Home sweet home?

     When my wife and I split up I was ok with staying with my parents for a week until my housing came through. If your marriage falls apart and you move back home with your parents for longer than than that you can forget about having a normal life or even getting over the fact that you’re now single. It speaks volumes about your mental state and I guess it’s ok to stay longer than a week but once you get comfortable you aren’t going anywhere.

     Some people just can’t afford to move out. This economy is a mother fucker and there are quite a few people who are stuck at home because they lost their job and they’re stuck. It happens a lot and if you have the option of living with your mom or even your grandma until you get on your feet then do it. No one wants to be a hobo. Hobos drink a lot and smell like puke and shit. Sometimes they smell like the inside of a porta potty at a Phish concert.

     I had a lot to prove to myself when we split up. I wanted to be able to stand on my own two feet and show my wife that I could survive on my own and for a year I did. I had finally hit a point in which life was fun. I had my own house. Unlike a lot of people whose marriages implode I didn’t crawl into a corner I remained strong and refused to let my situation kick my ass.

After the fire I assumed that I would move back home for a couple months but the  job I had wasn’t paying enough and I kept losing hours. When they closed I wasn’t at all saddened by it. Just forged ahead and refused to be beaten. I had gotten my ass kicked by life so many times nothing really surprises me. It kicks my ass, I spit out some some blood and get the fuck up and swing right back.

     My two months have turned into a year and there is a great deal I miss about living in my own place. The privacy is a given but there is that ability to have days where it’s totally acceptable to not do a damn thing. I miss strolling around naked just to get a drink from the kitchen. I haven’t done that in a year. I used to sleep naked once in awhile not because I enjoyed it but as a married man and a father with kids in the house shit like that would traumatize the children.

     Just for shits and giggles I used to tuck my dick in and do my Buffalo Bill impersonation. I would fuck me, and yes I would fuck me hard. Without the privacy I used to have I can’t even bring a woman home to have sex with. Do you have any idea how awkward it would be if I were balls deep in a chick and my mom walks in? That’s a relationship that would end quickly. I would even get to finish fucking her.

     I need my own space. A place to put my books and just a place that is all mine. A place where I can sleep naked and just stay on the couch all day. I hate people who can  do that. You are all bastards that I envy. So today I started making phone calls and even managed to look at a place. It’s time to move out. Now the fun here is going to be blogging about these places.

   I think my blog has gotten a little weak since my house fire but I have a feeling that soon my life will be chock full of insanity and that was where I drew a lot of my material. Life should be embraced and sometimes it’s ok to laugh at ourselves. What other choice do we have? Question is am I ready for it.

Memories

       I have been working a lot of overnight shifts. In my profession that means a lot of time alone with no sleep. There isn’t a whole lot to do so you have to keep your mind occupied. When you just sit there and not do anything time just stops. There is nothing worse than a 12 hour shift that just feels as if it’s never going to end.

     I read a lot and this kills a lot of time and thanks to Candy Crush I am never bored. When doing a shift like this you have a lot of time to think or drink insane amounts of Java Monster. The cool thing about Java Monster is that when you piss it smells just like coffee. I love the smell of coffee and piss that smells like coffee is pretty fucking cool.

     Since I can’t watch television I read and download music. The past week I have thought a lot about Pennsylvania. I was born and raised in Northeast Ohio but my exwife had gotten a job in Johnstown of all places so we decided that it would be a good opportunity for us. We would only be a three hour car ride when we visited our family and it would also bring us closer as a husband and wife.

     Those six years were both the best and worst six years of my life. It taught me that when you remove yourself from everything that’s familiar there’s no telling what could happen. It’s a total leap of faith and there are only two options. Sink or swim. Both of our families were in Ohio so we were alone in a new state and a lot of people in that situation usually fall apart and run home. We were gone six years.

     What I loved most aside from the mountains and the people was a little store called Better Sound. For six years this place kept me balls deep in heavy metal. It was there that I found all the obscure shit by bands like Southgang and even House of Lords. These were mostly on cassette but dirt cheap. I would walk in there and come out with stuff that was either out of print or hard to find.

     The reason that I was missing Better Sound so much was because I have never been able to find a place like that here in Ohio. I’ve tried and just haven’t found it. It was my favorite place to go on Saturdays and no matter when I went I would always find something rare. As a fan of metal it was the holy grail of used music stores.

     Now that I have these ten and twelve hour shifts I have reconnected with a lot of music that I had lost. I will never embrace new music the way I embraced bands like Twisted Sister or Ratt. To me music just doesn’t have the same coolness that it once did. No one is trying to make a great album anymore and that sucks because once upon a time that’s what bands strived for.

     Music was something that people loved and saw it as more than entertainment. The bands I grew up listening to and still listen to wanted to put out records they could be proud of. Mötley Crüe released Shout At The Devil and it really messed with your head because you couldn’t really classify what thex were. Sure, they looked like a glam band but no one sounded like them.

     I miss those days and I stopped trying to keep up with the latest musical trends. It’s all bullshit anyway. There just aren’t any great albums being released. It’s all about the single. I miss Better Sound but now thanks to the interweb my favorite bands are just  a click away. I’m not embarrassed by the music I have on my phone and will always have a soft spot for kick ass metal.

     Better sound helped me reconnect with bands like Y&T and Keel and now have a place on my phone. I’m forty years old and grew up at a time when great music existed. I think I’ll stick with what I know and love. It just feels right. 

Borderline Atheist

     This is an open letter to all my Christian friends who have by now assumed that I have gone totally crazy. I realize how random my behavior has been over the last year and maybe it’s time I come clean.

     I should be honest with all of you and even myself. My blog is all about being honest and open and holding nothing back. After careful consideration and thought I felt now was the time to be honest.

     Due to a variety of personal tragedies I have become a borderline atheist. God hasn’t been there at all and the two years I wasted praying and believing got me nowhere. It’s funny how people tell you to trust in God and I found that the more I did the more I got shit on.

     What’s amusing to me is that as soon as I walked away from religion my life improved. I have a job working well over eighty hours a week and I didn’t pray and ask for God’s help. If I had I’d probably still be unemployed. I started relying on my self and it started working better than when I relied on God.

     The thing is I don’t even think there is a God. Forget all the science and other bullshit. This is strictly on an intellectual level. I stopped believing in God and my life improved. I found that my personal happiness was far more important than the approval of some nonexistent deity.

     I hear the questions. How can you walk away from your faith? You know the Bible, you know you’re going to hell right? I walked away from my faith a year ago when my house burnt down. That was the nail in my Christian coffin. It was quite easy to denounce everything I once held dear.

     You can live without God. I have never been happier and I am proof that you can be a borderline atheist. God was never there for me so it made more sense to live as I wanted and to be happy.  Happiness isn’t tied to religion. So many people think it is and they are totally wrong.

     Even though I’m a borderline atheist it doesn’t mean I’m an evil person. I’m just no longer narrow minded and base my opinions on what will benefit society as a whole and not on what will cripple us. Where as Christians throw God everywhere and it always always ends disastrously.

     I don’t plan on announcing my decision repeatedly so you won’t see me arguing with anyone or trying to shove my ideas down any one’s throat. My choices are personal as are everyone else’s. I don’t want to argue and don’t really give a shit what you believe as long as you leave me the fuck alone.

     It is possible to be in love and live a normal life. I don’t question the why of it all or even where it all came from. When I’m dead it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll be lying in a coffin rotting so wasting my time pleasing a God who may not exist seems like a waste of time.

     I felt that I should be honest and I hope that people don’t feel compelled to pray for me or send me their testomony on why they need God. I’ve been there and done that and I am now focusing on living my life the way I want to. I am no longer blinded by the God delusion so it’s easier to find inner peace and happiness.
    
    

A short story

     Once upon a time I wanted to be a writer. I had a lot of fun with it but the complaint was always that my stories were too gross. My ex-wife once asked if I had to be so violent and I guess I didn’t but it was fun to nail people to floors or gut them like deer. I would never do that in real life but shit my characters could.

     I had a wife and young son and I started to have less and less time for my writing so I stopped. When I stopped writing my son was maybe seven? He’s know 19 and I’m no longer married so I figured why not try to write again?

     What you’re about to read is the first story I’ve written in twelve years? Holy fuck that’s a long time. Is it any good? That’s where you come in. You tell me.

     My Darling Elizabeth
     I have been in love many times in my life but none of them will ever compare to the love I felt for Elizabeth. I say love but it was more like an addiction. She was my heroine and I would lie, cheat and even steal just to be near her. A love like that is more like an addiction, an obsession but I didn’t know that then.

     I was never comfortable around people and had dated only a handful of women. My problem it seemed was my inability to commit to anyone for any length of time. I would grow bored, or feel too confined and would sabotage the relationship. When I did fall in love I was always afraid to admit it.

     I had been invited to an anniversary party thrown by my best friend and his wife of five years. They seemed happy enough but anytime I was invited to any party they were having it was always to set me up with someone. It seemed as if everyone knew someone who was single. Some of those woman were lonely and desperate while I was perfectly fine living without someone.

      It took me awhile to realize that they were afraid that I would get lonely and God forbid depressed. They failed to ask and just assumed. They were quite a few awkward dates and finally I just politely declined the offers to be pimped out to lonely women.

      Until I met Elizabeth I had never really knew what love was. I had read about it and saw it in millions of crappy movies but I had never really met anyone that I would die for. That’s what love is isn’t it? That feeling of bliss and neurosis.

     When  she walked into the house she seemed to ooze confidence which was something I always pretended to have. I was an overthinker and would weigh every decision as if it were a battle. I watched her as she worked the room and was mesmerized.

     She wore a black evening dress that ended just below her well  tanned legs. Her face lit up everytime she smiled and I knew instantly that I had to meet her. Why I had never met her before was a question I kept asking myself.

     I had waited for what seemed like hours until I was able to make my toward her. She was talking to an elderly gentleman and like me he seemed almost hypnotized by her beauty.
  
     “Hi, I’m Brian.” I offered lamely. There were a million pickup lines I could have used but they all felt wrong and I knew that they would never work on someone as beautiful as her.

     “Hi, I’m Elizabeth. How do you know Alex and Rachael?” She asked.

     “Alex and I have been friends since college. I’m glad be he found Rachael. She’s really good for him.

     “What about you?” She asked slowly,  “Are you married?

     “No, I’m surprised Rachael hasn’t mentioned me. She seems to think that my being single is like a curse or something.”

     “In a way it is isn’t it? Always looking for someone that totally understands you yet never finding them.” She frowned and looked at me and quickly looked away as of she were embarrassed by what she had said.

     “I don’t know if I’ve ever thought of it that way. It makes sense though. The poets are always saying that love is elusive.”

     “Are you a poet?”
    
     “No,” I responded, “I don’t have the soul for it. When I think of poetry I imagine a guy who has a lot inner demons.”

       “And you don’t?” She asked smiling. I was smitten and knew before the night was over I had to see her again.

     “I don’t. If you have dinner with me some time I’ll show you how balanced I am.”

     “How do I know you’re not a stalker or a serial killer?”

     “You’ll just have to trust me.” The amazing thing was that she did and we had our first date. I asked her why she agreed to trust me and she said that Rachael had mentioned me and that I was a good guy who didn’t deserve to be alone.

     “I was set up!” I said faking anger. The truth was that in the weeks since we had met we had talked and tested each other constantly. My work schedule was insane but her was a bit more relaxed than mine. She was a librarian that loved classical music and literature and I was a lawyer that barely had time to read.

     “Not at all. I wanted to meet you. You seemed like a nice guy but if you hadn’t asked me out I would have been ok with it.”

    That was the moment I fell in love with her. She was honest and kind, and had a dark sense of humor. She was everything I had been looking for but was too stupid to realize it. From that moment on we had become inseparable.

     I would stay overnight at her apartment and then some weekends she would stay at mine. We never ran out of things to say to each other and for the first time ever I couldn’t imagine my life anyother way.
   
      I would sometimes just watch as she bathed or read and I would wonder what she was really thinking. Did she truly love me the same way I loved her? Did a life without me terrify her as much as it did me? We walked often but I often wondered if she was telling me everything.

     We talked about our future but never about marriage or children. Talking about those subjects scared me and she accepted my desire to just take it one day at a time. She assured me that just being with me was enough and I believed her. There was no reason not to.

     As spring turned to summer I noticed that Elizabeth was growing distant. We seemed to talk less and less and she became more moody and withdrawn. I sensed what was coming but didn’t want to believe it or even think it. After a year of being with someone you begin to imagine that you’ll be together forever.

     We were finally living together and my apartment felt more alive than it ever had. There were reminders of her everywhere and even when she wasn’t there I could still sense her presence.  Elizabeth was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

     I remember our last night together and it still fills me with remorse. She was late coming home from work that night but she didn’t call to let me know like she usually did. For the last few weeks were like ghosts who only existed in a space yet never touched. How it became possible I’ll never know.

     She came in humming some old Pink Floyd song and seemed more distracted than usual. “Is everything ok?” I asked calmly.

     “I’m sorry I’m late. I got hung up at work but I do think we need to talk.” Her voice was flat and devoid of any real inflection. It was as if she were discussing the weather.

     My heart sped up in my chest as I imagined Elizabeth naked and fucking another man. There were a million thoughts going through my head and they all made no sense. Why was I imaging the worst? Possibly because I knew that things were different between us and had been for quite some time.

     “Is there something you want to tell me?” I asked as calmly as possible. I came out of the kitchen and didn’t even realize I was carrying a butcher knife. Maybe I did know and just didn’t care. Something was about to happen and there was nothing that could stop it.

     Time had slowed to a crawl and when she looked at me my entire world seemed on the verge of crashing down around me. When had I become so dependent on Elizabeth? Where did my life end and hers begin?

     “I think we need a break. Neither one of us is happy so maybe we should just separate for awhile.” I had never seen her cry before and as the tears began to fall from her eyes my legs felt as of they were th of pudding.

     “No,” I responded coldly. There were dots dancing in front of my eyes and I was finding it harder to breathe. “Is there someone else?”

       “Jesus, why would you even think that Brian? No there isn’t. I just feel as if we both have….”

     “We don’t have doubts. You do. I love you Elizabeth and can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t let you go. I won’t.”

     She turned to face me and saw the knife for the first time. Her face was full of confusion and there was fear there as well.  I walked closer and suddenly she ran but I was able to tackler her and without warning I began stabbing her.

     Blood splashed into my face as I gutted Elizabeth and began yanking at organs. I drank from a pool of blood on the floor and tasted her flesh. I closed her eyes and then opened them. I wanted her lifeless eyes to watch me as I fucked her battered corpse.

     I punched and kicked her and then started sobbing uncontrollably as the reality of what I did fully sank in. I was alone. Truly alone. I had destroyed the one thing I could never live without. I raised the knife and slit my own throat.

    
    

Life At 40

     I always thought that when I got older I wouldn’t be one of “them“. You know what I’m talking about. I’m the guy listening to Linken Park trying to figure out why they’re so whiny. Every Linken Park cd should come with a gun and tissues. I always wonder if the lead singer is curled up in a ball sobbing like a bitch after singing this bullshit.

     Men don’t talk about “feelings”. Hell, I’m old school if a bitch breaks your heart you fuck her best friend or if you’re a nasty bastard you fuck her sister. That is what men do. I remember the first time I heard Staind I was going through some heavy shit so I could identify with it but once I stepped back and realized what the fuck I was listening to I started laughing.

     The lyrics were so fucking whiny and just beyond anything a man should be singing about. Outside is one of the creepiest fucking songs songs I have ever heard. I keep Staind on my phone’s mp3 player as a reminder of how real men shouldn’t act. We are men and men don’t ever admit to women just how much they have fucked us up.

     It gives women power and control and once the relationship ends she’ll tell her friends that you’re a whiny bitch. If you listen to this shit you’re not sensitive you’re a pussy. No woman is gonna look at you the same way if you tell her to listen to Staind. She’ll laugh at you.

     I assumed that as I got older I would just evolve and embrace all sorts of new ideals and thought patterns but the way people act and think baffles me. I thought society would somehow evolve or morph into something great but I have yet to see that happen.

     We became politically correct which really makes me giggle. How in the fuck did that happen and when did people become so sensitive? Now we can’t say certain words because it may offend somone. Who the fuck cares! When did we become so fucking weak? Now there are certain words you just can’t say but what if by accident I call someone a retarded faggot? They’re just words and if they offend someone so what?

     I am now forty years old and laugh at all those that are politically correct and afraid that someone may be offended by something that I said. We’re all adults here people. I’m old school. I will never be polite or politically correct. I’m just not wired that way. I guess the big thing now is to apologize if we offend someone. Not gonna happen. Ever.

     I have not evolved as well as I had hoped. I still listen to the same music Iistened to when I was a teenager and really really try and tolerate newer music. Some of it’s ok but it’s just too angry or whiny. I remember when music was fun and then Nirvana came along and ruined it. I like how grunge was heralded as the future of music but only lasted two years.

     All those bands sounded the same. They were all wearing dirty flannel shirts and staring at their shoes. They bored everyone to death and the music was shit. I was eighteen when grunge hit and it went right over my head. I couldn’t understand why these people were so unhappy. Maybe if they got laid they’d make better music but  then suddenly they were all gone.

     The only bright spot I guess was in my reading material. I have always been a horror fan. It just went hand in hand with the metal. It just made sense. I have always read whatever I find interesting. I love books like The Handmaid’s Tale and 1984. These books resonated with me and made me look at the world differently. I doubt if anyone does that anymore.

     I still love horror but have branched into bizarro and splatterpunk because it facinates me to no end. The thing is if you know me it just fits into my personality. Mixed in the classic horror and other random books you’ll see stuff that doesn’t seem to fit and I love that. I have never been the type of person that fits into a category and as I get older it’s a pattern that seems to stay pretty consistent.

     I never imagined that I would actually turn forty. Does anyone? It just kinda creeps up on you. You wake up one morning and there it is. The hair looks a little grayer but the Motley Crue still sounds just as good as it did back in ’83. Yeah, I’m old fucking deal with it.

Church Adventures

     People are going to start banning me from church I can feel it. I manage to get out of bed hop in the shower and even try and promise myself no blog. It seems everytime I drag myself there I end up with something. This time I wouldn’t write one.

     My mom’s church blended in with another church so I’m surrounded by people I don’t know. There’s some lady randomly yelling; “Yes Lord, thank you Lord.” My first thought was; I wonder if she yells that during sex? How distracting would that be if you’re pounding away and she just starts thanking Jesus. 

     Once I shift  my focus away I notice that the lady in front of me is swatting at her ear and her right arm is shaking. The more I watch her the more I notice all these weird behaviours. She would shake her head or once again swat at her ear. I thought maybe it was a bug but  as she kept doing I realized there was no bug at all.  She was just twitchy.

     Before I had kids and a wife I wanted to be a writer. I would get random ideas from just watching people. You’d be surprised by how many stories I had gotten from watching people. As I watch her I hear; “Yes Lord.” I start panicking because twitchy has become even more twitchy and I start thinking that she’s going to kill all of us.

     This is a  very small building so if she decides to kill because she just got a message from God saying that we needed to die because we’re all sinners I am totally fucked. There’s nowhere for me to go. All the folding chairs are occupied so any hope of braining her with one of those isn’t an option. My cell phone kept bouncing in and out of roaming so calling for help is also out as an option. 

     You read about people going batshit crazy at church but it’s something you try not to think about while you’re there. There I am wondering if twitchy is hearing the voice of God and maybe that’s why she’s swatting at her ear and shaking her head. Is God telling her to mow us down like wheat and she’s resisting because she knows it’s not a viable option? You go to church to serve and worship God not slaughter innocent people.

     Is there anything I’d like to confess? Fuck! I’m not Catholic. Where would I even begin? Knowing my luck I’d be the first one she kills and why not? I am seated behind her so it would make sense right? What nuggets of wisdom would she give to me as she’s pumping my chubby body full of holes? Would I shit and piss my pants?

     What if there was no God? As the walls are splashed with blood and the screams of the dying fill the air this is where all the answers are finally answered. All of these people could suddenly realize that God was a myth like Bigfoot or true love. Once they die and realize there’s nothing will they finally apologize for shoving God down our sinful throats?

     If there is no God this woman just killed a church full of people because she was fucking nuts! Why would God tell her to kill a church full of people anyway? The Bible is full of that shit isn’t? “Hey, it’s God. Kill your mom.” They they’d run home and kill their mother because God told them too. Fuck the commandment that says thou shalt not kill because when God tells you to kill someone you better fucking do it or else He’ll smite you and your entire bloodline.

     I try and focus on the service but at this point I’m fucking lost. I have no idea what’s going on and there’s a pregnant woman seated an aisle over and behind me. Now I’m totally pissed because she’s pregnant and hot. Why oh Lord is this happening? A hot pregnant and a twitchy lady?

     It was at that moment that I realized I am way beyond the help of any church. No priest is going to listen to my confession sober and if he does he’d need a shit load of therapy aftterward. Again, thank God I’m not Catholic. I shift away from all the distractions and wonder why is it that other people can go to church and have no issues but I go and I have no control over my brain?

     If there is a God why in the hell did he curse me with Add? Why do have to think about everything and question everything? Just once I would like to not think or imagine that a crazy lady is planning to make it rain blood and bullets.

     From here on out no more church. I quit, give up, throw in the towel. Let someon else try and write a decent blog about church that makes people feel good and shit. I have failed miserably and I should feel some type of remorse or at least embarrassment yet I feel nothing.