Writings of a Worrier

The place words come to live

[worriedwords]

[worriedwords]

I'm Not Much

I mean I'm jobless and a sloth

Too smart for my own good, too dumb to know

Fat, abrasive, and fragile

That's me and apparently, not what women want. I get so depressed when this happens, the leading around by a leash with good sweet comments and lies of a future all to end because of what? Are you scared to give a fuck? Does it just burn your soul to actually follow through? I'm disgusted and ashamed to even fuck with you people because it always ends up in a heap of my own self pity and confusion. I'm never expected my heart being bashed into shards by a gorgeous executioner. You'd think I would after years of this abuse but I'm just numbed to it these days. Like an Oxy junkie I just ignore the needles piercing my skin and ride the high as long as it lasts until I'm kicked off the ride like an abandoned child. Today, I'm detoxing. Today's the end of me letting this bullshit ruin me again and again, you wanted a jaded piece of shit world? You have one.

[worriedwords]

Some Bloody Heart Shit

I'm feeling pretty stupid and vulnerable today. It's been a few days since we last touched and saw each other and while I felt that instance went well, you've acted strange. Just like you did when you quit talking to me for a week. Remember? And do you also remember me saying it nearly ruined us for good? It is truer than anything I've ever said to you. I've had too many scars given to me emotionally as a man, I can't let more build up as I go. The worst of those scars are the ones from being left behind by lovers, the cuts that have went the deepest easily.

I've always had problems with keeping people around, and I'm not naive anymore to think it is always just others either. I know I'm weird, fat, lacking of anything monetary at the moment, lacking in self-esteem as you can see, emotionally disturbed, and sexually confused and frustrated. I know those shouldn't and aren't excuses but for me they are reality. A grim reality that comes bubbling up to the surface every time you're short and distant. Maybe I just cared way too fast. Maybe you look at me as a convenience that is good for only short spurts of effort and time. Maybe I'm just a dick, a soft, awkward one that needs love to work. Maybe I'm just too much of a disaster for you to relieve, who knows huh?

That's the biggest knock I can find about myself: I love too quickly and get burned each time. Yet with these facts concrete, I seem to fall into my self-made traps every single time. I'm exhausted from fighting out of these issues and trying to find a borderline. I just need someone real for once, someone that sees my broken self as what they've been searching for. I'm beginning to think that idea is a novelty and impossible, I'm beginning to think solitary confinement is my future. I am very quickly realizing that this could be all me rather than partly so, and that I'm simply too odd for a true connection that lasts.

In the end, I'm not going to try to communicate with you for as long as you notice. I'm going to try and keep myself occupied with tasks, podcasts, and friends that like to converse until you notice I'm not around. When or if you notice and respond, I'll just let you know that I feel unwanted these days. Those hours long conversations about our pasts, our goals, and our present tenses seem lightyears away from today now. I feel a coldness in our talks, and a shortness in your correspondance. I'll finally take a hint for once, that hint shows me I'm not needed like I thought I was. Do I hurt? Badly. Unlike before though, I will survive whether I end up spotaneously combust or not.

[worriedwords]

A Silly Freewrite

We live in times of grave fear and worry, days of which we aren't certain will even have an eternity. It seems as though things have changed so drastically lately, little do we know this has been in the making. Hundreds and arguably thousands of years have led us here, into the cesspool that's a despot's wet dream. We're consuming, hell that's all we've been led to believe in anyways right? There's no God except for the Gods of War and Commerce. Those two drunken fools are who we should kneel to, besides is there a human on earth to invest into? I've never met them and if I did I'd drop them, down to the ground and stomp them out. We can't have change, change is only a mirage and a lousy, worded exchange filled with similes and attempts at meaning that ends with nothing and dreams unfulfilling. They end up sounding like manifestos, constitutions, or declarations of independence, those things of the past we rarely ever mention. Today it is all about drones and broken bones, we care less about privacy or keeping our own in homes. It is a nation, nay a world of the individuals with no time or need for principles. Without a collection we can focus on our own self interests, by god this is America's Globe. My native land, my native home. Where you can go down the road and be tased for disagreeing with the status quo. OH MY, this is my home oh it IS my home. The same place I've always known, that road that never ends when it comes to the corruptions going on. My native home, that place you know. The one that our ancestors fought and died to keep afloat. That large land mass out in the middle of the ocean between the Asians and the Euros, oh my home is the Land of the Free to Collect and the Brave Enough to Silence the Rest. As long as you're blind and your gall died long ago, you have a home in this nation of my own. No need for the dreamer, no need for the rouge because we're a nation of the plenty and the plenty demand we keep on. 

[worriedwords]

A Story About A Lost Boy

Waking up to the face of a nearly bawling mother is never a grand start to the day. Whilst you attempt to look among your lack luster, dirtied walls from yesteryear you wonder what it is the problem could be. A loud and pleasant gasp came outward from my mom, no lighting in the room but the deceased tears are obvious.

“What happened?! I’ve tried waking you up for hours and thought you were dead?” she said in a gloom I’ve not heard in my life. My mind processed her question, my wits about me had no idea what they meant. I remained under the modest, light bed sheet trying to figure out why it’s not only 3:35 pm and I’m waking. Also, I notice a mental haze.

“Corey can you speak?” my mother said again in an increasing crescendo. The sweet little dogs my mom owns have me surrounded, lurking around aimlessly to try and find either crumbs or realization.

“I came home from work earlier because when I tried waking you up at lunch, you didn’t respond, when I called and texted you didn’t answer far after you should always be up so I got worried and went home to check on you. How many pills did you do?”

How many DID I do? 5, 6, 8, 14? Anyone’s guess is as good as mine. The night prior was an odd one, filled with boredom and a complete loss of inhibition. I couldn’t tell you why real, maybe it stemmed from the 10 days house arrest I did not long ago. I say that’s a pussy move though, that’s an excuse that weak people use. At the very least WEAKER people than I. The pills didn’t seem like they’d do a lot because I hadn’t done any in a little bit. Come around midnight, I decided I wanted some good ol’ fashion fun- the only kind you can find in a dirty alleyway in Thailand or New York- so I began to pop pills. Opening volley was 7, which gave me a slight body high similar to some fairly decent herb. About an hour later, I thought it was smart to take 4 more. For a couple of hours I flew for a while, getting dangerously close to the Gentry Wilderness Safari. In fact, I reached down and pet a live lion whom actually gave me great advice:

“Boy, you never unbuckle the safety belt until you’re slowing down.”

If only the lion were more persuasive. After the loop around my neck of the woods (no literally, the woods infest the part of the world I inhabit) I made it back home merely 2 miles away. I even flew into my room and as I sprawled out in what I believed was cold another epiphany struck me. Perhaps, it is time to go old school. In my relaxed, stumbling haze I recalled all of the nights filled in nasty bathrooms of strange home owners snorting pills whom’s names and effects were inconsequential. Filling cars to the brim with thugs of all walks of life loading a bowl of weed just before someone brings out the great idea of sprinkling a mystery pharmaceutical dust before sharing a glass pipe among friends and some acquaintances. Ohhh those were the days. The nights in front of large bonfires, drinking cheap beer until there was none left which would always culminate in a drunk driving down somewhere to by more. Sometimes if it was too late, a possible robbery of a fridge may have taken place.

But that was then, and this is now. Only a couple of days after being off of house arrest for probably the most pathetic car wreck in the history of humanity, I found myself either drinking or doing pills again. Unlike many years or times before I used to get incredibly nervous and adrenaline filled when I took from someone’s drug supply but until recently it just felt like normality for me. I would take at least 4 pills a night, hit them at once and coast before bed. However that then became 6, then 8, then 10, and last night it was close to 17. Did I want to die? Not at all. I ignorantly figured I was able to tolerate the man made elixir but I supposedly didn’t.

My mother was going to work around 7. She asked if I wanted to go get some breakfast for myself and I told her I was kinda messed up but sure. We got to the store, I found what I was looking for and we went to the counter. As I walked, I would feel myself sway but I kept upright. As we paid for our things and left my mom said that I shouldn’t have gone because I embarrassed her. I went into a rage, claiming I’d told her that I was honest before we left and it was squashed. We hugged (yes I’m a sensitive boy) and she went home. I had my day, I talked to my dad and everything like normal. Then, my friend Chad showed up.

Chad’s a childhood friend whom I’ve known since we were 8 years old. He’s been there for me for some of the most intense moments in my life: break ups, drug addictions, college woes, and the list goes on. So anytime he’s at the house, it’s a big deal. We sat on the wrap around sofa in my parents’ living room and shot the shit with dad for a bit, and everything seemed fine. Chad had to leave, so I went to walk him out and accidentally tripped on the coffee table and suddenly my dad went off.

“Prahbleh shudn’ta dun all dem pells boi, luuk at yuh wahddlin’ around lyke sum drunk foo.” with a red face I’d not seen in some time.” His face was beat red, his teeth were clinched and I knew, just as I did all the way back in 2003 at 14 years old that there would be a day we fought. Regardless of that, I tried diffusing the situation.

“Dad what are you even talking about? I’m not pilled up, I took a pain pill earlier what’s the problem?”

As this was said he sat up further, spewing forth more absurdities until finally he stood to his feet. I’ve always been a pretty calm guy when it comes to confrontation, or at the very least I avoid it with all that I can. The issue though, is my father has never “bowed up” to me and so I decided I’d like in kind. We got face to face, his teeth gritting and my eyes rolling in tears out of anger before my mom and Chad broke us up. I left the house and thankfully, my great friend Katelyn answered a desperate phone call and drove me around the vast metropolis known as Gentry to try and cool me down. A podcast came of it thankfully and it truly was the best therapy I could have had in that moment. So what is the point in this diatribe? More than anything it is a personal journal entry for me. Writing and podcasting are my therapists and without them, I’m be some suicidal bum in a railway station begging for scraps and quarters. Never give up, even when your will’s being twisted in a chokehold. 

[worriedwords]

2013's Broken Legacy

2013 will be a year that will be hard to compare to any ever before. Within one year, we’ve seen militaristic, political, and societal tragedies and revelations which have further polarized and alienated the world. The Syrian people continue to kill each other in both the name of progress and also, the name of “the norm". We’ve had further reports of Middle Eastern dissension that’s leading to what will surely be indefinite American occupation, which has proven to be moot in Iraq and Afghanistan where continual sabotage occurs. 

The biggest danger to America, is America itself. In the wake of a circus known as the George Zimmerman trial, we’ve been shown with the brightest possible spotlight what our country values over all else: attention. The constant battle against race has been a staple of the American consciousness and in 2013, things are no different. Often in the my region I hear the screams of “If only niggers would do such and such" in regards to how to end the issues, funny since the slur used to describe them as a ethnicity ruins any chance of compromise. Whites aren’t the only ones that scream absurdities however, it seems that regardless of what culture or ethnicity an American is bred in there is an underlying prejudice among us. We’ve been programmed to be color recognizing bots, therefore anything that screams “we’re all the same, man" is scoffed at and parodied. 

Politically, America’s collective eyes have been sewn open and the images of a corrupt and hateful leviathan are shove into the brain stems of us all. Not only the NDAA debacle that has made arresting innocent civilians legal, but both the Bradley Manning detention and the new Eric Snowden NSA scandal have proven that our government isn’t interested in real truth or justice: no no, we’re a nation of dirty diggers. The suits in the District want us to ignore them as they tap our buttocks’ lightly and sneakily before jamming the hard rod of constant surveillance into our virgin assholes. It has become such a problem in fact that the Supreme Court has decided an investigation is necessary, something rarely done in the Age of Cooperation among the branches of government. I would love to believe that they’ll see the injustice that’s gone on for over a decade now, but reality and history tell a story of constant lies and manipulation of the system that’s gotten us to this ashy fallout period we live in in the US. 

Things are no longer so simply able to be swept under the rug. The days of JFK’s cock exploits, or LBJ’s fugazi war in Vietnam are long gone. The digital age of constant information has disallowed such things. Despite Obama’s constant attempts to go back to those horrid days with his NSA backing and loose prosecutions of those considered “enemies of the state" the will of social evolution doesn’t favor him and his cronies. Indeed 2013 could very well be the year that we all look back on and say “That was the year the shit started to hit the fan, and we won the Battle Against Secrecy once and for all". Then again, we may also look back and howl at the ways in which the status quo changed the books on us and herded us into whatever they want us in. Big brother is watching, as Orwell so eloquently described years ago but now we know. Also, now we don’t care or listen. Hi NSA, I hate what you are doing with a passion. 

[worriedwords]

The Torn Sap

It's that end of the school year haze I'm in

Reminiscing about things when

The world seemed less crumbled and jumbled,

confused and abused,

just as I've felt for over a year now.

I've lately been haunted by you,

Your visage so pristine but the message so macabre

I can only awake in sobs

Releasing the strange energy you convey

Even when you're so far away

I worry about myself these days

When the weather's so perfect

But inside me it is turbulent.

My hobby of passion keeps me going,

everything else isn't worth it it seems,

especially at night when I dream,

which always consists of being so close to you,

I even get a scent of your aura, something

I never even got to experience.

Then it goes away, sometimes because of another.

Taking you sexually in the same ways I always wanted

Or your own accord, like I did to you over a year ago.

I'm not telling you I want you again,

I'm not ignorant enough to think it'll happen,

I just want you to know you never died in my heart,

and you never, ever will.

I'll be buried with the memory of our correspondence.

One few will ever experience,

A love that knew no boundaries of geopolitics or ethnicities

Pure, real love.

Goodbye again, I'm alone once again.

For I always was however.

[worriedwords]

Loathing Words of the Weekend

I dream often of waking next to her, her hair all disheveled and her eyes weary with sleep. Her hands upwards, stretching out all of the excess sleepy energy while I embrace her with a simple kiss and cuddle. Her eyes gaze into mine and my heart wallops to the beat of a great bass drum in a long parade band. Those are the dreams I cherish and the reality I yearn for, the one that I pissed away. Perhaps not, perhaps life pissed it away.

I've lost it, I've gone away from where I used to be when she was around. No longer am I so aggressively negative, no now I just embrace my isolation. I've come to accept that I'm hard to deal with, how is it simple for a woman to deal with such a passionate, honest person. Someone so deeply entrenched in the world of the defensive that a simple joke can send them into a tiff. I'm broken, I'm aware now. This isn't to say I can't be mended but as of now I'm more focused on fully finding all the shards that are scattered among my mental multiverse, so many various ways in which they can be super glued into collectivity. Shall I be a bitter, negative being that disregards their talents for sorrow? Or will I become that overly driven success story, complete with a lack of soul and remorse for the collective human experience?

I've found myself finding my worth in women's opinions of me, how they address me and look at me. I feel like a Norse god only when a woman tells me I'm attractive and interesting, and feel like a common thief when otherwise. I've been told by many that this is a problem and surely it is, but in a way I like it this way. I like it until the walls crash down, then I'm a refugee of my own life.

When I flee myself, I'm lost but tranquil. The common stresses and agendas that I've put on myself are stripped and despite having no home country, my mental status flourishes in a world without lines. It allows me to be the person I struggle with becoming daily, it strips the depression and anxiety away and I can finally be free. Sadly, it also leads to further isolation and down the road, further depression and heartache. I toggle with myself daily and it sucks.

Saturday I had a nightmare about her. She was so beautiful and tranquil, yet she was servicing another man with her pretty mouth. My reaction was like any other's of pure disdain and self-hate, and once I awoke the depression hit heavy. I no longer wanted to bother and especially didn't want to be haunted so often by what was and will never be. Thankfully I found fellow sufferers later in that night and for the time being, I care enough to continue.

For it may become, or it may not but the agenda is always the same: comfort, distraction, and maintenance.

[worriedwords]

The Demon Drug...or Are We Full of Shit?

We are living in a tipping point era as I type this little rant/manifesto/opinion piece or whatever the fuck this will be seen as. In an age where security and surveillance is at an all time high, the majority are slowly awakening to the misleading natures of governments. From the rejection of tyranny during the Arab Spring in 2011 to the Spanish revolts of the turning year into 2013, the civilians of the world are making stands against the wrongs they see and live under thanks to corrupt, ignorant officials.

America is not exempt from this phenomena. The States' revolts are much different however; our's are civil and legal revolutions. From the Occupy Wall Street peaceful assemblies to various other protests that have gone on over the last few years addressing various issues from abortion, gun rights, violence against children and women, and on through the spectrum of hot button topics of the day. The largest revolution however has been taking place state by state through slow but history changing legislation. No, it isn't addressing the very real poverty epidemic in America, nor is it addressing the unjust wars in the Middle East. It involves one substance, a substance that is perhaps as controversial as any torture case from the Bush days, or even the abortion debate that has raged for decades now. What is this issue you may ask your doe-eyed selves? Marijuana.

I don't think it is a secret to anyone that pays attention to my twitter (@Writtenconsent, cheap plug) that I'm pro-legalization however I'm not just some dreamer pot head with no ambition. I happen to be a Junior in college for political science and journalism. I happen to strive to better my knowledge on things and especially keep up with the research and going-ons involved with marijuana science. I know that marijuana doesn't kill brain cells at an accelerated rate like so many bureaucrats and overall dimwits want you to believe. In fact, you can lose more brain cells bumping your head mildly on something than you can smoking a joint. This isn't my opinion, this is scientific evidence. "Wur's dis evehdance den boayh?" you may be asking? Here's a piece done back in 2009 by Vanderbilt University, a college that for those whom are international is considered one of the most prestigious colleges in the country, in fact many claim it is the best college in the whole Southern region of the country. An excerpt regarding brain cell damage claims:

According to Morgan and Zimmer(The researchers), in order to achieve these damaging results, doses of up to 200 times the psychoactive dose in humans would have to be given. Even studies in which subjects were given 100 times the human dose failed to cause any structural impairment of the brain. Additionally, in a more recent study of rhesus monkeys by Slikker et. al (1992), in which the monkeys were exposed to the equivalent of 4-5 joints per day through face-mask inhalation for an entire year, seven months later there was no observed change in hippocampal structure, cell size, cell number, or synaptic configuration. As a result of these studies, Morgan and Zimmer concluded that the claim that marijuana causes physiological damage to brain cells is incorrect.

You can find this piece over at: http://healthpsych.psy.vanderbilt.edu/2009/MarijuanaBrain.htm

So here's my point: don't make claims about things you have no knowledge of. The largest deterrent of marijuana legalization is our own government that puts out consistent propaganda against the drug. To me, this looks like the last-ditch efforts of a collective that has been built on, at least in terms of drugs, completely ignorance and diversions from the truth. Reefer madness, D.A.R.E. and various other programs for decades have perpetuated this myth that marijuana is a gateway drug, that if you smoke it you'll become some unmotivated, uninteresting zombie. That is simply untrue and unproven by so much scientific research. Not research done by liberals, hippies, drug dealers, skateboard manufacturers, fast food joints, or any other industry usually associated with the stoner culture: it is done by real, unbiased scientists.

I think the biggest problem comes from people who "had a friend" who died from weed, or went into a coma from one hit, or the various other stories you hear from so many people who want to fight to the death against weed. The facts are that no one has ever been recorded as ODing on the drug EVER IN HISTORY. That should tell you something, but of course for those blinded by completely falsehoods it is an impossibility. Another thing to realize from these tales is, everyone's brain chemistry is different. It is not different than those who can't drink or they'll go into a completely violent psychosis. Those people are not examples of why alcohol is a demon elixir, they are merely an exception to the rule of most people being able to drink and not kill someone. The same can be said for marijuana. Are there people that get severely damaged by weed? Sure. However, it isn't because the substance is an all-encompassing devil to society, it just means that person's brain chemistry isn't wired to handle the effects of the substance plain and simple.

In the end, you'll believe what you want. I understand this and I'm far from naive enough to think that reading some blog post from some random fuck online is going to change your whole outlook on this issue however, if you simply stay out of the way of those that DO find benefit in it you'll see that marijuana isn't such a bad thing after all. In fact, I think you'll find that once marijuana is legal and you happen to get a stoner neighbor, we're quite kind and polite. We may even get bored and help you eat leftovers.

[worriedwords]

Goodbye Angel

The bus leaves tomorrow,

Get all your things you aren't coming back

I know it is hard, I know you hate me and it,

But I need some serious time for some thinking.

And I'm thinking,

At the present tense in which we're existing,

That I resent the consent that I lacked when I proposed my feelings,

And how you were quick in scoffing at my pleading to keep believing,

Yet I get it.

I got it last night in the sheets,

When I went to give you mouth energy on your jeans

And you sprang up, panting in a horrid audibility.

I rushed to my senses, the blood climbing from my penis,

And there it was, the onomatopoeia that clutched me.

Lost and feeling claustrophobic,

Completely lonely even beside you.

It was all because of your eyes, your tone, and your closed thighs.

The sign,

It was brighter than any neon contraption,

Or any old aged sea attraction,

You gave no fucks about me, 

And the worst part is that neither did I.

If love is blind, I found my bifocals and focused,

Realizing that just because your ass is gorgeous,

And your mind is enormous, potentially revolutionary,

Doesn't mean we're complimentary.

We're the poles of the North and South drudges, 

The products of the hometowns and homes we were brought up in,

Midwestern,

Southern,

Suburban sycophants,

With no world travels,

No great stories of battle,

No novels to put up on a mantel,

Just ourselves.

That thing that's our collective,

That you didn't want to protect,

So it was left to mold and weather.

Sure, you said I was the best you ever had,

But if that's the case that's mighty sad.

You had no problems weaving the deception,

That lead to my disembowelment on the pavement.

So I decided it was best you leave out today,

Don't you dare cry for me.

Thought should have been made,

Plans have been however.

I never want to see you again,

And have fun up there in Denver.

I hear it is pristine in February,

Glorious fields full of misunderstood passion plants,

I'm almost envious,

Then I remember us,

And as a tear sheds and dies,

I realize,

Simply that we were meant to meet and learn from each other.

The lesson?

That love is blind, and so is redemption. 

[worriedwords]

An Ode to the Sorry Sap

I'm ripped up tonight girl

Could you just come into my world

And quit acting like the problem lies in you

And realize that things get shitty and true

That truth can be dirty

My anger can morph and boil

Yet it doesn't mean I'm being hateful

To you or your soul

Your essence

Your aura

Hate bred me

And I breed it to existence

I can love though

And I want you to take that,

Use it to form your smile

I need your transactions

but when you're mad at me I can't have it

I'm a sucker for losing

And an addict for disappointing

Am I still that sexy guy you found?

Or am I just a statistic on your cruel grounds?

Make your rounds

Schmooze with your friends

Be the socialite you deem yourself to be

But don't forget me

Because when I'm neglected

I get incredibly engulfed by vengeance

And entrenched in resentment

Become a demon of despair,

A anti-hero of derangement

So please don't let me change over

Like the howling sap turning were,

Because I really like you,

and I think we're close to getting there.

That utopia of love and care,

The long, winding road,

To venture I've never dared.

The inkling of a normalcy,

I've never been a part of or personally seen.

Please be the one thing in my life that's seamless,

Be that flawless transition

From the black and white, hateful past,

To the technicolor, embrace that lasts.

[worriedwords]

Just when I think I'm ok

I see your words and my insides disintegrate into a billion little, rotten bits. Your hold on me is unhealthy, until I hear you laugh or see you smile.

[worriedwords]

Oceans Away

Your memory haunts me like a ghost

My mind begins wavering, going loose

I've spent all the time I can alone

With others

Unhappy

Or otherwise bothered.

I'm torn and tattered like the sail of a founding father's ship

I miss what you were

I miss where I was

Who I came, despite slipping now back into hatred.

I'm weakened by thoughts of those months

Ripped wide open by my remembrance of your voice

Chilled by your image.

I'm spellbound and awestruck by my own anguish

I need another hit so I can manage it more

But I'm left half stoned, perplexed as always

Tears nearly upon me because I sank our ship

We're left alone, deep in the ocean

Flailing to stay alive against the current and misfortune.

Let me try and save myself by saving you.

[worriedwords]

I Miss The Mementos

that you'd leave me on my lit screens

Little thank yous, I love yous, and you dreamt of me's.

Every now and then, a picture of your reddened cheeks

Those were the favorites

Because I always can do with a face so sacred.

The little texts you'd send with smiley faces in the perfect places

The simple phrases that made everything erase

The amazing personality and kind heart

That feeling of butterflies that never stopped

Those love letters I sent to you nightly, simple paragraphs telling you how I felt

About all the silly tears I shed thinking about the distance, about ourselves.

The silly things are always cherishable.

I miss those first months, talking for hours about things

Everything

Nothing

The simple goodbyes that would crush me into dustings

Yet the simple hellos that would bring me back to my solid state

My heart would race

When you told me that I meant everything.

Now that is gone.

Now we have that strange cadence of hellos.

Now I'm dying, or sometimes that's what I suppose.

[worriedwords]

Foggy Days

Fog has a very heavy spot in my heart. That's something many will never understand, that I am sure of. It represents so many different times, places, feelings, fuck ups, accomplishments, and then some; checkpoints in a long list of incidents known as my life. Fog reminds me of the summer nights spent wide awake, wasting time doing what I thought was reminiscence but in reality it was self-loathing. I would spend many summer nights going through my various yearbooks, following the line of classmates with a finger with each stop of the extremity representative of a certain story or feeling from within myself. I did this for years, believing that it was therapy for me, but now I look at those times as the slow burn towards a mental ailment; an inability to let go of things.

Fog reminds me of the mornings spent working hard in the dog food plant, picking up miscellaneous trash and wasted product for hours on end. It reminds me of the beginnings of hell just to have a few hours of heaven at home, alone and drunk most of the time. It brings back that nervous feeling that I'm a fuck up, that there's nothing to ever learn from the job that sees nothing but ignorance at every turn. That deep fog reminds me of the Monday mornings after a long overnight shift spent cleaning a massive plant inch by inch. Sometimes the shifts would go well over twelve hours, all painful and grimy. One morning in particular, I was told I was no longer loved by a woman that I gave all of my hopes and dreams to. The fog represents an uneasiness to evolve or survive.

The fog recollects many nights spent fucked on whatever substance I could get my hands on as a late teen. It brings back those pill trips I would go on every now and then, that morning I drove home after several pain pills and a Methadone just to go talk to Jeff across the highway completely out of it. It recalls all the drunken mornings spent trying to hide the fact I'd drive miles, without any idea how and where I was going where I was going. The stumbling entrances into my parents' home hoping they'd ignore my drunk giggling. One night in particular when the riot broke out at Patriot Place, and I jumped in the lucky truck to get out of the place as the cops passed us by.

Fog reminds me of Michigan, and a new start to my life. The very early morning when Meghan and I rushed to the library to print off papers to turn in mere minutes later. It brings back the anger I had for the North early on, the feeling that I wasn't worth piss in a golden stein and how no one ever says hello to you on the streets there. It reminds me of the bitter cold, and how I would welcome it just to feel something for once. It brings back the memory of Steve, the first roommate of the venture and how much of a liar and thief he became. The fog reminds me of Ted and Chance, the only two guys I ever really became friends with, and how ironic it is that they're so conservative politically while I'm not at all. It reminds me of Kat, and how much I loved her those days. How despite my deep depression, she kept me willing to live when no one had a chance with me. It reminds me of how incredibly hopeless I was, how isolated I became in a world full of people, and how I fight daily to keep away from that status daily.

The fog reminds me of my own heartache; the 7 hours spent online talking to Ashley the first time we ever met, the night that I finally broke it off with Lauren after many months of verbal and emotional abuse, the mornings that Carrie would sneak out in her truck and we'd drive all the way to Bentonville for cigarettes, how we both would talk about the future and how incredibly different things became. It reminds me of early morning weed sagas with Chad, Chris, and sometimes even that lowlife Deano. It reminds me of aimless driving at 7 in the morning with a Monster Energy in the cross hairs and no care in the world. It reminds me of the quarters I would jank from my dad's jar just to get breakfast every now and then in my early days. It reminds me of high school mornings, groggy but unaware of how lucky we all were to have no responsibility or baggage. 

More than anything, the fog reminds me of a new day. Every instance I've mentioned was superseded by the happiness of a new day, that whatever bullshit happened the night before was just history and now is now regardless of what status one is in. It reminds me of the hope I felt and still feel even today when things seem gloomy or negative. It's a constant reminder that regardless of the blistering heat of hate and uncertainty, there's always the overnight dew to wash all of that away and regroup the world towards a new reasoning. 

[machinaidle]

I’m the Iraqi child on the street, bleeding out in a sea of Americans grinning

I’m the Palestinian, shot and stumbling wide open on a field of Israeli tanks firing

I’m the transgender man, being beaten with fists and weapons without mercy

I’m the lost children on the street, forced to fuck for...

[worriedwords]

True Presidential Debates Exists in America

This was a very crude piece that I did literally while watching the debate, so excuse certain grammatical errors. I like to post things that are raw, and sometimes that means they seem disjointed or incomplete but I find that I work best this way. Give me feedback, good or bad I would truly appreciate it. Thank you for reading.

It's second string night in American Politics, tonight there will be what is called "The Third Party Presidential Debate" for the 2012 American Presidential Election. There are actually an impressive lot this year full of either former legislators that are sick and tired of the Washington run-around, or activists that figured "fuck it, I'll run and at least change the game somehow". Rocky Anderson is the candidate that in fact, I had no idea about along with Virgil Goode Jr of the Constitution Party. Anderson is a strange bird, not in the "Romney alienates nearly half of America" sense but more so in the random assortment that is his platform. Anderson is running in the brand new Justice Party, which from what research I have done on the party simply means a much more Economic Libertarianism. Anderson wants to do away with health care as is, in return for a single-payer plan which would mean that you go to the hospital and you pay only what you owe without a long-running insurance plan. The majority of the platform is as I said before, heavily economic. Calls for prohibition of corporate funding of campaigns and candidates, a financial transaction tax; which basically means you're only taxed for single transactions rather than ongoing taxes you pay, an abolition of corporate person hood, various environmental sanctions on the Keystone Pipeline, various mining operations, and other forms. Also, the belief of universal healthcare is very important to Anderson and the Justice Party, almost as important as cutting the heads off of the multi-headed dragon that is corporate America. Anderson however has a strange past, one filled of accusations of public funding fraud, political party hopping, and a checkered marital past (not that I give a fuck, but some apparently do). 

That leads us to the aforementioned Virgil Goode Jr, a former Republican Representative for the state of Virginia who is running on the Constitution Party's ticket. Goode is the scariest of the four candidates in this debate to me, not because he's party hopped more than Anderson or anyone else I've ever seen for that matter; but because of his belief systems. Goode began as a Democrat, then quickly shifted to Independent and got most of his fame from being Republican, until years ago claiming his home in the Constitution Party. Goode claims he is "simply conservative" and is all about that claim from all I can see. Goode was part of the coalition to impeach Bill Clinton in 2000, as well as against amnesty for illegal aliens. His prized piece of voting history in my mind is his agreement on a War in Iraq, something that has proven to be a massive failure. I think what says most about Goode is the fact that the Democrats all but threw him out of the party after the bizarre voting history and actions by Goode. Goode took this as a hint and went Republican, then went off the grid to the Constitution party. He was part of the voters against online poker, which clearly succeeded in that effort. He was against more troops in the Middle East, because it would "assist jihadists" and in the same quote babbled on about Muslims taking over the White House. All in all, Goode is batshit crazy. He's a Republican plus more, and from what I can tell by the early goings of this debate a moron with spoken words. Goode says he wants to put a moratorium on green cards until unemployment rates are down to 5 percent nationally. This is clearly an anti-diversity stance and for what reason? He thinks that immigrants made the economy so poor. No Mr. Goode, our bullshit, corporations-first mindset as a country did this.

Jill Stein is an activist queen. With a very impressive history as a practicing physician, she's more than clear about where the country should go. Running under the Green Party banner, the two biggest issues with Stein are environmental and also human rights related. She is pro-choice, pro-marijuana legalization, anti-fossil fuel abuse, and for the end to corporate hooks into all aspects of economic America. A Harvard Medical School graduate, Stein brings a very scientific and pragmatic point of view towards reproductive rights as well as the marijuana debate. Stein has been well known for activism towards war and staunchly anti-military intervention. Stein is huge on what is considered "entitlement" programs such as Social Security, Medicare and various others. Stein is very similar to Gary Johnson socially, and is well known for her sit-in protests at banks and various other institutes. 

Then, there is the New Mexico native Gary Johnson. Running under the Libertarian Party banner, Johnson is for the end to a War on Drugs as well as the wars in the Middle East that have sapped so much of the American debt. Johnson is opposed to the current tax code and wants an end to the IRS, claiming that taxation should be transparent and simplified. Johnson, like Anderson, is for a single-payer healthcare system that gives all people the ability to get treated and pay individual bills at lower costs. Johnson's largest platform policy is the balancing of the budget, that he claims he will do within his first year of office. I can't lie, I'm a Johnson guy. I was sold when I heard he was for more pragmatic spending practices and his war stances, I was definitely cemented when I heard his stance on marijuana but tonight; I am completely sold. Johnson's oratory skill is second to none, with very few verbal pauses. His tone and pacing is both soothing and deliberate, making you listen more and pay closer attention than you have before. Johnson for me is a guy that isn't full of shit, he's not a corporate scarecrow that is out to get his paycheck and go home. Sure, he's a politician and sure, that means he's told lies however I can assure that his lies are much less severe than those of Romney, Obama, or the various other national fuckwads in office today. 

So this debate went as I expected at first, the usual "I'm for blank" and "I'm against blank" opening statements that all politicians run through. Talks of marijuana legalization led to Anderson, Stein, and Johnson agreeing it should occur with Goode showing his insane colors with the cry "I am NOT for legalization!" which led to a strange mixed reaction from the crowd. Goode's face looks like that of some founding father, pretty ironic with his party being that of the Constitution. The talk went to war, with Anderson, Stein, and Johnson yet again agreeing that wars should only be fought when the nation is attacked with Goode putting up some half-assed argument that the wars we're in being justified. Time went on, faces got flush and strained with impassioned rhetoric and finally, the disagreement began. Oddly enough, it came with the student loan issue. Stein made the statement that college should be free, Anderson agreed, yet Johnson made a great statement: "Free comes with a cost" and stated the insane spending measures of America, with the idea being that there is no free but there is an ease of access that is needed. Goode then, adamantly said he is against more funding for colleges claiming the money isn't there. 

Then the talk of the controversial NDAA began. Stein started, stating that it should absolutely be abolished and made the claim that worrying about our security so much will not only destroy freedom but also destroy security. Anderson then agreed with this and went further to claim that tyranny is on the horizon if NDAA continues. Goode was then next, to simply say "I would not have voted for NDAA" to which Gary Johnson brilliantly claimed "Since this whole thing is about shamelessly shilling my case for you to vote for me, I'm going to shamelessly shill my case for you to vote for me" and went on to say that the ACLU rated all Presidential candidates on stances on civil liberties, claiming he scored the highest. 

This led to what constitutional amendment would the candidates amend. Anderson says Equal Rights to include sexual orientation, stating that the backing for it is tremendous. Goode then claimed he'd extend term limits on all national seats, saying that the current system undermines the system and doesn't allow for progress. Johnson agreed, saying that politicians that "beat their chests" on issue stances don't address true issues and don't lead to correspondence about those issues. That if the politicians were limited on their time in office, things would get done much quicker. The question went to Jill Stein, who's big amendment is one against corporate endorsements of candidates and the abolition of corporate person hood. "Stealing our rights of personhood, corporations gain their own rights of person hood" is a quote that was within this idea.

Closing statements began, with Virgil Goode starting off. He thanked Free and Equal, Larry King and various others. He claims if views are opened further, the country will progress. He claims jobs will be created much quicker under him rather than Obama and Romney, re-stating his green card moratorium in hopes for a decrease in unemployment. Goode claims that legislation can change corporate control, not an amendment. Johnson took the mic, and claims he wouldn't be running if he didn't think he would do a great job. He talks about his entrepreneur nature from his late teens construction business, that he sold it and began his political career against the grain in a heavily Democratic state as a Republican. He talked about his veto history against bills that he didn't believe in. He states his immigration stance that immigration should be easier and much less stigmatized. Workers should be allowed work visas easier. He talked about vote wasting being ridiculous and that "the only way to waste your vote, is to vote for someone you don't believe in." He says to "waste your vote on [him] and if you do, I'll become President of the United States.

Stein took her closing statement. Stein talks about people being ignorant to their power as citizens, that voting is dire and voter turn out is essential in changing things. She talked about the insane loan rates and interest rates towards students and younger adults. She calls for student voting increases to let their voices be heard and used. She talked again about the impending doom that corporate influence creates in American politics. She then stated again the need to change dependence on fossil fuels.

Anderson took the mic, beginning with talks about corporate politicians not doing things for the people. He stated that America is becoming a corporate, police state and that the reason Romney and Obama never talk about the military industrial complex is because they benefit from it. Anderson claims that both Obama and Romney don't discuss the real issues like global warming, and economic downturns because they are gaining from it. He also said there must be an end to the War on Drugs, and an implementation of a WPA like jobs plan nationally.

Larry King then went onto speaking about how honored he was to be the moderator. He talks about how thrilled he was to introduce Ross Perot twenty years prior, and that he find it so important to have Third Parties heard and taken seriously against the top two parties. That was it, the crowd went wild yet again and stood to honor the third party candidates. The announcement was then made that a second debate would happen the following Tuesday in Washington D.C. courtesy of Christina Tobin who is the head of the Free & Equal Foundation.

So, who won this debate? I've said before I'm a Gary Johnson guy, and I definitely was before this debate but being a political junkie, I was open minded heavily towards this debate. After all the talk, my only surprises are from Goode and Stein for two very different reasons. Jill Stein showed me a lot tonight, she was mostly very confident in her speaking and very direct and consistent. She was similar to two of the other three candidates but made twists and turns to her policies to stand out; when the other candidates said education should be free she said with NO OTHER CONDITIONS, when Johnson and Anderson stated marijuana should be legal she was ready with a great quote and medical evidence for it, and so on. Stein was a true force on stage, and in the coming weeks I believe there will be many people who devote their votes to the Green Party cause.

Virgil Goode on the other hand, looked wooden and out of touch. When he spoke at length about anything, he seemed horribly misinformed and completely lost. Most of his responses were one sentence responses with very little substance to them. Goode was the black sheep of the room, like the menacing and backwoods janitor on some Scooby Doo episode, trying to get one past the crowd of pseudo-hippies and fiscal conservatives. Goode was out of place, and honestly seemed more fit in Romney's place rather than some third party. He's a man that would have been better served in the McCarthy Era of time, scrounging around trying to find the dope smokers and Commies undermining the system. I think Goode's approach is to be more conservative than Romney and boy, he accomplishes that goal tenfold.

Rocky Anderson seemed like the fourth wheel on many of these issues. I think it didn't help that he was second down the line behind Stein, who seemed to say everything he was for, and same goes for Gary Johnson. Anderson didn't seem as devoted as the others except on the NDAA measure and on education. His stance on marijuana was copy and pasted from both Stein and Johnson's ideals, as well as his foreign policy. It didn't look like he stood for anything unique opposed to Stein and Johnson, so that hindered him greatly. 

Overall, I was incredibly refreshed by the debate. It felt like what I read politics to be in the 1960's and 1970's, a balls to the wall, ideologies vs ideologies and done so in a manner that is respectful and honest. It reminded me of the things I read about Robert Kennedy, George McGovern, and various other honorable and brave politicians that went against what many considered as safe bets on political lines and went towards the peoples' voices. I went in as a Gary Johnson guy, and sure I came out in the same vain but I'm rejuvenated to know that there are others like me, eager and willing to go against the two parties and vote for what they believe is right.