's been is one thing after other.

I say this sitting here on a generic Vicodin buzz. I don't like charting my demise in blog form. It isn't becoming. It isn't anything but whining.

I have already realized the fact I am getting older and not younger. Things break down. At times. I break down. My body fails me.

A few weeks back a tooth I had fixed last year. Cracked again. The crown cracked. I have little dental work in my mouth. I have taken a huge amount of pride in taking care of my teeth. yearly cleanings, floss, wash, sonic tooth brush. But this ONE tooth. Its been filled, re-filled, then root-canal, crown, cracked, re-crown, cracked, re crown.

About two days after having the old crown taken off and a temp put in. (approx 3 weeks ago)I get a swelling just behind my left ear. It gets bigger and bigger as the day goes on. Until its fucking scary big. I rarely get sick. So I freak when something happens like this. I run to the Dr. He says I have an abscess on the back of my tonsil. It was a Friday. he gave me a shot and more drugs and said to watch it. If it gets bigger go to the hospital I might have to have it drained!!! What. He assures me that he doubts it will come to that. It didn't It down in about a week.

Then I go last week to get the permanent crown back in my mouth. It goes good. there is the typical swelling. The gum hurts adjusting to this new piece of white porcelain. But then on this past Sunday it hurts. It throbs. This is not normal. I am up all night. I am crying. literally crying it hurts to much.

Today I go to my Dentist. An X-ray shows that my original root canal that is over 10 years old could be bad. The tooth, what is left of it, may be fractured. He sends me out to a oral surgeon. He will either give me another root canal or clean it out and seal it. I go.

Instead he suggests I just pull the damn thing. It hurts and I want too. I want so bad. Fine. The tooth has pissed me off for so many years. let's be done with it. In a few months Ill get a single implant and its good as new. I make may choice. PULL.

I am in the chair. But before he starts he takes me Blood Pressure. once, twice, again. NO I cant pull it he says. 'your blood pressure is to high, you could stroke out if I give you the sedation and numbing needed" He gives me these Vicodins and antibiotics instead. tells me to get my BP under control first. My mouth fucking hurts, my head. I haven't slept in 2 days. I call my Doctor Doctor. I am going tomorrow. I took BP meds about 3 or 4 years ago but got it under control and went off them. to much salt, to much something. Its way up and I am so fucked now.

This Vicodin is already starting to wear off. He said there is a chance with the antibiotics that my tooth infection around the root canal may clear up. It might go back to normal and I can wait to get the eventual yank out. I hope so. I don't know.

I am still waiting for that magic to happen. That simple plan. The follow through.

Right now. I am only falling apart.