I’m not a bad guy says who

You not me, me because all the things I have done to those who were around me,

When the time was right I should say wrong

I’m not a bad guy.

I tell myself as I get older to enlighten

The fact I exist in a place made of cement and metal,

I’m not a bad guy I just do shitty things

For the fuck of it,

Maybe I wanted to be the bad guy

Joker to Batman

Green Goblin to Spider Man

Or maybe I’m not a bad guy at this moment in my life

I’m not a bad guy

I swear on what you ask

No I just curse a lot.

I’m not a bad guy

I just play one on tv

In a big world things can seem so small at times.

You can feel like you’re on the top of the world at times as well.

In a big world you can travel and explore

See things and do things that some people may never do.

In a big world whoever thought I’d be the one to take a father’s life and leave his kids with no dad, for the rest of their life.

In a big world I can run and hide from all my problems and pretend they’re not real, but what kind of person would I be if I did. I’m not a bad guy.

In a big world I can make an impact on people’s lives. I can share my experience and the struggles I’ve gone through.

In a big world I still have a chance to forgive myself.

In a big world I’m not alone.

In a big world I can change.

It’s better that way.
Better for who?              
People don’t like it.
But, that is what it is legally.
People don’t like it. They’re not comfortable with it.
Well what about us?
It was a conversation I had with my father-in-law.
Although, I guess I should just call him Bob.
I do anyway.                                                                    
He isn’t anything like my father.
And the legality of it doesn’t seem to work for him.
So, Bob it is.
He is a good man in many ways.
He would fight for you.
He fought for his country.
But don’t flaunt who you are.
Of course being who I am is part of what he fought for, sort of.
My freedom.
I used to want to fight because I was right.
Now it isn’t that I don’t think I’m right.
I just don’t want to fuel the fight.
I’m confident in who I am now.
Sobriety plays a huge role.

I want to go back
to a place we use to be
where i knew nothing and spoke so much
you were so delighted with me

chords were meant to be pulled
and timing was about showing up
there was never too little
there was always enough

make the days of rain my sun shine
make me your queen of sleeting snow
no judgment no right or wrongs
no  come baby put on a real good shown

take me back to my wristwatch
when a second waiting for you seem like a day
I would change my clothes a dozen times
and then you would tear them away

Has the river of our own wants
ran the river dry
Have we done to much in the name of each other lies
You lost the woman I lost the Guy

The guy of my dreams
The guy of my heart
The guy the would wait, wait, wait
In the dark

I see you with my eyes
You have a song on your mind
I have another disguise
to hide your disappointment

Bring me back to our hollywood lights
of only you and me
both clever and kind  in our own rights
we both had  dignity

I taste that memory
of love in the afternoon
a day of doing nothing and we would write a song
You loved me and I loved you 

How do I shade the disappointment I see in your eyes
You say no but I feel the need to cry
I am not fraud, I am not a lie, I have been me all time
just me myself and I

Let me run my fingers up the scale of what is left
find the notes of harmony in my whispered breath
dark needs light and light needs dark
the same as I need you and you need me......

right ?

I want to tell you something IMPORTANT...
But I am fearful...
You don’t listen ... really listen...
You hear, look attentive... but...
DISMISS ME!
My thoughts
My feelings
My actions
My words.

I actually am no longer fearful...
I just know:
YOU DON’T LISTEN
You won’t listen
You don’t want to listen.

You play king...
But at the expense of me...
And often the expense of others too.

The Emperor’s New Clothes...
I can see them on you now...
You won’t change...

You DON’T  WANT to understand.
So I have to....
I have to change my acceptance of your behavior.

I love the emperor, but hate your wardrobe...
AND ALWAYS HAVE!!!

The first time I can remember ever drinking, at least more than just a single small sip for taste, given with "permission", I was the age of ten. I can remember going over to my friend's house We'll call her M. M & I played computer a while, but grew bored. Tried going a walk, to realized yet again that there simply wasn't much to do in the small town of Palmer. Back at her place, she suggested we try a bit of her mother's Kahlua from the fridge, mixed with some low-fat milk. It was good, sweet and creamy, with a very mild alcoholic taste to it. I drank until my head felt light. I drank until I felt funny. I drank until I couldn't stop laughing. I drank just until I knew I'd want to do it again when given the chance. Which didn't take much for a 10-year-old female under 5 feet.

It was 10:30 and into the room arrived a beautiful, tame canine. His short hair shown every shade of brown when in the sunlight. He was not too large, nor too tiny. He had a friendly, somewhat calm, but also quite playful demeanor. He picked up a small pink stuffed elephant gently with his pointy yellow teeth, residing in his strong jaw. He brought unto me this little toy, and looked longingly at me with his big chocolate eyes, almost as if to ask me to throw it across the room. I proceeded, and the good boy quickly chased it; catching it just before it hit the wooden floor.

I am the one who is often too quiet. I am the one who can get so in-my-head that I have a social anxiety attack around the same friends I should feel perfectly comfortable with by now. It's not in the way that some people break down and have "real" anxiety attacks; but instead it's in the way that I simply freeze up. I can't remember how to articulate words, sentences, my thoughts. Can't remember how to make eye contact, nor even control the faces I'm making (i.e. unintended dirty looks). Sometimes, when it's at its worst, I can't even remember how to listen to the person talking to me. Odd, because other times I can do all of those things without effort. Why is that? And what can help? Sometimes drinking helps, especially when paired with weed. Acid's great too, just one tab or two if it's weak. But somehow other times that seems to be what makes it even worse. Is it ADD? Hopefully one day I'll be able to fix these flaws about myself.

I am from a place

Where the drug of choice

Is the smell of salt on the sea air

Stigmata of jellyfish

And aching calves from sand walking

The ocean rocks me as I lie down to sleep.

The old ones say it didn’t used to look like this

But spindly plants in the dunes still hold the earth together

And jagged sand still hurts sunburned faces.

The word in Italian for when an object hits the water is Patatunfete.

The word in English for when an object hits the water is Splash.

Does patatunfete sound like an object hitting the water? Yes it does.

Does splash sound like an object hitting the water? Yes it does.

Does patatunfete sound like splash?

We listen with the same ears

How differently we hear.

Chasing and yet never catching.

Waking again on this lifeless treadmill designed to do and accomplish one goal.

Chase the dragon & feed the hunger of crack and heroin addiction

Maybe 24 hours, maybe 3 or 4 days.

I've been up and moving through those grey days before, for, almost a week.

Anyway the only colors I see are the flames touching, heating, crackling transparent glass

the color of blood red.

Have not seen sun, sky, moon or stars. Only the flame.

Everyday praying its the last day

28 days later

feeling, seeing, sensing, colorful air breezing through my heart, mind and soul

Have not felt so alive in oh so long.

Looking at life through a brand new set of eyes.

Finding life tastes so incredibly sweet.

Embracing this new life albeit surrounded by prison bars,

returning from court with a new lease starting tomorrow 

A treatment program mandation.

Thanking God & the Judge for saving my life.

Confident I can feel this free for eternity

Its all up to me.............

Something I want to accomplish is total liberation of body, mind and spirit, to extinguish my ego and be more connected to God and be alleviated of all my suffering. To begin this I must continue on the path I'm on and find new awarenesses of consciousness and attain oneness with God by meditation, prayer and study. I need to attend 12 step meetings and church. I may not achieve this in this lifetime, but I want to cut the the number of my incarnations down so I don't have to keep coming back and I can get there. 

In the moment it seemed like the right choice.

The moon shuddered a ghostly wave.

The risk was inside an empty grave.

That is to say the first time I drank

It seemed like the right thing to do,

kind of like reaching an unknown goal

or when a sudden flash of insight appears

and you actually remember it.

That night of the beers I was about 16

on the old dump grounds.

I still recall lining up the Schlitz bottles

on the hand of an acquaintance waiter

who was working washing dishes at the Middlebury Inn,

did his best Dennis Hopper from Easy Rider

talking about Aliens.

I rode my bike home thru the wobbling covered bridge,

passed out on the screened in porch

and was off to the races.

It did seem like a fun thing to do,

lucky it did not kill me as

since I have had at least 4 or 5 blackouts while driving.

Now I hopefully shine the light of prayer on similar situations.

It occurs to me that
It would have been all too easy
For my story to end like his.
Hundreds of times vomiting,
wiping my mouth and carrying on
until it was all gone.
Being sick wasn't the end.
How strange it is to me
that a man whose tolerance
far surpassed mine is the one
the beast took down.
Wrestled him to the ground
and pinned him there.
But he was so much stronger
than me. My bionic man,
metal parts and childhood scar stories.
He had lived his teenage years
keeping his mother forever holding her breath.
An addiction was the most terrifying prospect yet.
A true beast.
I watched it ravage him
like a lion on a gazelle
and still, I have the urge to pet it.
Feed it from afar in hopes
it will someday let me have a casual relationship
visit on the weekends and
ruffle its mane with my fingers.
I am not afraid of beasts.
I am afraid of the way I want to befriend them
and invite them home.

Here's what keeps her awake at night:
This bed is a sea
endless and without horizon
too much space here
where there used to be a man.

Here's what keeps her awake at night:
The glaring and unforgiving truth
life does not get better
you get better,
and it does not happen idly.

Here's what keeps her awake at night:
A thousand unaccomplished tasks,
due bills and unwashed dishes
dog hair covered floors
adulthood sent away on sabbatical.

Here's what keeps her awake at night:
The promise of one more
I love you, stolen away
greedily and hungrily by another
who spat it on the side of the road.

Here's what keeps her awake at night:
Shaking legs and anxious, roaming hands
racetrack thoughts on their third lap
insomnia bittersweet and sour
that takes as many hours as it gives.

Here's some good advice from the true me:
*There is a voice inside you, away from influence and fear, listen to it.
*Instinct has kept us alive for longer than anxiety will.
*Remember that no one can identify your boundaries but you.
*Learn as early as you can that people will love you the way you love yourself.
*Know where your roots are. Where home is, your safety net, but never forget the importance of branches.
*Never take anyone too seriously. Especially yourself.
*Walk barefoot, swim naked, dance in the moonlight. The earth is where we all come from and go back to.
*Breathe deep and never stop growing. Agony is not the presence of pain but the absence of learning.

Here's how I hit reset. I take a step back and realize I'm headed in a direction in which I don't really want to go. What did my old sponsor tell me? “Don't open your mouth if you don't want anything bad to come out! STOP! Pause. Think about what you were going to say and try hearing it from the other side. Would you like someone speaking to you that way? NO?? Think and re-frame. Are you hungry? Angry? Lonely? Tired? How can you keep it civil? Say what you mean and mean what you say, but don't be mean!”

It's taken me the best part of the past 30 years to get the high drama out of my life. I discovered that it is not nice to manipulate people into doing what you want. Instead, be clear about your intentions and ask nicely. Respect other people's wishes. Don't be curt or have a voice dripping with disappointment, anger, sarcasm, condensation or tears...all are tools of manipulation. Don't be a martyr. No one likes a martyr! Take a step back, take deep breath, set your boundaries, say a little prayer and don't allow anyone to manipulate you! Then you can feel good about the outcome and live a somewhat harmonious life.

When this winter's finally over, the roots of my soul will branch out into the cosmos of eternal being. The I that is me will grow into the awareness of the connectedness we share in the humble psyches of consciousness and the now of the Spirit will once more work at egolessness in the quest to become whole and the One will once again resume into the activities that bring clearer realization of the divine aspects of body, mind and spirit.

Knitted thin white fabric,
Twice as wide as my bunk,
And long enough to fold under my feet.
I lie on top of my sheet at night,
And pull my blanket over my head.

Why do some people pull the newspapers
Over their heads to hide the truth?
Do they find comfort in the
Misfortunes of others?
Maybe they are just too lazy to ask questions.