Inklings.

Don’t humor the inkling to test me,
Always searching for angles to best me,
Your presence must constantly tempt me,
daily fail on your part to preempt me,
Too pathetic to bend,
Bite at the bowl that’s empty.
bullshit side-stepping,
pathetic button pressing,
Get on track dead last,
Any shot you had to win has passed,
Neurotic tail chasing,
Your stupidy’s amazing
Go long, carry on,
its so entertaining,
Your need to bear teeth,
at absolutely nothing,
It’s so funny,
You humor me,
Not a soul cares,
If you never get out of here,
You made your bed and it’s filthy,
The stench of the things you can’t be,
So many piles of what’s needy,
You think your logic is stealthy,
But your face makes me angry,
I want to punch at you; God help me,
For striking a helpless puppy,
It made me.

Good Water.

surfing-and-thinking“Surfing equates to living in the very moment of ‘now’. When you ride a wave you leave behind all things important and unimportant, the purity of the moment is upon you.”   

 – Bill Hamilton

(And we aren’t the only ones who get it…)

surfing dolphin freaks 2016.jpg

Sea lions surfingSeals in the pipeline.jpg

surfing_sunshine-pac_-norcal-2016

As the season for anything remotely looking like “good water” comes to a close once again, I find myself to the shore with an almost urgent pulling on my spirit; I have gotten much better about “night swimming”, and don’t partake anymore, unless it’s a special occasion. But, I still have a tendency to be out there at nighttime, watching the water and listening to its many voices sing their’ many songs. I think it is therapeutic for me to dissolve into the sand that way…

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Beach Wildlife:

I have come to appreciate the fact that a huge part of my personal fondness of the ocean and beach is the wildlife associated with it all. Sea otters, sea lions, seals, dolphins (and even a baby killer whale one summer) swim the seas that I love; in essence, they swim the seas with me every time I am in the water. I am an animal lover anyway, but these animals are the sole keepers of a very different kind of love from me – a calming and healing kind (but, one that is full of natural respect, for my own part).

sea-otters

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Don’t Tell Me That.

Looking about this place I dwell,

unsure if I want to face this Hell,

there’s so little here to comfort me,

so many years of horrid memories,

emptiness fills the hollowed space,

thoughtfulness lives some other place,

far from me and mine out there,

they tell me it truly exists somewhere,

they say it gets better the harder you try,

but I can’t believe such an obvious lie,

it seems the constant noise is killing me,

frustration has replaced any simplicity,

the corners have started to fold inward,

on a picture of all my heart has endured,

the faces in the photo have disappeared,

the colors are faded and inevitably smeared,

likened to my own reflection,

without strength and no direction,

I often hope that I am the crazy one,

who should be put away in locked asylum,

that would explain so much of my pain,

I could finally embrace all that’s insane,

they say when someone is that far gone,

there’s no telling them when they are wrong,

“crazy people don’t consider being mad…”

said the most discouraging shrink I ever had.

 

 

“For No Reason”.

Recently, I have been experiencing the old feelings and fears again “for no reason”, according to “Dr. Quackenfuck”…my blood pressure has risen to the terrifyingly high level again; my chest feels as if it’s been cinched inside of a medieval vice or something; even when I’m sitting on my ass and doing nothing – I can’t catch my breath to save my Life.
I am fully aware of the need for those in any medical profession (especially psychology or the like) to resort to the use of the term “for no reason” when they are unable to conclude any other reasonable cause for a given symptom – they have been doing that to me all along because they refuse to accept the REALITY that maybe I’m just simply beyond “fixing”. What the fuck are you supposed to do when your shrink has more faith in your mental state than you do, even deep down when nobody’s looking?
Life, for me, has come once again to a crossroads apparently…one in which I’m facing a decision between sanity and none – between survival and death – between will and abandon. I harbor this strange and indescribable notion lately that I have completed certain things that were necessary to complete prior to any absence of my future presence. I know that sounds drastic and it’s not meant to; I am NOT reaching out for help during a suicidal spiral through this post, I swear. I am stating what’s what – for me as much as it can be for the entertainment of anyone reading this…
I am confused and kinda angry lately; been spitting at the Gods often and cursing their’ being…I feel very resentful and even bitter towards everything that is (or isn’t) taking place in my life. I am not whining about things not happening to my own liking, please trust me…I am NOT the type of person who goes through Life with high expectations of happiness, fulfillment or, even the simplest of comforts, for that matter; I have learned that Life can be a nasty bitch without a second thought towards my own comfort or concerns. I have learned that the only way I am going get through Life will be via the state of complacency with specific truths; and I long-ago gave up on any ideas or daydreams of someday painting my own white picket fences or chasing rainbows into the future. I am real. I am grown. I am titanium against emotional strife; it’s a familiar element of being alive that I have come to master from one day to the next. Not all of these ways are “healthy” i.e. I am a total pothead (and despite regular poetry about alcohol, don’t partake in the LEGAL vice of liquor), I am driven to be highly physically active to the point physical exhaustion as a means of juggling my anxiety-ridden thoughts and keeping them from overtaking my ENTIRE lifestyle, and of course: there’s always my unhealthy adoration for firearms of any kind (but for stress relief shooting, I do prefer a long barrel rifle).
Anyway, I detach emotionally – I withdraw socially – I become paranoid and fearful, jumpy and sketchy…I become enveloped by feelings of distrust towards everyone I know and care about – young and old. I am a fucking train wreck and my shrink refuses to believe it, somehow…he says I have “no reason” to have the wobbles again at this stage of the game…whatever the fuck that means: “this stage of the game”.
Last time I checked, this was no fucking game by any stretch of the imagination…and if he doesn’t start taking me more seriously when I tell him things so extremely difficult to share with another human being that breathes, takes notes, and can repeat words – – – I will not go see him anymore. I will find someone new to traumatize every week, instead.

DUH, Bambi…

How bad of a thing is it that the most therapeutic thing I can think of whenever I am in the company of my “therapist” is head-butting him until he’s totally unconscious?…like, unconscious for a long time?
I mean, I guess I know by now that he’s NOT necessarily holding a recording device behind his back with every greeting (my own paranoia), or staging a bust with the local psychiatric ward upon my arrival to his office (my own paranoia), or that he is going to “dump me” out of nowhere (my own abandonment issues), or that he is going to force me to sign a contract that holds me liable to see him every other day (my own commitment issues), or that his tiny, too-high-off-the-ground office is eventually gonna swallow me whole (my own agoraphobia and anxiety in enclosed spaces, especially with men). Lastly, I know by now that he poses no physical threat to me whatsoever, but it’s been eight years off and on with him already.
None of these things seem to be able to keep me from wanting to take a chunk out his face with my teeth upon him pointing something that should’ve been plainly obvious to me, in retrospect…I hate when he does that!
Any of my readers know about my longstanding Mommy issues, well – you know as much about them as I do, I should say…my Mom has been acting passive-aggressive again lately to me, and it hurts me when she does that, even still, somehow. Despite all I’ve learned and admitted and accepted – she still has the keen ability to just trample my heart in a very unique manner.
This morning, “Dr. Cluckenquack” said to me in a disgusted tone, “Why do you even allow her close enough to you to hurt you this way?”, as if he were asking me why I hadn’t worn rain boots to his office today (in the rain). I wanted to chop him in his throat right then and there for stating the apparent reality of the circumstance so plainly like that, but didn’t even respond in a snotty way when I stated: “She is my mother, she gave birth to me…she’s my Mom…”
I was spacing out already from the session’s emotionally painful content, so I don’t know why I was so passive in the moment but maybe that’s why…because when I got to work afterwards, I was fuming and super pissed for at least a good hour…wtf??? Therapy???