Love Sucks

Underwater the sounds of the world are muffled

The sounds of my lacerated heart beat and blood flow augment

But for a moment a fish in a pond, for a moment I cease to remember

The cool water and tranquil buoyancy calms the rage within, this chiseled to a sharp edge

I feel like a bomb about to detonate, my heart crystallizing into a hard shell

There are some crimes fueled by passion, now I understand

I wish I could cut out my heart and replaced it with a mechanical one

It would be best to purge the rage, to scream out loud on a mountain top, and then cry my heart out

I drove this morning wedged between an 18 wheeler and an SUV

As the lanes closed to merge, I did not care what if...

When does one cease to hurt?

I can’t turn on the radio and listen to love songs

I have the look of a wounded animal -- haunted by memories

So small, so demoralized, I feel like begging for sex – to numb the pain

Or simply to be sheltered in someone’s arms and erase your memory

Don’t look at me that way and pity me, It’s my entire fault

Why, why, why won’t you learn it’s not smart to invest the heart?

Stupid that’s what you are; then again everyone is a fool when in love

Cherish every moment they say…that is because it will never last

Life will make sure you pay the price…eventually

.

Played

Hooky today. That goes for posting too.


.

R.I.P George Carlin

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete...

Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

George Carlin

http://www.snopes.com/politics/soapbox/paradox.asp 

Edmund sent me this web page clarifying the origins
of this essay. Thanks Edmund.

My Refuge

My Refuge



A slab of concrete, similar to the stone altars once used...
To make human sacrifices, sheltered me from the oppressive heat
After reading as much as I could for the night, I turned off the light
As I delighted my senses with the view from above

A colossal pine tree extends its branches offering an embrace
The expansive canvas of the night, tinted a peculiar shade of grey
Its palette a mix of light pollutants blended with brownish tinged air...
And moonlight beams -- covered the top layer of the starry night

I traced the stars, while listening to sounds of the night
This a symphony of crickets creating a sonorous electronic mix
Of vibrant sound waves, sizzling in its tempo, accompanied by
A sporadic and probably inebriated driver or two

Everything is awash in moonlight, like a potent reflector
I wish I could visit the moon in a dream. Is it made of cheese?
In the faltering stages between dream and awake
I distinctly felt a resounding kiss on my lips

Occasionally an unsolicited visitor came to call
I was careful to delicately brush away with the aid of my book
A spider or some other creature attempting...
To escalate the long columns of my bare legs

This reminded me of the next post, written some time ago:

.

So Hot

I did not sleep last night...at all! I tossed and turned to no avail. Barely managed to catch some sleep about 6:45 am. Was awakened again to enjoy purgatory at 9:00 am. I am on fire you see. I am burning up! It's this old place, has no ac, just fans. Which was worst? The sizzling heat, or the gas prices? If you have the time could you help me install one today? How else to stay cool?

The short green satin teddy does nothing to keep me cool. I mean my thighs and ass stick to the faux leather office chair while I type here. Rivulets of perspiration running down my cleavage and legs. Last night, I did stay cool occasionally by dunking in the bathtub; water cooled even further with bag of ice cubes. I gathered some of these cubes to melt on my pulse, temples, down to my hardened nipples, and best of all, inserted inside my internal volcano. Without exaggeration if outside it is 96 degrees...inside I am 110 degrees Fahrenheit at least! Those ice cubes melted in minutes! Also felt good to lie on sofa with fan between thighs right after the bath.

Today to offset the oppressive heat, will go to gym's sauna room, or perhaps Jacuzzi; that will be refreshing in comparison. Later on, when sleep attempts to overtakes me, perhaps I will go to Griffith Park, and lie under shade of a big tree. Will nap under its warm, balmy shade. What then if....what if ants crawl inside my honey pot? You can't expect women to wear undies in this scorching heat wave! I would be completely mortified by having to scratch..(down there) while trying to oust these ants!

.

Of course other option would be to run to nearest water sprinkler and squat there to get a thorough flush, all the while peasant skirt balloons into a wet tent. How refreshing! Imagine though, the incredulous looks of perplexity by witnesses in my frantic attempts to oust these ants from inside my hot pocket...all the while they were attempting to obliterate memories of drudgery of their work with endless consumption of beer cans, and grilling animal carcasses.

.

I must do something to remedy this lack of sleep! Have a tool box? Perhaps you might be so kind as to let me sleep over tonight? (only if you have a/c at full blast!). Otherwise, the only sleep I will eventually succumb to, will be Monday morning 9:00am, at the office. Please forgive my feverish post, this heat is testing my precarious hold on sanity. Will come back to my sane self, tomorrow morning.

Ok...getting sleepy now...will sleep in bathtub full of ice cubes.

Happiness

Happiness

It’s said that happiness is elusive

Like a butterfly. One has to stop chasing it,

Sit still, and let it fall on your lap

Wrap yourself in love, tolerance, and hope

For its search can be a slippery slope

Who knows what destiny has in stored for us

One may have a strict set of paradigms of what

It’s that will bring this elusive happiness… And nothing else.

One fatal accident away

From death, or having those dreams wrecked

.

.

Just close your eyes and let sweet whispers

Weave an intricate tapestry in your psyche

Allow your soul to listen, for it is wise

Let your heart be open to all, and know that

Just one will make an indelible impression on it

The one that holds the key will be then known

Not to everlasting happiness, for it is ephemeral

For construing little moments of joy which

Create a quilt of loving memories…
Those warm the heart, even in the afterglow

Give it time to cultivate and flourish

Perhaps allow your arms to embrace the unknown

Let it cradle you gently until it is better known

Why worry about being alone, in the rush to fill A void,

We make mistakes along the way

.

Acronym

Acronym

For mediocre, ostentatious, crappy art?

I despair to think that bliss is found...

Looking at the bottom of an empty glass

At least take solace that it was a free entry pass

A perpetual frown marked my forehead

I looked around for something edible, the contents

Of a refrigerator full of unpalatable stuff

I was left famished, parched, and desolated

Through my peripheral vision

I noted a parallel drama unfolding

Men and women stoic and dignified

Surreptitiously bent their knees, tired of standing still

The sum of their days spent on guard adjacent to crap

If this is the ideal representation of contemporary art...

Then perhaps it's a reflection of the pervading indolence

Just get by -- why struggle for excellence?

It’s OK if your heart is not in it, simply get through the day

Come weekend numb the senses - quiet the mind

Sit comfortably and observe the parade, enraptured

Spectators one day to realize, that life just whizzed by

.

Inertia

open link:

Click here: Breitbart.tv » Worker Freak-Out Caught On Tape Creates Internet Phenomenon




Video courtesy of my sister Scarlett.

.

Second Chances IX

From the moment he saw her, Mark was instantly smitten.

She walked with an air of subtle sensuality exuding from every pore. Her warm smile, made her pretty face transform into a garden of serenity -- a pleasure to behold. Extending her hand in a greeting, Carol introduced herself.

-“I want you to know that I am very passionate about helping others, that is why I’ve worked with various not for profit organizations, and I’ve traveled abroad quite a bit for hands on volunteer work. I’ve done a lot of research prior to our meeting, and I have brought with me a list of worthy causes for you to consider. I think I am the right candidate to manage your organization.” Carol said assertively.

She is indeed Mark thought.

-“As you can see I work from my home, or when the mood strikes, I take off to my yacht. You would have to work with me here or there, and of course, travel with me for those hands on volunteer treks to underdeveloped countries. Would that be a problem with your boyfriend, or significant other, or children perhaps?” Marked asked with feigned disinterest.

-“Not at all. I have no children, no significant other, and when I do, I am sure my job duties would not suffer for it. Mr. Smith, I do want to reiterate as shown in my research, that there are a lot of worthy causes right here at home. We could alternate helping those abroad, as well as those needy here.” Carol stated enthusiastically.

-“Please call me Mark. The job is yours Carol and I want to emphasize that we will work together often as a team not only to contribute to worthy causes, but I also need you to help run various investments I have to make my money grow, as well as a lot of fundraising to help the funds of the organization grow.

As to your list of local causes, I really need to see these for myself. You see, it is critically important that this organization helps to alleviate real suffering. Perhaps you will disagree with me, but I think no one in this country should be going hungry or homeless. There is always a job to be done. If one wants one.” Mark said.

-“Mark, I understand your concern is to alleviate suffering, as you mentioned in your e-mails, but you must realize that there are vulnerable members of our society like the elderly, and the children, and those affected by aids.”

-“Carol, I understand your kind heart, and perhaps I am simply jaded. Yet, if you closely observe, you will see the discrepancies. People paying with food stamps, and driving away in a Mercedes Benz, or kids getting free toys and fancy sneakers for the holidays, when they hardly look underfed. Giving away toys is not my idea of alleviating suffering Carol. I reiterate… I need to alleviate real suffering.” Mark said.

.

A few years later, in the middle of the night, a luscious full moon illuminated their room. Again Mark was swept into a vivid dream where he met Norman once again.

Norman was naked in his dream, yet his semblance was serene. He smiled at Mark with love barely contained.

-“Mark thank you for all that you have done. You’ve really made a difference in the lives of those suffering, and their tears of joy and gratitude have salved my plight.

I’ve been promoted to purgatory. Here I have a chance through good behavior to meditate and plead my case. Eventually I hope to be delivered from here and at least given the chance to go back incarnated and make good this time.

Thank you so much cousin. Although I also need to tell you something.” Norman said with intent.

-“I want to thank you too Norman, through the money you left, and the organization I created in your name, I’ve met my wife. I could not be any happier.” Mark said with content.

-“That is what I want to talk about Mark. You don’t know this yet, but she is pregnant, and it will be a boy. You owe a great debt yourself Mark, or have you forgotten the seven lambs you helped to deliver?

Unless you pay your debt they will collect your soul, or that of your newborn child when he sleeps.”

.

Second Chances VIII

Sweat beads like morning dew, populated Mark’s flushed face. He trashed and moaned in his sleep, conduced to hell through his vivid dream.

The tortured and despaired look on Norman’s face said it all. He was a lost soul, chained to hell for all eternity. Norman was naked in this dream. His limp and shriveled penis seemed intimidated and lifeless like the occupant of his soul less ethereal form.

Mark appeared naked in the dream as well, but his form radiated life force, and was free of lesions and handicaps, at least in his dreams.

Norman gave Mark a supplicant look, while he scratched, and swatted away scurrying vermin attempting to colonize his open sores.

-“Mark, thank God you are here! I mean, not really here – ditto on thanking God. I am going insane here! This is worst than driving on a Friday during rush hour traffic in three digit weather, with a malfunctioning a/c. The difference is that one faces that kind of impotent limbo, each and every day. One faces demons galore, and those living in the psyche as well.

I can’t take this anymore! The worst thing is, that there is no respite. This is a monotonous, slow drip cycle; always traveling in a circle. You’ve GOT TO HELP ME!” Norman sobbed desperately.

-“Norman, I am so sorry, but you signed your soul away. It’s theirs for all eternity; sorry buddy. I am so sorry to see you looking and smelling like shit.” Mark said truly saddened.

-“No, no, no! You don’t understand Mark. You see God created us in His image. I’ve found out all about it. Our souls are kept in vaults, for those are more valuable, than gold is to us on earth. They are beams of brilliant light, kept securely hidden in dark compartments. Everything is negotiable Mark; on earth, as in parallel realms.

I just gotta pay my way out of here. I mean, for my soul to be released. You’ve got to help me please!” Norman said this as he got on his knees and sobbed like a lost child.

-“Norman, tell me what to do, I will do what I can to release you from this dark inferno.”

-“Mark, use the money to do good deeds in my name. Alleviate the suffering with that dammed money, and accrue brownie points in my name. Will you do it Mark please?” Norman asked expectantly.

-“Yes Norman, I will use some of the money to help the less fortunate in your name. I promise.” That is when Mark woke up drenched in sweat.

Mark jerked his head back, to clear his vision by flipping back errant locks of hair. He decided that he would trim his hair short later that day. He labored to balance his weight on his crutches, as he entered the lobby of the massive building.

-“As you requested, everything is drawn up and ready for you to sign Mark. This is as you know a tax shelter for the money raised for your nonprofit. As per your instructions, upon your demise, all your assets will be liquidated and all your money will be allocated to this nonprofit for it to continue functioning. Please read it over carefully before signing.

By the way, I find the name,” Free Norman Smith” a bit odd.” Mark’s attorney commented as Mark read thoroughly the documents in front of him.

-“OK, now that this is started, once I set up the pertinent bank account for “Free Norman Smith,” I will then request transfer from your accounts the sum of ten million dollars. You will then have to go with me to your bank to authorize the transfer.

Mark I hate to be redundant, but need I remind you that this amounts three-fourths of your total liquid assets? But, I will do simply as told. That is what I’m handsomely paid for.” His attorney said with a Colgate smile.

.
Mark labored to breathe, exhausted from the trek to the elevator. Once inside, he mused that this was a cool second chance in life. He was simply a tool in the scheme of things. He was now a mediator for those suffering.

To be continued…

Second Chances VII

If one were to view in slow motion the moment of actual impact, it would seem almost ludicrous, as if this accident could have been averted somehow. The moment a collision makes contact to tear clean through metal, plastic, wiring, flesh and bones -- like a knife cutting effortlessly through melting butter -- seems almost poetic in its efficiency.

The very moment when the brutality of the jolt, rattles the skeletal frame like a rag doll, and one has to give up the ghost.

Who could have foretold it? When a pretty waitress flashed an amplified smile, and wished one to “have a nice day,” just that very morning.

Mark felt the surge of white-hot pain run through his body instantaneously. It ran amok the nerve endings of his back, starting from his cerebellum running instantaneously throughout his spinal cord. This causing an internal revolution of his nerves and synapses’.

Mark registered his pain, and turned around to see how Norman fared. The other car had smashed into Norman’s side, the driver’s side compressed like an accordion the compact sports car.

Mark unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to check Norman’s pulse. The bloodied, unconscious form was ample evidence that he was gone.

Mark could not move as gracefully as he should. His body protested and refused to comply. He managed to grab Norman’s right hand with his left, and was able to ascertain what he refused to register when faced with the evident.

Talk about bad luck.

Just a year ago, Norman had done the unspeakable to secure for himself spectacular wealth. He had not even enjoyed the bounty earned, until several days had passed, and he had recuperated from his ordeal.

True to his word, Norman from the start shared a portion of his wealth with Mark, and proclaimed him sole heir to his fortune.
During that year, they had traveled the world, lived it up in high style with plenty of women, lost relatives surfaced, and even paternity suits ensued.

Only one year to the day had passed, that Norman sold his soul for profit. How sad that he did not live longer just like he'd planned all along. I guess that is how funny life is, Mark thought. It plays on the strings of the marionettes, pulling on the weaknesses of characters in a drama enfolding during live theatre.

Mark could not help but laugh hysterically. His shrill laughter turned to shrieks of terror, when it dawned on him that he could not move, but his arms. His body would simply not respond. He was now the sole proprietor of Norman’s wealth. He would inherit millions, yet what good would that do if he could not walk out of this?

Mark looked out at the expanse of morning sky, such a beautiful day contrasting with such internal misery.


To be continued…

Second Chances VI

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Second Chances V

-“Listen, let’s get out of here and talk about this. There are monkeys on the coast.” Norman said this as he surveyed the diner.

They strolled together to the parking lot, and they sat in Mark's car to formulate a plan.

-“So, what’s it gonna be Mark? Are you in or not? We can make rich overnight.”

-“Norman, are you sure you want to do this? I may never own a fifty foot yacht, but at least I have a soul. This all sounds like bull shit.” Mark said.

-“Well, I’ve thought about it, and thought about it some more, until this has become an obsession to me.
Look at us man, we ain’t young pups anymore. I’m getting old, achy, and grumpy. Why I read the other day they are due to come out with new scientific breakthroughs to promote longevity. They already came out with Viagra, but since I can’t get women, there's not much point in taking it.

Why with that money, I’d move to Miami or the coast of California. I’d live in a yacht and have two hot women vying to suck my cock -- simultaneously, I would venture to think.
For what its worth, I’d live the rest of my days in luxury, and even extend my stay here indefinitely with the advances of science. So, the answer is, yes.”

-“You can’t buy another day of life, when it’s your time to go Norman, don’t fool yourself. Besides where would you get those seven innocent lambs?” Mark asked with skepticism.

-“Tell that to the people who died of the plague, or malaria before the vaccines were invented. This ain’t no life anyway. I am sixty-one years old. If I don’t make a radical change now, I’m a gonner that’s for sure. The winters here are too harsh cousin; they freeze your soul.
As to the lambs, I know exactly how to solve this problem. We will go down to Home Depot or U-haul and hire seven men. We will relieve them of their miseries.”

-“Are you nuts? Are you really willing to lose it all and go expedited to hell?” Mark asked now thoroughly shocked.

-“Cousin, that’s life. A few innocent slaughtered, and the majority saved. Or in other cases, a few privileged, and the masses fucked. It don’t matter to me none.

I’m doing it, and if you help me, I will share my wealth with you and leave you an inheritance. You're younger than me, so you will get the rest of the money when I leave.
I ain’t got that much time to think about it cousin. Let’s do it.” Norman said with finality.



Norman and Mark huddled close together to stave off the cold of the cavernous mine.
A nearby lantern provided weak illumination, as they each had a beer, and Mark listened to his I Pod from one ear.

They snacked on Doritos, and placed an open whiskey bottle not far from there. They hoped to entice their visitor with a token of their appreciation.

Several hours passed, when they fought off sleep, and alternated between short naps. Later in the night, close to three in the morning, a foul smell permeated the mine.

-“Mark, since I’m willing to sell my soul, I think it’s only fair that you suck his cock.” Norman rationalized.



To be continued…

Second Chances IV

The sun filtered through the window panes, bathing the tables of the diner with a warm golden glow. The fresh morning air fueled Mark’s appetite, so he then ordered a hearty feast.

-“Do you know that it’s speculated an ounce of gold will reach as high as fifteen-hundred?” Norman excitedly explained his plan to Mark.

-“Are you serious about all of this? Get real, I’m just hanging here for a couple of months to detoxify the smog, and stress from my system. I do not have a clear plan yet, as to what I will do with the rest of my life. But, I‘m sure something will come up that will peak my interest. It seems that prospecting for gold is just a pain in the ass.” Mark said with a calm demeanor.

-“I have witnesses! I am telling you Mark, we can hide and scout for him if you like, and see if you believe or not!” Norman said in a persuasive tone.

-“Hmmm…scout for a little dwarf? Did you spike your coffee Norman? Come on, it seems you have gold fever cousin, and it is making you delirious.” Mark said.

Looking intensely at Mark, with eyes that had a fevered glaze, Norman recounted a tale of an eye witness.

-“I had a drunken bastard working at the mine. One day he came to me pissed off, and accused me of stealing his whisky. Of course, I told him that it wasn’t me, but that didn’t deter him from confronting me again about his stolen whiskey since I was the first one to get to the mine in the mornings.
So we made a plan. I told him to put his whiskey where ever he usually hid it, and to hide himself and that way find out who was stealing his drink.
So he did as told, after all the other workers had left for the evening. Later on, he saw a white light coming from afar. Then, he saw a little guy, about three feet tall strutting as cool as a peach, with a face not even a mother could love. So what did he do then? Well, he drank the guy’s whiskey!"

-“Why didn’t this guy kick the dwarf’s ass?” Mark interrupted.

-“Are you kidding? Mookie has liaisons with you know who. Anyway, that is all this guy remembered about his close call with Mookie; he was found the next morning fainted with foam coming out of his mouth. But before you make any negative assumptions, let me tell you he’s not all that bad.

A guy who met him told me the secret. To tell the truth, I also want to meet Mookie myself, and perhaps come to an arrangement. You see, Mookie’s domain is gold, so he dwells in the gold mines.
He can offer to make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams overnight! Although, he will request something in return.” Norman said this while he lowered his eyes.

-“What? What does Mookie want in exchange?” asked Mark intrigued by the prospect of unlimited wealth.
.
-“Well, it’s like this cousin. You can enjoy riches in this lifetime overnight -- you can have a vault full of gold for the asking -- but you will have to acquiesce to three demands.”

-“What are those? Tell me!” Mark asked, his curiosity peaked.

-“First, you must agree to bring seven innocent lambs to the mines. And you know what that means right? Those are seven innocents to be sacrificed.” Norman whispered this with a feverish glint in his eyes.

-“Second, you will sign your soul over him. Lastly, the third term he will tell you himself, although I know what it is.” Norman said with an air of mystery.

-“What is it? What are the third and last term Mookie demands?” Mark asked in earnest.

-“Well you see, this last demand determines how badly you want to be rich beyond your wildest dreams. It seems that one can smell Mookie before he appears, for he stinks like shit marinated in sewer water. Anyway…he will demand that you to suck his cock.” Norman said with finality.

-"Would you do that Norman? Would you dare to sell your soul for overnight wealth, and carry the guilt of those sacrifices? Well, by then you would not have a conscience perhaps." Mark asked utterly perplexed.

-"I am tempted cousin, I am so tempted I can taste it. I've searched for gold for so long. The big prize is so elusive, and yet it seems so tantalizingly close. Anyway, I desire to seek him. Are you in?

By the way, the guys' who have done it -- sucked his cock, have puked for three consecutive days."

To be continued…

Second Chances III

Here we go again. Mark closed his eyes to give Marge a good morning kiss. As he did so, he thought of something else. He hoped to make it quick.

What would have been a quick peck on the lips evolved into a deep kiss of fencing tongues, and saliva coating unwashed morning breath. Yet, the moment did not end there, for it was only a prelude of a survey of Madge’s entire landscape. She gently, yet insistently guided Mark’s head with both her hands, down the valley of her torso, and yet lower still.

Mark smelled himself there, before he reached the dense forest of her enclave. Her musky odor seemed fermented due mostly to last night's humid heat.
The coagulated sperm from last night’s deposit entangled in the thicket, adored the dark entrance of her slit, as an airport runway's white lines guide airplanes to the landing strip. Yet, these white strips were sporadically positioned and clung as low as her hairy ass cheeks.

Like a bull that drops its head down before charging, Mark let his nose open the folds of the sticky as molasses and redolent fruit, blatantly tantalizing him and engulfing him whole. The pressure of twin thighs gripping his head in a vice, cut the circulation, and air supply it seemed, for Mark felt beginning to feel ill.

Feeling violated and used, and utterly disgusted with the living arrangement overall; something rebelled in him. Mark summoned enough force to brake free from the stranglehold. -“Enough!”- He said, as he ran to wash his face.

-“Are you OK Hun? What happened there?” asked Marge with a stupefied look on her face.

Mark took a long look at her face, the running mascara deployed under the folds of the bags under her eyes. Did she not have consideration to wash before requesting more head? It was like the day she was supposed to have finished her menstruation, except for a few lingering drops which made it taste like raw, bloodied liver.

This is what’s wrong with the world Mark thought. Simple lack of consideration like signaling when changing lanes. Saying “Bless You” to complete strangers whenever they sneezed. Keeping the mouth closed while chewing to avoid projecting food particles everywhere. As well as using a knife to gather the rice, instead of the thumb.

I’m losing it, Mark thought. -"I can’t stay here one more day." He said so and left. Not before enduring a tirade from Madge on how ungrateful, and what a complete loser he is.

Mark needed to start all over the latter chapter of his life.
He had a second chance to do so, and nothing was holding him back. He would go back home to Montana for a while -- home where he belonged.


To be continued….

Open link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6s4xQ6dqdhQ

.

Second Chances II

Sometimes when it rains, it pours thought Mark. He was facing his bathroom mirror while flossing, when he noticed a tooth was loose.

That is all he needed to cap a wonderful week. Full of wondering about his future, when notified he was getting laid off. This after getting an earlier notice posted on his front door, that the house he was renting had been sold in auction, and that he would need to vacate.
.

No wonder the rent was relatively cheap, for such a place. The owner cashed in for several months, and planned to wash his hands of the whole mess it would seem.
.

What now? What else? Mark contemplated his weary image in the unforgiving morning light. The creases marking avenues on the map of his skin seemed deepened. So was the weight he seemed to carry on his shoulders. He needed to work on his posture, which showed a curvature, as well as on his pot belly. Too many hours on a desk has left an indelible impression he thought.
Mark took an honest look at himself, taking in the bad, the good, and the ugly. Again he wondered if this was all there is. Just another day closer to death.

An idea seemed to germinate as he was drinking his morning coffee. With the price of renting a new place with the stratospheric rents, as well as deposits required, if worst came to worst, he could put his furniture in store for a time. This would be until he settled into stable income.
What about the meantime? With the jobless rising, and massive lay offs looming on the horizon, it might not be as easy to find another decent position.

Mark laughed out loud as he thought about positions. There is a place he could crash in for a while. He could probably stay at Madge’s place no doubt. This would surely translate into variable positions. Madge was a woman who was after his bones. She did not hesitate to pursue him aggressively.

The problem with Marge, as nice as a woman as she was, was that he was not thoroughly attracted to her. The last time he had been with her, he could not even get it up.

Madge in her late thirties had a pleasant personality. She was bubbly and talkative. She was petite and slight of frame. Her tanned skin tone, almost an orange hue, so popular in sunny California, had aged her skin before her time, making it resemble leather. When kissing her, he was constantly distracted by a mole on her right cheek which had protruding hair growing in there. This talent to grow hair elsewhere than the norm also manifested on her areolas.

Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Mark wondered, if he would have to recur to seek her aid – and her bed.



To be continued…

Second Chances

- “Would you like another round? I’m buying.” Ruben offered.

- “That would be most welcome, my friend. I am sixty dollars short. You have no idea what I went through last night. Talk about disastrous dates.” Mark said while shaking his head.

- “OK, what now. It seems you have a propensity to exaggerate Mark.”

- “Nope, not this time. Let’s just say besides a lack of chemistry, this chick helped herself to my cash. She must be a pick pocket pro.” Mark said with an air of someone weary of life itself.

- “No need for details buddy. Times are tough. That will fill up her tank of gas at least. Hey, when gasoline hits close to seven dollars come around the 4Th of July, you can start meeting girls on the Metro. Why don’t you just print out some personal cards with your e-mail, picture, and telephone?” Ruben said.

- “Sure, that’s an idea; one may cop a feel on the bus too, as packed as sardines as they will get by then.” Mark said.

- “That is what I like about you. Always looking for advancement. You might feel if their boobs are real, silicone, or padded. OK, on a serious note, are you going to vote for the democratic Presidential nominee? I know you were rooting for Hillary.” Ruben said.

- “It’s not that I don’t like Obama – he is a great guy. It’s just that he is a smooth talker, a good salesman. The way this world is going to shit, what is needed is someone with the experience and guts to salvage a sinking ship. But you know what? As I was listening to both speak Tuesday night, I had a gut feeling that Hillary should push for V.P nomination.” Mark said.

- “You mean she should be thankful for leftovers?” Ruben asked.

- “No, given the nature of the beast, if history repeats itself, she might have the chance to become President – by default.”

- “You’re sick man, how can you even say that.”

- “Or think that? What about 9/11, do you think anyone even would think about that ever happening? Could you even entertain the idea that it was orchestrated to shake our foundation to the very core for ulterior motives, not just those obviously presented at face value?

In this hostile climate, what would drive undiluted stark terror in the heart of every man, woman, and child? Not like it hasn’t happened in the past – or blamed on someone else.

Besides, who will ever again want to initiate another war given the fucked up current fiasco? They need to sell weapons you know. Don't you think those motherfuckers are making a killing with this war? Literally and figuratively.” Mark said.

- "I think you’ve had too much to drink already buddy. I am not buying the next round.” Ruben said as he stood up from the bar stool.

To be continued…

Tough Times

Tough Times


Man times are sure tough
You think because of the gasoline prices?
No, it’s when there is lack of remorse
Incur moral debt at the expense of instant reward


Where is the love when people pay for affection?
When people ingeniate how to use others for gain
Mistaking a gentle demeanor for idiocy
As if one can’t discern

Man times are sure tough
You have to constantly watch your back
What ever happened to gentler times?
When your promise was as good as done

Well get over it, money comes and goes
Yet, trust in the individual erodes
I’m just saddened that he would resort to this
Well, what do you expect?

Some people steal, borrow endlessly...
Or beg...the cost of living...
Is getting more expensive every day
That doesn't justify misery in man!

I simply wanted to make a friend
Absolutely nothing in exchange
So what did your intuition tell you?
I wanted the evening to end…yet

I trust in goodness of man - I feel a fool
Hey! don’t get all sentimental on me
Always look at the bright side of things
At least your cold saved you, from a thorough fuck



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