I didn't read the blog agreement, I dont know if I'm allowed to swear, so here's the warning:
If strong language offends you, stop reading this, or better yet, e-mail me a Pointy@musician.org with your name, and address, so that I might thoroughly slap around your conveluded sheltered ass.


Wouldn't it be nice if life were everything that we'd hoped for, all that we'd been tought that should happen would ineed happen? Wouldn't it be such a utopia if everybody got what they wanted? We can all wish that bad things didn't happen, we all want to believe that if you expend enough energy that it can negate futility. Eventually, we realize that this is utter bullshit. Eventually we grow up. Eventually everyone becomes a jaded tattered shell after waking up from the deep thick dillusions of childhood. Don't try and prevent that moment from occuring. Or else you'll just be doomed to repeat it. Wanting to retreat to the past is foolish, because when you retreat to your past, you must relive the present that you'd opt to avoid. The important thing to do is to do your best to put yourself back together, even if there are people who are ready willing and able to do all of that tast on your behalf.

Right now I'm topping of a large jug of rum, which im sure you'll agree is a bad thing to do in this state of mind, but I need a distraction, and this would be the least counter productive. I'm also going to heavily exercise once my mental force has been dampered thoroughly. Writing helps the mental force, but I still want the liquor to give me the farmiliar embracement of disphoria. It may not be the best idea to force physcial stress while dehydrated in the texas heat, but that is also the least distructive option. My home bears enough holes from the onslaught of a goliath wheelchair with an overmedicated middle aged man at the helm. Cutting my own flesh would be just as immature as breaking my own posessions in a feral rage.

Everyone has scars. We learn from them. Even if the lesson is something as basic as the shame to prevent such outbursts in the near future, it's still progress. We all are led off our paths occaisionally. It is such an occurance that allows us to truly charish moments of order. For the moment, I am a stray, astray, and a fucking ashtray.