Podcasts

I would suggest downloading itunes and searching the podcasts for these.

Meditation Station by STIN - Guided meditations for different
occassions, very relaxing

Just dig through the rest.
There are tons

Itunes

I am still digging through iTunes for podcasts.
I think I may start posting the information here, just incase anyone
wants to listen to some of what I waste my time on
I really need to start writing, but life has been fast and furious and
I need quiet time to write.
I need quite time

Meditation

I am about to start counting the good days.
It seems as if I am off on a run of good days.
There are moments when all appears to be crashing down on me, but
overall, I have had a great run of good days.

So....
I have started downloading podcasts for my ipod.
My favorites are guided meditations.
When I get a few moments alone, I plug in the ipod and listen and relax.

Ten short minutes can make a world of difference.

I am back

I figured this would be easy, but life is really beating me down.
The best part of being exhausted, hating my job, and never seeing the
light at the end of the tunnel is that I am pretty upbeat.
On a day to day basis I am still going strong.

I just wish I had more time to sit and smell the roses these days.
Just once a day or so.
Maybe after the holidays.

How do others feel about the Holidays?
They are not my favorite time of the year.

Especially with birthday # 40 lurking around the corner.

More later.

Explanation

I decided to post via email.
This will let me send in my words and thoughts in a very impulsive manner
Which I like
The first test email never appeared.
I explained all this in it.
So I sent test mail 2
It showed.
now I am explaining

Test 2

I am trying again.
Nearly 30 minutes later and the first has not show up

Good Places

Once during a job training my group was having a very difficult time completing a task. Our trainer told us to shut our eyes and "go to your happy place."

My happy place was (and probably still is) the moment in the car when I realized my divorce was final and I cried like a baby. I ran rivers out of my eyes for fifteen minutes and it was good.

One person in our group sat silently for a couple of moments, then wailed "I don't have a happy place."

Talk about having a shit life.

The reason I bring this all up is that one of the reasons I started this blog was so I could be dark and brooding. I seemed to spend a lot of time this way.

Weather mental or chemical, I seem to have left some of my brooding behind since my run in with the bottle of Lexapro.

In reality, I feel pretty damn good.
All issues aside, I am doing great.

Now this brings up what I am doing here if it isn't brooding.
1) I want to keep writing. I am even working on a story right now. (see, good signs of feeling good)
2) Discuss/think out loud about racy issues. (I think I need readers for that).

I am still working out #2 because I ain't good at talking about certain things.
But I am interested.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Lets see if I can't have a story or part of one posted on Monday.

No Secret

No secret here.
The ladies at lunch were talking about work crushes which got me to thinking.
There has never been "that person" at work that I had to see.
It isn't a sexual thing, apparently it just a crush.
You want to see them. You want to talk with them. You want to feel a bit special with them. (their words, not mine.)

The closest I ever got was a couple of years ago when I had an attractive coworker who would tell me "Good morning sunshine" when ever I saw her first thing in the morning. It was flattering. IT made me feel good, but I could take it or leave it.

I save my crushes for the net ;)

So what about work crushes?

Anyone going to chime in?

Wow

Three in a row?

Lets talk about work crushes.
Nothing serious.

Anyone ever had one?
A super secret work crush that no one knew about?

More interesting talk at lunch that made me start thinking.

What is appropriate?

Out of a staff of about 80 at my job, there are about six of us that eat lunch together on daily basis.
Two men and three or four women, depending on the day of the week.

We are a pretty open minded and rowdy bunch, but we know and observe certain limits.
I try and stay away from locker room guy talk when I can and I guess I expect the same for the women.

Today though, they went a bit over the line. I think it was on purpose, but I am not sure, so ladies feel free to chime in.

Today the discussion was all fun and games until the women sank to talk that while interesting is rather embarassing, especially in mixed company.


Here are some of the topics that kept me staring into my salad for most of lunch.

1) Landscaping - trimming around the edges or mowing the the whole yard? Waxing vs shaving?
2) Comfortable panties, when not to wear panties, and thongs gone wrong.
3) Spit or swallow?
4) Self love, appropriate or get someone to service you instead?

Don't get me wrong. I am a serious pervert on most days and my lunch crew are ALL attractive women. Dirty talk with them should be a nice distraction, but I was a bit shocked.

I just got the feeling that they were trying to get the men to respond today.
We just ate our lunches, mumbled about the world series and tried to ignore it.

What the fires in California make me think of

Roses Grow - Concrete Blonde

L.A
Who'da thought
Right smack dab in the middle of what
With the belching buses
And broken bones
DEVIL POUR ME ANOTHER SHOT
Hey, hey
L.A.
Who'da thought

L.A.
After closing when it's down to me
And the same old souls
Well Johnny's all right if you buy him a gin
He'll tell you his stories about Errol Flynn
He even danced with Marilyn!
No way!
Thats what they say
DEVIL POUR ME ANOTHER SHOT!
Hey, hey
L.A.
Who'da thought

Up through the cracks
Up through the broken glass
In the hot red light of a black and white
Roses grow

Roxy is in tonight
She's styling around in her fishnet tights
And she's got more life at 65
Than the teenage boys she keeps up all night
Heavy metal
Young hard cock
What, can't you handle that kind of talk?
The strippers here they really rock
DEVIL POUR ME ANOTHER SHOT
Hey, hey
L.A.
Who'da thought

Up through the cracks
Up through the broken glass
In the hot red light of a black and white
Roses grow
Up through the glass (Up through the glass)
Up through the broken glass (Up through the broken glass)
In the hot red light of a black and white (In the hot red of a black and white)
Roses grow
Roses grow
Roses grow
Roses grow....

Okay, some titillation?

First off, I probably misspelled the title. That is how life goes ;)

Old news.
Had to cold turkey off of the lexapro. Dr wanted it, Insurance said NO.
I still don't know if the stand off ended, but I had no prescription so off I went.

And I feel great.
Maybe all I needed was a reset.
Damn good news.

Now I have had to deal with my mom's cancer coming back, my youngest daughter having a bowel blockage, and work with no meds

Good news is that I still feel great. Figured the mom thing would send me into a spiral, but nope, still chugging.

So how to titillate?

I am pushing forty. Two more months and then I hit the 40.
Soooooo.

Once upon a time I had a great weakness that revolved around women.
I am not even sure how I made it through my teens and twenties.

Hell, I am not even sure how I made it through my early thirties without being killed by a woman, her father, brother, or boyfriend.

Nothing bad mind you, but if there were meds to make people stop thinking about sex, I needed a triple dose, probably four times a day.

So where does that take me?

Not sure, but at 40 sex isn't what it used to be.
It is good, but it seems like that insane drive I had for sex has waned, in a serious way.

Part of me is happy. It is good to see clearly and without thinking below the waist.
The other part is rather sad. I kinda miss the old insane passion. The desire to get naked and bounce around like a mad man.

Okay, not too juicy, but I am working my way up to bigger and better things.
hehe, just wait

Funny

After my last post on intimacy at age 40 I had another "Damn I must be getting Old" moment.

One of my coworkers is 26 years old and very nice. She is one of the few people I actually like at my job.

This week her husband came home after three months offshore and she took a day off to stay at home and "Get it on" with him.

Maybe I am jealous.
Maybe I am just old.
I can't for the life of me figure out why I think she is irresponsible for doing this.

But that is the way I feel.

Intimacy

This is going to be a funny question, but being my age (40ish) I have questions that I just can't answer.

What is up with sex these days?

Am I the only who has hit this age and started to roll their eyes?

Some days it is almost as if sex isn't worth the trouble, in fact it seems to be more trouble than it is worth.

Is this an age thing or am I just dealing another kind of blah blah blah?

Where we are going

I blog elsewhere, but none of my blogs are as secret or anonymous as this one.
After reading my friend's new blog I have decided to really do what I wanted to do here.

So here is my plan.

1) Post here at least twice a week.
2) Build a good group of links and readers
3) Tackle tough/embarrassing topics that I want to talk about
4) Keep posting old poetry
5) Keep writing new stories and snippets and posting them here.

So, stay tuned and lets hope I keep up and get new friends. My old friends are great, but lets get the ball rolling.

Accounting

Another Oldie from about 1985 or so.

Accounting

Living,
Day to day
Loving,
Moment to moment
Wondering,
Of what tomorrow brings

Knowing,
Of a future
Hoping,
For a chance
Giving,
a soul for love

Meds Update

I am now a full week off Lexapro due to my crappy insurance and a Doctor's office that is pissing me off.

Good news is that I am doing GREAT.

I got on the stuff because my daily life had become one giant anxiety attack which in turn was leading me towards depression. Or the depression was turning my daily life into one giant anxiety attack.

Either way, I can sleep at night.
I am feeling great.

No more anxiety, for now.
But I am trying not to think that way.

I am feeling good

Update

Me?
I am doing great.
Sorry I haven't been here or at your blogs lately.

My biggest gripe now is that after a wonderful month of free samples, my insurance won't cover my lexapro.
BULLSHIT.

My Dr. is pissed.
I am pissed.

Now I am almost a week without meds and nothing is getting done.

Of course this worries me, but what the hell, problems are nothing new.
My main worry is that I am doing GREAT and I don't want to backslide.

Dr said probably only about 6 months total on the Lexapro before he weans me off.
Which sounds good, but I don't a crash ending after one month is what he wants or what is good for me.

Stay tuned.

Dead Man Walking

Dead man walking
Or at least his shoes
Tip, tap, tippy toe
Brown and shiny
And away they go.

Dead man walking
Or at least his shoes
Slip, slap, tippy toe
Old, but new
And on with the show

Revelation

For only so long
Can a soul walk the edge
Treading in the shadows
Never stepping into the darkness
Looking for Hope

For there can come a time
When the darkness is too strong
The soul becomes too weak
For once the lure of the light is gone
And one must surrender to the dark

Relief

Dr was good
I got meds to help me sleep and meds to help with the overload.

We had a long talk and was told that it is normal what is happening and why.
Of course I am not completely thrilled about some of my meds, but he figures 3 months tops for them.

7-14 days before they kick in.

I am actually having a pretty good day considering it all

Good News

I found out that I could make an appointment with my dr. over the net.
No talking to receptionists who don't need to know my issues.

Yeah HOOOOOO
I am going to the Dr.
IF I don't, I feel like I am going to explode.

How do you tell your Dr. that you think you are depressed?
Not sad, but really nasty depressed?

The anxiety attacks have been going on for months, but now it has gotten to a new level.
I don't sleep normally.
I have no appetite.
Moody doesn't even describe me.
I take pleasure in nothing.

Worst of all it sucks.
Bad.

I just don't know how to fix it or how to ask the Dr. to fix it.

I just want it go away.

Friends

It just hits me sometimes.
I want a best friend.
A person who I can share secrets with, laugh with, drink a beer with, go to a strip club with.

The misses fits some of these and I used to have friends that met all the others.
I guess it is getting older.

I thought I had a best friend, but in my book BF's don't have secrets.
It is part of the relationship.

My current BF has secrets.
Tons of them.

I don't think they have any clue that I know they are hiding stuff.
I guess I am petty.

Sometimes you just don't feel important enough.

IT sucks

Daggidity Darn

Yes, secrets have been a theme of mine for awhile.

This place is one of my secrets. A very secret place where I don't spend as much time as I should.

Right now my biggest secret is about my father.
He is dying. Any minute now as I sit here in the room with him, he could be gone. He definitely won't be with us much longer.

I spent so much time hating him when I was younger. My dad was from a far different generation and he rode me hard. I didn't get it then.

As I got older, I got it. I understood him. I think he understood me. I know he was proud of me. I just hope that he is proud of me.

The secret is simple.
I am scared.
I have to be the strong one for my family.
My mom in on edge and having difficulty making choices.
I don't want to loose my father, but I am and soon.
I am scared to death of this.

No matter how we got along, I always knew he was there.
Soon he won't be and I am terrified.

My biggest secret is that I don't know if I am going cry.
There is something so wrong with me at times.
I just can't cry anymore.

I remember the last time I did.
As I drove home from the lawyer's office with my final divorce decree.
I bawled for and hour.
I have never cried since.

OH, I have other secrets, but they seem so silly right now.

Tired

All I want is a little time to read and write.
Just a few short hours to myself to hammer on the keyboard and see what I can put together.
Rewriting my story that I shared here has bitten me with the bug.
Maybe just short blurbs for a while.

Other than that, I am tired.
Sometimes it is so hard being normal.
That is the hard part of being normal in the inside, but strange on the inside.

How about a question?

Have you ever shared your deepest secret?
Ever pulled your mask off at midnight to show your secret identity to a stranger?

Sorry

It has been a while, but life catches up in a bad way sometimes.
I am writing, but not much. Too busy, which really sucks.

Secrets though.

What to tell and what to keep inside.

Some are easy.
I am full of work secrets.
Everyone shares because I keep quiet.

I tell them at home.

What about MY secrets, that I don't tell at home or work?
Tell them here?

Secrets are often time memories.
Many of them interesting, titillating, some are down right surprising.
Part of what makes some memories so intense and personal is their secrecy.
Does it take some of their magic away if you share?

Answering questions with questions, what have I come to?

Anyone have secrets they want to share?
I like the Postsecret blog.
I have almost sent one in several times.

has anyone done that?

Wandering and wondering minds want to know.

Secrets

My head is full of tiny little scecrets

All running round in there

Little things that people tell me

Little things I cannot share

I smile and dance the secret dance

As they crash around in there

Bouncing off my brains

And tickling the roots of my hair

Sometimes it gets so full

I wish that I could share

Spilling some of the things that I know

As if I didn’t care

Links?

Anyone have any good links from other writer's blogs?
I am trying to keep this place up to date and interesting.
Plus, I might want to do some reading !!!!

Send me your links.

It feels good

It felt good to write again.
To reach deep down inside and write what I have kept bouncing around in my brain.

I have started another story that I have outlined and thought about for at least five years.
It will probably come in parts.
I know how it starts, but not necessarily how it ends.

Most of what I have going on in my head are stories or scenes that introduce or explain characters. Bigger and more complex plots may have to come later. I was never any good at them.

Just keep the words coming....

Evil Doesn't Tip

A long time ago I used to write or at least attempt to write short stories. My goal was to maybe one day write a novel of some sort. I don’t do well with reality so I mainly tried my hand at fantasy or science fiction of some sort.

In fact, the name of this blog comes from an idea I had for a series of short stories based around a couple of characters.

The Savage Garden was a world much like our own. The only difference was that the shadows were a little longer, the nights a bit darker, and fears were much more real.

Kind of an X-Files meets Dark Shadows or something. A normal world with a hidden undercurrent of magic and evil.

I couldn’t find the original story I wanted, so I had to rewrite it from memory. Please be kind.

My memory is not what is used to be and my mastery of the words if far from what it once was.

Evil Doesn't Tip

Poetry again, kinda

I was listening to this Concrete Blonde song last night and it made me think of my father's situation.

It is complete now the two ends of time are neatly tied
A one-way street, she's walking to end of the line
And there she meets the faces she keeps in her heart and mind

They say 'good bye' Tomorrow, Wendy, is going to die,
They say 'good bye' Tomorrow, Wendy, is going to die,

Underneath the chilly gray November sky
We can make believe that Kennedy is still alive and
Were shooting for the moon and smiling Jackie's driving by and

They say 'good try'
Tomorrow Wendy is going to die
Tomorrow Wendy is going to die

I told the priest, Don't count on any second coming
God got his ass kicked the first time he came down here slumming
He had the balls to come, the gall to die and then forgive us
No, I don't wonder why, I wonder what he thought it would get us
Hey, hey, good bye
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die

Hey, hey, good bye
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die

Only God says jump
So I set the time
'Cause if he ever saw her
It was through these eyes of mine!
And if he ever suffered it was me who did his crying

Hey hey, good bye
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
(Tomorrow Wendy's going to die)
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
(Tomorrow Wendy's going to die)
Tomorrow Wendy'd going to die

Hey, hey, good bye
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die

Hey, hey, good bye
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
Tomorrow Wendys going to die


I wish I could put words together like that again.
I know I keep saying I am going to try, but I just can't seem to reach inside and find them.

Me

Once around here I mentioned the three me.

The Work Me
The Home Me
The Me Me

They all go together in a strange way to make the One Me.
I don't have complete control over the Home Me. That one is hard to swallow. As a husband and father I am expected to do and act certain ways. I do step outside the bounds, but not far. In some ways, the Home me is the most disappointing aspect of me. Sometimes I worry that this part will smother out the other two.

The Work me is a strange mixture of the Home Me and Me Me. Responsibility and a small dose of crazy go a long way. This is the middle ground of self control. Work me is predestined to do things, but the work me also really steps outside the lines at times. Best of all, no one at home sees the work me.

The Me Me is the part that is all me. I control it. It controls me. No one gets to peer too long and hard at the Me Me because most of it private, secret, hidden.

I answered on a blog recently about the things I feel in control of. I am in control of the Me Me. It is the only thing that i have complete control over.

One Liners

I don't think I can write a whole poem any more.
Hell, the ones I did write weren't that good.

How about one line?

"Sewage headed chimps romping in my brain"

Not good, but the first creative thing I have tried in ages.

Back

I have been on a vacation of sorts.

My father's cancer is terminal. He is suffering from pneumonia again.
The guy isn't ready to go, but doesn't have a lot of choice these days.

It is tough helping him out and taking care of mom. She isn't dealing well with the stress, but then again none of us are.

I won't even touch my job. That isn't stress, but pure hell instead.

I haven't even been blogging much.

I met my English teacher from high school (9th grade) the other day. Actually I didn't meet her, I ran into her. We talked for a moment and she told her companion that I was a former student and a poet. I nearly fainted. I haven't written a poem in 12 years.
What really embarassed me was when she asked if I was still writing.

Damn it.

I am a slacker

Oh Shit, Here We Go Again

This is the beginning of a vicious cycle that I hate.
Everything is good.
I am happy.
Life is grand.

THEN WHAM!!!
It hits.

This has to be depression or something close.

I start with the mental Blah's.
Then the physical part starts
Tired.
Wiped out.
Restless.

Then the mental part gets worse.

You would think that my life is full of crap and horrible things, but it isn't.

Just cruising along and enjoying a few weeks of normalcy and then this hits for no reason.

The thing that gets me is the physical part.
Being so drained that I can fall asleep sitting up in a chair.

It is hard to force the brain into happy mode when the body feels like it has been pummeled.
Pummeled hard.

Back Again

I haven't been here in awhile.
A really long while and I need a break, so here I am in my garden.

There are three me's.
Which can be tiresome.
Very.

I have other blogs.
One is funny. It is my work/friend self. It is what a lot of outsiders see of me.
The other is the family self. Pictures of my family and generic everyday stuff. The things that my family and close friends see and know.

The last is here.
This is the inner me.
My own space.
Where I can be alone and ponder.

These three parts are all separate, just one big mash.
I do know that each part needs its space.

The inner me gets the least amount of time.
I also suffer when the 'me' gets little time.
Me is what keeps me sane.
Me keeps me balanced

I need Me.
I don't know if Me needs me though.

Regrets

Have any secret regrets?

I do.
More than one.
But one that bugs me to no end.

Her initials were LM.
She taught me a lot of things.
I treated her pretty poorly.

Things probably could have been much much different.
I was too stupid.
I was too scared.

There are a lot of times when I miss her.
Not just her, but all about her.

I wish I could talk to her sometimes
See her.

Just to know she is happy

Break is over

I am back.
Took a week off.

Mostly for the worst.

I am probably going to fess up a bit more about my secret crush.
Sometimes it can be down right difficult

Hard
Seriously hard

to deal with

Salty Dog

1. Salt the rim of a nice glass. Just like a margarita
2. Pour in a shot of vodka
3. Fill the rest of the glass with fresh grapefruit juice.
4. Enjoy

I hope my toes curl too.
But, I don't think that they ever have.

I must be missing something.
Maybe I am doing something wrong?

Why was my sip of Sweet Tea gone missing?
I wonder.
And I worry.

Help

I want to sit on a beach and read books.
I want to sit on a beach and drink salt dogs.
I want to sit on a beach and watch women in tiny bikinis walk by.
I want to sit on a beach and eat sushi.
I want to sit on a beach and nap.
I want such simple things.

Back rubs.
Feet rubs.
Cold drinks.
Warm hands.
Passionate kisses.
Toe curling sex.

I would settle for a salty dog.

Doing good

Going to get drunk tonight
FUCKING SMASHED

Sometimes I want to kill people because of my job
So I get drunk instead

Maybe it will be better then

goddamnmotherfuckingassholepieceofshitcocksuckingwhore.

I had to get that out.
I normally don't curse.
It just isn't part of me.

I am tired on the inside and I look tired on the outside.

I need more than rest.

I need time alone.
In the woods.
With a book to read

Yuck

Everytime I get to a point where I feel good, something comes up and sends me back to rock bottom. It is almost as if everyone has a master plan to tear me down.

As if that doesn't sound paranoid enough.

I would give anything for more than a couple of weeks of calm and happiness.
It is times like this that I just want to curl up into a ball and sleep.

Damn
damn
damnity damn

My Father

I spent Sunday afternoon in the hospital with my father.

We talked a bit and then he dozed off in his bed. I knew he was sleeping since I heard him snore for the first time in weeks. He was out, gone, relaxed.

Despite the hellish racket that is my father's snores, it was good. Peaceful. Things seemed right for the first time in quite a while.

I can tell stories about dad's snoring. How relatives have slept in their cars while visiting us to escape the fiendish howling he emits, but that isn't for here or now.

I relaxed and dozed off in the chair next to his bed. As I said, all was good.

When I awoke (snoring had stopped) I noticed that dad was awake and Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys were on the radio. If you don't know Bob Wills or listen to country swing music, run a search, find a tune or two, and listen.

It is the music of my childhood. I hated it then, but as an adult I have grown to enjoy the things that my father shared with me.

It was peaceful sitting there with my dad, listening to Bob Wills, thinking of how long and funny our journey has been.

I was sad when my mother arrived and broke our little silence.

I love you 2

My original post was short and probably fruity.

Sometimes it is so hard to reach deep down inside and pull things out without mucking them up.

I can and will say this, about it all;
Secret love is sad, intense, and probably nowhere near as satisfying as I want it to be.

Secret love is what keeps me going. No matter how good or sad I feel in can stroke it and know that it is all mine.

Secret love is selfish and that is what makes it feel so good.
It can feel bad, dirty, and satisfying or it can feel warm and compassionate.

Secret love is lonely.
The more lonely it is the more dangerous it gets.

For me, there are levels of secret love.

The strongest and most dangerous is love.
Unbridled passion and yearning.
It makes me burn.
Smoldering desire to stroke a finger or cheek.
Part of me dies when or if the love disappears.

The most fun and happy is the crush.
Just like when you were a teenager, only better.
It makes me smile.
If a crush fades, I can still smile because all is good.


So what more should I say?
Not sure here.

I know my secret life keeps me going when I try and crawl up inside my head and hide.

I love you

I love you
I can never tell you how or why.
The way your skin feels, the way your eyes sparkle
These are things that drive me mad
I want nothing more than to caress your check,
hold you close
To whisper in your ear

Despite my silence
I hope you know
I wish you felt the longing that I do
Just one look
One grasp

one short, passionate kiss
But it can never be

Humping Day

On another blog that I read, someone referred to Wednesday as "Humping Day."
This little remark still makes me laugh, which is what makes it so damn important.

Laughter is the stuff of legend.
When my wife asked me what made her important to me, I replied without hesitation, "You make me laugh."

In my book there isn't a bigger compliment I can give.

If you make me laugh you take away my pain.
If you make me laugh you lift me up and put a twinkle in my eye.

Maybe I am just some sort of freak on this one, but since I seem to spend to so much time hiding inside myself and feeling miserable, laughter is good magic.

And maybe that is the key.
Laughter is magic.
It is something that can reach down inside of us and pull the good out and wash away the darkness.

I have laughed so hard that I couldn't breathe.
I have laughed till I cried.

Thank you for "Humping Day" because it makes me laugh inside and out. It crinkles my eyes up at the corners and makes me look like a fool.

Laughing

I know I promised more writing, and amazingly enough I have been putting some rough ideas down, but...

Yesterday was Sunday....

So,
I am laughing.

Every week my wife's church (without fail) prays as a group for "Peace in the Middle East" and the "Safe return of all of our soldiers".

My problem with that is I have a funny feeling that God knows what is going on and how we feel.
The only way the problem is going to get solved is for people to pull their heads out of their butts and solve it.

It goes back to my thoughts on free will.
God gave us what we need, but most of the time we are too foolish to use it. Instead, we pray to God for help or guidance.

WHY FOLKS?
WHY?
WHY DO THEY PRAY EVERY STINKING WEEK for something that God is probably laughing at us about?
Why don't they figure out the cure to the problem?

The short answer is because they are human.
The longer answer is that organized religion lets you believe that the longer and harder you pray for something, the more likely it is to happen.

All I can say is "Don't hold your breath".

My answer is "Use what God gave you and figure the answers out."

I doubt they will get it.

Spirituality

Hope I spelled the title correctly.

One thing that I am not too lost about is my religious beliefs.
They are actually pretty simple.

I believe in God. One God. The God.
See, that was simple.

I believe in praying to thank, not praying for things. Be happy and grateful, not greedy and needy.
Still simple.

I believe that God wants us to be good, but he gave us free will. It is ours to use, abuse and deal with. It is a great gift, we just screw it up a lot. Freewill is the reason I don't pray for things. God gave me most of the tools I need to survive. Asking for more is like saying "Thanks, but it wasn't enough."

Free will is tricky, but I think I get it.
It is a little less simple, but clear.

I believe that you go to church because YOU want to. Because you value it and enjoy it.
I don't believe God wants you to go to church OR ELSE.
If you are putting of axe murdering vibes, stay out of church. Chill. Get some perspective. Go thank God Next sunday if you don't kill someone.

I think the whole Catholics hate Protestants hate Jews hate Muslims hate Christians hates Buddhists hate Hindus thing is crap. God loves us all. He doesn't give a flip what flavor your belief is as long you believe in HIM.

I think God has a soft spot for Athiests. He doesn't hate them. I think they are some sort of practical joke. I bet they all get into Heaven.
Now things get murky.

I don't know if I believe in Heaven. I don't know if I believe in an afterlife.
Just not sure on that part.

I don't think I believe in the Devil.
I do believe that God is all.
God is good and evil.
If Christians believe in the Holy Trinity, then my idea of the two faces (good/evil) of God isn't so damn strange.

Here goes the big step off the deep end.
I am not sure about the divinity of Jesus.
Prophet, yes, son of God, I ain't sure.

More later

Writing More Complaining Less

I started this blog to share my writing. I haven't really done that yet and I still cling to the dream that I am going to find my old things and share them here.
This has kept me from even considering writing anything new.

Silly me.

SO here it is. I am going to write something every week. Even if it is a paragraph of pure nonsense, I am writing and posting.

For shorting things, they go straight to the blog. For longer items I am going to post them using Google documents and put a link here. This is the plan. I will try to keep to it.

It is Church Time Again

Of course Sunday always get me going. I should probably stop trying to make sense out of religion, but hey, what else am I supposed to do?

Today I got to thinking about learning faith versus experiencing faith. My wife and her family are tried and true Catholics. They have all went to church from day one and that is what is expected. In my view, they are Catholic because that is what they have been taught to be. They believe because they were taught to believe. (this is my view, maybe not accurate in all ways).

I take issue with this. Myself, I am a heathen protestant of some sort or another. I was not raised in a church. No real mention of religion in my family life at all. I went looking, reading, listening, and learning. I found faith on my own. Believe me, I have looked under some nasty rocks for my faith and beliefs, but I still found them.

So where am I going with this?

Am I bragging? I sure hope not.

I have just decided that I am in favor of people finding their place in the giant scheme of things. I think that a lot of people would search out faith and religion (separate in my book) on their own. In some ways, it is almost natural. What I am against is canned faith and forced religion.
I feel that children should be able to explore faith and religion without parental pressure. If they chose that path, only then should things like baptism be explored.

I guess in many ways I am against infant baptism. It reeks of the parents choosing the religion and faith for their children. I can't place why I feel this way, but I do.

I guess where I am going is simple. Does being raised in a religion lead to real faith? I think it can. I really do.
I also belief that not being raised by a canned religion can lead to real faith as well.
I just don't like the idea that you have to have religion or be raised in a religion to have faith. They are separate issues in my mind, but for many you cannot tear the two apart.

Upbeat fun

Okay, here is the link to the original story/text. I am still cutting and pasting it here because it is one of those things that makes me smile. It was even turned into a strange rap/song thing at one time.


Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

"Life may not be the party we hoped for; but while we are here,we might as well dance.

I don't usually like these kinds of things in my emails, but the last sentence stuck with me. Read it and see what you think.

Subject: FW: Think about it

READTHIS VERY SLOWLY...

Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine.?

How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word "refrigeration " mean nothing to you?

How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched 'Jeopardy' on television?

I cannot count the times I called my sister and said , "How about going to lunch in a half hour?" She would gas up and stammer, "I can't. I have clothes on the line. My hair is dirty. I wish I had known yesterday, I had a late breakfast, It looks like rain." And my personal favorite: "It's Monday." She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together.

Because Americans cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect!

We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get Steve toilet-trained. We'll entertain when we replace the living room carpet. We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college.

Life has a way of accelerating as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer. One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of "I'm going to," "I plan on," and "Someday, when things are settled down a bit."

When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and avail-able for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.

My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my stomach with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process. The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.

Now...go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to...not something on your SHOULD DO list. If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?

Make sure you read this to the end; you will understand why I sent this to you.

Have you ever watched kids playing on a merry-go-round or listened to the rain lapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight or gazed at the sun into the fading night? Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask "How are you?" Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head? Ever told your child, "We'll do it tomorrow." And in your haste, not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die? Just call to say "Hi"?

When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift...thrown away.... Life is not a race. Take it slower. Hear the music before the song is over.

It's National Friendship and FAMILY WEEK. Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND. If it comes back to you, then you'll know you have a circle of friends.
To those I have sent this to... I cherish our friendship and appreciate all you do.

"Life may not be the party we hoped for; but while we are here,we might as well dance.

My Favorite Poem

Jabberwocky

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Anxiety is a bad thing

Back in the olden days when I was getting divorced from wife1.0, I started having anxiety attacks.
The first one was terrifying and at age 29, I was pretty sure that I was having a heart attack and was going to die alone in my sister's front yard.

Chest pain.
Cold sweat.
Hyperventilating.
Wobbly legs.

They only got more fun.

Despite the fact that I considered myself a pretty tough bastard, I finally had to go to the Doctor. He gave me some nice pills to take in case I suffered one of those bastard evil attacks.
They helped, on the good days.

On the bad days, I could live in a recliner for three days running. Leaving was dangerous.
It was like a buzz in my chest and a feeling of dread. I just couldn't kick it on some days.
I never knew what could set me off.

I could be driving happily along, enjoying life, then suddenly THE FEAR would hit and I was useless. Anxiety sucks, especially when you or your medicine can't control it.

The attacks went away after the divorce was final. Seems like the cure was to loose one hundred pounds of pure evil.

Guess what.
They are back.
Out of the blue.

About 8:30 every night it sets in.
Feels like a flutter in my chest.
I get restless.
I pace.
It hurts on the inside.
I can't sleep.
Hell, I can barely crawl in bed and remain still.

This is pure crap.
I have stress, but I can keep pussing out like this.
Worst of all I may have to go to the Dr and fess up.
Not a good thing.
I hate telling my doctor what is wrong.
He is a good man, but I feel like a whiner.

That book I keep talking about

Everyone needs this book. I love it and like to read it when I start feeling down. If I were a book, this one would be me.

Secrets

I am not a dishonest person, but I have secrets.

There are things I don't tell my wife.

There are things my closest friend doesn't know.



There are things I will never admit.



It is times like these, deep in the cold of night, where I wish I could come clean.



I can't.

At least not here.

Not with anyone I know, almost.



Even if I should trust I can't, most of the time.



I wonder if others have secrets as deep as mine.

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Saturday

What do people like me do on the weekends?
Blogging is the last thing usually.

Today I had the tires rotated on one of the cars.
I changed the oil in both of the cars.

Spent the afternoon playing with my daughter (16months).

That is what boring farts do, but I enjoyed most of it.

Now I am opening a few beers.
I deserve it.

Then a couple of episodes of "Rescue Me" on DVD

Nonsense in my head

Bloom bloggity
Bloom bloggity
Bloom Bloom Varooom

Not sure where that came from, but it has been running through my head for about an hour.

Blim blaggity
Blim bloggity
Blim Blamity

Letting Go of the Inner Rage

I don't feel like blogging this week.
My thoughts are tired and fragmented.

My boss provoked me into a fit of nearly fatal rage earlier this week.
It took a couple of days, but I let it go.
It is gone
Gone
gone

I wish I had more energy.
I need to exercise

I want to blog exciting
Maybe what I need is excitement?

I wonder where I can get excitement?

The only thing worse than being in a crappy foul mood is boredom.
Boredom scares me.
It often leads to that nasty dark place where I want to curl up into a ball and hide.
I am trying to keep out of that place.
It is far too easy to get in there, but harder to get out

Trees

I love trees.
This tree is in a yard down my street.

Sometimes I wish that I could take really good pictures all the time because some times (always) my good pictures are pure accidents.
I should probably title this picture "Peaceful."

Windows

The eyes are the window to the soul.

Far too often I worry about people looking into mine.

It is dangerous.

Things lurk there that shouldn't be seen.

Not necessarily bad.

Just different from what is on the outside.

Things that most people who know me wouldn't understand.

Things that are part of me.

After Christmas

The holidays are finally over and I seem to be getting away from the horrible funk that was dragging me down.
I am much better than I was, but as with anyone I still have a few issues, but who doesn't?

Hopefully there will be more writing in the near future. I am still getting caught with being back at work and crap like that.

I even have some pictures that I might actually show here. Maybe......

It feels great to at least have a positive attitude for now. I am hoping that I can keep this going.
Part of what is picking me up is that I think I dodged at least one nasty version of the flu this weekend.

Friday and Saturday were touch and go, but today I am 1000% better. No more aches, no more sore throat, no more worrying about infecting the whole house.

Here is to a good week.