The Great Big Checklist (Man Has Much To Fear)

The list of things I need to do every birthday:

• Listen to Thriller √
• Watch Night Of The Living Dead (In Progress)
• Read some Lovecraft √
• Review a Jack Chick Tract √
• Listen to the Carol Of The Great Old Ones (Season? WTF?) √
• Consume candy beyond reason

Now if all this work wasn't getting in the way..

birfday

I know tradition demands this be a day of endings, but I can't help but think ahead to what my next birthday may hold.

We'll be out of the hotel, back at the compound, with a bonfire large enough to spite the moon. Another brow to kiss goodnight. The maelstrom behind us, emotions cooled to a standing point where everyone will hopefully feel comfortable to breath. A party maybe, so long as there's room enough for a sense of sacred in a clearing under the stars.

If the days remain half as merry, it will seem like tomorrow.

I'm sorry if this is a pretty obtuse post, but, well, its my birthday.

we spoke of was and when

Dear Son,

Never bring your family here again. Also, you're pretty much disowned.

Happy Birthday,
Mom

not a mormon.

dear friendly crusader,

Why must your lifestyle be king? And even if you believed so, why must I do the same? I help those I can and live with high moral standards just like you. Can't we keep our views on eternity to ourselves. Why do you have to fear? Why do you question with only the desire to spread your own dogma. You have no desire to hear. You only flee with fear. Quick to judge and hand out sentence.

Why ask me how this makes you feel? I was once one of you. I know how you feel. I am the one who sought for a different way. I am the shunned. But I will not live this life restricted based on social or religious habits. And I find peace and joy in all I do knowing that.

I just thought you would have enough respect for me as a human-fucking-being to trust me. Are my acts not example enough of my worthiness. Philosophy should not change our affection for each other. We are the same. The highest of hopes for family life, children, and the world. Have I not always strived to be the informed advocate?

You say you have a hard time understanding why I live how I do? You've never heard of it before? Well, I've heard of your way. Known it intimately. And I actively choose to discard it. I believe it harmful to the human race. But you don't see me lunging long winded ignorant bullshit at you. We have free will and I'm choosing it. Sorry if it scares you, but your lack of relevant questions, or want of understanding, disappoints me, but I'm not surpised.

Why do those who profess love and tolerance have the hardest time expressing it? Why not perform the job you asked for.

Your friendly polyfidelitous atheist,

M

Subtractions (Everyone Tells Me I'm Close Minded)

I always thought what other people thought of me didn't matter. I guess I can still say the same, but now I've run into a different sort of problem.

I feel that getting involved with two wonderfully caring and devoted people has really added to my life significantly. I've never really been one to adhere to social norms, so if you don't like it, I really don't care. That's been my attitude and why should I change it to make others happy?

<"Don't worry about what I listen to, worry about your own life.">
<"Cause I'm not gonna change for you or anyone.">

So far I've been lucky. No one's voiced how "displeased" they are with what I do with others in my bed, or told me I'm a horrible person for loving two people(OH MY GOD!!!). But like I said...I've been lucky. Maybe I have forgiving friends & family (they'd better be after all their shit!), maybe they all just know me well enough (how long has it been? since I was twelve?), or maybe no one really cares. The point is this - I haven't gotten any flak.

The same cannot be said for either of my significant others. What about how people feel about them? All I've done is added to my life while they may potentially have to subtract. Sure, I don't care what's thought of me...but what about the people they stand to lose? What about the phone calls not being returned and the stupid goodbye emails? Is this my fault? No. And I know that. But does that make it any better? No, of course not. I know it's not my fault she's lost a good friend, but that doesn't make it easier. It doesn't keep tears away or help comfort her.

It just makes me angry. I wish I could tell her not to let it bother her, that if this person was a true friend they would accept her choice of lifestyle. But it seems so heartless. I have nothing but contempt for narrow minded people. If there's one thing in this world that I can't stand it's people who are intolerant of other people's cultures...that and the Dutch.

Moral of this story - Don't take any guff from those fucking swine.

one expedition and a meal

Dealing with traffic on an expedition to town

I'm the last awake as a low-key Saturday sputters into unconsciousness on our most comfortable furniture. There was no bold event that marked the calendar, just a series of pleasant incidents leaving me looking forward to more days slipping by like this one.

How could anyone call this wrong?

October 25th, 2007

So many things happened today.

This morning on the road (Drivin' Sampler #4; some songs are made for country highways) we narrowly escaped The Man as we sped (at illegal speeds) down the vast rural highway racing the clock and my boss to work. I was deeply entrenched in a civil battle in the back seat between two opposing four year olds when suddenly I felt the car slowing down. Knowing the urgency in which I must high tail it to work, I abandoned all hope of truce and pulled out of the battle to see my girlfriend glaring at the police cruiser in the rear view mirror. "They're on to us!" I thought wildly. I glanced at the speedometer...we were still going 10 over the limit! The cop pulled ahead of us and flashed his lights at the guy directly in front of us who slows his car and pulls to the side of the road.

There's a moral here. Never be the fastest guy on the highway. A sexy lady told me that once.

Hours go by at work. Shit happens, but we're all still alive.

Now we're on the highway again. We're minus one, but it still feels like home. We're having deep thoughts and metaphysical ramblings (and we hate Deliah)...exorcisms are still "in" and I feel like throwing up. She's talking and I don't know what I'm thinking, but I'm looking out the window at the scenery passing by us. She's speaking of spiritual things and I see this burning field.
"What the fuck?", I say.
"I know, what the fuck!"
"No! What the fuck?!"
"Oh!"
And we get out of the car (and I feel a pang of guilt for the boy in the car who is amazed by everything cool), and we draw closer to the flames. The fire stretches across the brief horizon and I know the picture she takes will never do it justice...just as I know the image will remain with me forever. Five days to Samhain...the death of the river only brings us closer to the birth of the sea.

Now I know why so many writers are drunks.

random acts

The process of consumption that lead up to this blog finally being launched has also bludgeoned my brain into a fine jelly, from which no proper posting could escape alive*.

That said, I feel like the incident today, the motivator for getting this done, should be recorded. As far as my viewpoint allowed, it started briefly after it was suggested to me that I should pay attention to a specific piece of music. (The phrasing might have been "it sounds hawaiian".) A motorbike, mounted by a couple, flew over the back bumper of a gray four-door pulling quickly into the parking lot of a (chicken place?). I distinctly remember there being some sliding. We offered some assistance, but ours was just one cellphone in the flock. Leather came through, and no one seemed seriously injured.

We pressed on and found some ice cream.

*I'll probably delete this when I'm sober.