Muse

Muse /myuz/ –noun
1.
Classical Mythology.
a.
any of a number of sister goddesses, originally given as Aoede (song), Melete (meditation), and Mneme (memory), but latterly and more commonly as the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne who presided over various arts: Calliope (epic poetry), Clio (history), Erato (lyric poetry), Euterpe (music), Melpomene (tragedy), Polyhymnia (religious music), Terpsichore (dance), Thalia (comedy), and Urania (astronomy); identified by the Romans with the Camenae.
b.
any goddess presiding over a particular art.
2.
(sometimes lowercase) the goddess or the power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, thinker, or the like.
3.
(lowercase) the genius or powers characteristic of a poet.

Women. Can't say enough about them. Can't say anything to them. Perfect. Every god damn one you ever met. So many to talk about, so few to talk to. Women. What would any of us do without them?

I fancy myself a thinker. An intellect. A philsopher.

I like to think I can write a little. Not very well. Nothing special. But a little.

And as I reflect on this I realize that every thought, every lyric, every line of poetry or prose that I have ever written has been inspired by a woman.

So yeah, in a lot of ways I'm as every bit a fool as the rest of you.

But I'd like to take this minute while I acknowledge this to discuss those women that particularly inspired me. The women I will never forget. My muses so to speak.

The first one was *****, or history. She was beautiful, they all were, but there was something else about her. She liked the same things I liked, talked to me like she would talk to anyone else. I didn't want her, I wanted to be around her. I never wrote anything to her, never wrote anything for her, never wrote anything about her. But she was the inspiration for my first real voice. The first sounds in my head which forced themselves down my arms and out my fingertips straight onto the paper. Long after I had moved onto my next muse I would see her places. In the mall. At the movies. Driving down the street. She wouldn't remember me if stopped to talk to her. Wouldn't even know who I was. But I remember her, and remember the voice she gave me.

Then came ****, or tragedy. She was young and not so innocent, but inspiring in the way that cliches and great stories are born from. She was Juliet and she was Cleopatra and she was perfect. I wrote for her. I wrote because of her. She did not give me a voice, but she gave me a direction. If had known better, if I had been better, she would have given me a goal. But alas, she left me with feelings not stories, and emotions not poems.

******, or lyric poetry, may have been the first one I loved. Although she never knew. I knew though and it killed me. Every time I thought she was gone, every time I though I would have to hunt for new inspiration, she showed back up and gave me pause. I wrote for her and wrote because of her and though I tried a million times I could never write to her. It was, and always will be, my loss.

***** was epic poetry. Ships would move for this girl. Empires would crumble. She was Aphrodite and Helen of Troy. She saved my life completely by accident. I didn't love her, but I loved her. She was perfect. She was important to me. She was a good person. And for some reason, she gave me reason to write. I hope wherever she is and whatever she is doing that she is happy, and that everything is right in her world.

******** was religious music, and to designate her as such may be doing her a great disservice. She was life. And I loved her for it. The others were reasons, and motivations, and inspirations. She was the only one who ever made me consider not writing just for her. So great was what she gave me.

********** was dance, for obvious reasons. She always got my name wrong, but at least she knew something about me. Everything I knew about her was a lie, but I knew that before she even told me anything. She wasn't afraid of me, but she certainly didn't like me, even though she always said she did. That was her job I suppose. She was very good at it. I never really thought about her, never wrote anything for her, but I wrote about her and others like her. And at the very least I owe it to them to have them somewhere on the list of those who have inspired me.

****** was comedy. It was funny how I met her, and funny how I have to see her all the time, and funny that I feel like an ass for the few minutes that I see her almost every day because the very sight of her makes me forget everything that I was thinking nearly instantly. She doesn't even know my name, probably doesn't even know I exist. I don't really know her or anything about her. I don't even really care. But it's funny, because every time I see her the things that run through my mind are enough to fill an entire book. Someday I will.

**** was music. I'm not sure about this one. It's not that there were not a million others that could have taken her place. It's just that right now she's the one that matches up. It's odd because sometimes you see someone and you know, and then sometimes you talk to someone and you reconsider. But she just sorted out rather nicely. And she has a pretty smile to boot.

**** & ******** & *** were astronomy. Because the heavens above had to be just right to lead three such perfect people into my life. They were my friends though I had no right claiming such a friendship. They were special and I loved them for it. I wrote about them, I wrote while thinking about them, and maybe someday I can write a story for them. For they certainly deserve a story.

But then again so many others deserve stories. So many others who inspired me for minutes, or months, or years. Some have faded. Some have taken back seats to others. Some come and go with shocking intensity. But they all played a part, and for that I am grateful.

Muses, and heroes, and those we want to be. There are so many people in our lives, from friends, to family members, to celebrities, and just those people that come and go that can inspire us and spur us forward in action or emotion. There's something special about each of them that brings out something special in us. And if you're reading this just think, maybe one of these people I have described is you...

Just think about it.

muse /myuz/ –verb (used without object)
1.
to think or meditate in silence, as on some subject.
2.
Archaic. to gaze meditatively or wonderingly. –verb (used with object)
3.
to meditate on.
4.
to comment thoughtfully or ruminate upon.

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Truth, Justice, and the American Way.

It's sad but I remember once thinking that Superman II was a cool movie.


It was the latest in the things I can watch with the kids series taking place every weekend at my mom's house. So far we've watched both Ghostbusters, Batteries Not Included, Who Frame Roger Rabbit, the first 20 minutes of Raider of the Lost Ark right up until my brother flipped out, and the first Superman. We watched the second Superman last night. It wasn't as good as I remember.


I would like to say the last few months have been ridiculous...but the truth is they've just been the last few months. The last post I wrote that wasn't totally nonsensical (relatively speaking of course) was near the end of July. Since then I've used a toast I gave, straight dialogue from a conversation with my father, a prologue to a fairy tale I never wrote, and quotes from entries I never posted. Excellent reading if you ask me.


So what's going on in my life?


First off the summer wasn't that bad. It sucked of course, but it wasn't that bad. Things were quieter without Tim in the office and though my father was a dick throughout I've sort of learned to live with that. He can only get so worked up anymore since things have been going so well. We're in a bit of a downturn right now, but things are still going really well. September was crazy, but through hard work and extreme diligence it was only the second craziest month we've ever had. October isn't going blazingly either, but well, what are you going to do.


Nick's wedding was in September and even though that seems like a long time ago now, I never really properly addressed it. It was a really nice wedding and a really great day. Downside is I haven't seen Nick but once since the wedding which is really strange considering I've seen him on a fairly regular basis for the past 22 years and all of a sudden he's sort of gone. He's been really busy at work and I've been really busy at work and with him being married and all now it sort of seems like opportunities to hang out have been reduced to nil. He's not even online anymore so I sort of just have to assume he's doing well. Upside is I took Michelle to the wedding as a guest, not a date, and lo and behold we somehow ended up dating. Totally her idea as I remind people, I think anyone who wants to be anywhere near me is totally out of their mind, so I take no responsibility for at least half the crazy in this relationship. Just kidding...sort of.


My house is falling apart. I've never been the neatest person when it comes to my home, but I've never been dirty. Cluttered is more like it. This house is getting dirty, filthy. I don't like it, but I don't have time to do anything about it. Tuck is awesome, but he's driving me nuts and I don't have time to spend with him or take care of him. So pretty much all he does is shit all over the place and chew things up. Somehow he seems to enjoy the arrangement.


We went to the Haunted House at Eastern State Penitentiary with the kids from church a few weeks back and I thought it was a fantastic night, but it (and other recent happenings) once again highlighted some of the problems we have in the group. It scares me because these kinds of conflict often lead to people not coming back and I can't imagine doing it all again without everyone there from last year. They're such a great group of kids and I care so much about them, it's just that they all don't seem to care for each other all the time. And that's too bad. We need to work on that.


And finally...


If you've been reading for the past year (assuming of course that you exist) you may have noticed that I started doing something I never did before. I am of course talking about...drumroll please...strip clubs! It all started with a seemingly innocuous trip near the end of last July. And somewhere in there I decided that I liked those places which I previously wasn't that big a fan of. So I decided I'd go, but only for a year. See if the novelty wore off. It didn't. But still somewhere in late August I made my last scheduled trip to a local strip club, and then somewhere in early September a few of us made an unscheduled stop at one, but for the foreseeable future my little strip club experiment is over. So after a year of stories I haven't yet told Julia, Cleo, Nikki, Mary and by far my favorite Alexandria will enter the books as the greatest strippers of all time in my opinion and I will move on to another hobby that most likely involves this, or Halo 3, or maybe even body paint. No...seriously. And while strip clubs are now a thing of the past...Go-Go Bars are still totally fair game.

So...

I feel a lot like writing lately and that most likely means I'll write a lot here, but since no one will ever read any of it...

Quotes from Lost Posts

I've been posting less and less here, but I certainly haven't been writing less. I just seem to lose steam halfway through and relegate posts to the category of never to be used drafts. But, in looking back over them this morning I found a few lines that I liked from posts I haven't used in the last six months or so. So here they are.

Fiction? The world is crumbling. Figuratively that is, not literally of course. A spot of rain on an already dreary Sunday hardly qualifies as the end of the world. So there we are.

2007: A Year In Review? Call it serendipity. Call it a general malaise. Call it beef fried rice.
You can call it any of those things. Even though they'd clearly all be nonsense.
Then again...so is this.

Rapture Hello friends, my name is Christian, and I am an adult...but only when I feel like it, rarely when I need to be, and never in misty rains or heavy snows.

For You And even if you're ball deep in their backside those two words can make it all feel better, "For You." Nobody cares if you're fucking them as long as they think you're fucking them less than you fuck everybody else.

Not Quite Gallows Humor
Nurse: On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?
Me: Not real bad, so maybe a two?
Nurse: Good, good. What does it feel like?
Me: Well, you know, like, if you cut your thumb with a razor? What that would feel like? That's what it feels like.
Nurse: Good, good. Now what exactly happened?
Me: I cut my thumb with a razor.

She doesn't find the exchange as funny as I do for some reason.


Next... Mrs.Reality meet Mr.Mistakes-I've-Made...over and over and over again.

Next... I've become beautifully irrelevant.

Where... Indifference. Another word for anger, another word for loss.

Slippery Slope Finish story. 21 hour days. October Ends. Shot in November. Dead by December.

And there you go folks...

The Good Fight.

And so it goes...

I've learned something troubling in the last few days. I can't get angry anymore. Last night I tried to, I didn't really have a reason to, but I never needed a reason before. So I tried to get angry and I really couldn't do it. I could say I was angry, I could act like I was angry, I could scowl and growl and sulk like I was angry...but I couldn't really get angry.

I can't get excited anymore. I don't look forward to things like I used to. I used to be able to get excited for the littlest thing (even if I never showed it) a movie coming out, a video game I wanted to get, a book I wanted to read. A party, a trip, even something as silly as a good rain on a grey day. Not anymore. I enjoy all these things still, but I never really get excited about them anymore.

I'm happy and I'm depressed and I'm lost and I'm strong. I don't get it either so I guess you could say I'm confused. I'm having weird dreams. But not the weird nonsensical wisdom filled damn near prophetic dreams I used to have...just weird dreams. Last night I dreamed of arguing with my mother about unrefrigerated left over chinese food in a house that neither one of us ever lived in.

"Mom is that chinese food still good?"

"It was ok."

"No I don't mean was it good, I mean is it still good."

"I told you I liked it. I don't know if it was really good."

"No mom, I mean is it still good. Like not spoiled. Not rotten."

"I guess it was pretty rotten to be honest."

"No mom...nevermind."

Then I ate a magic donut given to me by the cute girl from dunkin donuts who was somehow living in the cupboard in the laundry room of this house my mother and I had never lived in.

It was a good donut.

See what I mean?

And then someone I care a lot about just told me something I really didn't want to hear about someone else I care a lot about.

And that goes two ways.

And I did nothing. I didn't get angry, I couldn't get all worked up, I almost got upset, but I just couldn't. I wanted to fight, I wanted to rage, I wanted to do something. But I couldn't. Not now anyways. The overwhelming feeling that I had wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, wasn't confusion. It was disappointment. I was disappointed in myself that I couldn't stop two people I care very much about from falling into the same silly trappings of life I've watched so many people fall into before.

And I'm worried. Worried that they won't get it in time to fix it. Worried that they'll never understand.

See it's not that we were a team, it's that we are team, and always will be. No matter what we say or do. No matter how much time passes.


When you fight with your friends,
you still have us.
When your family is fucked,
you still have us.
When the world's stacked against you,
you still have us.
But when you turn your back on us?
You've got nothing.

Think about it.