There is always a trade-off.  Always.  For me, writing is the product of anger, pain, misery, or general annoyance.  Happiness negates this.  I’m a willing participant in the latter, so I accept the lack of the former with a smile.  But, at least for tonight, I’m temporarily re-visiting the annoyed realm for the sake of catharsis.  I figure I can work out what I’m thinking and feeling if I write it down, at the cost of a night’s sleep.  What’s one more night?

Continuing the theme of trade-offs, my life.  Because of my career choice, I’m gone from home.  It’s taken a toll on everybody involved, and I know I’m to blame.  I have always been sort of the mediator within my family, and been the person to talk/vent to for my brother, and more currently my lady-friend.  So my brother is going through some pretty bumming stuff, and all he can do is text me.  It sucks, because I went through the same things two years ago.  And I cannot be there for the person that probably looks up to me more than anybody.  It isn’t fair to him.  He willingly watched me for the year and half of my wretchedness, listening whenever I cared to use him as an out, kept up on all my posts, and was just there in general.  To not be able to return the favor, at the very least, it kills me.  I am sorry.

Also, I know that others have suffered.  I’m not as good of a friend I could be, I’m never home, and I’m always doing something.  I know, I know.  It sucks, I hate it.

And it seems it has taken the biggest toll on the lady-friend.  Not that this was entirely unexpected.  Underestimated, perhaps, but I fully realized the strain I was putting on us.  I moved forward because I was that confident in us.  As Hunter S. Thompson said, “Our energy would simply prevail.”  We just click.  To blather on just allows for terrible hyperbole, but really, it fits.  We’re a match, in my eyes.  Whatever pushed me to pursue her last December was clearly the enzyme for what, if clearer heads prevail, should be the remainder of my time upon this planet.  And now it gets sketchy.

The distance has manifested itself in the form of heightened insecurity on her part.  For the record, I’d like to point to my record of having never cheated as proof that this insecurity is ill-placed.  Regardless, I have been patient, telling her over and over and over that there is nothing to worry about.  This hiccup of a few years is nothing, relatively speaking.  And yes, it sucks that I cannot be there to comfort her at every turn, but at the same time, I don’t think I should have to walk on eggshells in order to maintain her fragile demeanor.  This is like accepting her insecurities as valid, rather than quelling them once and for all.  For instance, I had homework tonight.  This being the case, I told her that I probably couldn’t talk to her on the phone tonight.  She then responds by asking, “Why don’t you want to talk to me?”  (Insert face-palm here.)  So I shot off a response about how anytime I couldn’t talk she seemed to take it like I didn’t want to talk to her or that I hated everything and everybody and all that jazz.  Simply put, I snapped a little.  I realize that, but again, it’s frustrating to have to constantly gauge what I say in order to keep the peace.  I am not there, it sucks, but you’re not the only one dealing with that.  Figure out that I’m not going anywhere.  I need nothing but to love you.  Really, I’m good.  This is why it seems like I’m dealing so easily.  Believe me, I know the feeling of lonely nights pretty well.  At the end of the day, though, I know that at some point this will all be over and done with.  And everything will be hunky-dory.  I am determined to get us through all of this nonsense.  Constantly stressing about me not talking is unhealthy, and unwarranted.  Throw what you think you know about relationships away, because that isn’t who I am.  I am everything that is opposite of your past.  I am me.

So I’ll probably catch some flak for that bit of popping off.  Oh well, I’m done treading lightly.  I’ve steeled my words long enough.  Here’s to a decent rant.  Here’s to the inevitable response.  Here’s to love and change.  Love is the change.

That just about does it for me tonight.  As far as anything else interesting, all I have is SKYRIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  *Said casually* It’s okay, I suppose.  *Real reaction* Dear sweet holy figure I do quests like heroin.  I snort monsters and the Assassin’s Guild like cocaine.  And any other drug-game references you prefer.  Basically, it’s pretty sweet.  Beautiful scenery, huge map, and what looks to be an almost limitless amount of side-quests.

Alright, I am really going to go this time.  I have nothing more to say to you peasants.  Just kidding, thanks for reading.  ”Thank you for your time, you’ve been so much more than kind.  You can keep the dime.”  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  I have a serious Jim Croce addiction.

First, the rejuvenation.  As you may well know, I have enrolled in college to pursue a career in acting.  For quite some time, I was very ‘meh’ about it all.  My classes have been so monotonous that there wasn’t really anything getting through.  Lecture, lecture, assignment, lecture.  It’s annoying.  But today was the first time I actually had the opportunity to ‘act’ in class.  Granted, it was only two one-minute skits, but it was an enzyme to my lethargy.  I remembered exactly why I loved doing what I’m studying.  The rush, the idea of entertaining others, and yes, the attention.  If that’s vain, fine, I can just attribute it to being an actor.  Kidding, of course, but I really like knowing that people are getting satisfaction from my acting.  It will give me enough of a high to keep me going until the next time I get to perform, whenever that is.

(A pause to let you know that I, again could not finish this in one sitting.  The forthcoming part was typed almost two weeks after the former.)

It has been only with a great amount of effort and mental wrestling that I tackle this next subject.  I have pondered it numerous times, but until now I did not think I could properly do it justice.  Personally, I doubt even now that I will, but I’m feeling sprightly this evening.

I have examined, at great length, my current state of being in comparison with my previous state.  I haven’t realized until awhile ago just how happy I am.  It’s tough for me, writing about being happy.  Misery is so much easier because it’s kind of a cop out.  It’s easy to vent, it’s not easy to explain happiness without coming off looking like a snarky douche, but I shall try.

I still stick wholeheartedly to the statement that lost love is a more powerful emotion than love.  I know this to be true, which may sound contradictory to my whole happy schpeel, but bear with me.  I am quite certain I’m in love, again.  I’m very high on positive emotion, and it’s a great ride.  I know, though, that were I ever to have this emotion taken from me, what would fill the void would hurt exponentially more than the good it did me.  I don’t know if that’s a particularly healthy way to gauge how happy you are, but it’s the only terms I can put it in to explain it to myself.  I understand how much I love her based on the fact that were I to lose all of this, it would kill me more than the happiness it has brought.  Hmm.  Odd.

I was obviously slightly fogged by my emotion of bitterness and cynicism back then, and I know I wasn’t the greatest person to be around.  I think, for the most part, I have reconciled that.  I act happier because I am happier.  I wake up knowing that I have another half (this is getting cheesy), and that my ivory tower has been scaled, invaded, and toppled (albeit only a few floors of toppling).  I’m tempered a bit, and my tongue has become a lot less sharp, generally speaking.  I reserve the incredibly shrewd for when it needs to be done.  (Most of my readers may be able to pull a few recent references of this.)  I am more social, not entirely by choice mind you, but I think it has done me some good.  If nothing else, I get to meet more people to bitch about.  I find that even though I’m incredibly happy, my distaste for people in general remains very strongly.  More on that in a bit.

It is very, very tempting to compare relationships and amounts of happiness, but that wouldn’t be fair at all.  Too many extraneous factors and circumstances that are beyond human control prevent any reasonably fair comparison to be made.  Maturity, age, distance, etc. all are vastly different and not something that would make for a….Okay, let’s just stop there.  I’m trying to level it out in my mind, and I don’t want to.  I want to go with the notion that I am soaringly content, in regards to the here, now, and the recent past.  To say this once and for all on this blog, I love you, Morgan.  Ah, relieving.  Now, let’s revisit my dislike of people.

Well, not complete distaste as it is so much a completely different wavelength.  My mind runs on a very different plane than most folks.  That sounds snooty, doesn’t it?  It isn’t meant to be.  Jamaal, Allen, Garic, and Drew (kind of) all have the same wiring, more or less.  It’s off the beaten path, even for somebody into Theatre.  I find that my sense of humor is not like many people’s.  I cannot quite explain it properly.  How I tell a story within my circle of close friends seems to work only for them.  Outside of that, people don’t seem to get the ridiculousness of the situation.  I think it is because only we perceive the situations to be odd.  A solid example is that of my ex-ex lady friend, the one that I refer to as crazy.  Mountains of stories abound in regards to her, and each is as humorous as it is asinine.  If it wasn’t first hand accounts, I’d have to say most of it was fictional.  In any case, the little group has had countless hours of laughs at my expense, as have I.  These conversations invariably lead into odder and stranger scenarios, causing more laughs.  However, when I recount these same tales, and others, to the folks around me, it’s like I’m just ‘meh/courtesy laugh.’  I’m not offended, I just don’t get it.  How can a select few find something raucously funny, but nobody else?  Silly question, I realize.  I could say they just don’t ‘get’ it, but that’s douchey.  My very dry, but somehow outlandish, sense of humor is not the norm.  Oh well, I refuse to give in to Will Ferrell and that nonsense.  I’m rambling, let’s wrap it up.

This has been a shitty post.  I know, bite me.  I am tired, and my apathy and need to express overrode the quest for quality.  This is what you get.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  If yourself sucks, change it.

I find it incredibly disingenuous that I said, “Here we go” without actually knowing where this post is going.  Hmm, let me think.  Well, I suspect one of my friends to still be going down a path of stupidity.  Refer to a few posts earlier, add in that I gave him a complete verbal-lashing, and that now it seems that it has made no significant impact, and you have why I am slightly annoyed.  Like before, I have no indisputable proof, but, I wasn’t wrong before.  Oh well, part of me hopes it all goes to shit so things finally get cleared up once and for all.  Damn shame to see it go down so poorly, but there doesn’t seem to be any hope left.

Moving on from that travesty of idiocy, and moving into another.  I have recently undertaken to consistently arguing with a lady on Facebook who spews stupidity like a baby spews…spew.  It’s a fun little game, to be sure, but at the heart of it all, I am truly appalled that the Christian faith is being represented by somebody who shows us in such a bad light.  Needless to say I have my faults, and many they are, but I think that I balance out for the most part.  Yes, I am an insensitive prick of the highest degree, but I won’t judge you on things you cannot change.  I expect the least out of humanity, but I hope for peace, love, and oneness.  You won’t see me waving the Christian or American flag in your face or throwing the Bible at you, but at the same time, if you want to know about God, I’ll do what I can, and I believe that it is the right of the people to believe what they want and live how they feel is best for them.  So when I see somebody who is as blatantly racist, ignorant, hateful, propaganda-based, fear-mongering, and all around stupid as she, it really harshes my mellow.  It’s people like her that propagate the idea that Christianity is a bunch of crazy Bible thumpers.  While that label works for some people, I simply do not fit that bill.  I love me some Jesus, and I think it’s a fundamental law that He loved everybody.  That means straights, whites, blacks, Left, Right, and yes, even gay people!  I know that may shock, and even offend some idiots.  Deal with it, already.  People like her will almost never be convinced out of their beliefs, sadly.  Idiots of her making are so entrenched into greedily licking up the fear/hate propaganda ejaculate of the media that’s fed to them that reality has no way of penetrating a mind so densely filled with fallacy.  And again, that’s sad.  I know that I’m supposed to look upon such souls with empathetic eyes, but I think it is my, and people in general, duty to first defend those that she (and any others like her) bigot against.  Not to put myself up on a pedestal and claim I’m some amazingly glorious activist or some malarkey, I’m not.  And like I said, I’m sure that nearly none of what I say has any affect on such a diseased mind, but there has to be a counter-point to somebody like that.  I take great pride in being that counter-point.  I stand firm to the ideals taught to me by my parents.  Love people for who they are.  Do not hate.  Everybody, regardless of what they do or what lifestyle they lead, is a person.  People have rights, and based on those values, I very strongly support human rights.  That folks, to make myself look incredibly vain, is Christianity.  Love, love, love.  Unconditional.  We do not get to set the conditions of what constitutes acceptance, because not a single one of us could ever live up to God’s standards.  So who are we to say others aren’t worthy?  Who are we to deny people basic human rights?  I’m absolutely sick and tired of utter morons going unchecked pigeonholing certain groups of people.  Ignorance is an umbrella term I use to define a lot of things, but I think I could interchange it with you and still be pretty accurate.  I sincerely hope you read this.  I have, up until this point, been incredibly nice, polite, and overall gentlemanly in my arguments.  I challenge you to respond.  The cards are on the table.  I fully recognize the irony of me preaching love and then lambasting you within the same post.  I ignore it.  Not only because this is my blog and we now play by my rules, but also because when it comes down to it, people like you are dangerous.  Disillusioned, misinformed, and with a great burden of hate in their heart, yet you still have a voice.  Freedom of speech is such a double-edged sword.  It can be used as a great peace-making tool, like Dr. King.  Or, as you have chosen, it can be made into a disgusting Mr. Hyde/Fred Phelps version of the former.  A tool used to shove hate and bigotry down the throats of others, foolishly thinking that you’re doing God’s work.  In no way is depriving/pigeonholing/discriminating/bigoting a group of people God’s work.  In this respect, I would like to apologize on behalf of whomever sorely misguided you.  I’m also deeply saddened for the people you turn away with your words.  Because of the things you say, the Christian faith will never know how many people we have lost out on.  I cannot fathom the insecurity you may have caused within some people’s hearts and faith, simply because they aren’t “Bible perfect.”  Look at yourself, at the things you post.  Examine all of the crap that litters your mind, your public image.  From a religiously fence-riding standpoint, would you even think about God if your Facebook page were the example that you had to go by?  Personally, I’m glad I knew Christ before I knew you.

I think, probably, I have done enough damage for this evening.  I really found my direction quickly, didn’t I?  Well, it just kind of bled out of my mind.  It’s been a long time since I have had a post like that.  If I’m lucky, it’s a sign of things to come.  Another upside, I can sleep soundly now.  Such a shame I have to get up at 7:30 AM.  Another quick shout out to Jamaal for finding happiness.  Seems redundant, but I’m glad for you, man.  Hope your blessings keep abounding.  You deserve them.  That does it for me.  Until next time, America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  Love is all you need.

I didn’t foresee myself doing this.  I was happy going to Pitt State and getting a degree in Secondary Education and just living out my life as a teacher.  But the thought of being able to make a career out of acting was too tempting to let slip away.  I enrolled at Missouri State, which is located in Springfield, the aforementioned two hours away. This is a major turn from what I had planned for myself, but I know it’s the right move.  And it sucks, knowing I’m going to be so far away from everybody I love, but it’s what has to be done.  So when I get constantly sniped at for leaving, it hurts…a lot. This post is me taking the time and thanking some folks individually for being there, and say a temporary goodbye to them as well.  Mark my words, this is going to suck.  Here we go, in no particular order.

———–Note: Started this before I left, and am now picking it up the night I returned to Springfield after my first weekend home.———

Garic, my brajah, and one of my best friends.  Fuck man, I know we lost some time that I wish we could have back, and that blows.  I’m sorry I was such a McAsshole.  I’m going to miss you so damn much.  Gaming it up, the talks on the way to Jamaal’s, bullshittin’, and just chilling in general.  You are so much smarter and deeper than a lot of people give you credit for, but I’m one of the lucky few who have gotten to know you over the long course of time we’ve been related.  When you posted on your blog that you thought I could make it as an actor, I damn near choked up.  I appreciate all the confidence you have in me.  Thank you.  This paragraph should be infinitely longer, but I cannot seem to really drag it out any further.  Don’t hesitate to come up and see me anytime, and when you do, fuckin’ bring the 360.  I love you, my good sir.

M’lady, Morgan, is up next.  I’m not really good at this whole schpeel, as you’ve undoubtedly read/heard/witnessed.  We’ve been dating eight months, and it seems like so much longer, in a good way.  To put it simply, we fucking rock as a couple, and regardless of whatever miff or tiff we may have, I wouldn’t trade us for the world…well, maybe the world…just kidding.  I realize this is really hard on you, and I haven’t been very sensitive to the situation.  All I can say is that you have nothing to worry about, and I think my close friends and family can vouch for me.  I love you, and we will be together for the foreseeable future, and beyond that.  Again, the paragraph should be longer, but I’m terrible at being anything but pointed.

Dad, you gave me a job over the past year, and within that year we’ve had some awesome days.  I really am going to miss that place, regardless of how much longer it may or may not be there.  Thank you, I love you, and keep Garic’s ass busy.

Harlee, you’re my lovely sister who is too grown up for her own good.  I know you really hate when I’m gone, and I hate it too.  Just remember that I’ll always be home at some point, and that until then you can always call me.  I love you very much, little sister, and I promise I’ll be home as much as I can.

Drew, you’re one of my best friends, and it sucks that our lives are taking us in different directions.  We’ve definitely had our wrinkles, but I will always think nothing but gloriousness about you, because you have always been there for me.

Allen, another of my closest confidantes.  I’m not really sure what is going on with you, and I’m sorry it is that way.  I wish you still considered yourself close enough to all of us to let us know what was up, but until then, just know that I’m always here for an ear.  Like Drew, we’ve had our bouts, but without you I’m not sure what kind of person I would be today.  We are drifting because of our life choices, but I will always think nothing but highly of you, and I wish you the very best in whatever field you finally decide to settle on.  Lol.

Mom, I love you.  You’ve always been there, and you have always known how to be a mom.  Whether silent or with your words, nobody could have done a better job rearing me, and I give a shout out to the Big Man Upstairs for blessing me with such a wonderful woman.  I miss being home a lot, and you’re a large part of that.  It sucks not being able to wake up to you and Mel’s cooking, talking, and general being.  Thank you both for everything you have done for me, and I miss you and love you guys.

Finally, Jamaal.  Besides my mother, I credit you with having the single most impact on my life.  And it’s not really fair to you, either, because it was pretty much thrust upon you.  You showed me how to not care, basically.  Because of you, I started to question shit around me, and I realized I didn’t much like what I saw.  You showed me music, movies, and reading.  I cannot thank you enough for just being there.  Having a place to just be, it really let me figure out who I was during a few hectic time periods in my life.  Gaming, music, reading, culture, and talking, through good, bad, happiness, heartbreaks, life, and death; I’ve been able to come and leave it all behind at your doorstep.  It’s an entirely different world inside of your little room, and I am forever grateful to be a part of it.  It blows that I cannot come over more, at least for me.  I miss the weekend binges of movies and chatting, staying up until 7 AM just discussing any number of asinine scenarios.  We’re both changing, there’s no denying that.  In a sense, I guess you could say we are growing up.  Me with college and you with your lady-friend.  Fuckin’ a, man.  As I’ve said before, nobody deserves it more than you.  At the end of the day, all of the bitching I ever did about any of my situations never truly held a candle to yours, and yet you always made light of it.  I will always consider you one of the most influential people in my life.  Thank you for listening to the droves of shit I’ve vented, without complaint;  and thanks for being one of my best friends.

Looking back, I realize how ridiculous this post is going to sound, considering I just seen most of you within a twelve hour period.  Still, I needed to finish this.  I started it, then put it off because I did not want to truly say goodbye to everything.  And even though it really is only temporary, a week is the norm, it sucks ass.  I want to see everybody.  I want to wake up to Mom and Mel’s breakfast burritos, go to work with Dad, come home and play the Wii at the house with everybody, then bomb out of there and head to Jamaal’s with Garic to shoot the shit with everybody, and close the evening at about 2 AM with me falling asleep with my arms wrapped around my lovely lady.  But I can’t, at least not for a week.  Goodbye to romance, goodbye to friends.  Goodbye to all of this.  Fuck, I’m homesick, and I just left.

Well, that about does it for me.  Best case scenario, I become miserable from withdrawals and am able to write again.  Here’s hoping.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude.

P.S.  Never be afraid to think for yourself.

One of my four best friends (my brother having recently achieved the rank, although I think I subconsciously always acknowledged him) has a…hmm…situation, for lack of a better term.  Jamaal is reconnecting, I guess, with a lady he knew (she knew him, he recalls her sister) from his past.  I cannot really explain any further without messing it all up.  All I can say is that I find it highly odd, but at the same time, right on for him.  Who am I to say ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ to something that makes somebody else happy?  Well, I actually do that all the time, but he is one of the exceptions.  And while on the surface he says he doesn’t want to give up his lazy life (which I totally believe, and respect), I think that somewhere not too deep down he enjoys the contact, and clear affection, of somebody aside from his niece/nephews and we chaps who go over there.  If there anybody that deserves some good karma thrown their direction, it’s him.  Whether or not this situation pans out to be good karma has yet to be determined.  For now I remain skeptically neutral, if there is such a thing, but not cynical as per my usual self.  Because of that, I have made a vow to myself not to be an over-prick should I happen to chance upon them during a meetup.  I figure he’s given me so damn much, why not let him try to be happy?  And I know it sounds like I’m applauding myself for nothing, but then you would be underestimating how easy it is for me to zing my sharp tongue around and not even know that I’m offending anyone.  So, there you go, it’s no longer just to myself.  I promise not to be a dick when/if we meet, and I wish the whole thing the best, whatever the best may be.

Oh, sweet deity, this is the part I’ve been avoiding.  If the first subject seemed half-assed, I apologize.  It wasn’t, but I was just trying to think while I wrote.  I have decided that the best way is to post a poem about the upcoming subject, then dive right into the whole kit ‘n’ caboodle.  This is my title.  I have taken it upon myself (to both my joy and dismay, if that’s possible) to say what needs to be said.  Well, here we go.  This poem has no title, so I’ll dub it “I’ve Been There.”

A waste of talent is a wasted life.

Deceit runs thick and imbeds like a knife.

Loyalties taken for granted.

With the plants you’ve sewn from the seeds you planted.

Yeah, I’ve been there, I’ve fallen.

I’ve been there, I’ve crashed.

I’ve been there when all that’s left were memories and ash.

But when everything is said and done, and we’re the only place to turn.

You’ll look and find there are no more bridges you can burn.

Who are you now?

Do you even know?

With every question, my impatience has grown.

Self-delusion is your illusion.

God given gifts, tossed aside, thrown.

Yeah, I’ve been there, I’ve broken.

I’ve been there, I’ve cried.

I’ve been there when all that’s left were endless nights and lies.

But when everything is said and done, and we’re the only place to turn.

You’ll look and find there are no more bridges you can burn.

Stop trying to be what you’re not.

Because reality is nigh.

Find your way to solid ground.

Because the tide is getting high.

Yeah, I’ve been there, my darkest hour.

I’ve been there, I’ve “defied”.

I’ve been there when I thought all the love around should die.

But when everything is said and done, and we’re the only place to turn.

You’ll look and find there are no more bridges you can burn.

The curtain is falling on your charade.

The game is up, the tune’s at end.

And a single tear escapes my eye.

What the fuck happened to my friend?

Yeah, I’ve been there when you fallen.

I’ve been there when you crashed.

I’ve been there when all that’s left were memories and ash.

Now everything’s almost said and done, and I’m still here for you to turn.

But you’re pissing it all away, and I’m done with being burned.

Yep, there ya go.  Anybody familiar with myself probably has a general idea of who I’m talking about.  Sadly, I must say that in that poem I just got through lambasting one of my best friends.  However, I’m switching it up a bit.  Instead of the normal friend I chew out, Allen, I’ve gone another route.  Drew, his brother, seems to have completely lost his way, and this annoys me greatly.

Let’s give a little back story.  Drew is incredibly smart, gifted in art, decently athletic, and overall a good guy.  We were really close throughout Junior High up through my Junior year, and I shall always rank him among my closest and truest friends and confidantes.  During that time period, however, something happened that has caused him to careen off into this downward spiral that has a high probability of exploding in his face.

He dated this chick during his Sophomore year for a bit, and they broke up, much to his dismay.  Now, when I say much, I mean way much, as in he’s not had a legitimate relationship since.  He fell in ‘Drew Love’, which is I term I made up about fifteen seconds ago.  I say this because he has no true concept of the concept (Is that grammatically acceptable?).  And that seems mean and hateful, which it probably is, but at the same time, they only dated for a handful of months…maybe.  They weren’t ever “the perfect couple”.  In fact, he caught flak all the time because she was still in Junior High.  But he claims to have loved her, so I use “Drew Love” as a compromise, although I don’t exactly see it flying well.  Meh, I’m in over my head already.  Moving on.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking.  You’re probably going back over the droves and droves of posts I wrote about my lost love.  Fair is fair.  Of course there is a stark difference between the two relationships.  Our feeling was mutual.  To what extent, I can never be sure, and at this point it is no matter, but I do believe that while we were dating, she loved me.  This was not close to close to close to being apparent with his lady.  At best, she looked uncomfortable all the time.  Alright, now let’s fast forward a few years to a bit in the past/present day.

Drew’s not having a romantic interest has been a running joke for quite some time.  His insistence that he is ‘smooth’ makes his complete lack of evidence of said smoothness exponentially funnier.  I have to say, though, that this whole dung heap of a situation with the younger lass across the street is aggravating more than just me (Probably wrong of me to speak for others.  Apologies, folks.).  And I know they’ve both denied everything.  Malarkey I say.  I think there’s a chigger in the woodpile, and I think we’ve been told half-truths and outright lies.  I figured we, of all people, would be worth your honesty.  Piss on you, then.

Above everything, though, I find his lack of motivation for education to be the most annoying.  His fatal flaw is caring (deeply) what others think of him.  The image he tries to portray is not only not him, it’s not even a good fake.  Anybody can see that the front you put up is not what you’re good at.  He’s taking a year off because he doesn’t know what he wants to major in while everybody on God’s green Earth can see that he should be an Art major; but, since it doesn’t fit his ‘image’, he’s blown it off totally.  I’ll take a step back from the rant and toss you some free advice.

Embrace what you are.  Who gives two shits what people say?  I act, so I guess I’m gay, right?  Who cares if people think that?  I’ll get up on stage every night and love every minute of it.  You are not a jock, you are not an All-Star athlete.  You’re a fair to decent ballplayer who is an amazing artist.  I’ve seen you when you draw.  It’s something to behold.  You’re never more focused, more intent and attentive.  That’s you.  Be that guy.  Do you not realize how much it frustrates all of us to see you pissing away your talent?  Chucking away your gift, why?  I challenge you to respond.  I think at the very least you could explain yourself.  Until then, you sir, may kindly fuck yourself.  For one, it’s a lot more le…nevermind.  And secondly, it would take the middle finger out of God’s and our asses from pulling all this shit.

This will not go over well, of that I can be sure.  Harsh criticism is not really up his alley.  I do not care.  Drew, I love you like a brother, but I cannot stand silent anymore and watch you fuck off what could be a pretty amazing life.  There, I’ve said what needs to be said.

The funny thing is that I don’t feel like I did a good enough job.  This is the first time I’ve ever seriously doubted the effectiveness of my writing.  When I bitched before, I knew I would get a rouse, but now, I fear he’s too far gone to admit to us/himself that shit needs changing, or that he just doesn’t care at all.  Here’s a quick shout-out/plug to God/Christianity asking for my words to have the effect needed.

Well, that does it for me.  I await either a response or a punch in the nose.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  Never be afraid to think.

Today is July 4th, better known to us Yanks as Independence Day.  If you know me, then you know I find ‘patriotism’ completely stupid.  Facebook posts talking about how you should re-post if you’re an American that, if you love Jesus that, and ‘Join if you think that walruses are a result of habitual crossbreeding and incest of mammoths and seals.  (A group of which I’m a proud member.)  Okay, so that last bit was a little off track, but you see my point.  So, by connecting the dots, you would come to the conclusion that I hate Independence Day.

And you would be wrong, you stupid assuming motherfuckers, you.  I really like this holiday, because as much as I bitch and moan about the people in this country, you won’t find a better set of borders to live inside.  You just won’t.  I mean, we have a holiday to blow shit up just to remind the blokes across the pond who is really who’s Daddy.  If that’s not freedom, I know not the meaning of the word.

This is where the fear and loathing come in.    There are people out there who in fact do not know the meaning of the word.  I hate these types of people.  Why?  One, because they are stupid.  Two, because they think they know what freedom is, making them even stupider.  If you watch TV, I am sure you have borne witness to the ridiculousness that they spew.  It’s the people that think the government is oppressive, that our freedom is being taken away, that we have no rights.  Scare tactics that incite fear and loathing into people.  It’s how elections are won, and lost.  And what gets me the most is that nobody seems to realize that simply by bitching about how we are losing so much do they totally contradict themselves.  Free speech is an unalienable right that people exercise all the time to show that we are being oppressed…what?

Do these folks not see how liberal of a country we are?  That word scares people, liberal, but it should not.  It defines who we are.  The United States is highly liberal.  If we weren’t, we would be a totally different country…like China, or the United States of Nixon.

I love George Carlin, but I really disagree with him when it comes to this fact.  We have rights.  I couldn’t post this in a lot of places, because it’s too critical.  I can here, because we’re just that awesome.

It simply doesn’t make sense to me.  Some of the things people regularly say here would get you thrown in the clink in other countries.  Shit man, some of the stuff would get you killed.  People try and come to the U.S. illegally just to be able to speak their minds, and yet people here complain because they may not be able to buy fully automatic AK-47′s.  The amount of pointless arguing and talking and talking and talking and talking about how fucked up this country is, and how we’re headed for doom is enough to drive me insane.  Just stop.  You cannot fool me.  You cannot scare me.  I’ll put your head through a damn table and paddle your ass until you start blubbering on about all of those times your Uncle Jim poked you in your boom boom.  Ah, you people piss me Right off.  (Yeah, it’s supposed to be capitalized.)

My point in all of this being, enjoy this country.  It’s great for a reason, because people (braver than the assholes on TV, and less lazy than myself) gave their lives to a cause.  Granted, the cause is not always what we see as favorable, but we have the right to talk about it.  But instead of always complaining, why not shutting the fuck up and being happy?  Take me, for example.  Month after month blathering on about the same monotonous crap.  I take a moment to be happy, and it infects me.  I don’t see the need to bitch all the time, now.  Why?  Because happiness is what the United States is.  People have truly lost sight of that, I think.  Always moving on, more, more, more, money, money, money, power, power, power.  And when they cannot attain more, it is the fault of the country, and those running it.

Do not complain because you cannot have more.  Breathe, relax, enjoy, love.  It has done wonders for me.  To quote John Lennon, “I’m just sittin’ here watchin’ the wheels go ’round and ’round.”  Indeed, and I almost feel sorry for those who are constantly worrying about the state of the country, where and how we will go, and who should lead us.  Meh, if we do one thing right, we survive.  Regardless of who is President, if they’re capable or not, public opinion, issues, anything, the U.S. has always managed to keep her steady as she goes.  Just take it easy, man, as The Dude says.

So yeah, I enjoy Independence Day.  Freedom of expression, ya know?  Another one of those unalienable rights.  And as I sit in my room, locked away from the fireworks, hearing the thunder of the explosions, it again shows how awesome we are.  Where else in the world could you hear explosions outside of your house and not even think twice?

Well, that does it for me.  I have no clue when I will blog again.  It’s whenever something semi-inspirational hits, I suppose.  I’m highly shocked that this panned out to be over one thousand words.  I really am amazing.  Until next time, Independent America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  Totally pulled of the cameo.  Just sayin’.

I first went there with my good friend Drew.  I was a young chap, making his way through the world by assimilating and blending in.  I didn’t particularly care for anything outside of what the standard at the time was.  So, I would go over there and be voraciously torn apart in Halo, and other miscellaneous games.  This was my perceived purpose of the house at the time.  It was entertainment, it was something to do, and it was glorious.  I was just entering my teenage years, so I was an idiot.  Shallow-minded, typical Southeast Kansan douchebag.

Things change, regardless of whether or not you want them to.  I found this out pretty suddenly.  After a semi-hiatus, I began going over there on a regular basis, until one summer it was just part of the regular flow.  Weights, home, Jamaal’s.  Fuckin’ a.  It was here that I began to find myself becoming increasingly disgusted with what I saw as the norm.  I started to really value knowledge, intelligence, culture, reading, etc.  Music was a big player here.  I have Jamaal, Allen, and Drew to thank for kicking it with me that summer.  It changed who I was, and set me on a path to give the middle finger to this commercialized crap culture swirling around us today.  It was a summer of Classic Rock, NBA 2K, and running to and from Bronson on fumes of fumes of gasoline.

And then things changed again.  My parents split up.  It didn’t tear me up or anything, because I knew it was for the best, but sometimes I felt like I was trying to juggle too much shit at once with school, a crazy ass ex ex girlfriend, and a father who had proven himself moronic.  Jamaal’s was there again.  It was like a defragging of my mind.  Go there and shoot the shit.  Just talk, be with the people who were always there simply because it feels right to be there.  I gained a lot of depth, I think, over those couple of years.  A continuing of music indulgence, reading, and venting really kept things in tact.  Again, I have Jamaal, Allen, and Drew to thank just for being there.  Because of them, I had an out, a way to just be me, whoever that was.  I was finally beginning to figure that out, when everything came crashing down around me.

The vast majority of everybody who have perused this blog probably has a pretty good inkling as to the upcoming story.  I don’t care.  It’s important in the development of both myself and this current blog post.  So, for functionality’s sake, I’ll briefly retell the story.  I fell in love.  It was glorious.  She ended it.  I was really fucked up.  That’s the gist of it.

Extending that second to last sentence a bit, I was horribly fucked up.  It hurt beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, and I had no idea what I was going to do.  She was my world, and I had become so wrapped up and lost in it that once it was over, there was no guide to get me the fuck out of Dodge.  Again, I had a fall-to in Jamaal’s.  The day it happened, within the hour, I was over there.  Laughing my ass off at something completely ridiculous with the three people who had always been there.  It didn’t kill the pain, but damn, it really took it down.  Only three people really have a firm grasp on how bad I hurt, because it was the same folks who were keeping me going on a regular basis.  Giving me music, steering me into different directions with respect to reading and games, talking, theorizing, shooting the shit, anything that kept my mind off the lingering feeling of nothing.  At my lowest, I’m not really sure I can say with 100% confidence that I wouldn’t have done something very fucking stupid without them.  Now that I’m all hunky-dory in finding love again, I look at how idiotic I was.  I refuse to discredit anything I said back then, but I do take it with a grain of salt.

I grew more in that period of time than any other in my life.  Up until my third semester in college, basically.  Watching them deal with all their own problems, and still having time to listen to my whiny ass.  I cannot thank those guys enough for what they have done.  Countless gaming hours, talks, meals, and arguments just because.  I’ve loved every second of it.  It’s made me who I am, saved my life, and kept me sane.

It’s incredible, the bonds and conversations that place has created.  Over the past yearish, we’ve drifted.  Drew with his basketball, myself with Theatre, and Allen with…college, we’ll say.  (Ha.)  I’m not blaming them for that.  I know that we can’t be like we were forever, which is slightly regrettable.  All I can say is that I’m forever thankful for that place, and the people that hang out there.  As my title states, it is the house that Truth built.  Angry, heartbroken, crazy assed ex, family issued, etc.  Whatever it is, it’s Truth.

The terrible thing is that even after all of that writing, I’m doing the whole thing wrong.  There is so much more to this place/story that I can’t explain it properly with words.  It’s hard to explain feelings as is, but for somebody like me, it’s damn near impossible.  I don’t really want this post to sound like I’m wrapping up a chapter of my life, or our lives, or whatever.  I know that’s how it will sound, but that isn’t the intent.  I simply felt the need to express my gratitude to my three best friends, and the place that really mashed us all together.  Thanks.

What’s funny is that I actually had something to bitch about, but fuck it.  I see no need in screwing up a half-decent post with some mindless babbling about an idiotic somebody really grinding my gears.  Perhaps next time.  Welp, that about does it for me.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  Never be afraid to think.  I love you guys.

Let’s not waste time.  I worked the Easter service for the Church of the Nazarene on Sunday.  By work, I mean I showed up, pressed a few buttons, and let one of my close friends handle the majority of the stuff, mainly because he knows more about sound and lights than myself.  In any case, the people that were the praise team were kind of prickish.  They wanted things we didn’t have, and they weren’t exactly the most congenial of people.  Couldn’t sing, either, which I suppose is really irrelevant.

Once the service got started, everybody was all ‘rocking out’.  This is where I get disgusted, and I know it’s going to sound shallow, dickish, and trite.  (Just so we’re clear, I don’t care.)  One of my biggest pet peeves, and I can’t explain it, is watching people ‘praise’ God when they’re singing by raising one hand in the air.  It really grates on my nerves, and it shouldn’t, I realize.  It’s like, “Really?  That’s how you show you love Him so much?  Who are we praising, Aryans-Only Jesus?  Sieg Heil, Christ Almighty!”  Did I take that to a ridiculous extreme?  Yes, yes I did.  But come on, it’s so, so mind-numbingly generic.  It’s hard to believe you’re being moved by the power God when you look exactly like the suit and tie two sets of pews down from you.  To me, it’s people just trying to fit in.  Showing how ‘moved’ they are, how ‘powerful’ the Spirit is by looking like every other Tom, Dick, and Harry in the service.  And this leads me to my next point.

Christianity is commercialized.  Make no bones about it, I love me some Lord.  But, I look around, and it all seems so…fake.  Not the religion, I mean, but the people who claim to follow it.  Like I previously stated, everybody looks the same.  They’re either all dressed up to show how proper and Sunday-holy they are, or they’re trying to make Christianity look ‘cool’, ‘edgy’, and ‘extreme’.  It’s filthy.  I’m fully aware that I’m not a poster-child for the religion, but I’m not its pimp, either.  At what point did the mission change from preaching the word to only having to look the part?  And there it is.  It’s easy to be a Christian on Sunday.  Heck, even I could pass as a decent example.  And why is this, you ask?  Because you’re in a room full of believers.  It’s easy to throw your hand skywards and sing praises to Him of the Highest Hotel, everybody else is doing it.  It’s easy to be ‘moved’ when that is what the trendy thing in your row.  The Spirit is speaking to everybody, praise Him, and don’t ya know that you’re sure as heck ah, feelin’ that burnin’ ah, deep inside yahself ah!  And then you walk out of the sanctuary, and you go back to your normal self.  How often do you see somebody walking down the street, throw their hands upwards and ‘feel’ the Holy Ghost?  Not happening.

I ask a question.  How many of us would be Christians if it weren’t the norm?  Spare me that malarkey about how difficult it is to actually ‘be’ a follower.  It’s not, really.  Ten relatively simple rules that we consciously give the middle finger towards, myself included.  Look at the social aspect.  Who gets more flak, Christians, or any other faith/non-faith?  Yet, followers of Islam bow down and pray, what is it, three times a dayish, publicly.  Even Scientologists are more publicly…faith-showing?  (a.k.a. Craaaaaaazy.)  However, it is the folks of Jesus Christ who seem to have the most trouble acknowledging the fact that they’re followers without looking like a bunch of fake, pushy, assholes that are just following the crowd.

To be fair, I haven’t been fair.  (Did I just blow your mind?)  I blame people for being Sunday-only Christians because it’s easy, then turn around and call the whole system easy to follow.  I suppose that needs some clarification, because I’m making the whole thing sound like there is no pleasing me.  Of course, that’s entirely possible, but I will attempt to find a middle ground.

I have found the middle ground.  It is me.  Go figure.  I occasionally go to church, but you won’t see me dress up for it, nor will I sport a “Crosses are Cool When it’s a Christ-Cross” shirt, or anything of the sort in public.  If you ask me about my faith, I’ll tell you.  However, I’m content with going on about my business, and letting you go on about yours.  Does that make me a bad follower?  Perhaps, but the way I see it is that you can’t go out and ‘preach’ the Word.  It’s ineffective, because the majority of people will just tune you out, writing you off as being just another pushy Christian.  On average, folks do not want to listen to religious talk that differs from their own.  The ones that come to you inquiring, they are the ones who will listen.  It is our job as Christians to go about our lives in a way that gives a good name to Christianity while staying true to who you are.  I’ll admit that I personally need work on the former.  For the most part, however, I think I’m doing alright.  At least I am the real me all the time.

I’ve heard the term “selling out for Christ”.  I think that’s a crock of garbage.  Why?  People can spot a fake in an instant.  Becoming somebody that’s not really who you are, whatever the reason, will never help you accomplish your goals.  You have to keep your identity.  We aren’t all preachers.  We aren’t all ‘on fire for God.’  We just aren’t.  If you have the mindset that you are (when you’re not), and expect to be viewed with any seriousness, that makes you an idiot.

Personally, I know that I’m not going to win any awards for my religious conviction/valor/etc.  And here I am, holding society to a higher standard than I’m attaining.  To quote Hank Moody, “Hence the self-loathing.”  How hypocritical of me.  Well, I figure if the world can achieve a higher plane than the low one of myself, then it’s headed in a positive direction.

Well, that about does it for me.  Odds are I will probably publish this, re-read it, then go back and edit it based on how ridiculous and rambling I want to seem.  Until next time, America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  Do not ever be afraid to think.

I would like to announce to my readers that this post is the umpteenth time I’ve tried to write since my last one.  I say umpteenth because I’ve lost count.  I think I’m really worked up enough to write, but as soon as I hit the ‘New Post’ tab, my mind blanks.  I’m never really sure why I’m writing until I’m done, and even then, half the time I’m iffy.  What can one do, then, but at least try?  Sounds kind of…feeling sorry for myselfish.  This may sound absurd, because my life really hasn’t been better in quite some time.  But there are things that always keep me wondering, frustrated, and discontent.

Let’s start with my profession.  Believe it or not, I do not plan on selling lumber and lumber accessories for the rest of my life.  Fab as that may sound, I’ve had more than my fill of manual labor and minimum wage.  No, I want to be a teacher.  *Pause for ironic humor of ‘minimum wage’ to set in.*  At least, I thought I did.  I had this whole career thing all down and planned out.  Two years at FSCC, two years at Pitt, and then the rest of the foreseeable future teaching English and Theatre.  However, the success of the last show I did, Monky Business, has made me question this.  Success, of course, not in terms of the droves of people (Fort Scott isn’t exactly a haven for the arts.), but in terms of how stinking awesome the show was.  I mean, the cast was killer, the director (who’s getting screwed out of her job, I’ll remind the folks) knew exactly what to do and how to manage us, and we just flat out performed.  I know I can act, but this was the first time that I was like, “Yeah, this is for real, and it’s for me.”  Now I’m stuck with the decision.  Do I risk the lack of job security, or do I go ahead and get my degree in Education, and pursue Theatre in my summers off?  Probably the latter.

Moving on to my personal life.  Actually, I have nothing to complain about here.  My lady and I are pretty well off.  My brother is really digging his new lady-friend, who just so happens to be my lady friend’s best friend.  It’s a total win-win.

So what do I have to complain about?  It’s like this.  This past year and a half, it’s been an absolute dream, and the majority of credit goes to the Theatre director.  It was through Cinderella that I met my lady friend.  Monky Business made me really work for the first time in…well, forever.  It was a true challenge.  I pulled myself out of that terrible place where I resided because I knew I had to step up to the standards of what she required.  And here I now stand, all happy and giddy and what not, and it’s going to be gone within a month, because people are stupid.  This world I’ve formed around me, the majority of the people inside it, gone, just like that.  Spineless, money hungry yes-men, greedily licking the greenback ejaculate of those who draw water in this town.  Nobody cares about how awesome the show was.  Nobody cares that everybody involved with that play worked to their personal limits to make it presentable.  It means nothing to those who ‘control’ the college, and it frustrates me to no end.  You work and work and work, and perform at such a high degree (which you can bet we did), and it still isn’t enough to keep a job for a person that never deserved to get fired in the first place.

Rome isn’t burning, yet.  However, the kindling is definitely in place, the gas poured, and the angry mob is ready with their torches.  My only hope is that I’ll go down inside the ensuing blaze, rather than come out the other side, alone, again.  To be honest, as much as I was content with my isolation, I don’t want to go back.  God, I don’t want that again.  Even as I lay here writing, I realize for the first time how much I’ve come to depend on all of this.  The people, the Theatre, the lady friend.  It’s quite comfy, and it definitely makes for better conversation than…well, none.  But in all seriousness, I’ve shared a lot of good times because of all this, and to see it suddenly taken away from me, and from all of us, it’s such a shame.  Given more time, we could have really taken this department somewhere.  But, I suppose that’s what happens when something other than sports threatens to be successful at FSCC.  Not that we would have had to try very hard, but appease me, I’m trying to make a point.

At the end of the day, I’ll move on.  I have to.  Whatever happens, I’ll adjust.  If I know one thing for sure about myself, it’s that I’m sexy…I mean it’s that I’m good at adjusting on the fly.  Not to discount the fact that I’m sexy.  Sexy and I have been close for quite some time.  We go way back.  First name basis, leave-the-door-open-while-we-pee, sharing undies type of close.

Anyways, I think I may have gotten off track.  Actually, that just about does it for me.  I’m at nine hundred seventy-eight words.  I suppose I should insert a closing here.  Hmm.  Alright, if anybody reads this, please, forward this post to the appropriate people so they can see just exactly what I think of them.  FSCC administration, mainly.  You people suck, but thanks for the scholarship.

That does it for me.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  I hate it here.

First, I will start with a little bit of a personal vent.  I will then move on to something hopefully more meaningful.  I say this because the second subject is the one that really has pissed me off greatly.  Let us roll most groovily.

Writing, for me, is something I enjoy doing.  I’ve tried to brush this off as an emotional outlet, as just a way to cool off, but when push comes to shove, this is what I truly love.  Excuse the rhyme, it really was unintentional.  In any case, while I have quite the time writing, I am also rather self-conscious about it.  It’s the tad bit of OCD that really grates on me.  I’m a perfectionist on the things I can control, and this happens to be one of them.

So, when I cannot write, it hurts.  And don’t get me wrong, I’m not pulling the whole ‘tortured soul’ angle, it just hurts.  True writer’s block is so incredibly frustrating.  Take now, for instance.  Even as I type this, I am beginning to see that it’s shit.  It goes nowhere, and my mind is heavily contemplating deleting it.  While I acknowledge that I am proud of a few of the things I have written, I look at what I’ve attempted recently, and it’s just disgusting.

The point being, I think that proportion is a little skewed.  From this standpoint, ten well-written words are worth about a thousand pictures.  Anytime the picture is worth more than what’s being said, then the writing is meaningless.  Good writing does not need pictures to aid it.  It is its own illustration, and I think a lot of people pass it off very nonchalantly.  My aim is always to give the readers, and normally myself, a picture of what exactly the fuck is going on in my mind and my heart.  If I can’t do that decently, then I may as well pack it up and fuck off with the writing.  So, to segue into my next subject, I’m going to try and paint a picture of absolute fury, with a smattering of frustration and rejection-of-idiocy as well.

I am attending Fort Scott Community College.  Let me first start by saying that I’ve been given a pretty sweet deal of an opportunity monetarily.  Because of my assorted scholarships, I’ve been able to save up a nice chunk of change for when I attend a real college…er…I mean, a university, next fall.  In any case, I’m giddy as a school girl for having this work out as much to my advantage as it has.  Having said all of that, I will now proceed to pinpoint some ridiculousness with the way this joint is run.

Within the college, I am active in very few things, mainly because I am lazy.  Now that my days as the mascot are behind me, I can fully look to something that doesn’t involve over-sized fur costumes.  Actually, since last semester, I have been involved with the Theatre program at the college.  I like acting, I’m good at, and I’d done it in high school.  It makes sense, so why I felt the need to justify it in the previous sentence is beyond me.  Moving on.  Not to totally discredit anybody (which is exactly what I’m doing), but what I’ve learned in a semester and half there is exponentially more than three years of high school nonsense.  After half a quarter in high school, I realized it didn’t exactly take too much to look good at a 2A level, especially when that school and town is Uniontown.  So, most everything I knew, I just did because it seemed right.  Now, I’ve actually been able to learn something about acting, and Theatre in general (Learning, by the way, is not really required at FSCC.  I don’t think administering well is, either.).  Whatever the case may be, I have gained an immense amount of knowledge and respect for the art.  A large part of why I have so thoroughly enjoyed the department is the instructor, who easily cracks my Top 2.  She has been around pretty much all aspects of the business, and she doesn’t put up with anybody’s stupidity.  While I think very highly of somebody that isn’t a kiss-ass, it would seem that others do not find this to be such a highly observed quality.  As of today, it has been officially…officialized, I suppose, that her contract will not be renewed, at the recommendation of the President of the College.  This pisses me off.

It is not warranted, you see.  I believe it is more of a schmoozers being schmoozers.  Giving a damn good instructor the axe because they speak their mind, and refuse to conform to the Rules of Southeast Kansas.  But, that’s how people around here work.  If something, or somebody, is different, they’re not ‘normal’.  That automatically makes them bad, and steps must be taken to purge the system of such uncleanliness.  You’re not allowed to think outside the normal.  Don’t speak up, don’t think for yourself, don’t do for yourself.  Go through the motions, smile, and shut the fuck up.  Psh.  When you take out the trash, don’t you typically start at the top?  I think doing this would heavily alleviate a lot of stupidity within this establishment.  Alas, it is not within my power, so I am subjected to writing this simple blog post describing my anger.  It’s disgusting, watching people jerk off their dignity into the hands and wallets of those who could give money to the school.  Injustice and idiocy – Better known as the President of FSCC.  You’re quite welcome.

I cannot begin to even tell you how much this post does my anger an injustice.  It does, however, ebb the tide a bit.  Enough to perhaps let me sleep.  I do believe I am done for the evening.  Until next time America.  Take it easy, and peace.

The Dude

P.S.  I fucking hate it here.