I am guilty, I am war, I am the Root of All Evil

I am not at the wheel of control
I am not at the wheel of control

Today I met someone not unlike myself in many ways. Twenty-something, college educated, reasonable New Hampshire upbringing, self-deprecating humor.
That, however, is where the likeness stopped. This man spoke of polar ice caps melting, he delivered upon an a discussion with words such as, bigotry, hatred and lack-less adulthood.
Though I claim dyslexia as the heaven’s punishment on me, along with many other things.
This young many agreed with his learning disability, embraced it and used it to his advantage.
Not narrow of mind but straight by heart, I heard courage ring out in his continuous search for knowledge. Homophobia, he stated, is not a state of mind, it is a state of unrest from within.
Hatred of unknown origin was and is our biggest human downfall. For with it, none but ourselves can be imprisoned. We incarcerate via environment and a gutless unwillingness to change.
I wanted to grasp every word out of the air and embrace it. For, the other side of the coin, is mine.
Ignorance, bigotry and disdain. Sloth, impunity and infinite indifference is the stepping stone to helping others with skills I do not possess.
For just that one moment, between Ambien, Trazodone and a boatload of other mind altering drugs, the need to get off my ass and really mean what I say, hit me like a down east wind from a shit factory.
As with most vacant spaces, though, the winds came to quick for my uncoordinated grasp and I let go of the thought.
I just smiled at the young man and said, ‘Would you like to sign our petition to free homing pigeons?’
Lost in the moment but back to dumb and dumb-founded.

I am a backseat driver from America
They drive to the left on Falls Road
The man at the wheel’s name is Seamus
We pass a child on the corner he knows
And Seamus says, “Now, what chance has that
Kid got?”
And I say from the back, “I don’t know.”
He says, “There’s barbed wire at all of these exits
And there ain’t no place in Belfast for that kid
To go.”

If we poison our children with hatred   Then, the hard life is all that they'll know
If we poison our children with hatred
Then, the hard life is all that they’ll know

It’s a hard life
It’s a hard life
It’s a very hard life
It’s a hard life wherever you go
If we poison our children with hatred
Then, the hard life is all that they’ll know
And there ain’t no place in (Belfast) for
These kids to go

A cafeteria line in Chicago
The fat man in front of me
Is calling black people trash to his children
He’s the only trash here I see
And I’m thinking this man wears a white hood
In the night when his children should sleep
But, they slip to their window and they see him
And they think that white hood’s all they need

I was a child in the sixties
Dreams could be held through TV
With Disney, and Cronkite, and Martin Luther
Oh, I believed, I believed, I believed
Now, I am the backseat driver from America
I am not at the wheel of control
I am guilty, I am war, I am the root of all evil
Lord, and I can’t drive on the left side of the road

Ambien Scares the Shit Out of Me

anger (Photo credit: anyone123)

Not much going down…tonight. Big women and big boys scattered about Winchester VA and me, Ambien Grace, scattered about with me thoughts. My Mummy thought I had anger issues. The slicing, the dicing, the throwing of heavy objects against walls, the outbursts and the threats. When I had been getting fucked this summer, 3 or 4 times a day, the anger left. Flew right out of me with ever lurch and convulsion of my body. Whether it was love or not? Fuck if I know. I did receive a song in my name out of the whole untidy nip and suck:

She’s gonna ruin your looks with all the lies in the book!
She’ll make a pill-popper out of you.
You’ve got to sleep with a gun and keep an eye on her, girl.
You’ve got to watch all the things she’ll do.
And when the morning arrives you’ve got that hope in your eyes.
But she’s got methods of keeping you crazed.
There’s the drugs and the rage.
The weirdo friends that she makes. The hard sex at such early age.
Ambien scares the living shit out of me.
She could care less as long as someone’ll bleed.
So darken your clothes and strike a violent pose.
Maybe she’ll leave you alone, but not me. What have I done?
Am I the reason’s she’s dumb?
Will my overspending love make her poor?
Did my witty ways spark her promiscuous phase?
Am I the reason that she’s a whore?
I’ll tell you Ambien scares the living shit out of me!

...please remember to wash after contact
…please remember to wash after contact

I got laid tonight can you tell?   Much, much, much less anger and more Ambient not so Light!

Conspiracy with Ambien Grace

The Way Out, or Suicidal Ideation: George Grie...
The Way Out, or Suicidal Ideation: George Grie, 2007. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

One of my readers had sent me a blurb on the effects of Ambien while being alive.

I took note of it and packed it away with the rest of the useless information I receive on a daily basis.  Items such as: growing up and how to get there, learning from the past, blowing up balloons to make the United States a safer place and dog training for dummies.

I couldn’t shake one thought however.  Could it be a conspiracy by the powers that be?  I am not afflicted with ignorance?  Have I not laid to waste the lives of so many?  Is it not true that my suicidal ideation and borderline tendencies have left many scratching their heads and asking, WTF!

the wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round!
the wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round!

Perhaps, the US government purposely and with malice in the flag of our fore fathers: encouraged white trash trailer bunnies such as my birth Mom to go ahead and fuck everything in sight.  And, by doing so, a pile of human waste starting at Lakes Region Hospital, NH, rolled down to Texas, leaving several other Ambien decedents in it’s path.

Like the masons, to which my Adopt-A-Grandpa, Ed, belonged, the society of Tucked Away but Fucked Up Ambien Workers, have infiltrated every unappreciated dumbed down nook in the fabric of our society?

I’ll have to understand more about the words I just wrote.  Perhaps, utilize Google and get back to you with an answer on that one.

For now, here’s to volunteering to paint a smiley face on the poor and impoverished, one Ambien Grace stroke at a time.

allergic reaction: hives; difficulty breathing; swelling of your encounter, lips, tongue, or throat. Buy Zolpidem on the internet.

To Lie Down with Dogs

Stupid, not really, if I have an itch...I scratch it!
Not really, if I have an itch…I scratch it!

Doesn’t anyone in your family inquire about your love life? Just sayin’.
Doesn’t anyone want to know if you’re dating someone? Isn’t it odd that you are 22 years old and not seeing anyone?


For me?  Mum doesn’t want to know!  She’d be freaked out and I’m pretty sure if I were to marry a woman she wouldn’t go…She’d be busy disowning me.  And, Daddy, well, he’s never asked!

It’s hard to be strong when you can’t be yourself and accepted by your family…

On the weekends, here at Camp What the Fuck, Virginia, I have time and fake friends on my hands.

So, this is what has landed in my empty air space-

How is it I managed two things:

I’m not marrying you while you’re married, I had told Kate. I also put my foot down to her having two wives and her unwillingness to leave Kris, the current wife. Utah was not on the AmeriCorps map nor was it on mine.

Secondly, when I witnessed the carnage of:

When I slept with Tyler I thought about you. I honestly did. Your face loomed above his while I gave him a blow job. I’d think you’d be happy ‘bout that. But if you want to make this all about you…go right ahead!
Via the dirty Penny in Tyler, Texas.
I should have known with that one…She did tell me that she wasn’t into girls. You know me, I always go after what I want and get it…even if it feels like a big shit after a week of constipation.
Lying down with dogs? Dirty, disgusting and unkempt?
Another woman who shall remain nameless; another, cry from the Ambien Harassment Police,

...she who lies down with dogs will rise up with fleas!
…she who lies down with dogs will rise up with fleas!

She said I was dirty and never showered. She hated me. I had to have someone stay with me at work just in case the wack-o came back for me…wah-wah!’
Many moons ago I had been told that when I am pointing three fingers at someone, usually that means there are several fingers pointing back.
Had I not made my bed? What will be waiting for me once I become un-de-tained from the detention center for misguided volunteers?
Disownment? Disapproval? Distinctively bad nude photos still looming on Google?
Had I not been a dawg in the first place would I have laid down anyway?
Most likely, yes, I lay down with anything. That is my one and only redeeming quality!

Outside the Box

Outsie the Box

If you were raised in a box…how can you ever step outside of it?