11/23/2014 4:05:48 PM: Sometimes it seems that whispers of my sanity punctuate an otherwise all black canvas. I've waited for that punctuation for about 3 days now. It came this evening dressed in black, surrounded by smooth skin and almond eyes that kindle when they look upon me. There are times when my darkness feeds hers and we snap and bite at each other like two wolves. We both end bloodied, injured. She always more so than myself I never stop until she is mortally wounded. Then we heal sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker together, separate. But tonight, she understands my weariness. She can read the tension that holds my shoulders so stiffly poised like a soldier, she says. Tonight she slides beside me on the sofa and lays her head in my lap. We sit there in silence. The suit I am wearing carries the marks of my day wrinkled and barely able to cling to any part of its former glory. Then I feel her fingers reach up and loosen my neck tie. Her skin feels cool as it brushes mine And I can feel the tension start to wane.

6/11/2013 2:42:34 PM: I close my eyes and I feel the ache that forms almost immediately behind the lids. I am tired. My fingers move restlessly to type this before I try again, stupidly, to sleep. I may as well try to Windex my eyes to turn them blue. I am prowling, yes, but without the energy to engage in anything worthwhile. I am passive, in a daze almost-a self-induced state of uncaring. While my corrosive nature still comes through the haze quite easily, I take no real interest in the pain my words inflict. I am rather like a well-fed predator – not eager to engage, but still quite capable of doing harm. Some of this comes from my problem, that I spoke of earlier, which I addressed and carried out rather efficiently, but the rest comes from the lack of sleep I have experienced in the last 2 weeks. I am not drinking coffee. I miss the smell of coffee in my house.

3/17/2013 3:31:10 AM: I’ve come to realize something very important.   I have only so much room in my head.   Lately I’ve been filling my time – and my brain – with TED talks, Kahn academy lectures, web-found life tips, inspirational quotes, harmonica lessons…. You get the idea. It’s like I’m trying to level up.   But it doesn’t work that way. I won’t finish watching a TED talk on the importance of classical music and suddenly become enlightened. There’s no SHAZAM!-like quote that will transform me into ‘The Renaissance Man’.   Nirvana is not a youtube video away.   I envision my head as a bookshelf. Some ideas and skills fit into nicely. Scientific method? Simple, elegant, easy to learn and implement – it’s like a slender leather-bound book that fits neatly on one end of the bookshelf. Save ten percent of my income for retirement? Not a problem.   But how about the principle of ‘Always be good to others.’? Not so easy to fit – some things you do are good for some people, but not good for others; how do you reconcile that? What happens when being good goes against your own self-interest? It’s a big idea. It’s like placing a large, weird, abstract sculpture on the shelf. It’s not easy to follow every day, in every act I do. But it’s an idea worth striving for.   And! At least I can get my mind around that idea. There are some that I just can’t grasp in a meaningful way. Stuffing those ideas into my head is like trying to keep a sack of playful kittens in one place. There’s no way. And that’s fine – maybe I’m not ready for that idea. Or maybe it just isn’t the right idea for me. But back to the point.   There’s only so much room in my head. And sometimes I try and cram in a bit too much. I’m not saying I plan to stop watching TED talks – really, they kinda rock. But I think I’m going to slow down on collecting character-building facts, and focus on better understanding the pieces I’ve already got in place.

6/5/2012 2:49:18 PM: I am the ragged poetthe scarecrow of wordsmy verses are unwashed,dirty and rank but she loved them she was the hours in curvesmaking art of her fleshboth sinuous and sweetand she reminded me of untouched daysthe remnants of something delicatean undiscovered jealousyor a child's sudden temper Ithe worm to her apple, the snake to her evebrutally faithful to her failingstrusted companion to her worser half Idreamt her with outstretched armsand the callous grace of the unforgiving liar she was mine.my darling soliloquymy most unfaithful servant

11/3/2011 12:25:05 PM: I feel it keenly, the separation of my two selves – the way I’m dividing slowly, and slipping back into old patterns of up and down. You know the downs well, its when I write, and so you’d assume I’m always that way, but it isn’t the case. I don’t write when I’m content, I write when I’m discontent, or unsettled or in the rare moment when passion strikes, but is on its own – without the mood along for the ride. I’ve tried to stay somewhat balanced, and have for some time, but I’ve given away a lot during that and it has left the scale unbalanced, and tilting dangerously to the dark. I’ve starved my sadist, you see – and now his weight is smashing down on that side of the scale, his demands are furious and unrelenting. Oh god it’s been an eternity since I’ve just blown the fuck up, not yelled, but really just went on a destructive spree, and that I feel so edgy now is a sign that it wants out. And I should have known it would happen. I’ve been denying, denying, denying – eventually, the beast rises and demands or dies. Mine never dies. So don’t expect to find me, you’ll find him instead.