Just what I always wanted…. a hurricane for my birthday. yay.

My heart weeps for better days,

My eyes remain dry from long ago.

There is no light from this point it seems;

No end from this fruitless drought.

 

Mystical winds blow through my hair

Teasing me with fantastic dreams;

Revisiting childhood fancies,

Until I fall and scream.

 

I try and try to stay above the poison mist

But fall deeper in the hole.

There is no light from down here it seems;

No end for this morose clown.

 

Fake the smile to make the grade

While my fans yell loud and cheer.

This is no merriment in this man

To laugh and join the game.

 

The coldest winters lay in my soul

Chilling me to the bone.

There is no light to guide my way,

Through this wasteland to my home.

 

This broken traveler that I am,

Is forever lost to find his way…

Without light to guide him back,

To his long lost home of far away.

 

 

-JJT

 

26 Aug 06

3:13 AM

Boiling boils bound by batty basterd brothers battling brown bouncing bears.

 

I just made that up. Try saying that five times fast.

 

Sigh. This thing, life, has me a wit’s end. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been the good boy for several weeks now… My nose has been kept clean and my shoes have remained tied… but I wonder, ‘what is it all for?’

 

Obviously, I had made a bad decision. I made a beast of myself. Of course, the beast got loose, as they tend to do, and will maybe cause a few bumps in my near and present future. Keyword… maybe… that word just adds to the madness within me. It’s the waiting and the wondering and all the “what if’s”… sigh. What really gets me though, ‘Where is my battalion of soldiers that have promised support in this new campaign?’

 

Bahhh! I’m not talking about the drinking you dolts! I have already said, ‘I’ve been a good boy!’ But I suppose even in that, I am very surprised of the outcome.

 

All in all… with a strict exception of a few in this world (you know who you are) and those others who don’t know my business (yes you are excused), the rest of the population are no good conniving flesh eating soul stealing rats.

 

No offence to the present rat population.

 

Hahahaa…. yea.

 

I have placed myself in a solitary confinement, playing the role of a mute recluse, biding my time until the hurricane force winds die down. While the storm rages on, I can lie in wait no longer.

 

It was said to me that, “times like these prove the quality of friends you keep.” Sadly many of those lights have dimmed in the recent weeks. For the first time since my adolescence, I am humiliated by my ignorance.

 

I am giving up “friends” while trying to make life-altering decisions while facing the uncertain actions of God knows what, as I’m trying to go back to school after seven years while I fight to survive in this dog eat dog world and now having to hunt for a new place of employment after crossing professional and personal lines making staying a serious conflict of interest…

 

…thanks to those who truly care. You are true blue.

 

…to those who just want to steal a bit more of me… of my soul… of my life…BLOW! I’M ONE BUSY S.O.B. AND I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOU! I’VE GOT MY OWN PATHETIC LIFE TO CONTEND WITH, SO FUCK OFF!

Day 4

A poorly shaven man in his fifties came into work earlier today.
He looked up at the tall buildings and started spinning around as if in awe and
trying to take everything in all at once. From first glance, he looked out of
place in the uppity-up overpriced ocean front condos I work at. I had never
seen him around before, so, I decided to approach him.

 

“Excuse me sir.  May I
help you?”

 

“Oh. No. I live here”

 

“In which unit you do live in sir?”

 

“Oh I really don’t know. I’ve only been here a few days. Five
days. I just don’t know.”

 

“Well sir… do you live in the south or north building?” I
ask gesturing at each of the two buildings.

 

“Well… uh… I don’t know. I’m actually staying with some
friends.”

 

I just stare at him blackly trying to make since of this man
dressed in a dirty white t-shit and very short blue shorts. His hands just fidgeted
with what looked like a light blue canvas purse. A purse! I snickered inside.

 

“Well sir,” I continued. “What are your friend’s last names?”

 

“White.”

 

Now I have worked at these condos since late February, and I
simply didn’t recall any resident by the last name of White. So I radio it back.
Perhaps someone just moved in this past week and I wasn’t made aware, after all,
these things have happened. But before I could get a response, the man makes a
mad dash to the door!

 

“EXCUSE ME SIR! GET BACK HERE!” I yell.

 

The man sheepishly wanders back in time to hear we have no
resident by the name of White.

 

“No White? No White! But I stayed with them for five months!

 

“Five months sir? You told me five days!”

 

“No. No. No! Five months!” He contested getting frustrated.

 

“Sir that is not possible and I’m now asking you to leave.”

 

“Can’t I wait on Mr. White?”

 

“Mr. White does not live here. You have no reason to be
here. Please leave.”

 

“But that’s not fair!” He said getting angry. “Mr. White
used to live here. He owned all of this. I stayed with him!”

 

It’s hot. I’m now sweating. I want to go back inside with
the a/c instead of dealing with this delusional man. I’m getting frustrated
myself so I give him the ultimatum.

 

“These condos have been here quite some time, and I can
assure you sir… that Mr. White does not own any of this… now…today. If you have
no business here, I ask you again please leave the property or I… better yet the
Juno PD will remove you.”

 

“But that’s not fair! I’ve got no where to go. Mr. White…”
Now defeated, he tries to take a seat on the pavement.

 

“Sir you can’t sit there. This is private property. You need
to leave.”

 

He gets up mumbling something incoherent as I usher him out
past the gates. Then he starts on me again.

 

“Well I own a piece of this too!  

 

“Sir?”

 

“Well, why have I been paying nine hundred dollars a month
for this place? A play you say I can’t stay?”

 

“Sir… get real. These places cost a lot more than nine
hundred bones a month. Heck! I can’t even afford this place! You don’t live
here. Mr. White does not live here. You don’t belong here.”

 

He fidgets with his purse for a moment before turning away.
He takes a few steps then turns and says…

 

“But I’ve got no place to go. I can’t go back to that crack
house. I don’t wanna’ go back to that crack house… this place just looked so
nice…”

 

My heart sank as he turned and walked away… pasted the gates…
across the street… past the bush and the buildings on the other side.

 

He and I are the same type of man; both troubled by our
afflictions. He is my future. He is my destiny if I don’t change my ways.

 

Day 3

 

I have been in my head all day, and it’s driving me nuts!

 

Sigh… going straight home after work sucks. Tried to reason
that maybe I could just go hang out and drink a coke or something… but in the
end realized that was no good. I HAVE NEVER sat at a bar and drank a coke. Why
the heck would I start now?

 

Weeknights were never about getting drunk and wasted. It was
more like getting out and chilling with other losers like me who like to
complain about the day over a few beers. It was the camaraderie that I liked.
People I could relate to. I mean, what responsible person would go to a bar during
the week? All in all, it doesn’t take a lot to realize I’m not missing much by coming
straight home and skipping out on a few drunks.  Just not used to being so… I don’t know. Guess
you kind of get used to talking and listening to people.

Day
1

I
don’t know how to begin… I’ve rewritten the first few lines of whatever this is
going to be many times over the last half hour…. But I guess in the end it
really doesn’t matter.

All
day today I have been reliving the “stuff” of the past and have been coming to
unacceptable conclusions. I have been avoiding so much of my past that I’ve
become delusional, misinterpreting certain memories… bending them in my mind
consciously or unconsciously so that I can justify myself and actions. But I
suppose that is the purpose of the devil within which fuels my pride.

The
topic of question was alcohol and the problems in my life that have perpetuated
from my drinking. Now isn’t the time for the mistakes I’ve made or the
repercussions of certain actions… getting to them isn’t the point of what I
want to achieve here today. Perhaps in time I’ll get to it.

I
am a writer. Writing is a release for me. I don’t care if it’s good or bad… or
if anyone reads. As long as I can put into writing my thoughts and feelings, I
can let go of certain things I feel passionately about. All I have to do is
learn to see things clearly in terms of my life, and report on them so. No
excuses. No pulling punches. There is no room for anything but honest
no-holes-barred truth as I begin this new path of self discovery. I will reveal
this devil through my writing… in hopes to someday conquer this beast within.

As
I begin whatever journey I have now drunkenly stumbled upon, I can honestly say
I fear what tomorrow brings. But with that fear is hope.

After
a much needed talk with an old friend and a new acquaintance tonight, I know
I’m not alone. Our discussion left thoughts in my head and inspired me in this
new endeavor. Haha… but that was short lived. No sooner was I on my way home
than I started to conspire to hit the local all night bar for a few drinks.
Lucky for me (unlucky for them) there was a bad car crash about a mile from my
home. I counted about seven Palm Beach Gardens
cops on scene. Cops on the road are the last thing I want to see right before
downing a few, so I chose to go home. To further persuade me, at that instant
it started pouring so hard I could barely see and had to slow my seed to about
25. Funny thing is, it stopped raining once I got home.

Within
one night, I flip-flopped. Sigh. I can see it’s going to be easy for me to say
I’m going change my life. But doing it is going to be hell.

I
learned tonight to take one day at a time. Today has been day 1.