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Dark Days Postponed

"Hello again."

"What? Where the bloody hell have you been?"

"Well I've visited Sheol, Gehenna, Tartarus, Hades, Abaddon, and Infernus. Been to Xibalba, Metnal is nice this time of year. Stopped in at Naraka, Di Yu, and Jigoku. Told Yama you said hello, Yami is looking splendid but she's been a real bitch lately. Quick stop over at Dante's to talk shop and here I am back where I belong, right as rain. Why? Did I miss anything?"

"Hob's gotten a little out of hand."

"Oh dear. Good thing I'm back then."

Last nights shivers and twitches turned into an all out fever at some point. I was bleeding again and my head still hurt. But when I finally passed out sometimes past three this morning I did so with all sorts of things running through my mind.

The last few nights things have been particularly tough. When I'm balanced The Voices all sound like me, I may not have as much control over them as I do with my other thoughts, but I know that they're really just more random thoughts. When I'm off they take on a life of their own, they ramble and warble and talk to each other. They argue. They fight. They taunt me. But even then they don't scare me. I'm still in there, I still have some semblance of control. It may be a circus, but I'm the ringleader. And, for the most part, they still sound like me. But...when I'm tired, when I'm on the verge of sleep, everything changes. The voices aren't my own, some are people I know. Some are strangers. And it's horrible. That's when the noises come. Loud thundering footsteps, metal grinding on metal, bellowing horns, huge crashing thuds, and something that sounds like wet burlap being torn apart. It's terrifying. And it happens almost every single god damn night when I try and get to sleep. Sometimes it's short and merciful, other times it's not.

So last night as I tried to get to sleep, so many things already beating on me, already feeling sick and being about as tired as I've ever been, I just wasn't ready for it when it started. And then something funny happened. Just as the screaming started, just as the bellows started to well up in the distance, a single loud voice raised up above all the rest and shouted, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" And suddenly everything went quiet, and a moment later I drifted quite peacefully off to sleep.

When I woke up a few hours later I still felt like shit. I was still exhausted, my entire body was sore, and it took a great deal of effort just to move. I called into the office and told them I wouldn't be in till later this afternoon and went back to bed just to lay down for awhile. To gather myself. And as I lay there something dawned on me, the dark cloud which has hovered over me for the past several days has lifted. I'm still a mess, but I'm slightly less of a mess. I can handle certain things that need to be handled right now. I'm ready to deal with the devil, and make sure that I come out on top.

It is The Old Ghosts day afterall, and it would seem that this time they're working with me instead of fighting against me.

Surprise, surprise.

Happy Halloween.

Dark Days Interrupted

I'm a little shaky this evening. Not that anything's wrong. Nothing's wrong at all actually. Today was, up to this point, a very easy day. I've only been at work for about eight hours and I'll probably be leaving soon. I haven't done...well, I haven't done anything today. There are a few things I need to do and I'm sure I'll get to them all before I leave, but up till now, I actually haven't done a single bit of work since getting here this morning. (This may be a slight exaggeration, I've actually done several things, but nothing substantial)

I got a lot done these past few days but the truth is I'm just in no condition to work right now. I've totally lost my mind. I've been sitting here for hours, my palms sweating, my legs shaking, my head just spinning. Totally losing my shit. I don't know if anyone has noticed or not, but the fact that I'm still here right now is a god damn miracle. This is all, of course, compounded by the fact that there is absolutely nothing wrong right now.

At some point soon I have to say goodbye to someone...

(Ok real world interruption for a moment. I don't know what the hell is going on here, but someone doesn't want me publishing this post. First I was interrupted by a skitzo automated phonecall and then when I tried to publish the entire middle part of the post [the part that would have been here] was gone. Funny part the automated phonecall was all screwy and another auto voice came on and said "This message could not be delivered to its intended recipient. Goodby." F'in prophetic man. I'll rewrite this one tomorrow. Goodnight.)


The Dark Days are coming.

That's Some Fucked Up Kind of Happy

"Come on, we have to go."

"In a minute."

"We really have to go."

"Ok. Just let me ask you something first."

"Sure."

"You've known me for a long time. Have you ever seen me like this?"

"Like what?"

"Happy."

Part Seven: Our Hero Consumed

Snow Dreams
It started a little over a week ago. It was late, I was tired. It was warm enough that I had the windows open as I drove down the street.

And suddenly it was snowing.

At first I was certain there was nothing else it could be. And then the logical part of my mind pushed the sleep deprived slightly addled part of my mind off to the side and took over. I checked the temperature it was well above fifty. I looked around for trees or shrubs that could be shedding pollen or white petals. I tried to see if there was anything else the 'snow' could be. But there wasn't. And then as I watched the 'snow' grew thinner and soon began to give off an ephemeral glow. And as quickly as it had come, it was gone. There was no trace of it on the ground, neither dampness nor a chill in the air. Just nothing. And in the dark of the warm slow night I simply drove on.

It's happened twice since then. Each time a quick impossible storm. Each time a delusion which melted away into nothingness.

Mon-Daze: By The Power of Grayskull

"You've got to ask yourself that question though. What do you do when I become dangerous?"

"We won't let that happen."

"But..."

"Then I'll do what I have to do."

Everybody remembers He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. Even if you were already old or not even born yet you remember He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. It aired on WNEW Channel 5 here in New Jersey (it actually came on a few years before WNEW became the flagship channel of Fox: WNYW Fox 5.) Lots of people remember that the next big cartoon on Fox 5 was the Rankin-Bass produced Thundercats. Rankin-Bass were the guys who did the old stop motion holiday cartoons and that god awful Hobbit cartoon in the late 70's. Very few people remember that the follow up to Thundercats was the Rankin-Bass produced Silverhawks featuring the voice of the late great Bob McFadden (He voiced Snarf in Thundercats and lived for many years in Leonia, NJ). Silverhawks never did all that well. It was about these astronaut types in the 29th century who were given metal bodies and hawk wings to stop organized crime in the Galaxy of Limbo. And in a lot of ways that explains why it never did that well. I only mention it because as I go back through my childhood I remember a singular and disturbingly traumatic incident involving a first edition Silverhawks action figure of the character The Copper Kid. It was this little copper looking action figure with a metallic finish. They were tough to find, so when I finally got mine I was thrilled. Then someone got yogurt on it, and it ate right through the copper finish like it was acid. I remember this because the weekend I got that action figure (and it got damaged) my mother and aunt took my grandfather to a Frank Sinatra concert and left us with my Godfather and his wife. They didn't have any kids, so they didn't really know what to do with us. I was six my brother had just turned four and in one of the most embarrassing moments of my childhood they made us take our bath together. This isn't something unusual with small kids at all, but at six I already felt (and often acted) like a middle aged man and to be forced to endure the indignity of bathing in the same tub as my little brother was mortifying. What's worse even then Tim and I fought like little bastards so they were afraid to leave us alone for fear I would drown the little fucker and thereby save my self years of annoying bullshit. They stood in the doorway the entire time we took our bath. Which just made the entire situation a million more times uncomfortable. Normal people don't remember shit like this from their childhood nevermind think about it on a fairly regular basis. I however am increasingly not normal.

Guttenberg Sunshine and The Mandolin of Terror

In the darkness filled with fear
when neither light nor happiness draws near
do you think of me?
do you think of me at all?

It was odd, but not altogether surprising, that when I went deep into the abyss last night I was saved by thoughts of someone I care a great deal about. What's surprising is that it wasn't who I would have expected.

Exeunt Part Six, Enter Part Seven: Our Hero Consumed

And so comes to an end Part Six. The end of this part has been a long time coming, and now that it's finally here I can say that I'm excited. And scared. And confused. And...well...consumed. I'm not sure now whether recent events were the climax of Part Six or if they simply sealed it off, leaving me to begin Part Seven with a bang. Things which are about to happen will either stretch the interlude between parts out to an unbearable (and likely dangerous) degree or get Part Seven rolling rather quickly. We will see, we will see.

And...uh...yeah, that's all I got right now. But it's about time I got something posted. So...here you go.

Hurt (by Nine Inch Nails as covered by Johnny Cash)

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Swagger

"You kick it like me
no exaggeration necessary,
living revolutionary,
nothing less than legendary.
Gangsta shit's hereditary,
got it from my dad.
Flow colder than February
with extraordinary swag." - T.I., Swagga Like Us

I can't quite explain the series of events that occured in the three hours since I've gotten to work that ended with me going back through a long list of old e-mails and randomly reading listserv posts and notes on long since lost projects from my last year of college. I just tend to do things like that some time.

And it got me thinking of my days at WRSU again, my time spent living in The Birchwoods, and all the great people I met and almost got to know.

It reminded me of that scary time right after college. That time where you're going through a sort of separation anxiety, missing the place and the people who just spent four (or five) years making you who you are. I remember how I felt during that time. I remember feeling like I was never going to get better, all the while knowing that I was. Maybe it was different for me. I've been permanently fucked up for as long as I can remember. I'm used to being randomly depressed or paranoid or suicidal for no god damn reason. I can handle that shit. Not everyone can. Lots of people pull out of funks by realizing that they're going to get over something. You're sad right now? Well later you'll be happy. You miss someone right now? Well later you'll get over it. You fucked everything up? Well you can fix it later. I go into my funks realizing this. It doesn't take time for me to come around to the fact that everything will get better. So I look at every dip as a temporary situation instead of a pit I'll never be able to climb out of. Doesn't make it suck any less, just means I make it through. So even in those long hard months after college ended I knew...it was going to be ok.

Just like I know it's going to be ok now.

The past few weeks have been tough. My head has been all over the place. One minute I'm good, one minute I'm not. I find my relief in the oddest of places. Find my peace in things other people couldn't begin to understand. Hot chocolate, scary stories, cold winds, sweet smiles, the seven foot tall fiberglass Iron Man statue in my front room. Just things. Just enough.

Last night I stopped in to visit an "old friend". We hadn't talked in a few weeks. I was really glad to have a minute to chat. At some point in the conversation she told me I was different. It was probably just what she thought I wanted to hear. But the truth is, and I told her as much, I am different. I'm not the same person I was a year ago. Sometimes it seems like the entire world has changed. And then she asked me why...and I couldn't tell her. I couldn't say what I wanted to say.

There's so much to it of course. Far more than what I wanted to say even. I'm still trying to figure out how to say it, to her, to myself, to anyone that will listen really. It took me 20 years to feel comfortable in my own skin. 20 years to get used to being around other people. 20 years to decide that it doesn't matter if I'm a monster...that I deserve to be here, and be happy just like everyone else. It's taken me another 7 years to get used to the things that go on in my own head. 7 years to fine tune the weapons that help me chase away The Darkness. And now that I've sort of got a lock on some of that I can work on other things. Now that I've got a handle on The Affliction I can try and break down some of the things that really do a number on me. It helps that I'm sort of established now. It helps that no one's really counting on me anymore. It helps that for the first time in a long time I want something. So as I try to gather my thoughts, try to come up with something to say, all I can think of is some advice I've given. It's simple. You do what you have to do to be ok. You change. You adapt. You survive. You just do what you have to do to be ok. I don't live. I survive. I can deal with that because I know...it's always going to get better. It's going to be ok.

Everyday Socks

Just this week I've realized that I only own one kind of sock. I've always thought that I owned two kinds of black socks. One with wider stripes sewn into the top and the other with narrower stripes. I've always chuckled at the fact that the first two socks I pull out of the basket never match. I almost always pull one broad stripe and one thin stripe. Seeing as I thought there were only two types I was guaranteed a match to at least one of them when I pulled the third sock. It had to be either a broad stripe or a thin stripe. So whatever that third sock I pulled was would be the kind I ended up wearing.

Somedays I would find myself down to only two clean socks, and as luck would have it one would be a broad stripe sock and the other would be a thin stripe sock. I would walk around all day agitated that I was wearing mismatched socks. Crazy little shit like that can inadvertently affect my mood on any given day. So just the other morning when I went into the basket to discover, much to my chagrin, that I only had two clean socks left I knew I was in for a long one. Sure enough, one was a thin striped sock and the other a broad striped sock. And then a funny thing happened.

A friend of mine knows this kid who's been in some movies. I don't really know the kid, said hello to him a few times, don't even always remember his name. But the first time I saw him I recognized him. Not a big deal, I know other actors who have been in some things. One of the things this kid was in was Finding Forrester. Now the only thing I remember regularly from that movie was the scene in which Sean Connery turns his socks inside out so that the stitch is on the outside because he says it feels more comfortable. For some reason whenever I think about that movie I find myself doing the same thing for a couple of days. So when I ran into my friend and his friend who had been in the movie I obviously thought of the movie. And Monday morning as I went to put on my mismatched socks I noticed that the stitch was outside on one, and inside on the other. So I took the sock with the stitch inside and turned it inside out...and suddenly had two matching socks.

And that's when I realized, I only have one kind of sock. When the sock is right side out the stripes all look broad, when it's inside out they all look thin. This entire time all my socks have matched. I just didn't realize it. Son of a bitch.

And suddenly the whole world changes yet again.

?

Alright, so here's the scenario that most accurately describes my situation these past few days (weeks, months, years even). Not fifteen minutes ago I had a feeling. I thought, for a moment, that I should sit down and write out an entry detailing this feeling and the minor revelation it brought with it.

Then the phone rang. And I filed some papers. And sent a few faxes.

And now, not fifteen minutes later, I can't recall whether it was a "everything is about to get better" or an "everything is about to get worse" sort of feeling. And the feeling itself is totally gone.

We'll assume it was an "everything is about to get better feeling". I don't know if I can take any more of the other sort right about now.

Little Things

So say there's this thing. It's a silly thing. A little thing. Something totally and absolutely inconsequential. But for some reason...it keeps you going.

A wink. A nod. A smile.

Little things.

But when you're down. When you're almost out. And that beautiful little smile brings you back...

It means more than the entire world.

Clear?

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"Why do people keep saying that?"
~

So I just shuffled through the cards tonight and am already wondering if I've chosen a suitable hand. I think I've found that, if I really need to, I can stop this. I can turn this on and off as I see fit. I can flip the switch and be in a place where this is an ok situation to be in and I can flip the switch back and be lost in the vagaries of the human mind.

Note that this doesn't make this easier. Note that this doesn't makes this better. It just helps me survive. And really, right now, that's all this is about.
~

"I've seen the way you look at them. Heard the things you say about them. I don't want to be them."

"You won't be."

"I'm afraid I already am."

Wow-zers

I'm excited.

Don't ask me why. But I'm excited.

Saturday night's trip to Philadelphia went really well, Antioch is starting up again soon. That's something to be excited about.

Jere and House were brainstorming some kind of bucket list the other night. I'm not sure what exactly was on it but one of the things involved walking across a major bridge. GW here we come.

I've been watching Chuck, Heroes, and Life this year. They're all pretty good. I've also been watching Entourage (eh) and True Blood (potential). I've been reading a few books. Interred With Their Bones is about a lost Shakespeare manuscript. It's good, but it misses out on some of the things it aims for and I'm sort of eh about finishing it so it's taking me a bit. I just finished Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book and just like everything else he's written I thought it was fantastic. I'm going to be starting Stephanie Meyer's Twilight tonight. I love vampire stories but I had zero interest in reading this even though I enjoyed The Host which she also wrote. Then my little sister started talking about it and we decided we'd read it together. She started yesterday but I wanted to finish the Gaiman book first. I've also got a Nicole Galland novel on the shelf that I haven't started yet and am looking forward to since I loved her last two books. I'm also only two books into 100 Bullets so I don't think I'll be making it to the comic shop this week. Probably better off that way. Have to start being a little careful with my money. I've been playing Saints Row 2 on XBox360 even though my internet connection is down. It's pretty interesting but nothing fantastic. Not GTAIV by any stretch but fun. I think I'll pick up Fable 2 this week, Gears of War II comes out soon, so does the new Call of Duty. So I really have to get my home internet connection squared away. I'll probably pick up a copy of The Incredible Hulk on DVD as well. I haven't seen it but am dying too. I heard it's got a lot more Avengers type stuff in it the Iron Man had and I'm excited too see it. In two weeks we'll have a new President elect here in the states. I'm pulling for Obama even though I thought long and hard about going the other way on this one. I just want to get past the whole Bush administration either way, so yearh, I'm excited.

There's some bad shit going on right now. Some stuff I don't know how to square. It's amazing because it's all totally new bad shit since all the bad shit that hit me last week. Yet somehow I think it's all going to be ok. Just a little bit of effort. Just a little bit of time.

And then there's the other thing. My own stupidity has me a little scared right now. Things could get so much worse so very quickly. But somehow I have to figure out how to get it all right. Somehow I have to fix all this. First step is figuring out how, second step is trusting myself to get it right.

We will see. We will see.

"If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you.
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
but make allowance for their doubting too.
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
or being lied about don't deal in lies,
or being hated don't give way to hating.
Yet don't look too good nor talk too wise." - from If by Rudyard Kipling

Breadcrumbs

In The Darkness,
Filled With Fear,
When Neither Light Nor Happiness Draws Near,
Do You Think of Me?
Do You Think of Me At All?

An Entry Consisting Primarily Of Old Fortune Cookie Fortunes Found Under My Blotter While Cleaning My Desk

• People rise to your expectations.
• If your desires are not extravagant they will be granted.
• What is the hardest task in the world? To think.
• The world belongs to the enthusiast who keeps cool.
• You see pictures in poems and poems in pictures.
• You will be free of the heavy burdens your have been carrying.

The typo on that last one was theirs, not mine.

I also found one mass card, two laser tag score sheets (I was first place when I was Batman Red 15 and second place when I was James Bond Blue 05), a several year old postcard from Michelle, the info sheet for Adriana's folder that I handed in several months late two years ago, and a pile of losing Pick 6 tickets.

So yeah..Monday, eh.

Braggadocious

There's something about nights like last night that you can't put into words. But seeing as I can't draw a picture for shit I figure I might as well try.

Last night was something I would consider a rare occurrence. Two circles of my friends crossed and, even if only for a moment, it was amazing and surreal.

There was a night back in college (nearly five years ago now, and coincidentally the night I started blogging) that the WRSU News team went out for dinner and ended up back at my apartment for drinks. There were about a half dozen of us, just hanging out and shooting the breeze. I was sitting by the window when the door to the apartment flew open and in walked Crago. He took two steps into the apartment, looked up, and froze. Then, much to my chagrin, he croaked out, "Chris...you know...people?" Before saying hello to everyone and heading back to his room. Later that night , while standing in the kitchen, he said to me "I've heard you talk about your friends from the radio station but I never actually thought they were, you know, real." It was such an odd event, something that didn't happen very often. Two separate circles of my friends crossing...even if for just a moment.

Then, some months later, there was a BBQ at my mother's house. Some Antioch people were there, some WRSU people were there, some SCRU people were there and my friends from high school and college as well. It was a good day, a great day even. At one point a small group found themselves playing wiffle ball in the backyard, at another point we threw little bits of ostrich meat to a small fox that had wandered in near the grill. The pictures from that day are long since lost but if I could find them now they'd show Brian from SCRU swinging at a pitch thrown by this guy Tim I went to kindergarten with or Julie and Matt from WRSU talking to my kid brother while sitting on a swing set my stepfather built while we were still in grade school or Crago sitting with Nick and Forti swapping reflections from our last trip to Canada...and the list goes on. Separate circles crossing somewhere in the depths of space and time.

So last night while Jere and Nate and House sat in the front row of a big yellow school bus that I just so happen to own, Mr. and Mrs.K sitting with Michelle not far behind them, Adge, Collette, Kevin, Jacqueline, Alyssa and the rest of the lot behind me I smiled with pride, nearly bursting at the seams, simply wanting to shout out, "Look! These are my friends!" And even if only for a moment, I felt like a little kid, immensely pleased with something I really had nothing to do with at all.

Nate and House headed home when we got off the bus. Jere came up to the diner with the some of the rest of the group. And we all sat there and told stories, and laughed at things entirely too inappropriate for a church group to be laughing at. And later, when I dropped Michelle and then Kevin off, Jere came back to my house to get his car and we stood in the cold dark driveway for a moment just to talk. I don't remember all of what was said, we were both exhausted and it probably wasn't that important anyway. But I do remember saying, with a smile on my face and a lot of love in my heart, "How great are those kids?" And laughing because I feel blessed to know that I could have said that two years ago or ten years ago or a dozen years ago when we were those very kids ourselves and it would have been every bit as true.

Ha, me...blessed...who'da thunk such a thing?

Salve

Slow down now.

Take a breath.

Relax a little.

You know it's funny, but if I had a choice I wouldn't have wanted it to happen here. It's not that I have anything against this place, it's a nice enough place when you get used to it. But if I had a choice...

Everything's Coming Up Chris

I am literally holding my world together with my sheer willpower.

Something odd has happened in the past 24 hours or so.

Things have become more...fragile.

I'm watching the ice crack beneath me. Walking ever so slow, making precise and measured movements, very aware of how precarious a balance has been struck. Just wondering what's going to cause everyone to go crashing through.

Say Hi To Your Mother For Me

I actually like Mark Wahlberg. I thought he was good in Boogie Nights, I liked the Perfect Storm, he was fucking awesome in The Departed. The Happening sucked though. Let's get it right out of the way here. It was horrible. And he was horrible in it. I'm hoping he's better in Max Payne. Won't really matter though because Olga Kurylenko is in it and she's friggin' gorgeous. Point being, I saw Andy Samberg doing Mark Wahlberg on SNL and I just about shit myself laughing so hard. I've been following Wahlberg's response to this on entertainment blogs and the whatnot and he comes off as a real dick. Until you actually see and hear him responding and you realize...he's a millionaire and banging a model and even though he feels a bit disrespected he really doesn't give a shit. So here's the SNL skit and here's Wahlberg on Jimmy Kimmel. Enjoy...and say hi to your mother for me.

What Now?

So...in the past few hours more than a few things have changed. I set something in motion, almost without meaning to, and today it became clear that there will be repercussions.

I've been lied to, but not by who or how you would expect.

It's something far greater than that.

The world is changing.

I don't know if we'll all still be here when it's done.

The Flip of The Switch: Or Something Creeping In The Corners

"There's something creeping in the corners,
something creeping round and round
And that something in the corners
creeps with nary a single sound." - from Something Creeping In The Corners

Last night I did something. It wasn't a good thing, it wasn't a bad thing. It was just some thing. I'm not proud of myself, but I'm certainly not ashamed. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, but the truth is it will never really hurt me. It certainly won't hurt anyone else. It sealed off a chapter of my life, one I will be sad to see go. It was the beginning of the end for this run of mine and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I've explained, many times before, that my years don't necessarily run January 1st to December 31st. I think this year was thirteen months long. We'll put it from September to the end of the October, which if you're paying attention means it's not quite over yet.

My 2008 was the year I got to know Hellboy, The Goon, Yorrick Brown, Kevin Matchstick, Hunter Rose, The Samaritan...

My 2008 was the year that Iron Man and The Dark Knight finally made it ok for big kids to like comic books...

My 2008 was the year that I really learned what a frakkin' Cylon was...

My 2008 was the year I roamed the streets of Liberty City with Nikko and Cousin Roman...

My 2008 was the year I found out exactly how much damage a 400 lbs. man on a Slip~and~Slide can do...

My 2008 was the year I met Gala, and Lexi, and Crystal, and Michelle, and Nicole, and Irina, and Ana, and Olga, and Ellen, and a million other women who take their clothes off for money which is one of the most noble professions one can have...you know after doctor, lawyer, poet, politician, mechanic, short order cook, serial rapist, and squeegie man...

My 2008 was the year I spent a combined $15,000 on a bronze statue, a seven foot tall fiber glass Iron Man, trying to grow grass in my backyard, a treadmill, and something I can not nor will I ever talk about...

My 2008 was the year I began to address some problems and face some demons...

My 2008 was fucking awesome...and there's still two weeks left and so much more to talk about.
~

In other news...

I can't decide whether or not God loves me or just loves fucking with me. It's been a long couple of days in quite a few ways and after last night I really needed a drink (but I was trying to stay out of the bars) and I decided instead that I would have some junk food. Now, I've been eating even better than before the past week or two. With the exception of a single cocktail weiner at the wedding and splitting some Irish Nachos at the bar afterwards the bulk of my diet has consisted of bean sprouts, whole wheat wraps, and salad. I had a slice of pizza on Tuesday and another slice last night, but that's not so bad if you ask me. Then again who would? Either way when I couldn't get a drink in me last night I figured I'd stop in and get some kettle cooked potato chips from 7-11 (which are oddly the main component of those Irish Nachos from Saturday). When I was there yesterday morning they had a few dozen bags. I figured I'd stop in grab a bag and be gone.

When I walked in last night, I walked right to where the big bags were...and they were gone. Huh? I walked over to where the little bags were...and they were gone. I walked up to where they had some by the register that morning...and they were gone. I looked at the two men behind the counter and said, "Oy, where'd the kettle chips go?" To which they said, " Que microplaquetas você está referindo a meu grande amigo?" Except I think they said it in Hindi or something like that. But you get the point, so I said, "The friggin' chips which were right here this morning!" The one guy looked at me ands says, "We don't carry those anymore." "Since when?", I shouted. "Since now." Fuck all. I settled for some pretzels.

And finally...

I need to sit down and talk to my father a bit at some point soon. I'm beginning to trace back the paths of some of the things going on in my head, not just to experiences from my past but to the similar problems I've watched other members of my family deal with. When I look at my father and my brothers, when I look at all the men in our family really, I see glaring common traits which make me wonder if we all suffer from the same thing and that we just suffer in different ways. If that's the case then we've all found ways to control our demons, it's just that we've all left our own special form of wreckage in our paths.

I should know, afterall that's what I am.

The Things I Do

Sometimes I wonder why I do the things I do...

And then I remember...I'm me.

The Official "I Need A New Hobby" Post

I'm going the wrong way here folks.

I don't know how else to explain it.

As the days gets colder and the nights longer I often find myself spiralling out of control with greater frequency. The Darkness is not my friend, and at night it tends to creep up on me a whole lot easier.

So last night, well after midnight and long before I fell asleep, I found myself laid out cold visions of fire dancing through my head. And I thought...

I want her...

And as soon as I thought it the thought was gone and I couldn't quite get a grip on what it meant or who it was talking about. There were of course the usual suspects, but with little leads and no hard evidence I couldn't be sure one way or the other. And before I could recover there it was again...

I want her...

And then it was gone. It was new to me, I didn't rightly understand it. I work best when I know what people want from me and I want nothing at all from them. But here it was again and again now...

I want her...

Incomplete. A fragment. Not a whole thought or a whole feeling, but a ghost of thought and a flitter of a feeling...

I want her...

And the uncertainty that filled me at that moment was matched only by the fear which was welling up inside me. But I knew, none of this was happening, none of this was real. And then I knew...

I want her...to be real.

I want her...to be real.

I want her...to be real.

What? No...

There's something...wrong.

Could it be it's not about saving them? Could it be that they're here to save me?
~

In other news...

I just cancelled a shitload of stuff I had preordered for The Collection. Some of it was really good stuff that I'd been looking forward to for a very long time. The Thor PF, The Hellboy 2 Samaritan and PF. Good shit. The Iron Man Mark 2 Helmet. Really good shit. But...I'm done. I've got the Mindz-Eye Hellboy Statues I already paid for coming, the life size Iron Man I already paid for, the Iron Man 1:1 bust I still have to pay for, and a few small Bowen pieces through my LCS. Still quite a bit of stuff...but really just the beginning of the end. The commission is still on of course, I'm $1,100 paid towards a $3,500 total plus another few hundred for painting. Somewhere down the road if I decide to add on I'll pick up a few pieces here and there, if not. Well then not. A year from now I'll be collecting something else. It's in my blood. It's who I am.

I've sworn off strip clubs for now. I've been a go-go bar guy for about a year now anyway, but I'd been spending some time (and some money) in strip clubs in preparation for Sean's bachelor party. Now that that is over there's no longer a need. One of the strippers I'd talked to has started messaging me asking for a loan though, and I almost went back to discuss it with her. Now...I've said it before, there's a single rule, an old New Jersey adage if you will, "It's perfectly acceptable to fall for a stripper, as long as you don't try and bring the hoe home." And of course it's crude and oversimplifying. They aren't all hoes. Hell some of them are really good people. And it's not really about falling for them, it's about trusting them. Thinking that it's anything besides business. So even though I sort of broke the second half of the rule for the bachelor party I wasn't really worried because I hadn't broken the first half of the rule. So when this girl started messaging me looking for money my first thought was "Damn, what did I do that made this girl think this was ok?" My second thought was, "What if she really needs help? Can I do it?" My third thought was, "What the fuck?" So maybe I'll stop by one night to see her, just to chat. But probably not. No worries. I know exactly what she wants from me, and I know she doesn't have anything I want. You can't play the player, you can only play the game. When you want money from me, you actually pick up the phone and make a phone call...just like everybody else.

Now of course my third hobby was go-go bars. Which most people don't separate from strip clubs, but I certainly do. This one is a little more complicated. See I've spent a lot of time (and money) in go-go bars in the past year. Never stepped foot in one before that. It's sort of become part of my self-medicating regimen. If I feel too off I stop in at one of my regular haunts and there's a bartender that knows my name and what I'm drinking, a manager who stops by to say hello, and enough girls that remember me and my wallet that there's never a shortage of people to talk to. If only all of my life could be as fake and simple as this. And then of course there's my "old friend". It seems odd to say but I've known her for about a year now. She's easy to look at and easier to talk too. I don't get any ideas though...not most of the time. She's as expensive as hell, but I'm always a hell of a lot mellower after I've talked to her. It's my way of finding a moment of peace in the middle of a firestorm. She makes the noise go away. But then again so does Captain America, church, the poetry of Dylan Thomas, chocolate milk, trips to Dunkin' Donuts, The Wu-Tang Clan, and fireworks. Uh...I don't know what those things say about me, but it's probably not normal. Despite that all I've decided to slow down with the hanging out in go-go bars for awhile. I'll still go see my "old friend" and if the guys want to go I'll always be down. But the midnight sojourns for a quick drink and a little bit of Eastern Bloc culture are going to have go by the wayside for a bit. Gotta find something else to keep the demons at bay.

I guess that makes the real question...what am I going to do with all the money I don't spend on this shit?
~

In other other news...

I bought the tickets for Saturday for Terror Behind The Walls. I'd put money on this trip being an absolute disaster. But that's not always a bad thing.

Antioch starts up again in just a few weeks. This is the first year in quite some time that I'm not looking forward to it. I'm a little fucked up right now (managing but fucked up) and I'd hate for that to negatively impact my ability to lead. So I guess my short term goal is to get my shit straight in case they really need me. There's enough good people there to step up if I can't. But there's still time for me to get right.

And I'm still eating right. I was going to go off the "diet" for the wedding on Saturday but I stayed on point (fish, salad, pasta without sauce) until we got to the bar after the wedding. There I had something called Irish nachos which was really just potato chips with gorgonzola cheese and horseradish. I'm not even sure what rule it violates, but it was too good to not violate some rule. I need to spend more time on the treadmill, so we'll see if any of this gets me anywhere.

So yeah...that's where we're at today.

Uh...this might actually be the oddest post I've ever posted. And if it's not we'll close with this...

~

"I just opened up a can of whoop worms."

"What?"

"Uh..."

"You just said 'can of whoop worms.'"

"Uh...yeah."


"Were you that retarded when we hired you?"


"No. It sort of came with the job."

They Call Me Mr. Pibb...Wait Is That Right? That Doesn't Sound Right.

"How it feel to wake up be the shit and the urine?"

"Ohhh...I thought he said 'half the theater wake up be the shit and the urine.'"

"That makes no sense at all."

"And what he actually said does?"

So...

The last few days.


Where do I start?

Thursday night I tried to get a hold of an "old friend" when that didn't work out we went on a brief jag that ended with me chasing my guard dog down the street at two in the morning. It also helped to break a little bit the odd sense of confusion that had clouded me for the several days prior. Not a moment too soon if you ask me.

Friday night was the rehearsal dinner for Sean's wedding. The priest was rolling hard and fast and I don't know if any of us really followed him. We hit some faux italian restaurant in Allendale where we had some bizarre conversation with some interesting people. I headed home and started to watch 'In Bruges'. In Bruge is a twitchy little fucking movie that you probably don't want to watch you're totally high, somewhat dazed, half asleep, or completely suicidal. Example:

Ray: Hey-ho. Drowning your sorrows, huh?
Ken: What sorrows?
Ray: You know, being a sad, old, ugly little man.
Ray: [to the bartender] One gay beer please.
Ken: How'd your date go?
Ray: My date involved two instances of extreme violence, one instance of her hand on my cock and my finger up her thing, which lasted all to briefly. [pauses] Isn't that always the way? One instance of me stealing five grams of very-high-quality cocaine and one instance of me blinding a poofy little skinhead. So, all-in-all my evening pretty much balanced out fine.
Ken: You got five grams of coke?
Ray: I've got four grams on me and one gram in me which is why me heart is going like the clappers, as is I'm about to have a heart attack. So if I collapse any minute now please remember to tell the doctors that it might have something to do with the coke.

Saturday morning I woke up early and then went back to sleep. I repeated this ten friggin' times because apparently I wasn't feeling very well. I got all poofed up for the wedding and headed over to Sean's at the last minute. The zipper on my pants was busted and the tux shop wouldn't get me a new one in time so I had to safety pin the bugger shut 'cept I didn't have any safety pins so I had to call over to Sean's house and see if they could rustle a few up for me. I get there and they hand me this big fuck all safety pin and I'm thinking there isn't anything remotely safe about sticking something that big and sharp anywhere near a man's cock. But the other safety pin is all small and wimpy and I don't hardly think it will hold my fly shut proper and I don't want to look like a pansy so I take them both and just keep one in my pocket just in case. Guess which one?

The wedding was great, the reception even better. The photographer was pretty cute but must have decided she hated me right away because she kept asking us to do things like jump up in the air and run down hills, and if you've ever met me you know that jumping up in the air and running down hills are two things that don't sit well with a fat fuck like myself. Then while we were doing the opening dance thing (which caught me a bit by surprise because I don't fucking dance) she tells me to smile for a picture, and I reply without thinking that I can't pretend to smile and pretend to dance at the same time. She didn't take too kindly to that either. By the end of the reception we'd all drank quite a bit, danced just a little, and seen Gonzo run naked down the fairway nearest to the reception and nearly take a dive in the lake.

We headed back to the hotel afterwards to continue drinking. Entirely too many people were entirely too loose by this point. House was miserable, Nate was exhausted, Jere and Gonzo were focking smashed. At one point I'm talking to Gonzo and Sean's sister on the dance floor when this girl who was with another wedding and totally smashed came up and just started dancing in between us. She's dancing with Gonzo occasionally tossing a glance over her shoulder to smile at me, then she starts grinding on my leg while her boyfriends stands three feet away going "What the fuck?" For a moment I thought there was going to be a fight, a fight I would have easily won, but a fight none the less.

After a little more awkward hilarity we called it a night and headed home. All in all it was 5 A.M. by the time we called it quits. Gonzo, Jere, and I headed back to my house where we bullshit for awhile before turning in. Sunday morning we we stopped by Sean's house then grabbed breakfast real quick. Jere was amazed at the cultural cross section which is The River St. Dunkin' Donuts. At some point Gonzo and I had an interesting conversation about the Catholic Church and forklifts. By 3:00 P.M. I was asleep. At 6 an "old friend" called to see if I could pay a visit. I did, and had a blast, even if it did cost quite a bit more than I usually would spend. it was just that good of a night. Another, and slightly less familiar, "old friend" has asked me for a favor I probably can't help with. But I haven't decided whether I should talk it over or just not reply at all. I hate to hang someone out to dry who might actually need my help, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

I got home around 1:00 A.M. this morning heated up some vegetarian chicken nuggets (which are, oddly enough made of spinach) and hit the recliner to watch what turned out to be an excellent (if slightly odd) episode of True Blood. I was thinking there was something off for the entire episode, but it was still enjoyable. I'm still waiting for the show to turn a corner and let me make up my mind about whether or not it's going to be good or not. But last night was definitely a step in the right direction.

In other news...Saturday is the Youth Ministry trip to the Eastern State Haunted House. We've never waited this long to order tickets before but the RSVP process was totally fucked this time around. I'm supposed to order tickets tonight, but it's not looking good. I'm still trying to figure out how to pull this one out of my ass if things go wrong.

So last week I was confused, then clear, then confused again. I may have got square but I'm swinging far more than I ever have before. There's so much going on, but there's really nothing going on at all and I just can't decide how that sits with me. I just don't know how I feel.

So I'll do what I always do.

I'll stay standing. No matter what hits me. No matter what goes wrong. I'll stay standing. And when my back's against the wall, when The Darkness has me cornered, I'll stand right there and say...

My name is Chris Palomba...and I'm still here.

"Think everybody's talking about you
And conspiring to bring you down
You're thinking that nobody loves you
Ever wonder why I'm still around?" - Good Riddance, One For The Braves

...

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

C.R.E.A.M. : Chris Rules Everything Around Me (Or How I Met Brover Cleveland)

VIMH: Is your shit together yet?

ME: No.

VIMH: What do you mean no? It's been like 6 days.

ME: So?

VIMH: So lock it down bitch. Get your head right and your shit straight. Now.

ME: But...

VIMH: No buts. You're in charge here. Not us. We know it and you know we know it. If for a second we thought we could run this shit on our own you'd have been out years ago.

ME: Out? Me?

VIMH: Damn straight.

ME: Can you even do that?

VIMH: Eh, I don't actually know. One of the other guys handles the logistics.

ME: Oh.

VIMH: Either way. You're starting to scare us. So get your shit straight. Now.

ME: Maybe if you guys would quiet down a little...

VIMH: Oh wah wah wah, baby want a bottle?

ME: Hey!

VIMH: Don't fucking hey me you whiny little bitch. Get square. Now.

ME: You know repeatedly saying 'now' doesn't actually...

VIMH: I said NOW goddamit!

ME: Easy. Easy.

VIMH: Look, there are a handful of possibilities on what went wrong here. Let me sort them out for you. First situation, she doesn't love you. Second situation, you don't love her. Third situation, she doesn't know you exist. Fourth situation, in this case Chinese Mung is just another name for bean sprouts. And finally fifth situation, it would stop hurting if you stopped worrying about it.

ME: Ok. I only followed about half of that.

VIMH: Don't worry, you'll sort it out.

ME: If you say so.

VIMH: You mean if we say so.

ME: Uh. Ok.

VIMH: Oh, and 46 across is 'bash'.

ME: What?

VIMH:46 across. Four letters. 'a festive occasion; celebration'. The answer is 'bash'.

ME: But that would make 46 down, 'Our 22nd President', 'Brover Cleveland'.

VIMH: I said it's 'bash'! Write it down. Now!

ME: Ok, ok. Brover Cleveland it is.

VIMH: Thank you.

SHTU THE FCUK PU

I'm going to level with you on something here. Something I talk a lot about without ever really talking about. Friday I went down into The Abyss hard and I'm still sort of in shock that I managed to claw my way out.

Let me see if I can explain without really explaining. (I always find it more amusing when I do it like that.)

So I have this problem. It's a problem I've had since I was thirteen. It's not something I'm embarrassed about, or afraid to talk about, it just doesn't come up very often. And when it does I explain it in the simplest, truest way I possibly can. What it often boils down to is a simply worded singular line.

I'm fucked up...but I'm dealing with it.

It don't let it get to me very often. I can beat it. I always have. Something tells me I always will. But that doesn't make it go away. It never goes away. It sits up there in the back of my mind and leers at me, occasionally poking through just long enough to remind me it's still there and not going anywhere before I beat it back down and lock it away.

For fellow geeks the way I can best describe it is that it's a Darth Vader in Shadows of the Empire sort of thing. Like if Vader can concentrate and focus all the force on keeping himself going he can survive a few minutes without his the life support built into the suit. It's sort of like that for me. If I can focus and push all my energies into it I can beat back The Darkness long enough to survive. But lately my focus has been spread about.

I'm juggling conflicted feelings about a lot of people, I feel one way and want to feel that way, but in reality know that I shouldn't for a number of reasons. My health has been...well excellent. But the most fucked up excellent you can imagine. I weigh 384 lbs. I'm a mass of scabs and scar tissue. I bleed and vomit and ache one minute, and am totally fine the next. The biggest thing wrong with me is that there's nothing actually wrong with me. Which is why nothing makes any sense. I should have high cholesterol, high blood pressure, my sugars should be through the roof. But all of that is good, not just good but great. And yet...I know. I'm trying to eat healthy and exercise. But concentrating on not feeling hungry or not caving and having a hamburger takes focus away from other things and lets unpleasant thoughts slip into my head. I find myself drinking too often and often too much. I find myself spending too much money on frivolous things (comic book statues anyone?) and things I probably shouldn't (go-go dancers anyone?). And without my focus the voices...the voices, they're becoming less and less predictable.

It's tougher to control when I'm in a good mood because I tend to let my guard down. Friday I was in a good mood. I'd weathered yet another hellacious week and come out on top, everything was pretty much set for Saturday's party, I was watching kids I really care about get confirmed, and I was planning on trying to see a friend later that night. I knew I would be getting to see Nick, and Gonzo, and Forti and DC the next day and that was great because I don't see nearly enough of those guys. I was on top...and then I slipped. I let my guard down, and The Darkness came rushing in. So I did what I usually do when that happens and I went deeper, deeper down into The Abyss figuring (like always) that if I made it deep enough The Darkness would lose its way and I'd get away scot-free. But apparently on Friday night that fucker was feeling sort of relentless.

Now I was in a place (an actual place, not a place in my head) that I didn't want to be spazzing in but there was a very unexpected mitigating circumstance which was effectively preventing me from leaving. So it was either do what I had to do to survive there, or risk waiting till I was too far gone to actually do anything. I chose the first road. The one less travelled. Luckily (miraculously?) I got some help from someone who I had no right expecting help from and when things began to clear all I could say was thanks and keep on going.

And when it was all over I stood there for a moment and thought, "How the hell did I survive that?" Which is becoming something I say entirely too often.

And when I finally got home that night I spent a good thirty seconds thinking about it and maybe a minute or too longer than that discussing it with the voices (who these things beat the shit out of as well). And then I called it a night.

And nothing has been just right since. It's like The Afflictions feel disrespected because they haven't been getting enough play lately, and The Darkness feels jipped because it really thought it had me that time. And The Voices won't shut up because they feel like they helped out and everything is just sort of spinning and they all have their own opinions of what we should do next and in reality I just want to curl up in ball and have a good cry because I've fucking had enough and don't know how much longer I can keep doing this except that even as I type this I know it's a god damn bold faced lie.

I know exactly how long I can keep doing this for.

Forever.

Because what other choice do I have?

Shit...

Just going to be honest here...I really should have seen this coming.

Tell Me Some Things

I'm about to go to the doctor. Maybe I'll just get a shot. Maybe we'll sit down and talk. Maybe I'll walk right past the door and keep on walking. I don't know.

There is something I want right now. And I reckon if I played my cards just right I could get it. But I don't know if it would be a good thing to have. I figure it would be good for me, but I sort of doubt it would be good for everyone else.

There's another thing I want right now. A dangerous thing. A bad idea really. I don't rightly see anyway I could get it. And I get the impression that even trying would lead us down the path of evil and great darkness. But...when you want something badly enough.

Yet another thing I want. Yet another thing there's no chance of getting. So I try not to even think about it.

And then there's something I don't want. But probably should.

And then there's the thing. The main thing. The real thing.

And, well, who knows? Who knows?

Could Have Told You That Was Going To End Badly

I don't want to go into too much detail, but let me put it this way, the juice was worth the squeeze.

This was a very expensive, very damaging weekend for me (mentally, physically, and financially). But here I am. Still standing. As usual.

Friday night I went to church for confirmation. I sat with Adriana and we laughed probably more than is acceptable during mass because even though we were in the very back row I'm reasonably certain Father Michael was giving us the evil eye the entire time.

After confirmation I wandered for a bit then ended up stopping in to visit an old friend. I had one drink and I knew something was wrong right away. I was in a much worse mood than I should have been all things considered. But I seemed good, which meant that I was already straining for no known reason. There seemed to be a ripple in the force so to speak. And it would seem the bartender was pouring heavy. I can usually have four or five drinks before I even feel it, and I usually stop well before I get to that. But Friday night I noticed drink one. So I didn't have drink two. But I still felt funny. And then, through a nominally amazing series of events...I felt better.

Saturday morning I woke up early and started cleaning. The kids came by and gave Tuck a bath and helped me finish up. Tim and Jere came by around two to help me finish up and everyone else started showing up around four. By five we were well on our way to Palisades and well on the way to what would become a massive bender.

We had dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings which was sort of eh. Then no one wanted to do laser tag anymore so we went do Dave and Buster's which was crowded and sucked. People didn't seem to be having much fun so I rounded everyone up and forced them to go to laser tag (my treat of course.) I kicked ass. We won by a lot. Go Red Team.

By 9 we were back on the bus and headed to my house. Everyone started drinking and smoking cigars. My entire second floor was a god damn cloud. People were ashing all over my newly finished floor. Within minutes the floor was scratched up, the entire place was a mess. Everyone was drunk.

Then the girls showed up.

They were supposed to be there for an hour or so. That's what we "budgeted" for. That's what I collected for (we even came up short for that though). They ended up being there for a little over three and a half hours. Which all ended up coming out of my pocket. They were nice, but I sure as hell won't be using them for the next bachelor party.

At 2 the bus was running and people were starting to go. I took care of the girls and looked out the window to find my neighbors talking to all my thoroughly inebriated friends. I ran downstairs to intervene, but it turned out they were just shooting the shit and being really cool. Luckily they left about ten seconds before the strippers came downstairs.

A few people hung out for awhile. I assessed the damage and began to clean up a little. Turns out my Bose Portable Soundock was busted, my newly painted walls were all marked up, my newly finished floor was all scratched, somebody puked in the kitchen, and at least two doors were broken (although we're not quite sure how). We called it a night at 5 a.m. I was up at ten to drive Sean home, stop at Dunkin' Donuts for a hot chocolate, and check in at the yard. All in all it was a good night...I mean hell, everyone survived afterall.

"Do you know what they call it when exactly what you want is exactly what you need but when you get it you're still not happy with it?"

"What?"

"Greed."
~

"You were totally fucking obnoxious."

"I wasn't obnoxious."

"Yes you were."

"I didn't say anything obnoxious."

"You find me a single situation of the phrase 'one in your mouth and one in your ass' being used in polite fucking conversation and I'll fucking die of disbelief."
~

"Dude it'll be great, I can be back in fifteen minutes with four girls who will do whatever you want for $50."

"Aren't you a cop?"

"Yeah."

"Is there such a thing as self-entrapment?"
~

"You know things are getting out of hand when your kid brother manages to insult a professional stripper and a bondage porn star within a period of three minutes."
~

"In ten years none of them have changed at all."

"Nope...but you have to ask yourself, is that really such a bad thing?"

Is It Bad?

Is it bad that in the next several hours I will purchase enough large alcohol to intoxicate an entire frathouse, go to church for a confirmation mass, and track down a stripper for tomorrow night's party? And is it bad that I have $1,000 in singles in my car? And is it bad that...oh fuck it, it's bad. I know.

Whaddya gonna do, eh?

The Voices: Part 1

This is part of a rather serious entry I've been working on for a little while. Right now that part's not ready, but this is coming out so well I thought I would post a rough draft right now. This is Part 1 of 3 (plus a conclusion) that I'll post over the next few weeks.

I hear voices. Lots of crazies hear voices. But I name mine. Get to know them. Have in depth discussions with them about the way things are going and the way things may begin to go. When one of them goes away I very often miss them, and when they return we often find ourselves overjoyed to have "run into each other" again. You really want to know how fucked up I am? My voices don't just talk to me, they talk to each other. You don't really know madness until you're a second party to multiple conversations taking place inside your head all at once. And they talk about the dumbest things you could imagine. I absolutely loathe small talk. So imagine how mortifying it is to be engaged in small talk with yourself on a near constant basis. ("The weather's awfully nice today Jack." "Yes, I wish this fat fuck would get outside more don't you Thomas?")

Worse sometimes I think something and I can't tell if it was me thinking it or one of them saying it. I hear in my head, "I really miss lemon meringue pie." And I have to pause for a second because I know that I never liked lemon meringue pie and I can't tell if this is me having a random thought or one of the others just filling me in on some random bullshit. Now that I think about it the very fact that I often refer to them as "the others" while being full aware of the fact that they don't exist is probably a pretty good sign that I'm losing my mind.

The other day I saw something happen on the street and I thought, "I wish Lazzy had been here to see that." Before slowing down long enough to realize that there is no Lazzy. So sure he would have said something funny or stupid if he'd been real...but he's not. He's a fucking voice inside my head, he would have taken no more joy from the incident than I did.

When repeating something I often attribute it to them (anyone who reads this regularly knows the wit and wisdom of Hob, the melancholy musings of Rigby, and the occasional acid wit that spews forth from the noexistent mouth of Lazarus P. Jones). It's not like I don't know it was really me that said or thought these things, it's just I can't quite get my head around the fact that the voices in my head so very often sound so very different from me.

I've always wished, that even for a second, I could hear how other people think. Not what they're thinking about, not what they think of me, but how they think. Do they're thoughts sound like mine? Is any of this normal? Is there really something all that wrong with me? But alas I can't, and answers elude me for yet another day...

To Be Continued...