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When I was 21 years old i stood out in the cold at a greyhound bus station i belive in Denver, Colorado...and standing  across from me was a 19 year old man i guess that to be his age and he had  Down syndrome.  His caregiver, she was too old to be his Mom i thought, had made him wear a huge one piece snow suit and yeah it was a bit nippy outside, but not THAT cold.  Kind of like in the movie a Christmas Story where the little brother Randy is wrapped up so tight he can't even fuckun' move. 

This so called care giver had this boy wrapped TIGHT.  She also kept winding a scarf around his neck so tight that by the end of her "care" just beneath the hood of this god damned one piece winter puff suit fiasco...all you could see was his magnified eyes beneath his blond horn rimmed glasses....like suffocating toad eyes...ready to burst...and he just stood there starring straight into my eyes and he did not move...he stood there looking used, fucked, overtaken, stuffed, and i knew he was sweating just a complete fucking bundle underneath that eyesore of a costume...claustrophobic as fuck and I remember wanting ....wanting so bad .....so fucking badly...just to

Kill Her.

I wanted to Deck Her in the Right side of Her Skull...take
a buck knife
and cut him out of that suit.
Give him a leather motorcycle jacket
and scotch tape her into what was left of that horrid suit until she suffocated to death.

Then we got on the bus...and that god damned ride for him must've been like Dante through the routes of Hell...for the bus was warm and heated...and he could hardly even sit upright...and his care taker mindlessly spaced off dreaming about new dentures....

So I decided then and there that I would never turn down the opportunity to burn in life...and live for all the stuck motherfuckers under stress....or those in Iron Lungs...those in Comas...the paralyzed...all those people i met and pushed in wheelchairs...back in my youth...swim for the kids who can't swim...fuck for those with broken spines....and Live life to the bloody hilt.

I see life pretty cut and dry...

I like to take the stairs.

i like to kiss on the first date.

I like to tell people that i love them before it's too fucking late.

I like to take the trash out for my Mom...even thou i don't like doing it...I like doing it.  I will NOT help her rake leaves thou....that is a hobby she has to keep to herself....fuck that action!

If you've ever helped anybody in need or held the hand of the dying or kissed the corpse of somebody you loved...then you should know the score...and the rest of you can get better cell phone connections around the corner...so piss off proper.

We are all in our own private Hells inside of a bigger Hell called Earth inside of a dream called Space....and we float on a fucking ball....don't dare ask me to check my reality....I float on a blue ball in midnight never ending space....you work at the dairy queen....so shut your Gob.

I loathe suffering.
I embrace sorrow cause i have no choice.

Suicide is not an option.

I roll even if it's like Lanegan said...just to keep on Rolling...through the muck
through the History
through the vile bogs of people's ignorance
through it all
until
i

cannot Run no more.

My Father taught me about the Underdog.

I am not a victim yet and I am not championing being without anything...but I understand the emptiness...the struggle....the myth of sissy puss, ya know that geezer with the big fuck all stone and the mountain it kept rolling back down on...the repetitiveness....and feeling alone....

good folks often struggle.

what keeps me going is trying to get to the next place to again meet up with good people like yourself...and celebrate in this Dante'esque acceptable insanity like world...this mad dream, we are all having....

I gain my strength late at night drunk, reading simple lines from Christ

or i ponder the colours of Shiva's tongue and torso...

and like a good man once said....Never let the Swine see you sweat.

I am also waiting on the death of a certain politician....and then I will party like it's 1725.

Live for those who can't.

I ache to be kinder...and I am NOT ALWAYS, kinder...I have a lot of bad days just like you....and I can be a real asshole...but it's not my essence... *

There is no where to go but forward...so pick up your spirit and kick it's engine ON.

Through all of it,

Cancer
funerals
blood in your hands
dead dogs splattered on the highway
through broken hearts and lying letters of long lost love
through sorrow
through the days with no Sunshine
through the long nights of the soul

fuck it all

Soldier Blue

You keep on keepin' ON....

These boots were made for walkin'.

Love is Heavy.

 

cheers to you sister Jen...

I look forward to your book
and hearing more of you smacking them drum skins

You are not invisible
and your smile is intoxicating...it leads to Joy...

believe in yourself like I believe in you

and then in a year or so ...you can lend me 5 dollars from getting paid for being so fucking rockawesome....

hindu bow.

be kind for so few are (B.E.)

iAN