Noise Pollution.

 I’m in quite some mood,

the first few moments,

of my day were good,

then the components,

of my domestic brood,

plus the added bonus,

of my own inquietude;


the bass thumps strong,

my blood up too far,

a siege lain upon eardrums,

feeling like a Wild-Card,

a party after Junior Prom,

is where he must think we are,

a refusal to lower the volume,

met my good ol’ trusty crowbar;


It really shouldn’t be,

a thing so impossible to know,

that folks with PTSD,

need to perceive certain control,

when the music level envelopes me,

so loud that my brainwaves roll,

no one should wonder why I’m angry,

and refuse to remove my earphones.









Forget What I Said.

I take back anything and everything that I ever said about the Orphan; he is a user and a fake person just like the rest of you are. I wish I had never asked him in to my home and/or life. And since, I stupidly did – – – I wish that he would disappear now. He is cramping my life and annoying my lifestyle beyond belief, and needs to just get the fuck away from me. I am tired of pretend people, and even more tired of the bullshit small talk he uses to try and constantly sway the flow of any conversation. I hate his presence here – how he only pops up the instant the other roommate leaves, as if to defy my very privacy and alone time. I hate that I once cared enough about his stupid life that I actually worried myself into letting him live where I live…and now, he won’t stop snagging my sheets. I want him to go and be gone, for good.


The noise has grown unbearable atop a fortress’ ramparts –
ten thousand swooping pterodactyls amidst the horizon,
the bantering of all the world’s inebriated sailors setting sail –
the bellies of every monster growling in a symphony of hunger,
the swarming of every dead and gone spirit’s uprising to the heat –
a chaotic explosion from nothing at all into everything there is,
the drowning out of young giggles within meaningless adult words –
complete destruction of the calm isles veiled by smoky-blue waters,
the solitude of confinement washed out by a high pressure firehose –
the noise grows and grows like an ornery, bad weed strain,
it’s rumble and tumble tectonically taking steps towards world war –
plates shifting, funnels twisting, levees failing, babies adapting,
a species evolving to become accustomed to its deafening noise –
a breed unlike the original roots to a better humanity,
the fields became buildings, the tractors drove themselves away –
malfunctioned smart electronics that will throttle our truths,
skies changing into backdrops to a new storyline –
a scripted game played by something or things much greater,
much wiser, much more antiquated than the pawns moved around –
this is the noise, this is what it must sound like to be swallowed,
by an invisible ocean giant sperm whale, inside of space’s vacuum.

Woke Up Wrong.

My Saturday has gotten off to quite the shitty start so far:

1) Before I even had my coffee, my dumbass roommate decided to pop out and scare the fuck out of me – rendering me startled and angry before I even had my wits about me for the day. (The affected throat chop that he received has left heavy tension lingering in the cool morning air, as a result).
2) The remaining female Society Finches (Chewy, Fet, The Crown and Bobo) are still screaming non-stop (going on like ten consecutive days now) and my head is about to explode from the noise.
3) I have people calling my phone before it even hits 9am.
4) I am scheduled to see my mother in about an hour from now.
5) I will be forced to hole up in my room for the remainder of the weekend that I spend at home because my fucking dense roommate has pissed me off – – – AGAIN.
6) The sense of laziness that permeates here during the weekends drives me up the walls: granted, yes you worked all week too…but for fuck’s sake Dude – get off your fat ass and do SOMETHING besides sit on the couch, for once.
7) If I hear the opening theme to Bones, or that stupid ass sample from the 70’s that my roommate seems to think is the best sound ever made, even one more time – KABOOM.


evidenceSome people have too much drama in their’ hearts…not necessarily too much time on their’ hands, but definitely too much interest in wasting the time and energies of others with the absolute bullshit that they consider noteworthy, somehow. I have several key people in my life who are made from this stock of human characteristics:
lonely but unaware of this fact, indulgent in a handicapping superiority complex that is totally unwarranted, absolutely clueless as to the ways of human loyalties, and without a caring thought of anyone else’s needs or desires against their’ own.
In turn, these people have a very poisonous effect on me, in almost any context – regardless of the relationship I share with them or its importance in my life. For example, I have a roommate who is a pompous ass sometimes; he is the one that I refer to as the “good Bunkie” in my blog, a label based on a comparison between he and a former housemate, who was very un-good. This guy is one of my oldest friends and I love him dearly in spite of himself, I really do…however, the older we get, the more impossible he is for me to deal with. Granted, I have my own issues and that’s no secret; but I can say this about myself and my own issues with certainty: I DO NOT CONSCIOUSLY ALLOW MYSELF MISDIRECT MY ISSUES AT UNDESERVING BYSTANDERS.
The Good Bunkie has this super horribly annoying tendency to come home from work with some Gods damned chip on his shoulder about some random ass political or religious bullshit that he listened to on talk radio during his commute home; worse still – he wants to debate and argue over the meaningless garbage with his housemates – whichever one he happens upon first. When he does this to me, at the end of my own workday, I am overcome by an inclination to just fucking bite his face off. I mean, come on! There are people who barely know me that would be able to do that much of my fucking math, for fuck sake; I have REAL PROBLEMS in the REAL WORLD and PRESENT MOMENT…I could give a shit about whatever political or religious horseshit from Talk Radio Republic.That shit is all made up bullshit anyway, duh! Show me some solid evidence behind of the long horse shit that you’re bringing home to my ear, and we’ll debate about it maybe…fuck!

Let’s review just for fun:

1) Do I seem like a fucking church-goer to any of you? NO.
2) Do I put off the vibe that I am a fucking Republican? NO.
(Sorry, to any of my Republican readers)
3) Do I send out a message of being partial to the Rich White Folk? NO.
4) Do I seem like someone any of you would even WANT to argue politics with? FUCK NO.

So, yes…it drains me emotionally when this person who I share hearth and home with repeatedly comes home and tries to start in with his completely disinteresting, circus freak, political garbage debate with ME, of all people! The end result every time is the same: as soon as I recognize his shit, I say something like,
“C’mon seriously? Spare me, okay? I have no interest or desire in even having this conversation; I don’t need this bullshit on ANY day of ANY week, dude…fuck off!”, before shutting the door to my bedroom behind me as I go back in. Now I realize that anytime you have multiple people sharing a living space, things get a little edgy sometimes; that’s not lost on me by any means; I also try my damndest to stay out of everyone else’s way as often as possible for this reason – as to avoid unnecessary tension. That’s just how I roll: I mind my own business.
I am most often closed up in my room with earbuds in; I am typically the “house mouse”– this behavior of mine is nothing new or groundbreaking in my household, either…it’s always been this way. The Good Bunkie knows the cause of my PTSD, and has been more than “understanding” and “supportive”, for lack of more fitting descriptions – he has no appreciation behind the psychological mechanisms involved that have a physiological reaction attached to them – but he pities me because of the drastic changes he openly recognizes when he compares the ME of my youth to the ME that is now his housemate. For someone in my personal circumstances, having a roommate who is also a friend that I have so much water under the bridge with – is priceless; I am aware on a subconscious level that he poses no physical threat to me at any time. This is an element that I do not fool myself into thinking that I could find or cultivate with 9.5 out of 10 males in existence. I share it with my other roommate, The Orphan, as well – though for very different reasons and not as solidly; our friendship is young, in comparison. Point here is that I am for the most part happy as hell with my situation, but when this type of shit happens, it literally drains me of energy which isn’t healthy for me to be exposed to, especially so fucking unnecessarily and regularly.
I mean, I would NEVER go out of my way to instigate an unnecessary argument with him, or The Orphan for that matter…and it bothers me that he, especially given our longtime friendship and his knowledge of my current status in the fucking world I live in , DOES.