Deep Within: Why I give to the Salvation Army buckets.

     I give to the Salvation Army buckets, I have heard people say everything from good things to crass things about those red buckets. Either or, here is my story.

     It was a short time before Christmas, I had been living behind a dumpster by the Minneapolis YMCA. I was 15 years old. I was still pretty new to the streets, and the women's and children's shelter had given me some room mates that I didn't like or trust who were older guys and felt that it was safer to hit the streets fully with my best bro at the time, and just go. Unfortunately a few months prior, my best bro had been gunned down, so it was just me. I had gotten rolled by a group of older kids, and was battered, bruised, scared, and cold. I had taken refuge in my 'home', one of the few places I felt safe.

     The issue, it was cold, they had taken my blankets and coat along with my backpack. So there I sat, I had gone to the 410 to hope they would let me sleep in there, but it was a no go. There was no room in the inn per-say. I had gone back to my spot, I knew that at least I would have some kind of wind block from the elements. 

     As the cold crept in I started to become panicked, then enraged, and then it came to the last part, acceptance. I came to this understanding or belief that I was going to freeze to death and that would be that. I had known another guy who had frozen a few nights before, and everyone said that it was supposed to be like going to sleep. In that I remember finding comfort and solace. I remember the cold, I don't know if I have ever been that cold since, or just the mind set that set in. 

     Then it happened. I heard some noise just on the other side of my dumpster. I panicked, I remember being terrified that the guys who had taken my stuff were back to finish the job, or just make me pay a little more. I sat there and shook both out of cold and fear. 

      Then I saw him, a great hulking figure, wearing this huge coat with a hood. There was this cavernous depth where his face seemed to just disappear into the darkness of the shadows that hid his face. The moment he saw me I'm sure he could see the abject terror in my face. He quickly held up his hands in a universal sign of 'I mean you no harm', and said, "I ain't here to hurt you kid".  His hands then darted down to a brown paper cub bag and a bundle that I suddenly noticed at his feet. He simply said, 'Here ya go kid.' and almost seemed to float back down the alley from where he had come. 

      As I rooted through the bundle, I found a warm coat and a blanket (I still have a section of fabric from the blanket) and inside the bag, a hat, some mittens, a sandwich, and one of those old lunchbox thermoses filled to the brim with hot chocolate. I ran down the alley, to try and chase down my guardian angel in disguise, as I got to the corner, I got just enough of a view of my hero hopping into a van much like the one that I and others drive for SOHO. The only good glimpse I got of him as he left, were the words sewn into the back of his jacket, which simply read , 'The Salvation Army'. So that is my story, it is what it is, but I will tell you this, I may have very well frozen to death that night if it wasn't for The Salvation Army.

Quick explanation.

     Christmas is always a hard time for many. I am no exception. I have been fighting a funk. This time of year has contained pain and tragedy for me and many others. On Christmas Eve and Day there as been, my dad left, one of my best friends was murdered in front of my home, a childhood friend was killed in a drunk driving accident and another bro took his own  life, and all too often even if the holidays are in a joyful and festive mood, there is a darkness that tells me, 'so... what's gonna happen this year, who's gonna die? who's gonna leave?' Even as I type this out I tap into emotions that stir deep within. So, with that, I'm going to write a subsection of crags and crevices called, 'Stories that need to be told.' These may be gritty, happy, sad, but they will be, well, they will be.

One more day.

   Long story short, at midnight tonight, I turn older than I ever expected to live. I remember the first time I was given a life expectancy. It was at a place called 'Project Off-Streets', with my 'worker' who I would see once, who looked at me a wet behind the ears, pretty much full on suburban kid who thought he was a lot tougher than he was, and said, 'Get tough or die kid, these streets are gonna eat you alive.' I had moved into the shelter they had put me in shortly after. I walked through the secure doors, and into the place that I would call home. I had just put my back pack into my room, and was on my way down in the elevator, I was wearing a red sweatshirt, that kept me warm, as the elevator stopped, I don't remember what floor, another kid got into the elevator. He eyed me up and down, he was dressed in blue from head to toe, before I knew what was happening, he pulled a gun from his waistband, stuck it in my eye, and said, 'you new? just so you know, red don't fly 'round here, got it?' He put the gun back in his waistband like it was just another day at the office, and stepped from the elevator.
    As I stepped from the elevator, I heard a scuffle to my right, the 410 was a shelter for women and children, and I was about to find out why there were two sets of locking doors on the way in. A large man was shoving his way through the door as a woman frantically was telling the front desk to call 911, as the man made his way through the door, I saw something in his hand, as I was trying to figure out what it was, his arm flashed forward. I quickly figured out what it was, as the glass exploded on the side of the woman's face, he had hit her with a glass bottle. I watched in stunned silence as the man proceeded to run out the door, and the people at the desk huddled around the woman, not only attempting to stop the bleeding in the gaping wound that ran from her ear to her shoulder blade, but to secure the front doors so the attacker could not return.
    As we stood there, my soon to be best friend, Josh, looked at me and said, 'welcome to the 410, if any of us make it out alive, we should consider ourselves lucky.' Josh quickly became my best friend, we spent pretty much all of our time together. He used to always say, 'we'll be lucky if we make it to 16.' He didn't, I did.
   Throughout much of the rest of my life so far, I lived fast, much of it was either feast or famine, life or death, and time and time again, I would hear, 'You won't make it past 16, 18, 19, 20, and so on and so forth. I didn't care. I figured, Live fast, die young, and leave a good looking corpse. That was the credo that me and most of the people I ran with adopted. Time and time again, many of them lived and died by that.
   Now here it is, my life has changed in many ways, and in that, I still had it in the back of my head, death is chasing me, it chases all of us. Yet, I had one last prediction for me, 38, and in that, I kept on seeing 38's everywhere.
   My beliefs are still what my beliefs are, and yet, I still do have some quandaries, or superstitions per say. So, I guess, yeah, few more hours, and I will pass that point... so, here's to a few more hours. :)

Life, death, and dogs. Part 2

  So, I got another dog in the house. Her name is Brandi, and she is a long haired chihuahua. I had mentioned that her owner was no longer able to take care of her. Unfortunately her owner passed away a couple of days ago. Her owner had a lot of health complications, and succumbed to them, in that, she was a single woman who left behind her mom, sister, and son. When she passed away, Brandi dutifully stood guard beside her fallen master for a couple of days until she was discovered. 
  When she was discovered, there was a mass of confusion, that ended with Brandi cowering under her master's bed as the police, coroner, and so on made their ways through her apartment. As her family arrived one by one there they grieved their loss. In that, there was a side distress, who would take Brandi. None of the family is in a situation where they could take a dog, and I heard distress in the owners sister's voice, 'she can't go to the pound... they'll kill her...'.
    To back the story up, when I first met Brandi, it was one of the first days of moving in, and in that, Brandi shot forward and bit Chop on the foreleg. Mental image moment, Chop is one of the most laid back 150 lb. American Bulldogs you will ever meet, he is very animal friendly, and is happy just wandering aimlessly through the day, much like his owner. He was very confused as to why a 5 lb long haired Chihuahua would come after him, but in that moment, he figured if she's gonna bite me, I'm going to respond. So, sufficed to say, bringing her into my home, did not seem like an option.
    Yet, after her owner's sister had said that with such distress in her voice... I had some thinking to do. As I spoke with some of the people that were the closest to the owner, I could feel this tug on my heart. I had to offer, so, I walked over to the owner's sister. Just as I was approaching her one of the officers that had arrived to help began to ask where the dog was going to go, and Tammy had started to explain that none of them had the means to take care of Brandi. Before I realized what I was doing, 'If Chop doesn't eat her, she can stay with me.' came out of my mouth. 'Really?!', she replied. 'Yeah...'. The owner's family thanked me both last night and today. 
     The point of my story, is this. I look a mess, 6'3", hoodie, tattoos, skully, 150 lb. American Bulldog named Chopper, and... 5 lb. Long Haired Chihuahua named Brandi.... yeah... when I brought her in, I half expected Chop to not be too happy about the addition, especially about who it was, and yet, I saw an act of compassion that just made me stop. Brandi instantly went on the defensive when we walked in, I half expected Chop to take one bite, and that would be it. Then it happened. 
    The best way to describe it, he sensed her fear, and then he did it. He slowly lay flat on the floor, legs folded up under himself like a big white sphinx, and then slowly dropped his head to the floor, almost as if bowing to her. He lay there and let her sniff all around her, and then he gently got up, went over to his bed, and lay down. Since, then, they have gotten along fine, my only issue is trying to walk 2 dogs with 2 adjustable leashes, that have 2 totally different minds of their own. It has made for some fun moments for the neighbors to watch I'm sure. 
    The only heart tearing moments are when Brandi turns to go into her old house, she heads towards the door, and then before the leash runs out, as if she realizes her beloved owner is gone, she slowly turns and follows us up the stairs and to her new door. 
     One of the reasons I love dogs, there is a love and a loyalty that is just there for them. They love those who are good to them, and will always be there for their owners, even in the event of death. So, I got a dog to add to the house, her name is Brandi, she is a 5 lb. long haired Chihuahua, and I hope I am as deserving of her love as her previous owner was, and I will take care of her to the best of my abilities...hey... maybe since there are crazy cat ladies... this could be the start of the daft dog dudes... yeah... let's hope not... I love each and every one of you, and God does too.

Life, death, and dogs

    One thing about my life, I have seen a lot of folks come and go, so far this week, it has been 3 people. Between my old life choices and my 'office' per say now, I see a lot of death. I know that in many ways, I have come to terms with it, and yet, I still remember my first first hand witness to it. There is the realization of the true frailty of life, how little it takes to cease to exist on this plain. I have had the experience of telling many folks that their loved one has passed on, and everything around that measure. It is life, the sad truth, when we are born, we start heading towards death. Okay, I'm not trying to sound too grim reaperish, but, it's the truth. We live and then we die, and hopefully in between we make an imprint on the world. This week three folks in my circle died, how I inherited a 5 lb. long haired Chihuahua named Brandi, which is good for a grin when both me, and my 150 lb. American Bulldog Chopper have not figured out exactly how to deal with her.... so... yeah... 3....
    Like John Wayne Garbow, or, Johnny Goodheart, Johnny the vet, or my brother John. My friend Daniel told me of his passing while we were walking around downtown St. Paul. Johnny had his ups and owns, but he would have an upbeat outlook on life. He would say, 'You know why I'm on the streets right? Cuz, not all of me came back from Vietnam... oh sure... my body came back, but my mind...but I can survive out here, most can't.' I would ask him, 'Why don't you hit the VA Johnny?' He would simply reply, 'Cuz I can survive out here, others can't.' In that, knowing Johnny's heart, the translation, other guys need more help than me, and I ain't gonna take up a bed that they need. We would sit out anywhere we found a place to sit, the circle,   rice park, the bottoms, here there and anywhere we just happened to run into each other, and I would listen to my elder.
     He always had a presence, he wore an old weather beaten trucker style hat with 'Vietnam Veteran' across the brim with his long silver hair always combed the best he could, and ponytailed underneath., a beaten jean jacket with the words 'smile, Jesus loves you' painstakingly written across the back, a slight figure, most would often look right past him. He walked with a cane, but still walked almost regally. The truth is, when you took the time to look at his face, you would see a weathered face, his grey beard was always decently well kept, and angled well on his jawline, and then you would see his eyes, it was a rarity because he always wore sunglasses, but when you saw his eyes, piercing steel blue, with this solidness to them, saying they had seen so much, way too young, and yet, there was kindness, compassion, caring, and most of all love. A love for his fellow man that few understand. Here's just one example.
    I was walking along one day, and there was Johnny, sitting alongside the road, his cane nowhere to be found, 'how ya doin Johnny?'. 'I'm doin allright Preach, how you?' Johnny replied, looking this way and that. I asked him how he was doing, and how his day was, he told me things were cool and make sure that I thanked God for the beautiful day. At this point, knowing where he lived, and knowing where he hung out, I asked him, what in the wide world of sports was he doing way out here. You see, we were out by the old salt mines in St. Paul, which is a good mile from Listening house, or 'Johnny's Pad'. 'Ya know Preach, it's one of them things, ya see, I was walking along with my cane, and it was such a beautiful day, that I figured I'd keep goin'.'  'Okay', I replied,'so where's your cane, I know you didn't limp all the way this way without it.' To which he replied, 'gave it away.', so nonchalantly that I thought he was kidding me, til he told me a story about him walking along on the beautiful day, and seeing a gentleman who was older than he walking along who seemed in desperate need of a can as he was struggling from handrail to handrail to get somewhere. So Johnny, in his time old wisdom, decided that this man needed it more than him.
    'So how long you been sittin here Johnny?' 'Three Hours.' 'Why did you hand your cane off more than a mile from home?' 'Figured God would find me some help home' 'So how's that working out for ya?' to which he removed his sun glasses and looked at me with his eyes dancing in the sunlight and replied, 'You're here, aren't ya?' I stood there in my foolishness, my brother had said hello to Captain Obvious, and I was there to witness. As we walked the mile back to his spot we laughed and spoke of the good times and bad, past Sevilles, all the way down 7th till we just crossed over Kellogg. We said our goodbyes that day, and often laughed of that day afterwards. Mutt and Jeff, ambling their way along. We will cry because you died, but we will also smile because you lived. I'm betting you handed your cane off on the way to heaven too, but this time there were angels to carry you home.

Hopes and dreams

   Many of us look to a better day, we dream of times that are easier, more peaceful, and yet our reality is turmoil, turbulence, and discouragement. We all strive for something at one point in our life, and whatever it may be, we shoot for the moon, sometimes we hit it, sometimes we come crashing down to earth in a burning wreck. That's just how it is.I think I have crashed and burned enough that I should get a stuntman's license... or is it now stunt person... idk... the method of the madness is just how it is for me. Born to run, whether it be into the fray, or away from love. Just has been how I roll. Runnin' with the devil... or runnin' from the devil... or runnin' at the devil with a battle axe in hand, hopin; that in his skull it lands. Seems like time and time again, I'm runnin' in circles. I look left, and right, day, and night. Hiding from the headlights, racin' towards the sunlight.
    Kinda like when Bubba was young, I would do MN runs, in the middle of the night. Missing my home and family, I would load him into his carseat, and away we would go. Making a '15 hour' journey in about 12 and a half. Just going, watching the broken yellow stripes pass by. Minute by minute the miles would tick away. CO, NE.... cornfield... cornfield... what the crap is that metal monstrocity(those who have driven through NE will understand)... cornfield... Omaha... which looks like a cornfield with buildings... kidding... sorta... Somewhere along the way... the darkness would fall... and for anyone who knows, NE is like upstate NY, or either of the dakotas... there ain't much out there... then there would be the fight to stay awake and just keep going. There would be that moment, usually in Iowa, when it would be right before the dawn, where I would be fighting full bore just to stay awake, usually a couple of 5 hour energy drinks in me, and a coupla cups of coffee, and yet I would still find myself just about to doze. But I knew I needed to hit that MN state line, I had to keep on going. At the speed I would travel I would usually time the sunrise about a half hour before I hit the MN state line. For any of you who haven't traveled like this, there is that moment, at the when you can see the beginning of the end, I would see that 'Minnesota Welcomes You' sign, and I would get that pulse of adrenaline. I was almost home.
   I think there are periods of life like that, where life is slowly lulling you to sleep at the wheel... flying along... your headlights cutting a swath through the inky black sky. The hum of your tires and asphalt mixing a melody that seems to almost want you to just close your eyes just for a moment on that highway of life. Yet, if you do, and your at the wheel, the ride is gonna get bumpy to say the least. Kinda like hitting the 'oh crap, i'm driving off the highway bumps,' except worse. Ending up in a wreck like out of one of those, 'caught on tape,' shows you see on late-night tv.
   One thing though, you don't have to drive, that's where I often have issues. Being the man that I am, I often pull out my man card and with a great confidence say, 'I can do it, I know the way, and of course I don't need directions.' Reality card, when distracted, I have been known to get lost in Walmart... let alone the highway of life... and when I have decided to improve my laptimes when driving, I tend to get a whole patriotic celebration in my rear view... red, white, and blue, red, white and blue... ummm... yes, i do know how fast i was going, but I am sure you will tell me if my speedometer is off... it said 93... oh, yeah... 96?... well, i will have to remember that next time... if there is one...
   In other words, I may have a good route from Mile High to South of the River, and I may be able to navigate it with little to no... ok... not much to little trouble, but in life, I gotta try and remember that I am the passenger, I just need to kick back and relax, and that back seat driving will be punished...

Mindspill 11/14

broken... spoken... mind is reeling... not sure what i'm feeling... little to the left... little to the right... go go go, fight fight fight... there is always a spinning in my head... fully alive, not yet dead... the drift, the dream, the movie screen... the light flickers as the reel ends... what is the next scene? Where is my next dream... I think of days gone by... the memories... i laugh, i cry... the soft sliver of moon lights my way through the darkest night... i walk alone... i wait for sight... a whisper, kiss, or soft caress... i wait for my love, nothing more, nothing less... i'm on the outside, i'm looking in, i can see through you... see your true colors... the song on the wind it drifts lazily through the night sky... i have looked for you... searched for you... and yet it feels like you are just out of reach... the puzzle shifts and changes... what will the future hold... ever changing... ever moving... dreams... spasms... mountaintops... chasms... life, death... suffocation, breath... my mind wanders as i meander along my way, the memories of time haunt me like great dark knights, do the look for impending doom? or are they just travelers along the path like me, hoping beyond hope that i mean them no threat as they mean me none... aren't we all just vagabonds... moving back and forth... shifting, shaking, moving, quaking... a reality that can change in the wing movement of a hummingbird... we all seek something... bullet wounds and battle scars... battle born, battle bred, and when i die i will be battle dead....

Shifting, pulling, twisting it changes
Life has no constant, other than constant rearranges
We live, we die, we laugh, we cry
And when our time is done, we pray we fly
But what is it? What do we strive to find?
Sanctuary, Solitude, or just some peace of mind
On razors edge, or facing a wall
I move back and forth, just trying not to fall
the course is set, sail by the star
the end of the world is never too far

My mind seems to be just moving, I've got about 5 different things I'm writing on, and I just cant seem to concentrate on one, in that, I feel good to be writing again. It seems as if everything seems to want to get out at once, from spiritual beliefs, to poems, songs, a book(or two, strictly fiction stuff, let's just say i have very vivid dreams and have been trying to organize them) So, in that, I am just a little all over in the thought pattern field, but it feels good to be getting it out... yup yup

jagged pieces, twisted and bent
broken, rusted, battered and spent
the wicked mass of broken glass
could i walk on heaven's grass
in the darkness i could see the light
 in that i got lost in the midst of the fight
the dreams they come from haunted past
how much longer could this nightmare last
i want to dream of fields of green
like i have seen on movie screen
the waft of lilies on the air
i hope i pray there's time to spare
my heart is heavy, my brow is wet
in that i know that battle yet
it's time to come and i shall stand
to march across the barren land
my steel shall strike with grace and speed
to what accord my heart will heed
a place of beauty, a place of peace
a place where weapons, death and war will cease
a field where children dance and play
the sun will shine and i will say
I thank you for this live I live
And all to you my soul I give
when at last i lay me down
i pray my soul is heaven bound

The fight within

   I have been asked, what does it take to do the job I do... my most common answer... you must be willing to let you heart break 1000 times a day...my prayer... to love people like Christ did... and yet i become well aware of how short i can fall from that... i love my job... i love the people that i serve... but it's hard... damn hard... i look at a world that many choose to ignore... where sylvester eats tweety... where wiley e. coyote has a roadrunner dinner every night... i do see good in it too... and yet... i have become battle scarred... my mind has become blurry... i fight day to day with a depression that threatens to take my very soul... i have triumphant days and i have terrible ones... i have days where i am on top of the world... and i have days where i feel the weight of it
   I do my best to hand it off to one who's burden weighs nothing and His yoke is light, and yet i find pieces left behind that when assembled together seem a great weight... I have watched people rise to the pinnacle of success from the gutter and i have watched people die in that same gutter... i become disgusted with society and how it deals with those who it deems 'less than' and raise my fist against it time and time again... yet sometimes... it seems to be raising my fist against a beast that has impenetrable armor... i have been told time and time again... take a rest... and i do... but my mind doesn't stop spinning... i hope and wait for someone to hold me and tell me it's going to be allright... don't get me wrong... i can be the beast of battle 95% of the time... but i want that 5% of downtime... to be with someone my heart holds dear... to rest in a peace of nothingness... yet... it has been unattainable for now... i look forward to the striving dawn... waiting for the sun to rise... i know that in the darkest night the dawn comes soon...
   I hold onto all of the good that i can... but my mind will not stop spinning... waiting for that kiss... of one who will help the world melt away if only for a few brief seconds... my mindspill reeling into the abyss... the darkness calls to me and yet i find my feet on solid ground... before i would have been tossed and turned into the whirlwind of hate... and yet... i haven't fallen to that hole... my dreams are no where close to dead... i have delusions of grandeur that i intend to fulfill... my mind will not let go of the big picture... the plan that was burned into my heart... my mind... my soul... there is a way... there is a place... there is a time... and i must continue onward... though my footfalls become heavy i must persevere... craziest part... my mind is still clean... i often giggle at the fact that just by the sheer grace of God i have been able to maintain my sobriety... don't get me wrong... i have heard the siren's call time and time again... and yet i know it is a siren's call now... it would only take me off to my impending doom... so where am i... who am i... how am i... am i a madman who knows not of sanity or am i in one of those ventures that Einstein peaks of the fine line between insanity or genius... i guess i will see... so i must keep fighting... i must keep walking... we do not fight to fight another day... we fight for the day when we can all lay our arms down for eternity... i love each and every one of you...



     Ok, I have been having these mindspills lately, for those who have been reading this stuff for the past 5 years or so, you would notice that I went back to an older form of my writing, writing just as it comes, unedited, unfiltered, just writing as each thought comes. Letting my mind just spill, hence the mindspill title, in that, it makes sense to me, but if it makes sense to you, you should probably have your head examined. Either or, I made a promise to myself to try and regain some of my sanity and the peace that passes understanding. I have let my job and life get to me to a point where it was starting to tear apart the fabrics within. I lost some people near to me, and in that, it tore the fabrics of my reality, not entirely, but enough that my mind has been shifted for some time. 6 people in such a short span, 4 i lost emotionally in one fail swoop, and two i lost to death, one who i was trying to revive when death came. In that, it has been hard, and me being full of pride, short circuited. I still haven't come to terms with some of the losses, and sometimes you just weren't meant to. Also, once again it's that time of year where there are those who feel I have disrupted their life and want to disrupt mine, I have gotten used to threats over the years, but they still wear on me. When it comes down to it, I just want to live in peace, I want to have those that I love close to me in an ever expanding circle, but when others come to hurt others, I will take a stand. I still believe that 'the greatest evil in the world is not when evil people do their evil deeds, but when good people do nothing to stop them.' I will stand and fight as long as I am allowed to breathe. Either or, this is me, unfiltered. I feel better. I do love each and every one of you and God does too. You may not believe in Him, but He believes in you.

-Preach

Just a junkyard dog.

    I love what I love. When it comes down to it, I'm pretty simple, I tend to overcomplicate things with over thought. I have lived everywhere from the gutter to a million dollar home, and everywhere in between, but when it comes down to it, I'm just a junkyard dog. 

    I have gone through life the best way that I know how, sometimes too headstrong, sometimes pridefully forward. I have been blessed to be called 'dad', and for each child who has, I would die for you without question. That's just how I am. I have a high tolerance for pain, in any way shape and form it can come at me. I'm not saying it doesn't hurt, I'm  just good at holding it together. I have felt the love of a woman, and I have returned that love. At the same right, I have been quoted at saying, ' some play hard to get, I play hard to want.' Always fearful of my heart being broken, I have too often kept my distance, or held back. I have been able to go all in once, but for one reason or another, it just didn't work out. I guess there's something to say about God's will and His time too.

    I often have to pray for a lack of bitterness, I often feel slighted, or cheated, but at the same right, I often feel blessed and graced with purpose. I guess that's just life. 

   I believe that, the true evil in the world is not when evil men do their evil deeds, but when good men do nothing to stop them. In that, I have had my moments of being both sides of the coin. I have fought my inner demons and the ones around me too. I often feel tired. like an old junk yard dog, who knows two things, how to love, and how to fight. My heart is still as strong as it once was, but my body... well... if I had known I was gonna live this long... I would have taken much better care of myself. 

   I'm tired. I know that my watch must be kept until my time here is done, and I have no plans of leaving my post, but I am tired. I have been a front-line warrior for so long, one battle after another. On both sides of the battlefield, both darkness and light. I know that our current fight is a valiant one, a fight for a better future for everyone's children, and yet, it's very tiring. What am I trying to say? I'm not sure.

   I guess, well, in my life, people have wished me ill will, time and time again. I used to say, 'people tougher than you have tried to kill me,' headstrong, prideful, and full of piss and vinegar. Yet, I wonder if there's a day when I don't have to fight. Life is war, fight for your life. As I was talking to Nessa the other day, in one of those 'father/daughter' convos. I told her, 'I once took pride in never losing a fight, the truth of it, there are still fights when you may be the last man standing, but there's no winner, everyone loses.' I feel that way more often than I'd like to admit, the point when there's so many casualties that no one wins. I know that there is a vision that I cannot see, that is farther than I can see. A place of love, peace, compassion, understanding, and all that other good stuff. 

    When it comes down to it though, I'm just plain tired. Not sure where I am going with this, but I guess... If I do ever fall... I just hope that the footprints I left on this earth leave a good path... yeah... i love each and every one of you, and God does too... you may not believe in Him, but He believes in you.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate or Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. The Sequel

     Okay, back to the nine circles of hell as depicted by Dante Aligheri between 1308 and 1321. All nine in order are Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, and finish it off with Treachery. In that, I realize that this is a poem, written by a man, and yet I believe that all forms of art are made to express some of the innermost thoughts at times, I find parallels in his writings, and in being a writer of sorts, I understand that often the things written down sometimes express the things in our head that for some of us we cannot orate. so, with that, here we go.

     I found myself reflecting in the first third of this poem, that when Dante would enter each circle he would battle a beast of each, and in that would be force to look at his own sins, and reflect on how he deserved to be in each hell to remain. In that, he had a quest, a purpose, to save Beatrice, who had been pulled wrongly into hell and was being held prisoner by Lucifer himself. So he would push on, facing his deepest sins and being forced to rely on his faith in God at many of the toughest times, using his faith as the weapon, to, in the end, defeat the devil himself.

     Part 1 of these ramblings covered the 9 rings and the synonyms for each hell, but now I'd like to define the words again, and list the antonyms, and just compare.

Limbo - state of uncertainty

antonyms for Limbo: certainty, certitude, sureness, surety

Lust - appetite, passion

antonyms for Lust: chastity, disenchantment, disgust, love

Gluttony - excess

antonyms for Gluttony: benevolence, giving, mercifulness, unselfishness

Greed - overwhelming desire for more

antonyms for Greed: benevolence, generosity

Anger - state of being mad, annoyed

antonyms for Anger: agreeability, calmness, contentment,        enjoyment, good nature, happiness, joy, peace, pleasantness

Heresy - unorthodox opinion, especially in religious matters

antonyms for Heresy: orthodoxy

Violence - extreme force, intensity

antonyms for Violence: passivity, peace, peacefulness

Fraud - trickery, deception

antonyms for Fraud: fairness, honesty, justice

Treachery - disloyalty, dishonesty

antonyms for Treachery: constancy, devotion, faithfulness, fidelity, honesty, love, loyalty

     So, one thing I noticed, the solutions to get through those nine circles of hell... are doubled up in some spaces. What do I take from that? 

     Well, love, peace, and benevolence are mentioned more than once as antonyms. So, what this says to me... Love, peace and benevolence are solutions, along with that, honesty, loyalty, faithfulness, fidelity, certainty... so on and so forth. So take what ya want from it, it was just some of my observations for the day.  Love easy, stay greasy. 

                                

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate or Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

  So I have been reacquainting myself with the Divine Comedy. I had always had a fascination with Dante and his quest into the 9 circles of hell to save Beatrice, his true love. If  you have seen 'What dreams may come', it's a very loose adaptation of the Divine Comedy.
  Long story short, it's about a man named Dante who battles his way through the 9 gates of hell to attempt to save his gal. He fights his way through Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, and Treachery, against not only the demons that stand to block his path, but also against his own sins. I tend to find many parallels with it, and would think that pretty much anyone would. The struggles, the pain, the self realization, and so many of the other things Dante must struggle against.
   I think that we all fight our ways through our own 9 rings, often chasing a seemingly unattainable phantom. Is it that I am chasing ghosts from the past? Is it that I am all too often afraid to face the things that I've done in my life? Do we all go through it?
   I decided to look up definitions and synonyms for each circle. This is what I came up with.

Limbo - constant inability to remember (ummm... some would say that I am in a constant state of that)

   synonyms for limbo: absentmindedness, abstraction, amnesia, blackout, blank, blockout, carelessness, dreaminess, fugue, heedlessness, hypomnesia, inattention, lapse of memory, laxness, lethe, loss of memory, negligence, nirvana, oblivion, obliviousness, paramnesia, repression, short memory, supression

Lust - appetite, passion (yup...)

    synonyms for lust: animalism, aphrodisia, appentence, appetition, avidity, carnality, concupiscence, covetousness, craving, cupitidity, desire, eroticism, excitement, fervor, greed, hunger, itch, lasciviousness, lechery, lewdness, libido, licentiousness, longing, prurience, pruriency, salaciousness, salacity, sensualism, sensuality, thirst, urge, wantonness, weakness, yen


Gluttony - excess (check that one of... millions of times)

   synonyms for gluttony: greed, greediness, voracity,epicurism, good living, high living, edactiy, gulosity, crapulence, guttling, guzzling, gormandering, omnivorous, crapulent, swinish, pampered, overfed, overgorged


Greed - overwhelming desire for more (one more in the yes column)

   synonyms for greed: acquisitiveness, avarice, avidity, covetousness, craving, cupidity, eagerness, edacity, esurience, excess, gluttony, gormandizing, graspingness, hunger, indulgence, insatiableness, intemperence, longing, piggishness, rapacity, ravenousness, selfishness, swinishness, the gimmies, voracity


Anger - state of being mad, annoyed (been there... done that...)

   synonyms for anger: acrimony, animosity, annoyance, antagonism, blow up, cat fit, chagrin, choler, conniption, dander, disappropriation, displeasure, distemper, enmity, exasperation, fury, gall, hatred, hissy fit, huff, ill humor, ill temper, impatience, indignation, infuriation, irascibility, ire, irritability, irritation, mad, miff, outrage, passion, peevishness, petulence, pique, rage, ranking, resentment, slow burn, soreness, stew, storm tantrum, temper, tiff, umbrage, vexation, violence

Heresy - unorthodox opinion, especially in religious matters (yeah...)

   synonyms of heresy: agnosticism, apostasy, atheism, blasphemy, defection, disbelief, dissent, dissidence, divergence, error, fallacy, heterodoxy, iconoclasm, impeity, infidelity, misbelief, nonconformism, nonconformity, paganism, revisionism, schism, sectarianism, secularism, sin

Violence - extreme force, intensity (...ummm...)

   synonyms of violence: abandon, acuteness, assault, attack, bestiality, bloodshed, blowup, brutality, brute force, clash, coercion, compulsion, confusion, constraint, cruelty, destructiveness, disorder, disturbance, duress, ferocity, fervor, fierceness, fighting, flap, foul play, frenzy, fury, fuss, harshness, murderousness, onslaught, passion, power, raging, rampage, roughness, ruckus, rumble, savagery, sharpness, storm, storminess, struggle, terrorism, tumult, turbulence, uproar, vehemence, wildness

Fraud - trickery, deception (...I used to say I was an 'upstanding member of society' in my old days)

   synonyms for fraud: artiface, bamboozlement, barraty, blackmail, cheat, chicane, chicanery, con, craft, deceit, double-dealing, dupery, duping, duplicity, extortion, fake, fast one, fast shuffle, flimflam, fourberie, fraudulence, graft, guile, hanky-panky, hoax, hocus-pocus, hoodwinking, hustle, imposure, line, misrepresentation, racket, scam, sell, shakedown, sham, sharp practice, skunk, smoke, song and dance, song, spuriousness, sting, swindle, swindling, treachery

Treachery - disloyalty, dishonesty (...there was a time when my entire life was a lie...)

   synonyms for treachery: betrayal, bunco, corruption, dirty dealing, dirty pool, dirty trick, dirty work, disaffection, dodge, double-cross, double-dealing, duplicity, faithlessness, fake, falseness, fast shuffle, flimflam, grift, gyp, infidelity, perfidiousness, perfidy, put-on, racket, recreancy, scam, sellout, shell game, skin game, spoof, stab in the back, sweet talk, treacherousness, treason, two-timing, whitewash


   Now all of these definitions and synonyms are from Thesaurus.com so don't go biting my head off if you feel they are not accurate. In that, I know that this is just a story, and there are many different views of sin and hell. For me, both sin and hell are very real, and for most of my life I believed that I was going to hell, and there was nothing I could do about it. 'Sin was in,' and in my case, I felt I had violated all of God's laws with such a joy and fervency that there was no redemption for me. All of what was listed above, synonyms and all, described everything that I was. That view has long since changed, but there are still the days that it fills my mind and I contemplate the things I have done, and the struggles I still have. I still struggle with each one of these 'hells' every day, there is sometimes a whisper that attempts to romanticize all that once was.
   Yet, for me, I feel like the pendulum has swung for me, and in that, I have come too far to turn back. My soul actually rests at times, I can exhale, I can sleep through the night solidly. In that, I will cover the antonyms next, and continue on in my journey.

You are good. I hate people, but I like you.

     These words were said to me just a short time ago, many other words were said, but those were some of the ones that hit me the hardest. The sentence was, "I hate everyone and everything, the world is a cesspool, and at one time, I was one of the most feared men on the planet, and now, I am rotting from the inside out. Yet there you are, one of the good ones, one of the only good ones, and I am rotting on the inside. You are good, that is rare, there is no one good left in this world, but you are. You are good. I hate people, but I like you." Coming from this man, it is one of the ultimate compliments I have ever received.
     He is a very large man, he stands 6'7", and weighs in at at least 375 lbs. In that, it is a very muscular structure, if you follow wrestling, he often has reminded me of the wrestler, Sid Vicious from back in the day.  He has lived a life on both sides of the fence, at times, walking on heaven's grass and also stomping through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, fearin' no evil, for he was the evilest mutha in the valley at the time. Then things started to change, the hate that has fueled him for so long has run it's course, "you never want to know what it's like to watch yourself slowly die," was said in our conversation today. My reply, "we are all slowly dying, it's just how we go that makes the difference." He replied with a few choice words, then laughed, "you always had a way of looking at the world that makes people laugh, and that ain't a bad thing." Which I found funny, since the night before I had been told, "it's always worst case doom and gloom paranoia with you." So within a 12 hour span, I had been told by saying literally the same things, two polarly opposite synopsis. Guess it's all in perspective. We continued to talk for about an hour or so and then said our goodbyes.
     As I hung up, I guess my thoughts and prayers have been answered. I have been doing street outreach for awhile now, and there are those who have said many different things about me, some happy, some sad, some good, and some bad. In that, I have watched outreaches and ministries come and go. I have seen death, pain, suffering, apathy, but also I have seen life, healing, joy, love and compassion. It has been a long strange road that has kept me on my toes even more so than my old life did. Always changing, always twisting into new forms. All too often the attacks I have suffered have been from those closest with me, but in my life that is what I have found to be the norm, it is said that people often hurt the ones they are the closest to. I make no qualms, I have been the harbinger of pain in my life also, often in my past taking a code of piracy, "take what you can, give nothing back." Yet, there was a point of reckoning, a point of 'No Plan B', a time of redemption.
      In that, I still struggle with it, there are times that I look in the mirror and see the old me, I see the demon banging on the plexi-glass cell that I constructed for him, and I find this innate fear that he is going to find a way out. The Apostle Paul often talked of 'fighting within', and the fact that he talked in present tense when he spoke of his struggles, native lore talks of a good wolf and bad wolf that lives inside of you and the one that survives is the one you feed. In that, I often wonder how long it takes for wolves or demons to starve.
      At the same point, both sides are always being fed, whether on purpose or by osmosis. That's just the way life is. We cannot hide ourselves away from the world, because even when you find a point or place where you are alone, then you are almost worse off than not. Ask anyone who has spent time in solitary confinement, it's a maddening process where a minute can turn into a day, and you own mind will drive you mad if you let it. In times where I have found myself alone I would think of the most intricate classical pieces of music, each nuance, each inflection, every note and rest to attempt to occupy my mind so that it will not turn on itself. I have also turned to prayer, less than I probably should in those instances, but I do. I have found that remembering moments in my life was often maddening, for I would consider the "woulda, coulda, shoulda"s.
     Where am I going with this? We all have moments where we can "knuckle up, and stuck'em up", or "hold'em then fold'em", yes, I said 'stuck' instead of the 'other word'.
     Both men I referred to above are at points of change, forks in the road, changes, whatever you want to call it. In that, I am too. I haven't been questioning my faith, but I have been questioning my purpose, in that, I seemed to have received answer after answer after answer. I asked, "do I make a difference?", the response, call after call on things that needed to be said, prayer after prayer, scripture after scripture. With a comment from a third man who has been dealing with a great loss. The last time we had spoken until yesterday,I had asked him a final question when our conversation was wrapping up, he had told me there was just something missing, I had replied, "Where do you stand with your higher power?" He is a highly intelligent man who is well read including the bible. He didn't answer my question until last night.
    His response, "Let's just say, I guess you're one helluva preacher, cuz I believe in God"
    Guess I got my answer to my question.

idk

the faces of so many gone
they haunt across my past
I only hope and pray and dream
they walk on heaven's grass
the pain the strife the sorrow
of all of you who've gone
i must strain to live my life
and slowly i trudge on
the suicides and murders
the diseases and the death
i sit here and wonder what
passed through your mind
at point of final breath
i look into the sweet sunrise
feeling thankful in my day
i listen to the fall wind blowing
and in this world i'll stay
until the time that God decides
my work out here is done
and then i'll pass to heaven's grass
and dance in it's sweet sun
hopefully...

fear come from thought...

   I have been rewriting a popular sermon of mine, well, I had heard the story, and then rewritten it, as I was doing the update, for some reason I came across a secondary link to a youtube video tribute of a brother of mine, and found myself watching this secondary news clip. Then I saw it, raw emotion, it is a live standoff video, and at one point a cop goes from being aggressor, to victim. In that, I do not want this to come off as an anti cop thing, it was just the video that You tube set up alongside Mark's, which had a strange irony in it.Either or, the cop gets shot in the neck during a standoff. Then there is the look, I have seen it way more than I ever wanted to in my life, the self realization that you are mortal. As I saw this it triggered a barrage of faces, people who had had that look in their eyes, where bravado meets mortality. We stand so tall, we feel that we are invincible, and yet our lives really are so fragile. God willing you will never see that look, but for me, and many around me, we have seen it way too much. The flood of emotions, the sorrow, the abject pain, kinda like when a friend stops bleeding, but doesn't stop talking, you know they're dead, but they don't, and so you keep on telling them that they'll be fine, lying through your teeth so that they will feel some comfort in those last fleeting minutes.
    There are those moments for some of us... hell, maybe all, where a split second of something will trigger this torrential monsoon of emotions. A cascade of pain if you will, and for me, for a long time I would bury it deep, because I didn't want my 'Man Card' taken... It emotionally stunted me and created a beast inside that not only attempted to kill me, but tried to destroy the world around me. Why do I call it a beast? Because there often seems to be no method to it, other than unexpressed, regressed emotions, that sporadically come out when sometimes seemingly random triggers get pulled.How do I get it under wraps, I attempt to work through the emotions, face the whirlwind, sometimes scream, sometimes cry, sometimes write, and sometimes just wait. I find ways to let me think through it, not the moment itself, but what emotions I am feeling and why, which isn't always easy for a guy like me.
    I had been told whether by male rolemodels, tv, radio, and so on and so forth, that men have 2 emotions, happy and angry. You never saw Micheal have a 'emotional share time with KITT, the A-team never passed around the share stick and 'went deeper' to look at the root of the cause, MacGuyver never took a couple of minutes before disassembling the nuclear warhead to have a 'good cry'. In that, I had become very emotionally stunted, and by and far I am no emotional fountain, but I do feel, and what I do feel, I feel deeply. In that, don't be afraid to express yourself, don't be afraid to express your pain, fears, and other negatives, so that you can try and work through them, and at least let the healing start to begin... not sure where I was going with that...

We are all going to die, but three of us are going to do something.

'We are all going to die, but three of us are going to do something.'
-Thomas Burnett Jr. May 29, 1963- September 11, 2001
Some of the final words that were spoken on a cell phone to his wife from United Flight 93.
His hometown, Bloomington, MN
We will never forget.
    Those were some of the final words that were spoken by fellow Minnesotan Thomas Burnett Jr. on flight 93, September 11, 2001. In my writing, especially about people, I try to put myself in their position, on a day that will live blazing in our memory, there are some who will only try to come to an understanding. I don't know if we will ever know what kind of heroics and bravery went on during that day, not only by those on flight 93, but so many stepped up. There is story after story of people who just got into the game. Everyone from Tom and those others who stood and fought in the face of death, to even the rarely heard others. Like a message left by pregnant passenger Lauren Grandcolas to her husband, 'Jack, pick up the phone sweetie, can you hear me? Okay. I just want to tell you there's a little problem with the plane. I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I just want to tell you how much I love you.'  At the time she had made the call people had already formulated a plan and were preparing to storm the cockpit. What type of bravery did that take?
    So many people stepped up, in a moment when America shook before an unknown assailant. So many heroes, so many Americans. I'm sorry, because some of you are about to be offended, and when it comes down to it, I don't care. We are now on the anniversary, and we will remember for one night, but in my opinion, who cares?! We will all stand in unison for this one moment, and then we will return to fighting amongst ourselves, we will talk of rascism, politics, classism, and so on and so forth until we have forgotten all about a day that bonded America together until next year. It makes me wanna puke. It makes me wonder if they actually did their part in destroying America, and we are so self consumed and self serving that we could care less, because we are going to have something to argue about within our social structure. Who has, who hasn't, so on and so forth. Do I think that people have a right to argue their isssues, sure, but I hope and pray that when they do it, they remember days like Sept. 11, 2001, Dec. 7, 1941,  and July 4,1776. Days when the political issue was making sure America survived, and the fact that each and every one of us are Americans, on Sept. 11, 2001, we saw what hate can do, now why don't we take this day of rememberance and heroes and use it to see what love can do. Why do I say love? Because flight 93 never hit it's intended target. Life is not finding things in life worth living for, it's in finding things worth dying for. So many people have died for America, the true America, and it is my personal belief that we need to rekindle that passion once again. I love each and every one of you and God does too. God bless America.
    There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends. John 15:13
   

No Plan B

Its too late Its my fate
I cant turn around
Theres no fear, in the mirror
To hold me down
Im too far, from the start
Now Im in too deep

Ive got to stick to the plan
Cause theres no Plan B
-Manafest, No Plan B


      I have to admit, there is fear in the mirror, and sometimes for what the mirror holds, I have to try and see what God sees in me, and for me, that is sometimes difficult. I have come very far from where I was, and I don't have any plan for turning back, and yet, I am afraid of doing it. I often feel as if there is a beast inside of me, which in reality, for me there is, the beast of my past. Have I put it behind me? I'd love to say yes, and it be just that, but at the same right, there are times when I fight myself to stop myself from making bad decisions. Knowing in that, those bad decisions could easily lead me into a cataclysmic disaster. My brother Duff spoke of the exact things tonight, he called them shadows. I am all too familiar with shadows. Some of you may recall that in some of my old blogs from the old myspace page often talked of shadows, funny how that comes full circle. 
      What do I fight? I fight the inherent thought that I was just born bad, I was once told by someone who I looked up to when I was young, 'You're the devil incarnate and nothing good will ever come from you.' To receive something like that from that person in particular was crushing to me, to the point where I perceived it as the truth. I had been told also that I was unlovable, good for nothing, a demon, an abyss which sucks everything around it into darkness, and so on and so forth. I let it eat me up inside and let it feed my hate for the world and everything in it, to the point where I became an emotional stone, 'one of the most apathetic, if not the most apathetic person I have ever evaluated', from a professional who's job it was to evaluate 'problem children'. I got good at hiding it all though, putting on a false front, smiling, laughing, telling everyone things were just fine, when it felt like I was rotting from the inside out. 
      I may have may come a long way from that, but there are times of distress and times of just plain stress that if I let them threaten to pull me into that abyss once again. Yet, I must remember everything I have learned, and remember to keep my eyes and ears open. I must go against what I have learned, to isolate and start writing a manifesto, and instead, let those who are near me know what is going on, and not just dump on them, but listen to what they say, and apply it to myself. 
     I must also take the time to remember who I am, where I have come from, what my life purpose is now, how to find myself again, the real me, not the beast within. In that, I must remember that life is a string of experiences, both good and bad, that if life is disappointing right now, if I keep on going, and I keep on moving forward, there will be a payoff. The number one thing I have to remember, keep my attitude in check, and find things that make me smile and laugh. My God, my kiddos, my kin, my dog, my brothers and sisters, they all got love for me, and in that, I am so blessed, they may not always like me, but they love me. So, through perseverance there will be an outcome, so I must stick to the plan of No Plan B and just move forward and have faith that things will fall in place in time, granted it will be a practice session of patience too. Much Love 

Love is...

4 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud 5 or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. 6 It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7 Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
- 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

   Now I know that many of you who read this may not agree with my personal spiritual beliefs, but at the same right most of you can agree that the bible is a historical document with merit when it comes to instructions on how to be to one another. I love the way it defines love, so much more than the Miriam Webster definition that I regurgitated a few blogs ago, not that it is vomit, but it is such a bland interpretation of what love is and could be. I still believe that it should be something that is all encompassing, and when I choose or better yet, God helps introduce, reintroduce, or just points out my mate to be, that I keep these words close to my heart and choose to define the love that I share with her by these words.
   I know some of you were expecting some type of idiocy or extreme outings, but at the same right, there's always the come down, or, the possibility of making even bigger mistakes, which albeit I was a master of getting into and getting out of, I don't feel it's time to hone up the skills. As it is I am looking into a weekend with some of my brothers to climb walls, up the 'pamper' pole (a pole so named due to climbing it makes you wish you were wearing pampers, and as you reach the top, you jump off), just kickin' it, cards, and possibly sending some rounds downrange. So in that, I will be able to blow off steam.
   I am fighting the fact that I put everything on the line and crapped out, but at the same right, I'd rather live my life knowing I took the chance, and not wondering 'what if'... It's love, it's gonna be flying by the seat of your pants, it's gonna be scary, it's gonna be crazy, but if I don't take those chances, who knows. I'd rather live with, 'oh, so that's what was gonna happen' instead of, 'I wonder what would have been could have been'. So, yeah. Am I hurt? Yeah. Have I been hurt before? Yeah. Was I willing to risk it all for an emotion that I have never really put out there in the way that I did this time? Yeah. Am I gonna do it again? Yup yup. In time, when I and if I feel the time is right. Not planning for anytime soon. Do I still love her? Yup. Why? Cuz Love keeps no record of being wrong. Either or, I am extremely touched by the support from my brothers and sisters, and most of all, my kin. I guess when you actually tell people honestly how you are feeling (I may not be super in touch with these types of emotions too much yet, but being able to say 'sucks monkey butt on ice' is a big step for me) and just lay the cards on the table, there are people in this world who won't use it to hurt you, but will use their love for you to help you heal. In that, I am so blessed I cannot even begin to explain how much. I love each and every one of you, and God does too. 4

The soundtrack of a soul.

    As most of you know, I love music. I think that it can express and feed pretty much any emotion. I have played in bands, sung in groups, helped out behind the scenes, pretty much anything to get the music out there. I have and still listened to pretty much all types of music, a very eclectic grouping that my pop gave me an ear for. Everything from Beethoven to Blood For Blood, and everything in between, in that, I have realized that it can feed certain emotions to an extent that there is some music and groups that I dodge now a days. Just cuz. Like it was quoted by one of the kiddos, 'it's not smart to poke the bear.'

     In that there are times when I have to monitor what the soundtrack of my soul is playing and then make a conscious effort to change the playlist. I have been going through a hellacious past three days, I had been planning a joyous arrival and reunion, and now, the ones who were on their way have completely gone off the radar. There is so much that is running through my head from both past and present. Past experiences and current thought patterns. It's a battle, there's an old native story about two wolves, and it talks of a grandfather telling his grandson, 'inside your body there are two wolves, one good, and one bad, and the one that dominates is the one you feed'. I try to remember that.
    For me, music is a venue that can stir all emotions, it is not only a song, but nature. The song of the wind in the air, the music of the mountains, and so on and so forth. In that it's tune can bring creation or destruction, it's just the way it is in my mind. So, with that, I will sing a song of creation, and healing so that I do not turn in upon myself. Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do.

Hello me... meet the real me... and my misfits way of life...

Emotion: 

1. a: obsolete : disturbance

    b: EXCITEMENT

2. a: the affective aspect of consciousness : FEELING

    b: a state of feeling

    c: a conscious mental reaction (as anger or fear) subjectively experienced as strong feeling usually directed toward a specific object and typically accompanied by psychological and behavioral changes in the body.

   So, I have been feeling a lot of emotion, a plethora of ups and downs, it hasn't been fun, and yet it has been pretty insightful. One, I'm stronger than I thought I was, to go through what I have been going through used to be a descent into madness. Many of you have seen it, and to some right, I'm sure some of you miss it in the escapades that would follow, and yet, there was always the comedown, the crash. There has been this strange thing going on inside of me, almost manic, and yet, not acting on the feelings, actually processing them. I may be a little isolating, and yet still getting out and doing things. For me, that's a big step. Not going out wanton and doing what me and some others called 'AAAAARGH Excursions', but just taking time to hang with some of my brothers, my kiddos, and my kin, and breathe.

    It always seems like the brakes overheat at most interesting times in life, I always picture it as a giant 'Casey Jones' style steam engine, the wheels conceive the stop, and then metal on metal begins, fountains of sparks shooting out of each wheel on the track, the giant steel wheels begin to glow from the heat, and I have realized that in that moment, it's all about what the conductor and his crew do.

    In that, I had to realize that I am not the conductor, I am the crew. For all the experience that I have on this track, there are things that I cannot expect, or understand, especially in a situation that is completely out of my control at this point. So, this is when I have to look to the conductor, and anticipate his order. In that, I should keep doing my job, and making sure that for the things that he has previously asked me to do keep on rolling, because no matter what happens, I do not want the crash to be caused by my lack of maintenance. I will keep on shoveling, keep on tendering, and trying to keep my head calm.

    It's kind of strange, I can keep my head in the middle of a gunfight, and yet when it comes to emotion, I have issues. It's all about adaptation and change, just because life is that way. I guess it's like this one time that Auntie Brenda will not let me forget.

     We had all gone out for the evening to a downtown club, and some of our girl cousins had decided to crash and join us, well, at that time downtown was a little more wild west than it is now, and as we were all enjoying the night, it happened. An argument ensued on the dance floor, and as was customary at Minneapolis nightclubs in the 90's, they started shooting. Picture this, packed club, to the gills, and shots go off, yep, pretty much every one heads for the door. As we all crowded out the door I was doing my head check as I usually did, and one of my cousins was missing. Auntie will say, that it was 'just me', I will say that  I was more worried about answering to Auntie for letting one of us get injured than get shot myself. Found her standing in the middle of the dance floor paralyzed with fear. Either way, we got out of there safe and sound.

     What does that story mean? Well, when it comes to emotions and me allowing them to be in me, now, I am that paralyzed person in the middle of the dance floor, and at the same right, I got a conductor who is barking orders on how to keep my head down, and I need to listen, cuz if I don't, it could end me. So, I will hold my position on the train, in the club, in life, and I will stay alert and diligent, with the help of those around me and my God. 

LLLAKYFOTPA XD

Broken

beautifully broken

bruised battered

bashed beaten

born into a broken world

trying to find a light in the dark

we hunt

we pick

we fuss 

we fight

searching seeking

soulful yearning

to catch a ray of sun

on a cloudy day

looking for the missing piece

so many pieces

so little time

so much confusion

time space continuum

we seek

we find

we knock 

we open

the time we spend

with those we love

make it spark

for spark makes fire

burn baby burn

let your light shine

this little light of mine

i'm gonna let it shine

we sing

we dance

we live

we laugh

we love

one love

one heart

one moment in the sun

let the sun shine in

Be Ugly.

     So, I got reminded of a story, a story that touches my soul, it's called 'Ugly the cat', you can see Youtube videos of it, but also, here it is:

                                                                 Ugly the Cat

Everyone in the apartment complex where I lived knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love.
The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye and where the other should have been was a hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.
Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby, striped type, except for the sores covering his head, neck and even his shoulders. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!!!”
All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.
Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.
Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly, I thought.
Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear - Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying, was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.
At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.
Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful .
He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.
Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me,
 I will always try to be Ugly.

     Now, knowing some of you as I do, you may try to debate whether this story is fictional or true, in that, I don't care. I did my usual research on it, as I would with other things, cuz that's just who I am, and was not able to find any defining answer. In that, there are very few people trying to debunk it.
    Wether Ugly existed or not is not the point, because I'm betting that every single one of us pictured a being that we could associate with, a bit of Ugly inside of us, or, a bit of Ugly in our memories. So, thank you to whoever wrote this, and for me, I am going to try and be Ugly for the rest of my life.

-Preach
      

t-minus... so...

to look into our past is sometimes like

trying to reassemble a broken mirror

our reflection ever changing and rippling 

in the glint of the broken shards

as we get closer to getting the picture

it twists and bends

reflecting the light to different angles

casting shadow and beams in directions we never thought possible

to stare into the reflection

almost feels as if 

to look into the grave of your love

to see the unthinkable

and yet

there is a new form

as the pieces come together further

you see a form you have never seen before

but also

on the edges you cut

and bleed

the picture starts to take on a new life

your reflection is not as it once was

and the cuts create scars

still

to look into the reflection

is much like staring down the barrel 

of a loaded gun

the bullet in the chamber

quivering in anticipation

waiting to blow your head off

in all of that

there is something

like to see the sun

for the first time

or to touch the sky on a spring day

whatever it is

you must continue

continue you must

for you know that

in the new reflection

there is something

it could kill you

or it could save your soul

and set you free

Wicked Twisted Road

     'My first love was a wicked twisted road, hit the million mark at 17 years old, and I never saw the rainbow, much less the pot of gold. My first love was a wicked twisted road.' - Reckless Kelly
     The wicked twisted road... my first love... not really, but it sometimes has seemed that way, i have often wondered about all the what if's and what could have been's, and yet... a pattern is forming. I used to say that life has no pattern, no form, just an endless chain of unscheduled events that randomly clash to make a thing that we call a life, and then it ends. Now, I am on the edge of something new and yet old, there is a point in my life that I have rarely tread. Love. I'm not talking about the love of a family, I have never really had a problem with that, it's the love of a mate that I have feared and stayed away from. In many ways, like a plague.
     What is the definition of love? Well... Webster's defines it as...
1 a(1): strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties <maternal love of a child>
     (2): attraction based on sexual desire: affection and tenderness felt by lovers
     (3)  affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests <love for his old schoolmates>
    b: an assurance of affection <give her my love>
2 :warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion <love of the sea>
3 a :warm attachment, devotion, or admiration <baseball was his first love>
   b: (1) :a beloved person: darling - often used as a term of endearment
      (2) British - used as an informal term of address
4 a : unselfish, loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another: as
       (1) : the fatherly concern of God for humankind
       (2) : brotherly concern for others
   b : a person's adoration of God
and yet, none of those describe the love that I try to define, I think of an all consuming fire that is quenched by that look, that touch, that one word, that little wiggle or wink that just make whatever is going on melt away. Not some fly by night thought or such, but a lasting feeling, years and years of it. Have I had it? Yes. I have, and what did I do with it? I went down that wicked twisted road, and prayed 'Dear God' watch over her. So, what happens from here? I guess I'm gonna find out.
     I have a pair of dice on my right shoulder, surrounded by flames. What does it mean? I got it almost a decade ago, it was the way I was living, win it all or lose everything. Well, I have lost everything, time and time again, and yet, there was one thing I never went all in with. My heart, with a woman, I always held things back, and hid things, always shadow games, a false front, and in that, it created a plethora of problems.
   I know we all too often blame life, I got hurt, I saw what happened with my parents, relatives, neighbors, so on and so forth. One of my memories that I am afraid formulated my childhood thoughts of love and relationships is a time when, I remember being upset that one of my best friend's parents had been going through a vicious divorce, and I remember being distraught that my parents would be next. My mom and dad reassured me by taking me into the bathroom, and standing us together as a family, and then proceeded to talk about how we were a family because they loved each other, and my dad saying, 'we will never get a divorce.' Not even a year later, my mom sat crying in her station wagon as I had to run into her church and tell them that one of the wise men wasn't going to be in the play because he had just left his family. Was my fate sealed with that? No, but it had set up some things in my head, was it my dad's fault? No, he was and is a man, and since he wasn't, isn't perfect, he had made decisions that affected all of us. In that, I was always fearful, I was always jaded, and as my broken self searched for love, I had no idea what I was really looking for, and even more so, I had no idea how to be.
     As I grew older, I continued my failures in relationships, time and time again, I would rarely say the three words, and when I did, I still had no idea what they meant, or better yet, how they felt. Well, I guess in a short while I may be betting it all... going all in... and for me... i'm ready... may God be my guide in this... I'm willing to go all in, don't get me wrong, I'm scared as hell... but at the same right... like John Wayne once said, 'It ain't whether or not you feel fear, all men feel fear, it's whether or not you saddle up or not'... LLLAKYFOTPA XD

Crags And Crevices

Lately, I have been writing more edgy stuff, kinda like the old stuff from the REALLY old blog, unfiltered, uncensored, but at the same right, different, since my life has changed a little since then. So there will be more wanton ramblings between two new blogs, I already have some things written in which I will deposit each one in it's own special spot when it is deemed time. Either or, there is gonna be 'The Soapbox', where I will spout upon my personal beliefs and wonderments, and why I believe them, and there will be 'Crags and Crevices', which will be more of the old 'randoms' stuff.(and will be written mostly free flowing, so for you grammar nazi's, beware, you will have a seizure with my lack of punctuation and spelling phonetically at times) Either or, that's how it's gonna be, I will still post other stuff on old blogs from time to time, but I just feel driven to write like I used to write, cept different. I love each and every one of you and God does too. LLLAKYFOTPA XD