The Night of the Living Dead.

Throughout my life, and especially lately, I've been struck with the fact that I (as well as every other human being, or lump of atoms for that matter) am very alone. Not only alone as in lonely, but separate from everything else. I'm not sure why this is becoming so prevalent recently but it is. I guess it's always sort of been clear to me, this sense that we're all in it with nothing but ourselves to fall back on, but the gravity of it had just registered. It's a culmination of things, I guess. Maybe it sprung from my disbelief in love or the capacity of humans to love or be loved. I mean, what's left after that?
So now I see our separation everywhere. Most noticeably in pop culture. Abercrombie and Fitch is the metaphoric thread tying together an entire generation of high schoolers and college students who can afford it. The iPod lets you personalize your belonging by what you choose to load it with. But what's left is just a sweater that's too short and shrinks when you wash it, or a bunch of bytes and bits on a hard drive. There is no bond created, no joining of any person together. That would be impossible.
What's really there then? Even your family, friends, husband, wife can't share the same dreams as you. When you die, they can only hold your hand until you're dead.
And then there is God. Is God real? Could that be what makes everything one? and if so, why don't I feel that?
Oh, the futility of it all.

the wrath

I am at war. The wounds are evident in my eyes: swollen. My skin is parched from fighting too long without rest.
I feel my enemies crouched, waiting for me to engage, waiting to continue the fight.
I will never stop fighting until I am dead. You can fight against me, but I will always win.
In a battle royal, I will emerge victorious.

what's up Plano?

Hello, Plano!

So,those of you who pay attention may notice that I have a tool which allows me to view some information of people who view this blog. Specifically, where they view it from.

Well, someone from Plano, Texas sure did some looking!!! I just love knowing that! Is it pronounced "plain old"? Like "plain old Texas"?

memoir of a drunken night

Henry's Pub in downtown San Diego has karaoke. It also happens to be a magnet for drunk Trish and Laura. We have ended our nights here twice. Once on my birthday when I sang my heart out to Loretta Lynn's "Coal Miners Daughter" and did a duet to Merle Haggard's "Think I'll Just Stay Here and Drink" with some Army officer who was too drunk to care.
The night this picture was taken, however, is too fuzzy to remember. We were drunk for sure, and the focus of the picture is fitting, because that is exactly how I remember Henry's looking. Incedentally, we took a cab home that night and could not, for the life of us, remember where we parked her jeep the next day.

i know you missed my bitching.

very few things irritate me more than women who giggle or smile incessantly. Perhaps I am jealous that they are so happy that their laughs and their smiles overflow from their beings.

also irritating is misspelling their (there, they're) or to (too, two), or than (then). it's elementary.