I’m on my way back from shopping the other day, I looked at the time and realized how late I was running. It didn’t help that it was 6pm and I hadn’t ate yet that day, so my blood sugar was around 60. When it gets to this point I don’t often think clearly and will sometimes act as if I’m a little drunk.
I was almost to my house when I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to go to the ATM. Instead of turning around on my street, I sped up thinking I would pull a U-turn at the end of the street. Dumb!!! I honestly wasn’t paying attention to my speed, but the Boys in Blue were...fuckers!! The second I saw him I knew I was busted and he wasn’t going to let me go with a warning...still I tried...never hurts to at least try. I’ve just never had any luck with getting just a warning.
I guess I deserved the ticket....he said I was doing 66 in a 35...maybe I was...I really don’t know. Anyway it’s going to cost me $230 fucking dollars to pay the son-of-bitch!!! I’ve yet to decide if I’m going to court or just pay the damn thing. I really don’t have the money...unless I steal it...guess I could do that....maybe...maybe not...but it’s a thought to keep from appearing before the court.
My car was searched after the officer said he smelled marijuana, but I think it was probably the zigzag papers he saw in my billfold when I was giving him my drivers license. I know I hadn’t smoked anything in the car, but it is my sons car, and although I don’t believe he smokes marijuana, most of his friends do. I was just hoping like hell that didn’t find a little stem ___ this long (fuck you RR) to charge me with.
I had an interesting conversation with the an officer while the other one searched my car. But I don’t think I’m going to talk about that...I think I said something’s I probably shouldn’t have...Again that’s what happens when my blood sugar is low...I talk too damn much.
By the time they were done searching the car and me, my blood sugar had rose enough on it’s own. I find this often happens when I’m under stress, my blood sugar naturally goes higher. Which sometimes sucks, when it goes to high.
Enough of this dumb shit...I’m going to get some SoCo and Lime and throw back a few shots tonight.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
How Long Will it Take Before the Rain Stops?
For those of you who want to know....I finally posted a couple new stories on my sex site. http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/ Enjoy!!
_________________________
On another note....I went to Tony's funeral yesterday. Only 3 of us left from the gang showed up, everyone else except for his wife and mom were total strangers. I felt like none of them knew the real Tony. Not anyway the Tony I spent days with, hidding from the law after we committed a crime, drunk off our asses, high as hell, talking about life for hours after we did all these things. He always talked about when he died he wanted Pink Floyd played at his funeral, but that didn't happen. It was more of a funeral for his Mom. At least he did get to be cremated like he always wanted to be.
Enough of this before I start crying. I haven't cried yet, and I don't think I want to, even though this breaks my heart for his family.
After the services I couldn't help but not think about how much time I could possible have left in my life. It can't be much more. I already feel like I wasn't suppose to live this long. This is why I don't go to chruch, because the preacher is always talking about life beyond this life and how it's just right around the corner waiting to creep up on you like a cop trying to bust you for drugs. Life could end at any breath. I guess I just don't like the ideal of waiting around wondering when my last breath will come.
Rest in peace my good friend, you will be forever missed.
This one is for you my friend...
_________________________
On another note....I went to Tony's funeral yesterday. Only 3 of us left from the gang showed up, everyone else except for his wife and mom were total strangers. I felt like none of them knew the real Tony. Not anyway the Tony I spent days with, hidding from the law after we committed a crime, drunk off our asses, high as hell, talking about life for hours after we did all these things. He always talked about when he died he wanted Pink Floyd played at his funeral, but that didn't happen. It was more of a funeral for his Mom. At least he did get to be cremated like he always wanted to be.
Enough of this before I start crying. I haven't cried yet, and I don't think I want to, even though this breaks my heart for his family.
After the services I couldn't help but not think about how much time I could possible have left in my life. It can't be much more. I already feel like I wasn't suppose to live this long. This is why I don't go to chruch, because the preacher is always talking about life beyond this life and how it's just right around the corner waiting to creep up on you like a cop trying to bust you for drugs. Life could end at any breath. I guess I just don't like the ideal of waiting around wondering when my last breath will come.
Rest in peace my good friend, you will be forever missed.
This one is for you my friend...
Friday, February 20, 2009
The Death of a Friend
I finally got the news that my friend, since 1984 died yesterday morning at the young age of 40. He left behind a loving wife, and two beautiful girls, that will forever be on my mind. His body is going to be cremated, which is what he always wanted to have done. I should find out Sunday when services will be held, but most likely it will be Monday or Tuesday evening. Right now his body is still in Kansas and arrangements haven’t been completed on how to bring him back across state line.
I hate funerals, especially when it’s one of the gang members I hung out with back then. There are 4 down now, (that I’m aware of) that didn’t make it to 41. I have to wonder what makes me so special that I get to live?
Gonna make this short...it’s Friday night and I’m going to have a few drinks or two or three. ....maybe more.
I hate funerals, especially when it’s one of the gang members I hung out with back then. There are 4 down now, (that I’m aware of) that didn’t make it to 41. I have to wonder what makes me so special that I get to live?
Gonna make this short...it’s Friday night and I’m going to have a few drinks or two or three. ....maybe more.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Hey, Is Anyone Up There?
Dear God,
What ever happened to people supposedly being equal in your all seeing eyes? I mean you could've warned me about the accident. You know, a simple "Look out T old friend," would've done the trick, and made me turn my head, just in time to make a neat side step out of harms way. But oh no, you didn't did you? Instead you let it happen to me. Probably stood by, just watching as things went from bad to worse.
Have you any idea how much pain I'm in? Do you even give a damn? You might understand how I have great doubts about you even being up there, and even further doubts about how I thought I’d found you to begin with.
So once again as I endure new levels of unwanted, pain, I grit my teeth, and ask myself once again, where are you? Yes you God, during my hour of greatest need? Is it all because you feel you have a more important agenda? A list of high priority cases, perhaps? And if this be so, then does this rightfully warrant your ignorance to my anguished cries? I mean let's face it God you've hardly ever answered a single prayer since that one time.
Perhaps indeed, my problems simply appear petty in the great scheme of things? Or is it simply a fact that my good karma credit has finally expired? Just tell me the cold hard truth. And God, I suppose that's why if I'd have had a choice as egg and sperm, I would never have asked to be been born into this world. But I guess that’s a little too late now.
Just no more bad shit! Please! You know God, I just wanted to find one person who understood. I'm still searching to this day.
To tell you the truth the only reason I've written to you, is so I could find at least one person who would stop my plan. So speak to me soon. Or else I might just be happy with wherever the devil may take me.
Trying Not to Hear What is Coming in so Loud
Today my emotions are all over the board. I’m going from being in a state of full blown mania, to a point of crashing down so low in the ground, that the best shovel in the world couldn’t help me dig my way out. The thing is, I knew it was coming, but I still couldn’t stop the wave. Memories from my fucked up past comes sweeping in like a F-5 tornado, swirling around, slamming pieces of debris in every direction. To calm myself, and maybe prevent more cutting, I’ve decided to return to writing again as a way to quiet my mind.
For those who do not wish to read about torture, cruel acts, or any other random acts of violence that my mind may think about in the next couple hours, then I suggest you leave this site.
I want revenge, plain and simple revenge.
My mind was obsessed with the possibilities of revenge.
I sat quietly alone in the car, looking in the direction of the place I knew he would have to appear...his job. It’s the easiest way to track a person. Find out where they work, then just follow them.
I finished smoking and flipped the remains out the window into the heavy breeze, spinning it around outside my car. I took notice of the rustling leaves that spiraled around in a circle near the curb. My eyes followed as a stray leaf broke free and wondered off in the direction of the police department. My eyes followed every twist and curve as it neared my target.
I could feel the blood rushing through my veins as the leaf came to a stop when an officer stepped outside. I smiled lightly, breathing in the essence of life that surrounded him, deep into my lungs.
I had been watching him for a long time, and fantasized many times about what I would do to him if I had the opportunity. I was looking at him like an object, not a life form like me, put a toy to be played with and used completely.
He was perfect with his short cut black hair, brown eyes, dimpled cheeks, and nice muscular built body. I was drawn towards him since the first day I saw him at the park. I felt it was fate that had brought us together and fate alone that would decide the outcome of our next meeting.
I watched him from Second and Broadway as he sat down in the his car and placed a seatbelt across his chest. I started my car as he began backing out, and then I watched him as he turned left at the light and drove right in front of me. I quickly dropped in behind him and began my pursuit, my body tingling with adrenaline.
I relentlessly followed behind him as he turned left on Main St and then right to W 2nd St. At the light he turned left to 97 going under the overpass and pulled into a Quik-Trip located on the corner in front of Wal-Mart. I followed behind him as he made his way inside. I could smell the sweet fragrance of his cologne as his body moved through the air directly in front of me. I inhaled it deeply, programming the smell permanently into my mind. We reached for a small drink cup at the same moment and our hands briefly touched, sending shock waves of adrenaline throughout my body. Was it destiny or fate?
It wasn’t until we were getting into our cars and backing out that he looked directly at me, locking eyes for a longer than usually glance. I could tell that he thought I looked familiar, but he just couldn’t quite figure out who I was at that moment. Fear that I had been caught before I was ready, sent me in the opposite direction.
The next day, I waited until his shift was almost over before I began my pursuit of following him to his home. I drove past as I watched him pull his police cruiser into his driveway. I continued on straight, looking into my rearview mirror as he stepped his huge 6’3” body out of the small confines of the drivers seat. I turned around on the next block and drove back in front of his house looking for one last glance or the opportunity to put my plan in motion.
I knew he was married for the second time, and had a couple kids, but they were nothing but a momentary thought. After all, in the end they would be okay and be able move on with their lives. She knew the risk of being with a police officer when she first began sneaking around with him while he was still married to his first wife.
It was several hours into darkness on late February eve, when I got up enough nerve to park my car just a couple hundred feet from his front door. I stepped outside, feeling the heartbeat of the earth beneath my feet. Power was flowing into me as I was drawn nearer to his essence, his life force. I could smell the coolness of the earth as I stood near a window and peered with contempt of danger. I smiled slowly as I stood near the window and reached out to run my fingertips lightly over the glassy surface. My fingertips tingled with the feeling of life under them, my body reacting to the powerful flow of adrenaline, I reached down the front of my jeans with my left hand and cupped my moist mound.
I could see him standing in the middle of the room, talking on the phone as I silently watched his lips moving to words I could not understand. His graceful movements subdue my own shaky nerves as I watch him remove his shirt. His stomach muscles were not taught but rather pudgy, as if he has enjoyed a few too many beers in his lifetime. I find it sexy for men around 40 to have this kind of look, and it sent shivers down my spine.
My left index finger separated my damp opening and began massaging in clockwise direction. I giggled lightly thinking about how I would look like a fool if someone were to pass by and see me standing there. At the moment I didn’t care, I was more into the fantasy of what I could be doing to his body after I forced him at gunpoint into the back seat of my SVU.
I would handcuff his wrists behind his back, (using his own set of cuffs of course), gag him with a thick washcloth, and then place a black hood over his face. I would then take my helpless, whimpering victim to a cabin deep in the woods, where no sound could be heard for miles.
Inside the cabin I pull off the hood and remove the gag from his mouth. After all, there is no need to fear anyone being able to hear the screams so far out in the country.
He looks around confused and disoriented, but quickly recovers and tries rushing his handcuffed body in my direction. I’m quickly able to knock him off his feet and send him falling to the floor with a loud thump.
I maneuver over his body and sit across his mid-section, “You’re fucked my friend!” I say with a little giggle. Then I slap him viciously across the face, leaving a dark red handprint across his right cheek. With a savage grin on my face, I begin punching him in the face, chest and belly, forcing him the wince in a little pain.
He was big and powerful, but my blows took some of the fight out of him. Keeping him handcuffed I cut free his shirt, pulled down his jeans, and then removed his boxers, leaving him fully exposed to my fists. I worked him over until my knuckles began to bleed and the blood from his face began to mix with mine.
When he beg me to stop, I stepped back and began to admire the nakedness of my victim. He looked luscious, with his limp cock laying to the side of his leg. I couldn’t stop myself from taking him fully into my mouth. Nature took over and after several minutes his cock began to grow. I wanted to jam his big cock deep down my throat, but first I wanted him to feel pain. There would be no more pleasure for him that day.
I walked across the old creaky floor and stood before my victim. I pulled a large hunting knife out and touched the tip to his chest.
“You will call me Tayla,” I whispered softly. “And you will treat people like me with respect from now on. Do you fucking understand?”
He nodded, and said he was sorry.
“You know I could easily kill you,” I said to him. “No one knows where we are.”
“No, please, no,” I have a family he pleaded.
“No - what - you pig? I said pressing the tip of the knife into his firm chest muscle near his heart.
His eyes opened wide at the sensation of the cold blade pressing into his flesh, bringing a small amount of blood oozing to the surface.
“I’m sorry Tayla. Please don’t kill me,” he begged.
“That’s it. Be a nice officer. Not some asshole cunt, that thinks he’s better than the rest of the world.”
“Okay Tayla, just take the knife away from my chest.”
I moved the knife away from his new wound, but held it firmly in my hand. “You don’t remember me, do you asshole?” I asked gripping the knife a little tighter in my hand.
“No Tayla, I don’t...”
“Of course you don’t,” I said placing the knife back against his skin. “Pretty little pigs like you look right past people like me. I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, or thin enough for you. You treat me as if I’m a nobody. A worthless piece of shit that should only be taken out back and shot. You think you’re too good to follow the same rules that I have to follow. I’m nothing to you but dirt under your fingernail that you can’t get rid of.”
I stuck the knife into his chest deep enough to make him let out a loud ear piercing scream. I continued to stare into his eyes at his pain, until his eyes locked with mine, then I had to look away. Even handcuffed, he had power over me, and I wanted to take that power away from him.
“You’re nothing but a fucking piece of shit, you asshole,” I screamed at him and began slamming my fist into his body. While he shrieked in agony, I thought about taking the knife and driving it deep into his belly and splitting him open. “I want you to remember me, and everything that has happened today, so that you will never forget what trauma does to a person. They are never normal again. You can’t just forget and move on. Every time you think you’re okay, someone could be lurking around some corner ready to do you harm. It never fucking goes away!!" I screamed loudly.
I took a deep breathe and looked long into his eyes. I knew I didn't want to kill him, but I did want him to feel pain. I put my hands around his neck and began squeezing him enough that it was uncomfortable. I leaned down and whispered into his ear, "I’m not going to kill you this time, but I’ll be watching you."
My thoughts were running wild as I stood rubbing my wet cunt outside his house, thinking about my fantasy to kidnap the officer. I wanted to watch him struggle to breathe. The thought sent me over the edge and my insides began to erupt. Hot warm juices began to flow. I pulled out my fingers and licked the sweetness from my fingertips. I was out of breath, but returning to sanity when lights from a car turned down the street.
The coolness of the night air felt like ocean waves caressing my body. I felt alive! I quickly retreated to my car, and continue my quest to find another officer to kidnap for my ultimate fantasy.
For those who do not wish to read about torture, cruel acts, or any other random acts of violence that my mind may think about in the next couple hours, then I suggest you leave this site.
I want revenge, plain and simple revenge.
My mind was obsessed with the possibilities of revenge.
I sat quietly alone in the car, looking in the direction of the place I knew he would have to appear...his job. It’s the easiest way to track a person. Find out where they work, then just follow them.
I finished smoking and flipped the remains out the window into the heavy breeze, spinning it around outside my car. I took notice of the rustling leaves that spiraled around in a circle near the curb. My eyes followed as a stray leaf broke free and wondered off in the direction of the police department. My eyes followed every twist and curve as it neared my target.
I could feel the blood rushing through my veins as the leaf came to a stop when an officer stepped outside. I smiled lightly, breathing in the essence of life that surrounded him, deep into my lungs.
I had been watching him for a long time, and fantasized many times about what I would do to him if I had the opportunity. I was looking at him like an object, not a life form like me, put a toy to be played with and used completely.
He was perfect with his short cut black hair, brown eyes, dimpled cheeks, and nice muscular built body. I was drawn towards him since the first day I saw him at the park. I felt it was fate that had brought us together and fate alone that would decide the outcome of our next meeting.
I watched him from Second and Broadway as he sat down in the his car and placed a seatbelt across his chest. I started my car as he began backing out, and then I watched him as he turned left at the light and drove right in front of me. I quickly dropped in behind him and began my pursuit, my body tingling with adrenaline.
I relentlessly followed behind him as he turned left on Main St and then right to W 2nd St. At the light he turned left to 97 going under the overpass and pulled into a Quik-Trip located on the corner in front of Wal-Mart. I followed behind him as he made his way inside. I could smell the sweet fragrance of his cologne as his body moved through the air directly in front of me. I inhaled it deeply, programming the smell permanently into my mind. We reached for a small drink cup at the same moment and our hands briefly touched, sending shock waves of adrenaline throughout my body. Was it destiny or fate?
It wasn’t until we were getting into our cars and backing out that he looked directly at me, locking eyes for a longer than usually glance. I could tell that he thought I looked familiar, but he just couldn’t quite figure out who I was at that moment. Fear that I had been caught before I was ready, sent me in the opposite direction.
The next day, I waited until his shift was almost over before I began my pursuit of following him to his home. I drove past as I watched him pull his police cruiser into his driveway. I continued on straight, looking into my rearview mirror as he stepped his huge 6’3” body out of the small confines of the drivers seat. I turned around on the next block and drove back in front of his house looking for one last glance or the opportunity to put my plan in motion.
I knew he was married for the second time, and had a couple kids, but they were nothing but a momentary thought. After all, in the end they would be okay and be able move on with their lives. She knew the risk of being with a police officer when she first began sneaking around with him while he was still married to his first wife.
It was several hours into darkness on late February eve, when I got up enough nerve to park my car just a couple hundred feet from his front door. I stepped outside, feeling the heartbeat of the earth beneath my feet. Power was flowing into me as I was drawn nearer to his essence, his life force. I could smell the coolness of the earth as I stood near a window and peered with contempt of danger. I smiled slowly as I stood near the window and reached out to run my fingertips lightly over the glassy surface. My fingertips tingled with the feeling of life under them, my body reacting to the powerful flow of adrenaline, I reached down the front of my jeans with my left hand and cupped my moist mound.
I could see him standing in the middle of the room, talking on the phone as I silently watched his lips moving to words I could not understand. His graceful movements subdue my own shaky nerves as I watch him remove his shirt. His stomach muscles were not taught but rather pudgy, as if he has enjoyed a few too many beers in his lifetime. I find it sexy for men around 40 to have this kind of look, and it sent shivers down my spine.
My left index finger separated my damp opening and began massaging in clockwise direction. I giggled lightly thinking about how I would look like a fool if someone were to pass by and see me standing there. At the moment I didn’t care, I was more into the fantasy of what I could be doing to his body after I forced him at gunpoint into the back seat of my SVU.
I would handcuff his wrists behind his back, (using his own set of cuffs of course), gag him with a thick washcloth, and then place a black hood over his face. I would then take my helpless, whimpering victim to a cabin deep in the woods, where no sound could be heard for miles.
Inside the cabin I pull off the hood and remove the gag from his mouth. After all, there is no need to fear anyone being able to hear the screams so far out in the country.
He looks around confused and disoriented, but quickly recovers and tries rushing his handcuffed body in my direction. I’m quickly able to knock him off his feet and send him falling to the floor with a loud thump.
I maneuver over his body and sit across his mid-section, “You’re fucked my friend!” I say with a little giggle. Then I slap him viciously across the face, leaving a dark red handprint across his right cheek. With a savage grin on my face, I begin punching him in the face, chest and belly, forcing him the wince in a little pain.
He was big and powerful, but my blows took some of the fight out of him. Keeping him handcuffed I cut free his shirt, pulled down his jeans, and then removed his boxers, leaving him fully exposed to my fists. I worked him over until my knuckles began to bleed and the blood from his face began to mix with mine.
When he beg me to stop, I stepped back and began to admire the nakedness of my victim. He looked luscious, with his limp cock laying to the side of his leg. I couldn’t stop myself from taking him fully into my mouth. Nature took over and after several minutes his cock began to grow. I wanted to jam his big cock deep down my throat, but first I wanted him to feel pain. There would be no more pleasure for him that day.
I walked across the old creaky floor and stood before my victim. I pulled a large hunting knife out and touched the tip to his chest.
“You will call me Tayla,” I whispered softly. “And you will treat people like me with respect from now on. Do you fucking understand?”
He nodded, and said he was sorry.
“You know I could easily kill you,” I said to him. “No one knows where we are.”
“No, please, no,” I have a family he pleaded.
“No - what - you pig? I said pressing the tip of the knife into his firm chest muscle near his heart.
His eyes opened wide at the sensation of the cold blade pressing into his flesh, bringing a small amount of blood oozing to the surface.
“I’m sorry Tayla. Please don’t kill me,” he begged.
“That’s it. Be a nice officer. Not some asshole cunt, that thinks he’s better than the rest of the world.”
“Okay Tayla, just take the knife away from my chest.”
I moved the knife away from his new wound, but held it firmly in my hand. “You don’t remember me, do you asshole?” I asked gripping the knife a little tighter in my hand.
“No Tayla, I don’t...”
“Of course you don’t,” I said placing the knife back against his skin. “Pretty little pigs like you look right past people like me. I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, or thin enough for you. You treat me as if I’m a nobody. A worthless piece of shit that should only be taken out back and shot. You think you’re too good to follow the same rules that I have to follow. I’m nothing to you but dirt under your fingernail that you can’t get rid of.”
I stuck the knife into his chest deep enough to make him let out a loud ear piercing scream. I continued to stare into his eyes at his pain, until his eyes locked with mine, then I had to look away. Even handcuffed, he had power over me, and I wanted to take that power away from him.
“You’re nothing but a fucking piece of shit, you asshole,” I screamed at him and began slamming my fist into his body. While he shrieked in agony, I thought about taking the knife and driving it deep into his belly and splitting him open. “I want you to remember me, and everything that has happened today, so that you will never forget what trauma does to a person. They are never normal again. You can’t just forget and move on. Every time you think you’re okay, someone could be lurking around some corner ready to do you harm. It never fucking goes away!!" I screamed loudly.
I took a deep breathe and looked long into his eyes. I knew I didn't want to kill him, but I did want him to feel pain. I put my hands around his neck and began squeezing him enough that it was uncomfortable. I leaned down and whispered into his ear, "I’m not going to kill you this time, but I’ll be watching you."
My thoughts were running wild as I stood rubbing my wet cunt outside his house, thinking about my fantasy to kidnap the officer. I wanted to watch him struggle to breathe. The thought sent me over the edge and my insides began to erupt. Hot warm juices began to flow. I pulled out my fingers and licked the sweetness from my fingertips. I was out of breath, but returning to sanity when lights from a car turned down the street.
The coolness of the night air felt like ocean waves caressing my body. I felt alive! I quickly retreated to my car, and continue my quest to find another officer to kidnap for my ultimate fantasy.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Tomorrow A Good Friend Will Die
I’m drowning in my own pool of blood.
I see a razor sitting on the edge of the sink.
My mind goes into a spiral as I begin to think.
Maybe just one cut to ease the pain.
I promise to myself not to hit a vein.
I’m finally alone with my thoughts, and I find they are running around in several directions, but still running back to one thought. Will a friend, of 25 years, get a miracle tomorrow, or will he be taking his last breath? I fear that it will be the later. He has had no movement since he had a brain aneurysm back when we had the ice storm around January 27.
His wife called to let me know that he was suddenly dizzy, had blurred vision, and a intense headache. So they rushed him to the ER in Bartlesville, where they determined he needed to be life-flighted, but because of the severe ice storm in the area, the chopter couldn’t fly. Insted, he was rushed by ambulance to the only hospital that could handle the golf ball size bulging in his brain, which was in Wichita, Kansas. The trip took over an hour, allowing the aneurysm to grow to the size of a baseball. He never had a chance, even after the surgery.
I did a little research online and found out that a unbelievable one in 15 people in the US will develop a brain aneurysm during their lifetime. Many will die on the way to the hospital, and over 50 percent will die within the first thirty days after rupture. Those who do survive, about half suffer some permanent damage. This scares the hell out of me.
I can’t help but think it could possible be my turn, and I don‘t want that outcome for my life. I want to go out on my own terms...not some random hand from God’s sky, reaching down and taking my last breath without warning. I had been at his house just two weeks before, after he had begged me to come by and visit him. I felt obligated to go since I hadn’t been to see him and his family in two years or more. I wonder if he knew somehow? If he felt it coming and wanted to get together one last time?
Whatever led me to finally going, I’m glad I went. I got to see him with his dream. The one that Tony always wanted...to have a family of his own. He has two beautiful daughters, one typical 14-year-old from his wife’s first marriage, and a 9-year-old dark hair, brown eyed little girl, that looks so much like him. He was happy, even though they didn’t have much. I could tell when I visited that they all loved him very much. It was strange seeing them call him Daddy, but that’s what he was to them, no matter what kind of life he had lived in the past, he was their loving Daddy.
He was one of the gang members I hung around with, did drugs with, went to jail with ..more than once. He was two years younger than me!! And his life will probably be over in just a few more hours. He hasn’t woke up or responded at all to those around him. His wife said she was going to let the girls spend the weekend saying goodbye, and Monday morning they were removing his life support.
It’s after 2 am and I should get some sleep before the call comes. I hate those kind of calls. The older I get, the more frequently I receive the late night, or early morning calls. You never get use to them, and sometimes I just don’t know what to say to the person on the other end of the line. I wonder what people will say when my turn comes? ...Surprised that it hadn’t happened before now? I’ve lived a hard life, and like Tony, I feel I’m in the last Chapter of my book...the end is near.
I don't think I want to be here for the call...I may spend the day in Sand Springs driving around in little circles. Anything to ease the pain.
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
I see a razor sitting on the edge of the sink.
My mind goes into a spiral as I begin to think.
Maybe just one cut to ease the pain.
I promise to myself not to hit a vein.
I’m finally alone with my thoughts, and I find they are running around in several directions, but still running back to one thought. Will a friend, of 25 years, get a miracle tomorrow, or will he be taking his last breath? I fear that it will be the later. He has had no movement since he had a brain aneurysm back when we had the ice storm around January 27.
His wife called to let me know that he was suddenly dizzy, had blurred vision, and a intense headache. So they rushed him to the ER in Bartlesville, where they determined he needed to be life-flighted, but because of the severe ice storm in the area, the chopter couldn’t fly. Insted, he was rushed by ambulance to the only hospital that could handle the golf ball size bulging in his brain, which was in Wichita, Kansas. The trip took over an hour, allowing the aneurysm to grow to the size of a baseball. He never had a chance, even after the surgery.
I did a little research online and found out that a unbelievable one in 15 people in the US will develop a brain aneurysm during their lifetime. Many will die on the way to the hospital, and over 50 percent will die within the first thirty days after rupture. Those who do survive, about half suffer some permanent damage. This scares the hell out of me.
I can’t help but think it could possible be my turn, and I don‘t want that outcome for my life. I want to go out on my own terms...not some random hand from God’s sky, reaching down and taking my last breath without warning. I had been at his house just two weeks before, after he had begged me to come by and visit him. I felt obligated to go since I hadn’t been to see him and his family in two years or more. I wonder if he knew somehow? If he felt it coming and wanted to get together one last time?
Whatever led me to finally going, I’m glad I went. I got to see him with his dream. The one that Tony always wanted...to have a family of his own. He has two beautiful daughters, one typical 14-year-old from his wife’s first marriage, and a 9-year-old dark hair, brown eyed little girl, that looks so much like him. He was happy, even though they didn’t have much. I could tell when I visited that they all loved him very much. It was strange seeing them call him Daddy, but that’s what he was to them, no matter what kind of life he had lived in the past, he was their loving Daddy.
He was one of the gang members I hung around with, did drugs with, went to jail with ..more than once. He was two years younger than me!! And his life will probably be over in just a few more hours. He hasn’t woke up or responded at all to those around him. His wife said she was going to let the girls spend the weekend saying goodbye, and Monday morning they were removing his life support.
It’s after 2 am and I should get some sleep before the call comes. I hate those kind of calls. The older I get, the more frequently I receive the late night, or early morning calls. You never get use to them, and sometimes I just don’t know what to say to the person on the other end of the line. I wonder what people will say when my turn comes? ...Surprised that it hadn’t happened before now? I’ve lived a hard life, and like Tony, I feel I’m in the last Chapter of my book...the end is near.
I don't think I want to be here for the call...I may spend the day in Sand Springs driving around in little circles. Anything to ease the pain.
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Suicide
I am stumbling,
struggling,
desperately trying not to fall,
but inside I'm crumbling,
wishing I could end it all...
I'm trying not to break apart
because of this ache in my battered heart,
trying so hard not to slip,
but I am losing my grip...
The chronic tears I am crying,
I can't stand being a prisoner to this pain,
my scarred soul is dying,
and out comes the razor to punish again...
I'm trying to hold on tight,
but I am losing my will to fight,
fading with the light,
dying with all my might...
I am just so broken,
in such horrible disrepair,
in these words I have spoken,
my utter despair...
I am trying not to lose sight,
of the last bit of life's light,
but I'm losing it tonight,
I am so far from being alright....
I'm dying so quickly inside,
I can't stop thinking suicide...
struggling,
desperately trying not to fall,
but inside I'm crumbling,
wishing I could end it all...
I'm trying not to break apart
because of this ache in my battered heart,
trying so hard not to slip,
but I am losing my grip...
The chronic tears I am crying,
I can't stand being a prisoner to this pain,
my scarred soul is dying,
and out comes the razor to punish again...
I'm trying to hold on tight,
but I am losing my will to fight,
fading with the light,
dying with all my might...
I am just so broken,
in such horrible disrepair,
in these words I have spoken,
my utter despair...
I am trying not to lose sight,
of the last bit of life's light,
but I'm losing it tonight,
I am so far from being alright....
I'm dying so quickly inside,
I can't stop thinking suicide...
Friday, February 13, 2009
Death Angel
I once knew a lady named
Misery
she lived in a damaged world
she calls to me in transparent dreams
a lonely star
outside
the closed universe
she was my twisted soul
long ago
she experienced
the darkest of
pain
beauty was something
she could not
believe
I once knew an angel named
Evil
she traveled like a
ghost into the shadows
her heart was dying for some form of
life
all seems balanced
now
the angel burns to
die
Misery
she lived in a damaged world
she calls to me in transparent dreams
a lonely star
outside
the closed universe
she was my twisted soul
long ago
she experienced
the darkest of
pain
beauty was something
she could not
believe
I once knew an angel named
Evil
she traveled like a
ghost into the shadows
her heart was dying for some form of
life
all seems balanced
now
the angel burns to
die
Thursday, February 12, 2009
I'm fine...Its Everyone Else Who Is Insane
Thoughts of violence, chaos, confusion
Batter my brain, a constant intrusion.
I'm told I'm sick,
Who's opinion.......yours?
I've been labeled...by a doctor, of course.
Shit, I'll just consider the source.
They say, "Take the pills, they will make you sane."
I don’t understand what’s wrong with feeling pain.
The anger is building, this whole thing sucks.
I try to tell people, but I can tell they doesn’t really give a fuck.
Back on the street, alone once more
They've turned me into a medication whore.
Voices in my head beginning to grow.
What to do next? I don't know.
They say there's no cure, I may not get better.
I‘m just sick of my pillow getter wetter.
If I scream or jump or try to do myself in,
I get a police ride to the loony bin.
If you have an answer, tell me please,
Or this could be the end of me.
Batter my brain, a constant intrusion.
I'm told I'm sick,
Who's opinion.......yours?
I've been labeled...by a doctor, of course.
Shit, I'll just consider the source.
They say, "Take the pills, they will make you sane."
I don’t understand what’s wrong with feeling pain.
The anger is building, this whole thing sucks.
I try to tell people, but I can tell they doesn’t really give a fuck.
Back on the street, alone once more
They've turned me into a medication whore.
Voices in my head beginning to grow.
What to do next? I don't know.
They say there's no cure, I may not get better.
I‘m just sick of my pillow getter wetter.
If I scream or jump or try to do myself in,
I get a police ride to the loony bin.
If you have an answer, tell me please,
Or this could be the end of me.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
My Covert Activities
OMG!! Guess people were right...I’m a fucking stalker...damn!!...one more fucking disorder to deal with. I think it maybe my OCD mixed with a little wicked depression that’s making me do some of the dumb-ass shit that I’ve been doing for the past couple weeks. I hope writing again will keep me from obsessing and ruminating so much.
One of the things that helps to clear my mind is driving, but I really can’t do a lot of driving around my town, because of law enforcement who know me. They see me doing my obsessive driving and they think I’m MUST be committing some sort of crime. BUT I”M NOT!!! I’m just running around in circles like a insane dog trying to catch it’s tail.
I’m not completely sure why I do it, but I love watching people. Since, I can’t do this in my hometown, I find myself spending more and more time in another town...watching, following, spying on people through some high-end night vision super-stalker 3000 binoculars. I like following people from work, to gas stations, to grocery stores, to their friends house, drive back in forth in front of their house a thousand time, watching...The possibilities are endless!!
My OCD means that ANYTHING I do, or have an interest in, I become OBSESSED with it until my brain shifts in another direction. Which some obsession of mine can sometimes takes weeks , months, or even years before they halt completely. Sometimes I can force my obsessive mind to stop this, by getting a heavy dose of adrenaline.
Yesterday, while I sat in my car, watching law enforcement come and go from their police station, I began to ponder what it would be like to follow one of them around and just observe their activities. After thinking long about the possibilities, I began getting a short rush, so I randomly picked out an officer leaving the PD and I followed them for several blocks. I followed behind one officer until I was able to get close enough to see it was a female officer. I continued to follow her for several blocks, and then managed to get in front of her. Eventually she turned down a road to a boys detention center, and I kept going straight.
The rush was gone, so I decided to find another officer to follow and turned back around and went back the same direction I had came from. At a light, I saw another officer pulling someone over, so I quickly got in the turn lane and went to observe what was happening. By the time the light had changed the female officer that I had followed early was in line 2 cars behind me, which gave me a little rush. But it also changed my plans of observing the other officer, because instead of pulling over and helping one of her buddies, she followed me. Adrenaline is beginning to surge.
I’m a little scared when I noticed she was checking me out pretty hard, so I quickly pulled into Wal-Mart and look for a parking place. I see her right behind and my adrenaline peaks. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I feel alive. Normal. I park and go inside for a little shopping as I watch her sitting one lane over talking on her radio.
When I came out the storms had moved into the area and cleaned the air. It felt wonderful outside and so did I. The problem I’m facing now, is wanting, obsessing about returning tomorrow morning for another visit.(DAMN it I know I'm going to!!) I don’t want to get into trouble with law enforcement, I just need the adrenaline to feel normal, and this is what’s working this time. So, I’m sorry guys (LEO), I mean no harm. If you see someone in your rear view mirror that looks like they are stalking you, you maybe right, but remember you wear a badge, gun, and probably a taser, so you’ll be alright.
One of the things that helps to clear my mind is driving, but I really can’t do a lot of driving around my town, because of law enforcement who know me. They see me doing my obsessive driving and they think I’m MUST be committing some sort of crime. BUT I”M NOT!!! I’m just running around in circles like a insane dog trying to catch it’s tail.
I’m not completely sure why I do it, but I love watching people. Since, I can’t do this in my hometown, I find myself spending more and more time in another town...watching, following, spying on people through some high-end night vision super-stalker 3000 binoculars. I like following people from work, to gas stations, to grocery stores, to their friends house, drive back in forth in front of their house a thousand time, watching...The possibilities are endless!!
My OCD means that ANYTHING I do, or have an interest in, I become OBSESSED with it until my brain shifts in another direction. Which some obsession of mine can sometimes takes weeks , months, or even years before they halt completely. Sometimes I can force my obsessive mind to stop this, by getting a heavy dose of adrenaline.
Yesterday, while I sat in my car, watching law enforcement come and go from their police station, I began to ponder what it would be like to follow one of them around and just observe their activities. After thinking long about the possibilities, I began getting a short rush, so I randomly picked out an officer leaving the PD and I followed them for several blocks. I followed behind one officer until I was able to get close enough to see it was a female officer. I continued to follow her for several blocks, and then managed to get in front of her. Eventually she turned down a road to a boys detention center, and I kept going straight.
The rush was gone, so I decided to find another officer to follow and turned back around and went back the same direction I had came from. At a light, I saw another officer pulling someone over, so I quickly got in the turn lane and went to observe what was happening. By the time the light had changed the female officer that I had followed early was in line 2 cars behind me, which gave me a little rush. But it also changed my plans of observing the other officer, because instead of pulling over and helping one of her buddies, she followed me. Adrenaline is beginning to surge.
I’m a little scared when I noticed she was checking me out pretty hard, so I quickly pulled into Wal-Mart and look for a parking place. I see her right behind and my adrenaline peaks. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I feel alive. Normal. I park and go inside for a little shopping as I watch her sitting one lane over talking on her radio.
When I came out the storms had moved into the area and cleaned the air. It felt wonderful outside and so did I. The problem I’m facing now, is wanting, obsessing about returning tomorrow morning for another visit.(DAMN it I know I'm going to!!) I don’t want to get into trouble with law enforcement, I just need the adrenaline to feel normal, and this is what’s working this time. So, I’m sorry guys (LEO), I mean no harm. If you see someone in your rear view mirror that looks like they are stalking you, you maybe right, but remember you wear a badge, gun, and probably a taser, so you’ll be alright.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Darkness Yells
Darkness Yells
Streetlight shadows
Pounding on my back
Until my inner conflict
has been resolved.
Waking with a feeling that I missed everything.
Shrugging off its timeless weight.
Closets without handles.
Smells like a rotting animal.
It was like inhaling bubbling hot lead.
My life in time
Will seal shut like a scar.
Streetlight shadows
Pounding on my back
Until my inner conflict
has been resolved.
Waking with a feeling that I missed everything.
Shrugging off its timeless weight.
Closets without handles.
Smells like a rotting animal.
It was like inhaling bubbling hot lead.
My life in time
Will seal shut like a scar.
Glorious Day
Glorious Day
I had a late night of crying
Only thinking about dieing.
For hours all I could do was weep.
But then I had a good nights sleep.
No barking dogs or interruption.
No new housing construction.
Had a hot cup of de-caf Joe.
Gonna take the day real slow.
Took a steaming hot shower
Then got dressed, taking well over an hour.
Lookin good with my new shoes on my feet.
My make-up even looks sweet.
Satisfied with what I’d done
It was time to have some fun.
Called up my good friend Jen
And of course she was down to sin.
She brought the chronic
Now we’re feeling bionic.
So, today is a glorious day.
No suicidal thoughts
Or cuts to my wrist.
No burning scars,
Or feeling like I’m living on Mars.
The whole day went by
without me thinking about ways to die.
No suicide by cop,
No gun to my head,
No wishing I were dead.
Went to the store and found a good deal,
So I didn’t have to steal.
Didn’t feel abused or over used.
Didn’t have to cuss anybody out
Had no feeling of doubt.
Stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of brew,
Where we picked up another member of our crew.
Rolling through town, I ran through an intersection
But the cops didn’t even look in my direction.
With my friends in the car
I was feeling like a star.
My mind fully drenched
The memories of the past temporarily quenched.
Stopped off the picked up 3 guys,
I got the one with big blue eyes.
They followed up back to Jen’s house,
Where everything worked out.
It made my strong heart weak
When he placed a little kiss on my cheek.
Dammed for an eternity of sin
I let a little dribble down my chin.
Today was like a dream
Eating good tasting diet ice cream.
So, today is a glorious day.
No suicidal thoughts
Or cuts to my wrist.
No burning scars,
Or feeling like I’m living on Mars.
The whole day went by
without me thinking about ways to die.
No suicide by cop,
No gun to my head,
No wishing I were dead.
All day fighting against the notion
Of feeling the cold metallic motion.
Adrenaline flowing,
I had to keep going.
Staying awake by driving down well-known streets,
The native air is pure and sweet.
It’s past 3 in the morning,
And I should be home snoring.
All alone back at my place
I laid on my bed and stared off into space.
Heavy eyelids drooping low
For the day I had let my past go.
Far from the ocean and streams
My mind is swept into the land of dreams.
So, today is a glorious day.
No suicidal thoughts
Or cuts to my wrist.
No burning scars,
Or feeling like I’m living on Mars.
The whole day went by
without me thinking about ways to die.
No suicide by cop,
No gun to my head,
No wishing I were dead.
I had a late night of crying
Only thinking about dieing.
For hours all I could do was weep.
But then I had a good nights sleep.
No barking dogs or interruption.
No new housing construction.
Had a hot cup of de-caf Joe.
Gonna take the day real slow.
Took a steaming hot shower
Then got dressed, taking well over an hour.
Lookin good with my new shoes on my feet.
My make-up even looks sweet.
Satisfied with what I’d done
It was time to have some fun.
Called up my good friend Jen
And of course she was down to sin.
She brought the chronic
Now we’re feeling bionic.
So, today is a glorious day.
No suicidal thoughts
Or cuts to my wrist.
No burning scars,
Or feeling like I’m living on Mars.
The whole day went by
without me thinking about ways to die.
No suicide by cop,
No gun to my head,
No wishing I were dead.
Went to the store and found a good deal,
So I didn’t have to steal.
Didn’t feel abused or over used.
Didn’t have to cuss anybody out
Had no feeling of doubt.
Stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of brew,
Where we picked up another member of our crew.
Rolling through town, I ran through an intersection
But the cops didn’t even look in my direction.
With my friends in the car
I was feeling like a star.
My mind fully drenched
The memories of the past temporarily quenched.
Stopped off the picked up 3 guys,
I got the one with big blue eyes.
They followed up back to Jen’s house,
Where everything worked out.
It made my strong heart weak
When he placed a little kiss on my cheek.
Dammed for an eternity of sin
I let a little dribble down my chin.
Today was like a dream
Eating good tasting diet ice cream.
So, today is a glorious day.
No suicidal thoughts
Or cuts to my wrist.
No burning scars,
Or feeling like I’m living on Mars.
The whole day went by
without me thinking about ways to die.
No suicide by cop,
No gun to my head,
No wishing I were dead.
All day fighting against the notion
Of feeling the cold metallic motion.
Adrenaline flowing,
I had to keep going.
Staying awake by driving down well-known streets,
The native air is pure and sweet.
It’s past 3 in the morning,
And I should be home snoring.
All alone back at my place
I laid on my bed and stared off into space.
Heavy eyelids drooping low
For the day I had let my past go.
Far from the ocean and streams
My mind is swept into the land of dreams.
So, today is a glorious day.
No suicidal thoughts
Or cuts to my wrist.
No burning scars,
Or feeling like I’m living on Mars.
The whole day went by
without me thinking about ways to die.
No suicide by cop,
No gun to my head,
No wishing I were dead.
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