Monday, March 21, 2016

To Whom it may Constern

It's maddening. Crazy pains and fog and uselessness coming and going as it pleases, with no regard to my schedule or sanity. Like a phantasm, lurking just outside my peripheral mind-vision, refusing to be identified.
  A symptom glides in and latches onto me like a vampire bat on a moonless night, catching me all unawares. Once the fog clears I start to learn how to deal with it as best I can, and then, as I start to get a hold on it, it changes and mutates. Sometimes it unlatches and flies away, but almost always after a new one has latched on.
  Very rarely, in the last year, I have had brief spats of serenity. When all symptoms have fled. It has always come as more of a shock than the attacks. An uneasy truce of sorts. It hits me like the eye of an infinite storm. The storm undulates wildly all around me constantly, the same eye granting me its vision very seldomly.
  And then that peace is ripped away, before I even know what to do with it. Like a day off you cannot even enjoy. More like a 20min lunch break during a hellish work day, and the only food worth getting is 11 min away.
  And I can't shake the feeling of this shadowy observer lurking just outside of view. Ranging just on the edge of the fog of war. And he is shuffling these symptomatic cards around like the worst card game ever, dealt with nothing less than devious intentions, stacked from the start.
  Playing around with them, moving them as needed. Face down to start with,  he subtly bends a corner to show me its true face, then gently lifts it and takes it away. But there was a different card under it the
whole time.
  So I am left with this feeling of near discovery at certain points in the cycle, like there's some grand truth under the next card, but it never shows. On the far end, almost the opposite point on the wheel from the calm eye of the storm, stands this maddening edge. And at that moment, I feel like if I tap at the glass just a little harder, I will break thru. But I have no idea if its madness or truth on the other side. Maybe both, or they're the same. And I've tasted both at those points. But just a taste.
  And like the strangest of cravings, it is filed and categorized in my mind, never fully forgotten. It's an inevitable conclusion, an ending that's already been written, but not yet read. But I don't know if it's the end of the book or just a very long, convoluted chapter. The only thing to do is just keep reading. I always thought it was more about the story than the ending anyways.

And that is what it's like to live with a chronic disease.

Monday, November 11, 2013


Relationships. I think a lot of people have different definitions of this word, but they, for the most part, seem to gravitate towards a similar one. You meet someone, you hit it off, and you start dating. You don't do things with other people that would constitute as cheating, and you fall in love over a certain period of time. There seems to be a general consensus about how long people wait to say "I love you", and if things are moving too fast.
I think this is all bullshit. A relationship is just a communication between two people. Hell, you can have relationships with multiple people. I have a dynamic relationship with my band members. We function as a unit, and that communication changes if we are all together or one on one. A relationship is not an entity you can heal or kill, it's just how you are currently communicating with someone.
My mother asked me earlier this year if I ever planned on getting married. My response: I am never going to get married, until I get married. I have applied this philosophy to dating as well. I have been single for almost two years now, and I cannot express to you, dear reader, how eye opening it has been to NOT actively pursue a "relationship" with someone.
It seems like some people just look for a relationship with someone, anyone, and just try until it fails. That works for some people. That does not work for me anymore. It begat a cycle of ruin in me, and I haven't looked back since I discarded it. Personally, I decided that I have to get to know a person some before any kind of romantic interest can start. We have to be able to be friends. I cannot be with someone who just becomes "the Girlfriend", nor will I stand for someone referring to me as "the Boyfriend". It sinks in over time, and I feel like you hold this image of them in your mind, and stop watching them grow as a person. People drift apart, and then all of a sudden, they are in a relationship without communication. It's happened to me, and I see it happen all around me.
Now, this tactic of testing waters with friendship does tend to put people in the friendzone a lot, but I like having friends, so if it turns out we make great friends and the opportunity for more passes by, then so be it. It's a product of my system, and that's ok. Did I miss out on something? Maybe. But maybe I start dating someone, and miss out on an even greater opportunity because I am distracted. It doesn't matter. That's just worrying for no reason, and John don't play that.
I tend to trust my gut, and some of the worst times of my life have been when I didn't listen to my intuition. So here I sit, a romantic (despite the evidence), trusting my instincts for when the time and person are right. I forced myself to sift thru my subconscious these years and face things I had been keeping locked up. It's been a minefield of glorious revelations and oppressive depressions. It's hardened me in ways I needed and softened me in others. I am finally comfortable in my own skin. Do I wait for someone to come along and complete me? No. I work towards completing myself, and it's a bloody battle. But I know there's someone out there that will light me in a perfect way, so that my final product shines just that much better.
Do I plan on dating again? No, not until I'm dating again.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Gravity Eyelids Session

I have been running dry in the writing department lately (blame Cooper, that's HIS department), so I decided to take some inspiration from my favorite thing in the world, music. I took a song I had been listening to (ok listening isn't strong enough a word to describe what I have been doing to this song, I have been absorbing it) and I broke it down verse by verse and used each verse to key a paragraph. I wrote this after I had listened to this song a few times late the other night. And so, a short story came out of it, and it was as spontaneous as it was fun. I didn't know what I was writing until I looked at the next verse, and it definitely flavored the story. It may sound like shyte to you. But I think it's beautiful, and I hope that this story will convey beauty too. And, please, don't judge. I rarely write anything other than absurd comedy, and this all came out in a spontaneous string at 2am. If you want, listen to the song while you read this. It may help set the mood. Then again, it may not.

Gravity Eyelids - Porcupine Tree

She stood by the bus stop, a creature out of place. An ephemeral spirit passing thru the lives of mortal beings, with all their grime and sadness, untouched by it all. She stared at a point no one else could see, even though they dared not look for fear of attracting her attention. So intense were her eyes [open your eyes love]

that no one could look directly at her. It was as if she wasn't there, completing the illusion that she was just a tourist in our world. I stopped doing whatever mundane task I was absorbed in and cocked my head slightly, hearing a sound I had never heard before, and would never hear again [hear me out before I lose my mind]

I would call it singing, but that word is too worn for what I perceived. I forgot about my schedule, my cell phone, my boss asking an inane question from that phone I casually lowered to my side. I forgot about every petty thought I had floating in front of my eyes the moment before I heard that sound. She was singing, and no one around me seemed to notice; or they just tried to bury themselves in the bleakness around them. I stared, I listened, and I waited to hear the end of it. [I've been waiting for hours]

But it didn't stop. I realized that this was her normal state. She wasn't performing for me, she was just existing. Something snapped inside me. My face relaxed, all the tension flowing down to my feet, and holding there; holding my feet in place. I desperately wanted to move those feet and go to her, like an incidental siren. They would not move, and my frustration came out of my eyes, tears [let the salt flow, feel my coil unwind]

running down. I stood transfixed, both pleased to not be disrupting her and angry that I could not disrupt her. And then she blinked, and stopped her song, and two things happened simultaneously. My feet stumbled out of the roots that had held them in place, and she turned to me. All the sounds of the real world came crashing in on me, with the silence her song left hungering for something to end it. I had thought she had a smile on her face before, but then she looked at me and turned up one corner of her mouth [give me a smile please]

and showed me something real. Something so real that I doubted every other emotion anyone had tried to convey to me the same way. All the tension left me, my feet no longer leaded with doubt. And when her eyes looked into mine, all the outside world fell aside as if invisible hands pushed it aside. I did not hear, I did not see. Only her smile and unblinking eyes did I see; only the slowing rhythm of my heart did I hear [count the calm and watch me breathing slow]

Then she did an inexplicable thing. She pointed her toes at me with one foot, set it down, and moved closer to me. My slowing heart suddenly lurched into a different gear, beating wildly at the thought of her impending proximity. It raged and screamed, trying to jump out of me. And just when it seemed to border on pain, when my vision narrowed, she reached me and placed one hand on that spot where it would have left me, as if she was physically keeping it in. [winding me up tease]

And she did. My heart stopped its riot, content with her touch. She had a look on her face as if she understood her role as both the problem and the cure. I forgot all about decorum, forgot about thinking. My primal instinct took over, a form of fight or flight. I quickly grabbed her arm, afraid she might flinch from my touch, but more afraid she would leave suddenly if I did nothing. I couldn't be sure she wasn't making me do this [get inside my head and make it show]

I knew later that it was me. Some deep part of me knew what the outcome would be. We held that pose forever. As we went on and really got to know each other, realizing we already did, she never took her hand off my heart. And I never let go of her arm; never stopped letting her know that I wanted her to stay, to keep her hand there. I knew if she took it away, my heart would finish its escape and leave. The tension never returned. The roots never grasped my feet again. My heart never betrayed me again. My eyes trusted her enough to collapse the light into earth, sleeping better because the dream is real now. [gravity eyelids come down]

Monday, February 20, 2012

The Gods were definitely, definitely crazy.

Oh the Greeks. How I love them. I continually praise their tzatziki sauce for both its awesome spelling and amazing taste on gyros. Speaking of spelling, how cool are traditional Greek surnames? The answer is REALLY cool, or you are a Smith and just bitter. We STILL don't know exactly what the formula was for Greek fire. We just know it was ridiculously effective.

I could go on and on about what the Greeks did, but what I really wanted to type about are their Gods. Fickle, stupid, very human seeming gods. Gods of power, flash, and moxy! But mostly the former three attributes. It always made me wonder that our modern gods are so mysterious and flawless, and our ancient gods were so openly documented.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Living In the 80's, In the Future

I'm not referring to the 1980's. Why would I write about that? VH1 pretty much covered all the highlights. I'm talking about the year 2062. The future! [unless you are reading this sometime in or past 2062, in which case, you already know all this stuff, so quit listening to the holo-laser dictation and go spacesurfing or whatever] And also, coincidentally, the year I turn into an octogenarian.

You mean like one of those octopus doctors??
No, Cooper, like a person who has completed the not so trivial accomplishment of living up to and thru their 80th birthday! *Future hi five!* The only thing I am mad at my future self about is that they haven't tried to contact me via Time-Phone™ to tell me not to do the stupid things I am most definitely going to do. Altho... if I were me (which I am, sometimes), I would probably NOT tell my past self about any mistakes to be made, because 1) it is probably hilarious to watch, and 2) if I were to alter any of those formative events, I wouldn't turn out as awesome as I think I am going to turn out. Brain asplode yet? Good.

Okay, but time altering paradoxes aside, it is going to be sweet to be 80. I can't say I know what the future holds as far as technology is concerned, but I can promise it will be fun. At the rate scientists are inventing things based on science fiction movies, we should all have personal force fields and be kwisatz haderachs by 2062 (seriously, have we not figured out which spice is melange yet?). But barring all that, I am at least hoping for some awesome joint/limb replacement technology. Seriously, I am turning 30 in a week, and I have found myself enthralled by recent commercials [not sure how, I don't watch regular TV] about joint health and replacement surgeries. I once was resting myself in the water closet at a customers house, reading an article in a readily available magazine, thoroughly digging the information held within, and finished said article before realizing I was thumbing thru a copy of AARP. I would have cried some, but I think my tear ducts went before my knees.

People reading this article that are older than my current incarnation (in which i hope there are a lot of you, because young people are commonly too spastic these days to read a whole one of these), please don't think that I think that 30 is old, I don't. I am looking forward to leaving my nefarious and painful twenty's behind like that one crippled frontier child you agreed upon beforehand to leave behind in case of a swift and terrible Indian raid. I am poised to turn and give the beauty pageant wave to all the growing pains and gains (more the former than the latter) of my "learning years", ready to embark on what promises to be a glorious and inescapable future. What I am saying is that i FEEL old, like physically. Between missing parts in one knee, early onset arthritis, abused stereocilia [the hairs in your ear that allow you to hear a range of frequencies, and also an awesome band name (already taken)], and already having one rare form of bone spur removed from my now partially numb left arm before I hit college, I feel OLD.

So I look to the future with a hope that technology can keep up with the systematic degradation of this mortal vessel. Oh the wonders that shall befall us! Nano-machines that we will eat out of pudding cups that will stitch our bones and ligaments back together again? Instantly replicated replacement organs for victims of accidents? Flash animation tattoos? (Ok that one isn't medically relevant in any way, but damn if it wouldn't be cool) As the current generation grows up and takes over the sciences, they look at everything with eyes more open than their predecessors. They were raised on movies and shows with fantastical inventions and ideas. They think so far outside the modernly conceived idea of a box that it's safer to presume they live entirely outside this box, looking into it from time to time only to scoff at it's dimensions and limitations.

Technology is an exponentially growing thing, an entity that enraptures us as a civilization, and on which we have built our pillars upon. It can take us to great heights, or ultimately to our doom, as is subject in the incredible future-documentary The  Matrix. I will have to sift through these documentaries in search of more future information to divulge to you all. So until then, see you in the future! (except you, killer robots, we will be destroying and overcoming your tyrannous rule)

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Turkeys vs. Penguins: Ultimate Showdown

I have received a request for posts on each of these flightless dinosaurs birds, so my laziness ingenuity demands that I exposè both of them simultaneously. Their roots and lack of something that makes birds birds being as similar as they are only exacerbates the futility in taking the comparison any further.

Turkeys: Their transformation from wild and wily semi-flying woodland foul to mentally handicapped and frequently suicidal farm-pigeons is both fascinating and horrifying. I know that domesticated animals lose most of their wilder instincts, but the scale on which these tasty walkers change once they are tended by humans is ridiculous. The myth that turkeys will drown during a heavy rain is not true, but has a grain of truth stuck in it, much like the dressing during Turkeypocalypse. There are death related incidents involving turkeys and descending liquids, but it is instead because these farm turkeys lack the basic survival instinct to seek shelter during a storm, and thus die to the elements and exposure. Way to go.

Adding to the mess that is their gene sequence, some young turkeys won't catch on that they should eat food left out for them and sometimes die from starvation. Farmers do their best to make the food more attractive looking by garnishing it with bits of foil [no shit] or by dying the food green, to appeal to the young turkeys love of shiny things. And sometimes, this STILL doesn't work. They have officially lost my respect as a creature we should care about [not that i was leaning on that fence much] beyond their ability to make us a tasty meal as well as a sedative. I place them right up there with chickens [which apparently don't need heads to operate] and the only animal you can hunt with a hammer, cows.

So, please don't feel any remorse when you bite into your cooked farm-pidgeon this thursday, as apparently any semblance of a creature worth mourning the loss of has left the building.

Penguins: You've got to hand it to them [even tho they don't have hands], they know how to persevere. Harsh environment + inability to fly or do any kind of useful movements = tuxedo bird? Apparently. If i were the entire penguin species, I probably would have given up a long time ago. They have to hold their eggs with their feet?? Or they might die? Wtf is that?

I mean, they are some pretty bad-ass belly sliders upon, but coupled with elite swimming ability in an ocean where everything can eat you does not for an awesome creature make. I think God made them on a drunken bender along with duck-billed platypi and walrus', then decided they should at least entertain him and dressed them to the nines for all eternity. Plus, when you have a documentary done about you with Morgan Freeman as narrator, it can't all be bad.

If I were ever to complete my goal of being an awesome super villain, and I decided to have a base in penguin land, I would definitely train them and keep them as butlers. It would be best for them, and me! I could provide carpets to walk around upon, so if the dropped their eggs, they could just look around, shrug, and pick them back up all Pele style and go about their business. Ahh yes, life would be good....

Lesson learned in this post? If you are sans turkey this Thanksgiving holiday, penguin would not be an adequate substitute. They are way different!

John's Advice for the week: you can sit backwards on the toilet to use the tank as a desk/table/pillow to maximize your efficiency!

Friday, November 18, 2011

Maiden Voyage

Things have so many different meanings. The term "maiden voyage" stems from a ship on its first journey after being built, but when you really think it thru, it's nothing more than a giant sexual innuendo. What happens to the maiden after she has completed her first voyage? She is no maiden anymore. She is now an experienced sea-wench. So I guess what I am trying to convey is that this is my blog's first time having sex with your eyes, so..... be gentle. And remember, if my blog says no, it means NO!   [but really it means yes]

A-Hole In My Head: Possibly just that you need another blog to read like a person needs another hole in their head? [excluding awesome piercings] Or maybe it is a hole, or window, into my head, showing you all the disastrous awesome things that go on in there. Or maybe, just maybe, there's an asshole in my head that really wants to get to the outside world. Or maybe it's all of these things, and more! Maybe if you keep reading, something profound will happen. Possibly the answers to all societal problems lie within. Possibly it's all rubbish. [probably rubbish]

If the answers end up not being to your liking, then you always have the option to indulge in whatever liquor you fancy to effectively "flashy thingy" your memory back to a state in which you never read this blog. Go on, take a Mulligan, you deserve it! We know your brain cannot hold more information than your daily regimen of Reality TV and Pizza Pocket cooking instructions, so you may need to dump these last few minutes. [more for slow readers]

If you wish to carry on, then bravo! We will be discussing such exciting future topics as:
  • Penguins, are they really birds, or just well dressed ice monkeys?
  • War, what is it good for? [hint: business]
  • How cool it will be to be an octogenarian 2062
  • The decline of society in relation to the simplification of hats and other things
  • What the next fad is going to be after Planking and Owling [my vote is Sporking]
  • A Treatise on the expansion of carbon footprinting vs the ability of relevant technology to remain viably sustainable
  • Turkeys - why they drown when it rains and how that affects you
Sounds like fun! I can't wait to see what all those are about!
Until next time, I will leave you with this advice:
If you like to read comics or graphic novels, just go read them at the bookstore. Short enough to finish in one sitting without looking like a freeloader. If you don't care about looking like said freeloader, just read whole novels!