Friday, December 12, 2003

Some say the end is near. Some say we’ll see armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call la The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any fucking time. any fucking day. Learn to swim, I’ll see you down in arizona bay. Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hairpiece and Fret for your prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your cable and Fret for your car. It’s a Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call la The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any fucking time. any fucking day. Learn to swim, I’ll see you down in arizona bay. Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by faultlines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits. Some say the end is near. Some say we’ll see armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cuz I sure could use a vacation from this Silly shit, stupid shit... One great big festering neon distraction, I’ve a suggestion to keep you all occupied. Learn to swim. Mom’s gonna fix it all soon. Mom’s comin’ round to put it back the way it ought to be. Learn to swim. Fuck l ron hubbard and Fuck all his clones. Fuck all those gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. Learn to swim. Fuck retro anything. Fuck your tattoos. Fuck all you junkies and Fuck your short memory. Learn to swim. Fuck smiley glad-hands With hidden agendas. Fuck these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses. Learn to swim. Cuz I’m praying for rain And I’m praying for tidal waves I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom please flush it all away. I wanna watch it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away. Time to bring it down again. Don’t just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t Welcome any change, my friend. I wanna see it all come down.   10:32:03 PM     Mother? I remember the night my mother died. I recall a strange feeling come over me at work, suddenly nearly crying. People asked me what was wrong, but of course I said nothing. Roughly 30 minutes later one of my supervisors walked over to me, she had this strange look on her face, and her red hair suddenly matched the color of her skin. I began to sob, could hardly walk, and I staggered into her office where I sat on the floor and wept. My father was on the phone. My mother just died, and he had just rushed home, about a 20 minute drive, to tell me the news. I gathered my wits and got into my Honda Civic and drove to the hospital. Then...  I felt nothing, no grief. No pain. For about the entire trip there was a sleek new jet black Lincoln Town Car ahead of me. The trip to the hospital was beyond bizarre, maybe one day I will share it with you. Anyhow, I got there, met my father and his best friend in her room, the room where my mother died. The curtain was drawn, and dad got up, and he began to pull the curtain back. I thought "My God, no, I do NOT want to see her dead body." But I had to, because he expected me to do it. And there she (or it) was, the tips of her fingers a strange shade of purple, and a most creepy foul smell filled my nose. Her mouth was gaping open, her face wore no expression and her skin looked like wax. And it was then I realized that wasn't my mother. That deceased person in that bed was just a vessel, but it sure as hell was NOT my mother. All I could think was one word. Corpse. After this day, I came to grips with my past. And I came to grips with her, and the feelings I held in regards to her since I was a child. All my life I called her Mother, and I suppose she was in many respects, and I cared for her, and at times when she was mentally healthy, I loved her, but my real mother died when I was 5 years old, but was she really a mother? Or an egg donor? Fuck, I get so confused. To be frank, as much as it saddens me (sometimes) they are both gone, I am better off without them. I think I never really had a real mother at all. What a brat I am. I am not saying any of this for your pity, or because I want anything remotely close to that. Simply because I wish to share who I am so that maybe somehow, you can relate to me. So that you can, without knowing me, know how much I care about you, without me having even met you. I know, it doesn’t make sense to you, but you don’t know me well enough for it to make sense. There are so many things I want to say here, so many things I want to get off my chest. But to talk about the events would be like handing you 5 pieces of a complex mystery puzzle that would take volumes to put together. The complexity of it all. Sometimes, it is best to start from the beginning, isn't it? And why? If I were to tell you about my life, I must start from the beginning, with the first memory I have. And if I should tell you what that memory is, you would think I am half crocked. But I swear, I am not. My first memory was when I was not even a year old, I swear this on my daughter’s life... that this is how far back I can remember things. And what is this recollection from my infancy? When my biological mother sat me down in my diaper pail, and I screamed my head off. I was terrified, yes, it is a bit hazy, but I remember looking all around, barely able to see over the top of the greenish-blue pail about the size of small kitchen garbage can, and I remember frantically screaming. And I remember exactally what I thought. I remember so clearly what went through my mind. Fear. I didn't know it was a diaper pail full of clean cloth diapers. Man, did I ever freak out... Why? Because silly, I thought she put me in the garbage.  13 Death Measured footfalls ring, metal-shod on cobblestone, and call the ravens from the roofs. I thought him fiction, icon, myth, yet here I hang, and here he comes. Armored rib-bones knock, rapping iron with ivory, and summon darkness from the earth. I thought that I would never die, yet here I hang, and here he comes. Winter fingers snap, task well-known for eons gone, and serve the warrant of the grave. I was a priest, a mage, a prince, yet here I hang, and here he is. 9:18:28 PM

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