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About Me

Mod Notes

  1. Well ,it looks like my hand may be pushed faster then I think . I heard a rumour ,yes ,you have to love the rumour mill that our new building is going to be condemned . I had to talk to my boss today and yesterday she told me we plan to re-start in 2 weeks and today she tells me we don’t know what we’re doing yet . So obviously the rumour mill is true . Thank Jesus I applied for unemployment ! A friend added me to all the Facebook child care sites and buy and sells. Unfortunately, my boss is on all the childcare sites . She’s going to know my plan eventually .
  2. I hope in this journal people learn to understand people with autism. " In a box, not a bottle" is a private joke between me and my son. It is how we describe his experience with Asperger's . link removed
  3. Dear Catherine Angelina Marie, You were a miracle to have been conceived at all and I am so blessed to have been your mother. I know it maybe be silly to some that you have been named and that I would make a journal for you. I may have only known about your existence for about a week but you were still every bit my child and I love you. I have no idea if you were a son or a daughter but I have named you a girl. I am happy you have the company of your other siblings in heaven. You can be sure mommy thinks of you and loves you.
  4. I decided to start this as a place to park my hodgepodge of thoughts and what's going on in my life. Had a great Easter yesterday- I had to drive a few hours to the airport to pick my son up from his trip to France and Spain. He had a great time and it seems like he grew up over night! It was so great to have both boys home and with me. Since I had them for Easter, I asked them what kind of meal they wanted and I went and bought the groceries for a nice Easter dinner. Then I get a text from my ex, saying his mom and dad are inviting me and the boys to Easter brunch at their house. Well I didn't really want to go because my ex and his gf would be there. But the boys wanted to go and they wanted me to come. So I told them I would drop them off, pop in to say hi to friends and ex's family, then pick them up later. It took a lot of courage. But Despite that, I actually had fun! My ex and his gf sat on the other side of the room, although at one point his gf complemented a necklace I was wearing. It was fun to catch up with people I essentially have not seen in 4 years since the breakup. Oh the things I do for my sons... Well afterwards I made that nice dinner and we had it by candle light- just before I had to take them to their dad's for the week.
  5. I’ve not been very good at journaling this year! I’ve been dating someone for almost a year - we met last December. I do wonder if we’ll make it into the new year due to a few issues. He’s a single dad, first one I’ve ever dated, and I’ve spent a bit of time with his son but he has behavioural issues at home so not sure how I would handle this if I become step-mum. There’s also the topic of if I want my own child - I’m still not made up and honestly I don’t think he wants another one. He (my boyfriend) is currently living with his dad saving money and helping out (dad is registered disabled but mobile for short periods). The dad is also going deaf and I don’t click with his sense of humour so I find any time visiting really testing trying to hold a normal conversation with him. I also have been living with my parents while I look for a full time job and now appreciate how much space they give me and boyf when he visits! I have one close friend in this town who I have known since school - and she’s been driving me nuts lately. I think we’ve grown apart and don’t relate on the same level anymore. I even hate texting her to organise anything - all I get are “ok” as responses and that on it’s own does my head in! And on the subject of work - I had two part time jobs in this town but one has now finished due to being a fixed term contract on a small team. The idea was to use that as a CV filler to move onto something else but I’ve been lazy of late applying to jobs. On the plus side I have noticed more ‘interesting’ roles being advertised which gets my hopes up. In the meantime I have a part time job in retail. Half of my department is off sick so there’s a lot of overtime going but it’s been frustrating with a rubbish new manager who isn’t on top of anything. I’m supposed to get a weeks notice of shifts with 24 hrs notice being the exception but lately every week my shifts have only been confirmed the day before or I get a message begging me to work the next day. This doesn’t seem like a very positive opening post, want it all off my chest before the year end haha!
  6. I’m really getting tired of hearing it. I was just getting ready to plug in the vacuum to clean the apartment, but before I could ever turn it on, the noise starts. “Quantum…QUANTUM! We need to talk,” she said. “What? I’m trying to clean the place up. I just finished the kitchen and I need to do the carpets.” “That’s the problem!” she yelled. “You are way too motivated.” “What?” “If you’re not cleaning the house or taking pride in your appearance or paying all of your bills on time, then you’re neck-deep in some self-improvement task trying to expand yourself and become a better man.” She said. “I’m sorry, baby. Am I not paying enough attention to you?” “UGH! You make me want to SCREAM! You pay enough attention to me, too! And the imaginary sex is amazing. You never do anything wrong. Don’t you know that women do not date guys that are motivated and ambitious? They date slothful, unkempt, broke, unstable guys with drug habits and anger management problems. They date guys that keep jobs for 2 or 3 days. Women NEED this kind of drama so they can exercise their complaint muscles. You NEVER give me anything to complain about.” “You’re complaining now. In fact, you’re complaining about having nothing to complain about, which would make your entire hypothesis null and void.” At that moment, she picked up an imaginary glass vase and threw it accross the room at me. It shattered into a thousand imaginary pieces, all of which I promptly cleaned up. Upon her witnessing this, she became further agitated and stormed out the front door. I ran outside in my bathrobe as I watched her walk down the street. I said, “BABY! Can’t we talk about this?!” The next door neighbor was standing on his patio smoking a cigar. He said, “Dude, who are you yelling at?” “Sorry…my imaginary girlfriend is pissed. I’m trying to calm her down and get her to come back inside,” I said. “Whoa. Intense, dude. Well, why don’t you just imagine her back inside?” he said. “Oh, yeah,” I thought. So we were both back inside the apartment and we’re sitting on the sofa. I took her invisible ethereal hand and held it, although I was really just rubbing a pillow for effect. “Baby,” I started, “what is it that you want? Do you want to be with a less ambitious guy?” “How can I?! I’m imaginary. I was trying to go down the street and you just imagined me back in here. I have no free will to act like a real woman.” “Well, what if I imagine you with another guy…one like you think you should be with. His name is Lobo…he just got fired from Denny’s and he cooks crystal meth in his bathtub. Will that work for you?” “Wow. You would do that for me?” she said with a surprised imaginary look. “Of course, baby. I love you.” So with that, being the honorable man that I am, I kept my word and imagined her into another life with a guy that a woman is much more likely to call a boyfriend. Now I’m sitting at home alone and I miss her. Since I have to do all the imagining, I see her every time she kisses him, sleeps with him, calls him a big loser, but still goes running back to him because she swears she loves him. I’ve imagined they broke up six times already and they keep getting back together. Eventually, I’m going to imagine her posting on ENA complaining about the guy, but I know she’s still going to stay with him. I’m so sad about it, but what can I do? This is what she wants and I love her. Rick put Ilsa on the plane at the end of the movie, and I feel like I have to do the same thing. Oh, I tell ya. Of all the imaginary gin joints in the world, why’d she have to walk into mine?
  7. by Greggie Crickets chirp, their reasons unknown Gibberish language of that which we own Alive in the air, half-dead in the hall If you speak of nothing, you should speak not at all And I with my gallant articulate ways Could bring you to tears with just one simple phrase Carefully chosen words which I utter Ruined entirely by nervous stutter If only you saw me behind doors which close Kicked down by the mob, like a deer, I but froze Centered you stood, you belong nowhere else Distance so far from my corners and cells And all who surrounded you needed not be There was nothing but you - not even me Shrunken to half of my size in mere seconds A child now in age, I would come as you beckoned Your microscope burning my now ant-like figure Small as an atom, I wish I was bigger To grow seems unnatural, I stay minuscule The mind of a poet, the words of a fool I chose my own caste, and can't out if it crawl While you shall live richly and prosper in all Our paths will not cross, the words will not form This story will not go beyond pages torn I built you a pedestal, I built it too high I cannot grow an inch, I cannot even try I cannot climb over your fences of pickets I cannot be a God, when I'm only a cricket But think of me fondly, if you ever do And I will speak greatly and grandly of you I need not exaggerate, nor need I lie Crickets chirp, it is unknown why The poem is about feelings of inferiority, imposed on oneself, and the consequences which follow.
  8. You two who have spent the last six years soaked In blood and spotlight and sweat and tiny words and rain and rain and rain You two who have kept me out of more trouble than I care to think about "You seem like a sensible kid," says the policeman Probably just because I keep you two around You Two, who have lain in a half-folded pile on tables and beside beds Sometimes with two companions, bending and cutting the moonlight into four Now meet your demise Under a beer-propelled foot I never thought I'd get this attached to a pair of glasses.
  9. by Greggie The tiles beneath us, black and white Contemplations, strategics, left or right The clack of heels, a board of glass Foolishness, egos and all that jazz Are you a child? Are you insecure? Are you unattainable? Is that your allure? Am I only a body, a source of relief? My intellect shunned, your ego in grief Wounded and bleeding, it goes in attack I rejected your flesh, so you rejected mine back My presence disabled, ghost-like I sway Resistance dumbfounded you, chess we must play Sexless and intimate, tickled and pleasured Reluctant, oblivious to scores that you measured No ego, no pride, no Great Wall to crumble Withstanding refusal to be none less than humble But you never realized on the ground which you tread I rested comfortably, your feet at my head You saw only the physical resistance of charm Never the spiritual twisting of arm And I could've built you, like statues of stone Like Michelangelo's angels, like Colosseum of Rome Timeless and grand and made to stand ages Missing out stupidly, for chess games and wages So tell me who won? And what poor soul did lose? I never did notice, perhaps you called truce? I walked off the board, white flag in frantics Remained unimpressed with child tactics and antics And my time lay wasted, disappointed and used Queens, pawns and bishops - none were amused Heavy breath of ego, wounded but alive We had to kill both you and I to ensure it would survive
  10. When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging accross the Internet. Cranky Old Man What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see? What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me? A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise, Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes? Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply. When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!' Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do. And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will, With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill? Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will. I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet. A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap. Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own. Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home. A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast, Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone, But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn. At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee, Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead. I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own. And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known. I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel. It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool. The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart. There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells, And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain. And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again. I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast. And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see. Not a cranky old man . Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!
  11. I feel as if I'm in the eye of the storm, the winds circling at seemingly terminal velocity. Objects coming out of no where seem to coming directly at me, only to be held back by an unseen force. Yet, emotionally these things are leaving me traumatized.I feel I have no control of anything, I can only stand back and watch as things and people collide. I cry out warnings but I can't be seen or heard above the winds. What happened to cause this, why have things hurtled completely out of control, when did I lose control. All I wanted was to protect my own, to protect myself, to speak the truth, to defend myself, and all heck broke loose. No one believes me, I don't know if I believe myself anymore. Things are to cloudy, I can't think straight, did it happen or is it a figment of my imagination. My children say it did, I vaguely remember the situation. I if I stick with what I believe to be true, then the effects on myself and my children will be catastrophic. I am damned if I do damned if I don't. No matter what I am reaping the whirlwind.
  12. Written in Def Poetry Style... Hey yo, I thought I forgave, I thought I was free These things from my past just won't seem to leave I cry out to God, I'm beggin him please These things from my youth just won't seem to leave Why didn't I just do it Suicide my option, but I couldn't go through with it. And I'm still cryin out hoping one day I change Hoping one day God rids me of this heart ache and pain Molested twelve years.... Equals a life of fear and a whole lot of tears. But I'm not crying now least not in defeat gave my life to Jesus Now I bow at his feet But it ain't finished yet I strayed off the path the devil had set He had a plan for me it ended six feet below But it started in a good or a "Functional home" Mom and dad were working while my brother raised us kids No one ever thought to think of what the problem is... I'm cryin when you leave, I'm cryin when you come home Still no one seemed to listen in our so called "Perfect home" Until police came to our door and opened up your eyes Now for once we finally see behind the dark desguise A life of lies to hide behind, A life of secret sins A man a child in our home, when did this begin? Did you know the pain you'd cause, brotha did you think? Did you know how mom would cry how often dad would drink? Did you know you'd leave that child lost hurt and confused? And everything we've ever known in one day we'd lose Did you know the drugs I'd use just to numb my pain? And how many times I'd come so close to a bullet in my brain? Did you know the choice you made would bring me to know Christ? And what the Devil meant for wrong would give eternal life? That's life it's just not perfect Some times I wonder if it'll ever be worth it?
  13. This is another one as I said before im not to good but the topic or this is my miscarried child me and my ex had an early miscarrige and it took alot from me and today being fathers day it took alot out of me Is it possible to love a heart that never beat to need words that will never speak to want to tuck them in when they never sleep is it ok to dream about a baby that never really happened or think about my actions and replay the backwards wondering what I could have done to stop from letting it happen so for they moment I bid fearwell to the dreams of my 1st born just know daddy loves you and my promises remain untorn
  14. I don't think im very good but my counselor said its a good way to free my emotions Cold nights make me come to terms with the burn I gave myself no amount of money equals the wealth I felt when I held yourself now I have no live with the hand I delt myself so weather its a poker hand with 5 joker guys or a craps roll with snake eyes I did this to myself now I cry cold lonley and by myself hoping we have a child and I can make up for my past self
  15. I have observed what goes on outside the french window so many times with more curiosity than just plain noseiness. Today the sky is bright blue and there is hardly a cloud in sight. The large trees that surround the street stand tall with thick chocolate brown trunks and long branches some thich and others thin. The wind sways the bright green summertime leaves back and fourth. So many different coloured flowers that only bloom in summer, colours of white, yellow, raspberry pinks and lilacs surround front gardens, some you can see planted in the soil others you can see peeking out of bushes twinkling like gem stones. I don't suppose many people would be that interested in writing about what they see every day, most people get up at seven in the morning maybe sip coffee whilst they get ready to rush of to their nine to five lives, most people care about the more practical, logical things like making sure the tank in the car is full with petrol, others rush so they don't miss their buses or trains. There are very few that see things that are hidden, undiscovered and those things, the unseen things are the most beautiful of all. You would think I would be outside the window inhaling the fresh air and enjoying the way the sun feels on my skin. You would think I would have a daily routine like most people do. You see all of us have options I could choose to go about every day life I could travel in the rush hour if I wanted to, I could do what I should be doing but I choose not to. You want to know why?, because if I choose to step outside I have to ask myself a question. Who am I really when I step outside into the world?, If I could go back in time and observe me from outside the window I'd say I don't make eye contact with anyone just the floor, my body language is uncomfortable and the way I'm walking means I just want to get today over with and fast. I stay hidden in a crowd and on a one on one basis. When I'm out there I wear a mask and a imaginary shield protects me from everyone and everything, I don't feel anything apart from the breeze in my hair and the sun on my skin. I could say who I am isn't who I'm meant to be, but maybe it is. Maybe the parts that I hate so much about myself like being socially awkward, maybe I am just meant to be that way. Maybe I wasn't born to fit in, maybe I was born to be the observer, the writer. Most days I see the same three men walk past my house. The first man always walks past my house in the morning sometimes at nine sometimes at ten. He is tall and slender and looks in his thirites. No matter what the weather he always wears a long leather coat that flys out at the back when he walks, it kind of looks like a cloak. His black hair is always slicked back in that old fashioned way and his skin is so white and flawless and he always carries the same intense look on his face. He feels like an outcast, like he doesn't belong I can sense it from him. I don't see him as what other people might label him as, I look at him and I see hes just misunderstood with an old fashioned charm about him. The second man walks past my house in the afternoon and he is young, in his twenties and he is lovely looking. He either wears a gray or a baby blue jump suit and I know he's a mechanic. He is a average size with blonde short hair and blue eyes, he always looks thoughful whilst he smokes his cigarette, I always feel like smokers smoke for a reason and that reason isn't to look cool. The last man that walks past my house is also tall his skin is a light olive tone and his face has so much bone structure to it he wears glasses and a hat with a dull green coloured coat and a dull colour gray rucksack, I can't sense as much from him as I can sense from the other two but I can tell he's not like most people. Whenever I see these three men walk by I feel a kind of connection to them and I feel like maybe they feel alone like I do. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to open the door and walk up to each of them and tell them that I see them walk past my house every day and that I can sense their emotions, but that would be just weird. The truth is I don't know anything about them and I never will. We will never know absoloutly everything about everyone, we think we do but we don't. That's the mystery, the beautiful thing that is unseen.
  16. It’s 3AM, and here I am almost 2 years later to the day.... Sitting alone on this lonely beach. The same beach where we went out on our third date, where we had a picnic, drank some wine, and ran through the water together like two kids in love, like something out of a cheap romance novel. This is same beach where I began to fall in love with you. Where we began our journey together. I’m sitting here like we once did, but it's not the same as before... It's so lonely, desolate and quiet, not like it once was. The waves, they're taunting me, like they know. The beach is so cold and oh so unwelcoming. I sit here thinking, afraid to go home. Afraid to go back to sleep. Afraid to wake up. Sitting here, asking the same questions over and over. Questions that I don’t have the answers to, questions I may never have the answers to. I know I’m just tormenting and exhausting myself by running through my head over and over, trying to figure it all out. But I can’t help it. Should I try to move on? I can’t, I don’t want to...I don't want to fade away. I know soon I will head home, back to my now empty bed. I’ll go and smoke one more cig before I finally lay down, trying to sleep. And I know as I lay motionless, I’ll just dream and prey for you to come through that door like you use to, and you’ll come lay down next to me, tell me you love me and missed me. I’ll wrap my arms around you, holding you tight and kissing you and we'll fall asleep like old and I’ll finally wake up, wake up from this nightmare like nothing ever happened. I’ll dream and prey, knowing it won’t happen. I keep on telling myself one more day, I wish I had one more day or one more hour or one more minute with you. Just one more minute of looking at you or one more embrace or one more kiss or just one more moment feeling your presence. I know that's not true though. One more will never be enough with you. I don't remember being so selfishly happy as I was when I was with you. It knocks the wind out of me how in just days of being with you could suddenly make the world without you be so unfamiliar. Everything is exactly the same as it once was before you. Same bed, same route, same people, same work but somehow it's different. “They” keep telling me to pick myself up, each day will get easier. Just go out and keep busy, and even to just go get laid. I keep busy but the moments when I am alone it all comes flooding back like the unwelcoming waves on this ocean beach. And how can I go out and get laid. It feels like I’m cheating on you, cheating myself. It won’t help. Trying to fill that huge empty void with meaningless sex isn’t going to do it. Nothing can do it but maybe time itself. And maybe they’re right, maybe each day may get easier. Maybe the day will finally come when I'll wake up and I won't look over to see if you're there, one day I'll wake up and I won’t think it was all a bad dream, one day the tears will stop flowing from my eyes, one day I will stop hurting, one day I won’t wake up and feel the anger over everything that has transpired. And maybe one day I will be learn how to love someone else and let myself go again but I also know I'll never love anyone as much as I did love you. I feel like destiny is laughing in my face, like our story got cut short. Maybe it didn't, maybe fate brought us together, only to rip us apart. But it feels like it, there's so many things I had planned, so many things I wanted to do, so many questions I had, so much I wanted to tell you, so much I wanted to experience with you. Maybe fate will bring us back together one day….or maybe in 2 days or 2 weeks or 2 months or 2 years or even 2 decades. .. Maybe the day will come. It'll be like we never left. We’ll come back to this same beach, and we’ll run around through the sand like the kids we once were. In the meantime, I’ll just try to keep pushing myself and keep busy. Try to push myself further and further, harder and harder. Try to find out what I am made of. Try to stay strong, but also vulnerable because I have to be. I have accepted what has happened and grow. Just keep my mind free, grow and experience who I am and what this life, my life, is all about. You know, for that hour to two hours when play basketball or football, I focus on myself and lose myself. For that hour to two hours I am fully excused for not caring about anything else in the world but my own body. Just to focus on my breathing. Just putting one foot in front of the other. Focus on running, making the shot, jumping up and grabbing the rebound. It gives me an excuse to yell, to curse, to push, and even to even cry. It gives me that excuse I need to live. I’ll keep strong. I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I need to do and what changes I need to make. I figure that this is the life I need to re-adjust to. I just need to find the energy, the appetite, and the patience. No matter how strange it feels, I need to find my courage to live this life again. I will keep on missing you, I am sure of that. I am longing for you so bad it pierces my skin and shatters what's left of this heart. Maybe I will just remind myself to breathe in and breathe out as steadily as possible and wait for the day until it comes naturally again. It is hard though...to go back and leave that place. I miss all the trivial things about you…like the lines of your tattoo, the way you fall asleep with her head on my stomach, the way you snore and take up the entire bed, you little mannerisms. Of course I miss the much bigger things as well. And I do love you; I do love you with all my heart like I always have. I do await the day we may be together again like we never left. My love for you will last a lifetime my love. But for now, it's time to head back to that same car, take that long empty drive back home, make my way back to the same home, take that one last smoke and make my way back to the same, now empty bed so I can lay my head down and dream. Where I may finally sleep. Where I may begin to finally wake up. This beach will always wait for us my love.
  17. This is a poem i wrote to a girl i was with recently. I had noted all the little things she did and what i saw in her and tried hard to put them in a rhyme. It should be called..."this girl i know". I know this girl, with long blonde hair, she twirls it on her finger, as she sits in her chair, reading a book, or on her laptop, whateva the pose, this girl is hot, I know this girl, so gentle and kind, with a beautiful smile and an intelligent mind, I know this girl, so cute, so funny, as sweet as sugar, covered in honey, I know this girl, and shes a mum, you wouldnt believe, how great shes done, her kids are wonderful, happy and bright, a sure sign, they have been brought up right, I know this girl, she fills my mind, shes taken me almost 15 years to find, I know this girl, and she's got style but how can she not, with that gorgeous smile, I know this girl, i want to take to dinner, so from accross the table, i can watch her eyes shimmer, to take in her beauty, and stare like a dork, not paying attention, and miss my mouth with the fork, I know this girl, and people say " she suits ya" and i say " i know, i see her in my future", I know this girl, so soft like a breeze, stroking the branches and caressing the leaves, I know this girl, but does she know me, I guess in time, we will soon see, Because i know this girl, deserves the best, and i am definatelty not, like all the rest, I know this girl, for who i love and care, when she's down, i want to be there, I know this girl, who i always miss, I know this girl, i want to kiss, I know this girl, and you know her too, This girl i know.......baby it's you.
  18. All Alone I am all alone, I cannot see. How all this silence came to be. Shooting arrows, through bullet holes in the sky. Biting my lip, so as not to cry. Counting crows; one by one. Watching children have their fun. Crying and bleeding into the night. Praying that nobody will turn on my light. Trying to be something I am not. Hoping that nobody will find out, that I wont get caught. Working up my courage every day. To finally end my life, I do not want to stay. I feel my finger on the trigger. The metal against my head. My eyes I feel get bigger. As I pull it and am surrounded by red. I lay in a puddle. Waiting for it to end. I am bleeding and my thoughts are muddled. I though this was what I wanted? I guess it is too late to mend. I hear sirens in the distance. It's too late, they've wasted their time. Because soon I will seize my existence. And the step ladder to hell I will climb.
  19. 2o years is a long time some were good some were bad i just want you to know i'm happy for the time we had i thank you for loving me no matter what i thank you for being there for me through good times and bad losing you is one of the harest things i have come to understand i will cherrish out time our kids we have i just wish you happyness and success just know i will always care it has taken me awhile five months to be excact i feel now i can move on to what life has next find out who iam and what's in store watch life unfold if i meet someone new i hope he is what im looking for i finally feel ready for single life and enjoy my children with all my might
  20. It has been years. I have returned to share a piece: Mind Apocalypse rain drops splatter loud storm thundering there goes my crown hit the ground crumbling life fades too fast check point throw coins free paid fines for the golden pass step back big sorrow steps bring back wasted time spent wish you would've went so fix the past f*ck it next time go no blind toughen up never deaf listen enough pilot mode on auto switch to grand theft audio red flash meant go until there's nothing really left yeah and here I am still standing with my sad face wife hates no place no bliss no grace all punk no poise no nothing no toys child cry broken empty harsh full tank words spoken drilled echo pain full noise heart pain burst feign silent dream shot flash brains car crash scream passed bad past revolution failed evolution big name waste clean waste bad taste that solution never came go wait empty plate spoiled humor fed stupor generational raid with a hint of blue sued turned red countless dead blank heads spoiled mind bow tie all blind no sight click it first class ticket short flight dead end free fall police calls violent fight no bed long nights riots bleed angry earth fed crowd moist wrong spilled splat blood web tears flow bombs off friends die moms cry fathers ask why pride ends kids fly white gates, locks, clouds shed loud wings storm in dark sounds pockets full posey stained fluent with a rose red cause what goes around comes around then we all fall down enough said
  21. This poem I wrote most of it, the words in ''Italic'' are off songs that i related with...... Your love felt like a gift from God. Baby you and I we were so in love. We would've never given up. And you, You made me feel so high, by just looking in your eyes you made me feel so alive. We were blessed. I knew you loved me so, That look in your eyes was enough to let me know. I loved you with every breath that I took, with every beat of my heart. Would imagine one day I'd be your wife. Wouldn've died for you cos you were my whole life. Loving you was easy once upon a time but now my suspicians of you have multiplied. Just can't seem to get over the way you hurt me. As much as I wanna trust you I know it ain't the same. I may never understand why but I'm doing the best that I can. My heart was shattered and I tried to breath. My stomach in knots. I couldn't believe, I just didn't wanna see. I remember feeling like I was no good, that I couldn't do it for you. I thought you loved me? You said that I was the one. I gave you my everything, my all but it wasn't enough, I feel like you've given up. No Holding hands down the street. No kisses or falling at my feet. We were so wonderful, so magically beautiful. Wish you didn't change, Wish you stayed the same.
  22. Something we can all relate to at some stage in our lives, hope you enjoy it, my latest. No Shame in Crying To those who plead for another go, And the many who crave for a chance to grow, Tears of despair and hope filling their eyes, How admirable they may be for trying, There sure is no shame in crying. To the man on the street corner pleading for a simple dollar, Yearning for the donation of a passing by scholar, Aimlessly they appear to wander without a single care, Whilst the man's hopes of redemption are slowly dying, He sees no shame in crying. To the girl who simply seeks to eradicate adversity, a star in the making, Slowly her hopes and dreams are awakening, The whole world her stage, she's relinquished her lifelong facade, As her friends occupy their materialistic minds with each pair of shoes they are buying, She sees no shame in crying. To the men and women who witness the changing of lives, Of mothers, fathers, children, husbands and wives, Each day a symbol of persistent pride and triumphant tenacity, Their courage and service to humankind never denying, They see no shame in crying. To the teenage romantic who's doing it tough, Tired of being belittled and told they aren't good enough, The genuine battlers whose hearts are made of pure gold, Forget the doubters and keep on trying, Because there really is no shame in crying.
  23. This is one of my poems that I wrote about my childhood sexual abuse. I hope that someone will read it and know that they don't suffer alone. Writing my feelings down seems to help through the darkest days in which I still have many of. So here goes. I was just an innocent child when the worst of my life began, My parents took me where they thought I was safe as I fell victim to my own kin. A loving grandmother who worshiped me and cuddled with me each night, Did not know that monsters would sneak in and force me to leave her side. They took me away in another room where there I became of their use, And I was just an innocent child, learning to suffer from years of abuse. They threatened me by saying that if I told, bad things would come my way, Like never seeing my grandmother again so I had to say okay. She was the one I thought loved me the most and was my keeper right from the start, So I had to endure the pain I was in to make sure not to break her heart. I can remember the fear inside of her catching them as they lured me away without denial, I tried to be quiet as they entered each night and touched the foot of this innocent child. Now I'm an adult but robbed of so much, like the knowledge of love that one should know, For me it's like a roller coaster ride, it goes up and falls below. I let people get close to me but there's a wall that won't come down and stay, Which has made me struggle with falling a victim to most everyone that comes my way. They took away my ability to be assertive and lowered my self esteem, But as I still fight, I will find the might to let go of those awful things. My road has been rocky but I'm still a Survivor and now the must fight the war, My need for recovery will continue I know but I'm not the Innocent child no more.
  24. The Bag and Poetry ------------------ He's a property developer, Ah, how foolish of me, he drives a BMW, And he likes poetry, and... Any man would love poetry if you asked him, He has his life, I have mine, it seems to work quite well, What a nice life you'll have. I hope it's so convenient in twenty years, When your children bear his name, and his face, Perhaps Louis-Vuitton will keep the sun warm While I follow my heart, And I drive a Mitsubishi, With my wife that hates poetry, And our lives, bitterly intertwined, Becomes a terrible inconvenience. ----- No real editing or purpose, other than to vent a little. I was hurt, shocked, and confused when she mentioned "my boyfriend". I felt like she seriously led me on, considering. These are some of the thoughts going through my head while she divulged some details about him. I realise it's bitter and sarcastic, and not at all attractive, it just had to be said somewhere.
  25. I bow my head to honour all our fallen soldiers both the US and her allies in all the conflicts past and present. Yet, this is my list of my buddies, people I trained with, or who trained me, people I served with or knew personally. Each one of these men were an integral part of my life and some the life of my family, some more than others, but all equally as important. They are ALL missed. ROLL CALL SFC Greg Frontius (good friend) 7 th SFG(A) 02 April 87 SSG Douglas Hunter (family) 82 nd (A) 01 July 87 Helo crash 12 Marsh 89 3rd/ 5th SFG (A) Cpt. Brown SSG Campbell * SGT Larry Endress SFC Evans SSG Griswold *SGT Terry Holloway… best friend medic *SSG Kevin Livengood…friend medic *SFC George Wayne…good friend medic *Col. Nick Rowe…mentor/father figure CW2 Stanley Harriman (family) 3rd SFG(A) 2 March 2002 OEF SSG Orlando Morales 7th SFG(A) 29 March 2003 OEF SFC William M. Bennett (good friend, medic) 5th SFG(A) 12 September 2003 OIF MSG Kevin N. Morehead (good friend medic) 5th SFG(A) 12 September 2003 OIF SSG Paul A. Sweeney 3rd SFG(A) 30 October 2003 OEF SGM Michael B. Stack (one of my instructors…great guy) 5th SFG(A) 11 April 2004 OIF SFC Pedro A. Munoz (good man, great role model) 7th SFG(A) 2 January 2005 OEF MSG Anthony R.C. Yost (great leader) 3rd SFG(A) 19 November 2005 OEF SSG Leroy E. Alexander 7th SFG(A) 3 June 2005 OEF MSG Thomas D. Maholic (a practical joker and a great friend) 7th SFG(A) 24 June 2006 OEF SSG Michael D. Thomas (good friend) 7th SFG(A) 27 April 2007 OEF SGT Timothy P. Padgett 7th SFG(A) 8 May 2007 OEF MSG Arthur L. Lilley (my favorite redhead, we all loved him, especially my children) 7th SFG(A) 15 June 2007 OEF SFC David Nunez (good man) 7th SFG(A) 29 May 2008 OEF MSG Mitchell W. Young 7th SFG(A) 13 July 2008 OEF SFC Jeffrey Rada Morales (a great medic) 7th SFG(A) 29 June 2008 OEF MSG Shawn E. Simmons 7th SFG(A) SGT James M. Treber 7th SFG(A) 29 June 2008 OEF CPT Richard G. Cliff 7th SFG(A) 29 September 2008 OEF SFC Jamie S. Nicholas 7th SFG(A) 29 September 2008 OEF SFC Gary J. Vasquez 7th SFG(A) 29 September 2008 OEF SFC Bradley S. Bohle( he was the best, his daughter is five now…cute as can be…she and Brad’s Mom helped me to lay memorial wreaths at the graves) 7th SFG(A) 16 September 2009 OEF SSG Joshua R. Townsend 7th SFG(A) 16 January 2009 OEF SFC Shawn P. McCloskey (good man) 7th SFG(A) 16 September 2009 OEF SSG Joshua M. Mills (medic) 7th SFG(A) 16 September 2009 OEF Yes there are more who died in 2010-to present and they should be honoured as well…. I just didn’t know anyone personally who was active duty.
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