Just a random thought..

How is a whore any different from the rest of us, really? Every single working person sells a skill.. a whore's skill just happens to be sex.

If you were to put a prostitute and a welfare-sucking mother of ten in front of me, and asked me which one contributed more to society, well.. I'd have to choose the prostitute. At least they make people happy and aren't a total waste of (taxpayers') money.

So basically, if you ask me.. I think Nevada has it all figured out. Let's build some brothels here in California and really live up to our title of Californication. Let us accept one of the oldest professions of humanity.. and do away with all of the taboos that religious war-mongers have bestowed upon us.

When you think about it, people would probably be a whole lot happier if they could just get laid.

Hello Mr. Skeleton.

I see you, peeking at me in the night,

That knowing gleam in your hollow eye.

I try to ignore you,

But I see you still.

With every walking step,

With every waking moment.

And every turn of the head

Only makes you stronger.

So I try to give you a name.

I try to take away the mystery you hold

Above my head.

I look you straight in the face

And I know.

I know.

I know your life

And I know how to kill you,

Even when you seem already dead.

So hello Mr. Skeleton.

I say hello to you now,

I wish you a good morning and a goodnight,

So that I may say goodbye.

And finally turn you to dust,

The way you belong.

Head under water
And they tell me to breathe easy for a while
The breathing gets harder, even I know that
You made room for me but it's too soon to see
If I'm happy in your hands

I'm unusually hard to hold on to
Blank stares at blank pages
No easy way to say this
You mean well, but you make this hard on me
I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see

I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you tell me it's
Make or breaking this
If you're on your way
I'm not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I'm gonna need a better
Reason to write you a love song today

I learned the hard way
That they all say things you want to hear
And my heavy heart sinks deep down under you and
Your twisted words,
Your help just hurts
You are not what I thought you were
Hello to high and dry
Convinced me to please you
Made me think that I need this too
I'm trying to let you hear me as I am

I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see
I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you tell me it's
Make or breaking this
If you're on your way
I'm not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I'm gonna need a better
Reason to write you a love song today

Promise me that you'll leave the light on
To help me see with daylight, my guide, gone
'cause I believe there's a way you can love me
Because I say
I won't write you a love song
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see

So it's here. The holiday season. A time for joy, love, and family. It should be the happiest time of the year. While I try to make the best of things, there's something empty about my Thanksgiving and upcoming Christmas. Something sad.

I remember a time when I was much younger, when my family was able to get together, enjoy a meal, laugh, tease the kids... there's even evidence of these times, recorded on dusty video tapes stashed in a cold dark corner of someone's garage. Those were good times, and I find myself wondering what happened. What was the glue that allowed our family to stick together?

We've distanced ourselves from each other. Some of us have distanced ourselves physically, and moved away.. but there's also the distance we've created due to our differences. Isn't a family supposed to cast aside those differences and love one another in spite of them? Is it so impossible for us to manage this two or three times out of the year? And why? I've witnessed other families do this... why can't we?

It really hurts to not have a family. Even more so because I can remember a time.. when it wasn't so.

From the corner of my eye

I watch you stare.

Existing in silence

Eyes full of violence

And evil care.

You make the air chill,

A presence that kills

The contentment we all think is real.

Do you see what I feel?

Is your presence surreal?

Or are we all out of our minds?

If anyone reads this blog, it probably won't be you, seeing as how you've cancelled your subscription to my writings. All the same, I need to say some things, hypothetically to you. I need to write it down, get it all out of my head so it doesn't continue to eat at me every single day.

It's been over a year since you and I met. There were a few bad times, and when they were bad, they were really bad. There were also a lot of good times, and when they were good, they were really good. And even now, after we've said our abrupt and angry goodbyes, all I can really remember are all those good times. I think it's the good times that hurt the most.

I've been trying my hardest to forget you, and I've managed to push you out of my mind during the daytime. But at night, you invade my dreams. Every night for the past week now, you've been there, and it's torture. Because even in my dreams, you are out of reach. Even in my dreams, you remain disconnected from me, oblivious to how much I love you. And every morning I wonder how much longer I'll be stuck in this purgatory of our affair.

I don't know if you have any idea how deeply I was in love with you. You are my first love, my purest love. And now you're gone. And I know that I'll love again, but I also know that I'll never love anyone the way that I loved you. I gave you the best of my heart, and it still wasn't enough for you. You said that I'm "a good person". That doesn't mean anything to me when I'm not good enough for you. There were plenty of times when I felt like you loved me, even though you said it so rarely. I didn't really need you to say it, because I thought I felt it when you looked at me, when you held me, when you kissed me. I believed it in my heart, but that was foolish of me to believe, right? Because it was never true, right?

I'm keeping myself from ever contacting you again, telling myself every day that eventually, you'll just be a ghost in my past. That I just have to get through this hurdle of a change, and all will be fine. And yet, deep in the corners of my mind, I keep hoping that you'll try to get back in touch with me, though not for the reason you think. I don't want you to come back so that we can try again. We can't try again, that would be insanity. I want you to come back so that I can finally be the one to say no. I want to free myself from wanting you so badly; I want to give myself that sense of independence rather than the scorching sense of rejection. I'd like to finally believe, for myself, that I can do better.

But I know that'll never happen. And maybe it's just as well.

Goodbye, old lover.

Give me a reason to hate you,

Scratch your name forevermore from my mind.

Bleed yourself out of my veins and away from my heart

Suffocate your image until it disappears.

You've made a fool out of me more than once,

More than twice,

More than makes you human.

It only makes you a monster.

You think you're being noble? No, no.

It's been far too long for that, little boy.

You've been careless.

And I wish, how I wish, oh I wish, I wish, I wish

That I could hate you.

If only I could hate you...

This day has been one of the weirdest days that I'll always remember. I don't know what's going on with the cosmos but they are FREAKIN' out.

The weirdness starts at work. For those of you who don't know, I'm a Target employee, I work in the electronics department. Well, a customer came in today, and was looking to buy a camera. He was a black gentleman, I'd say in his mid-50's, and he was dressed in a suit.. looked sort of pimp-status, complete with feathered hat and all. He claimed to work in business and engineering, and that he was on his way to a trial because he was suing someone who was refusing to pay him (which I take as pimp-code for "motha fucka won't pay me for the bitch he had last night"). Well, the camera that he wanted was a sale camera so of course, we didn't have any in stock. I looked it up in other stores and directed him to one that did have it, and rung him up for his items, even got him to apply for a credit card. After he purchased his items, he started looking around at everything, saying, "Go ahead, point at anything you want and I will buy it for you." I tried to refuse, I told him that I didn't want anything, but he kept insisting. He said, "How about jewelry, what do you like?" I said, "I don't really wear jewelry", and he then said that he was going to buy me jewelry. Again, I tried to protest, but he walked away. I continued to work, thinking maybe he wouldn't come back.. but he did. With a necklace, two rings, and a purse. As much as I tried to refuse the gifts, he wouldn't take no for an answer, so I just took the bag of stuff so that he would leave. Once he was gone, I gave the items to my boss, telling him what happened and pretty much saving my own ass (I'm not losing my job for a couple of trinkets).

After work, I went with my family to my little sister's play, and at her elementary school I noticed a very unusual-looking flower. I wasn't sure what it was, I took a picture of it and have yet to look it up and figure it out, but it was so different from any other flower I'd ever seen before. When I look back on it, it sort of seems like a symbol of the weirdness that was still yet to come...

My friends and I had decided to go to the beach, just to hang out and drink and have fun. So, we all packed into a van, save a couple of spare cars, and went to Venice with a cooler full of alcohol. We parked the van and with our blankets and booze, trekked out onto the beach, right up along the shoreline. We sat there, drinking and laughing, pretty much having fun. Well, a certain friend who shall remain unnamed took about five shots of vodka and was unable to handle it very well. He was doing just fine but I think it hit him pretty suddenly. He had gotten up to pee and when he was done he was just stumbling around a few feet from us, before he completely collapsed onto the sand. We thought he was kidding at first, until we realized he wasn't moving. At this point both me and my friend Tiffany were pretty worried about him, even though he was still breathing. Half of our party decided that they were leaving, so we decided that we'd just go too, because we didn't want to keep our friend out in the cold air. However, we had a LOT of stuff with us and someone would have had to carry our friend all the way back to the van, which wasn't gonna happen. So, we had the drunken idea of driving the van onto the beach, to pick us up without us having to walk that long distance... BAD IDEA. Yes, we should have realized that driving a two-wheel drive van onto the beach would indeed succeed only in getting STUCK. No matter how much we tried to dig the sand, or put planks beneath the tires to get out, it didn't work. We had to use a friend's AAA card in order to call a tow truck to pull us out of the sand.

There were some other happenings of the night which were pretty unusual, but for the sake of avoiding any animosities or hostility for having mentioned it, I'll keep these things to myself with only one thought in regards to all of the happenings of this entire day...

People are sometimes strange and often stupid, but a mixture of the two makes for one hell of a rocky road.