So this post will likely not be easy to type.  But then none of the recent ones have been.  Alright, I will be honest.  Precious few of them are easy for me to type, because I am reaching in to a pitted and torn soul and pulling out pieces to share with you.  It doesn’t even matter so much that you, anyone, read them so much as I type them and put them out here so they CAN be read.  And I can explain it no further than that.

I recently – just a few minutes ago – watched a viral video from YouTube user SupDaily06…I am sure most of you have seen it fly past your FaceBook feed if nothing else.  It is the video of a straight man talking about a recent viral video of a teenager coming out to his parents about being gay.  First, if you haven’t seen the video, I want you to watch the video before you continue reading.

Now on to why this hits me, a straight (but never narrow) 34 year old woman RIGHT in dem feels… Continue reading

Anxiety Attacks and drowning in the ocean…

It’s funny how, being classified as bipolar, when I get stressed enough, I stim like someone with autism, asbergers, Tourette’s, etc. And yes, I’m spelling shit all sorts of wrong, and, at the moment, I could give two fucks or a shit less about that or grammatical errors. I have been having fairly intense stims somewhere around an hour. For those of you who suffer from any psychological prizes (hey, let’s call it something fun, instead of a disorder!!), you know how utterly motherfucking god damb exhausting they can be. Just…life-draining. And when I stim, I tic like a motherfucker. Scratching, rubbing my fingers, hitting myself, rocking back and forth,openingand closin gmy mouth,s ieltn screams, rapid blinking, rapid eye movement, tapping, sometimes sounds.. I get a nice lovely run of the stim spectrum. LUCKY ME. Thankfully, it’s only when I am incredibly super HOLY FUCKSHIT stressed the motherfuc out. And I have been..

This time of year is always pretty fucking tough on me. Starting at the beginngin of July through about the first week of August. I adopted a son out the day he was born, August 4th, 2004. And starting about a month before, I just………sink. I sink beneathe the waves of.. everything. Sounds, tastes, touches, feels. thoughts, breaths, leaves, colours, life itself. I have to keep busy. God damn, do I have to keep busy. I will cut a fuckin gentire yard with a god damn pair of scissors if that is absolutely all I have I can do to keep busy. Today, I rearranged my entire livibng room. That may not seem like much, but I had to vacuum and spray for spiders, too, because I have apparently gained an infestation of cute cuddly wolf spiders. Absolutely adorable, not lethal to most folks, but their bites suck big bulbous elephant balls. And I don’t like things randomly crawling on my face for me to squash. Yes, this has happened. And these motherfuckers are fast as hell. Look them up. Shoo, spider, you belong outside. Assholes. Anyw ay. This involved moving one 32″? television that is somewhere around 75-100 pounds off a 2′ high stand across the room.. rearranging 2 oversized loveseats and an oversized couch, moving two old-school studio speakers (the 4′ tall heavy as fuck type), the tv stand and putting a 42″? 75″ television back on the fucking stand. Alone. While dodging fucking spiders and keeping the kid busy. Whereupon I also found a tote I forgot about, seeing how it was cleverly disguised as a side table (don’t ask) and I found old birthday cards. And pictures.

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On this, my deceased father’s birthday, an update of importance, if only to me.

I have been conspicuously silent the past few months, and for good reason. Things in my life have, at points, come to a screeching halt, and at other times they have sped so far out of control, I wanted to yell LETMEOFFLETMEOFFLETMEOFF. This has definitely been a year of upheavals and trials, for sure.. though it has also been a year for good revelations, smiles, laughter, love, dancing, blah blah all that sweet shit.

Where to start? not the beginning this time, Dear Reader. Not this time.

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The captain of your ship of dreams..

Y’know what I’m tired of hearing, seeing people post, reading, whatever, about relationships?
“It’ll work out some day. It HAS to, right?”
Well, I’ve got your answer, darlings.
No.
NO, it does not have to work out some day. This isn’t Disney, you’re not a god damn princess, and the bottom line is NO, it will not work out for everyone.

Let me break it down for you, okay?

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Manifesto with a Death Warrant

As the fifth anniversary of my father’s death quickly approaches (it is less than a month away), many things from the past 5.5 years are popping in to my head with nearly alarming regularity. Not all of them are bad, but they have given me pause for several reasons.. Be they times of great loss or great gain.

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Dear Karma…

Dear Karma – We need to talk.

You know a few years ago, I went through some shit that would be considered pretty damn bad by most Americans’ standards. I say American, because, well, let’s face it: Africa and anywhere oil is located.

Since then, I’ve had bouts of time where things were not going precisely wrong, but they were most definitely not right. I suppose one could say I’ve been on a rocking even keel – overall, of course – for 5.5 years. Which is not to be scoffed at, do not get me wrong. Better to have an even keel than slowly going under. But then again, sometimes keeping that even keel for an extended period of time is a slower sinking process than one could imagine, until one experiences it. Allow me to explain..

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Bucket Lists

I have never truly understood the point of bucket lists. To me, they are the last vestiges of a life lived unfulfilled, a last chance dash to do all the shit before you die you refused to take the chances to do before it became nearly too late. Once, they were lists of “things to do before I die” utilized by the aged or terminal. Now it seems every teenager not yet out of high school has one.

Don’t get me wrong; I am ALL for setting goals, both attainable and lofty. But this shit is just ridiculous. What became so wrong with just living your fucking life, every day, to the fullest possible for that day? Is that not worthy enough a goal? Hell, the gods know it is about as lofty as one can get!

Let me explain why I have no bucket list…

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Heretic – Lyrics

Yes.. I’ll be posting lyrics from time to time.. Some, I actually hope to do something with eventually.

I am not a heretic
Because I won’t believe
In all the hateful little lies
Fear-ridden minds conceive
There is no hell to banish me
No fiery depths below
There is no mountain up on high
Pure as the fallen snow
There is no path I will not walk
No curse I will not face
I will not fear your sordid tales
Of how I fell from grace

Grace was never offered me, grace was never felt
I’m living life the best I can, I cheat the hand I’m dealt
I cannot fear a fallen god, nor cheer a risen saint
I cannot live my life for you, you will not feed my hate

Treat me like an enemy, treat me like a fiend
Treat me like the devil’s own, cast out on broken wing
Fear my every sudden move, be wary of my gaze
Never try to understand you fucks made me this way

Grace was never offered me, grace was never felt
I’m living life the best I can, I cheat the hand I’m dealt
I cannot fear a fallen god, nor cheer a risen saint
I cannot live my life for you, you will not feed my hate

(spoken)
He who has never thrown himself head-first into vice can never truly understand the path of the virtuous…
He who has never sunk to the bottom can never understand the arduous climb to the top…
He who has never felt the maddening throes of anger can never feel the overpowering throes of love…
The full pleasure of unfettered lust…
Or the freedom of total loss of control.

I will not be your heretic
Because I won’t believe
In all the hateful little lies
You use just to deceive
There is no hell to sink into
No heavens you will find
There is no place to hide your fears
Except in your own mind

(C) by me, and yes, I actually do coprywrite all my work, so don’t try me on that one. Feel free to comment or not. Critiques..criticisms..kudos.. have at it, kids.

Of mice and men and hooks and blood and music and…

As the title might suggest to those of you intelligent enough to pick up on it, I am rather eclectic and tend to have many interests.  Or maybe it was just a catchy title that caught your attention.  Or maybe I am just a cunt who likes to fuck with people.

Yes; I have just begun this blog, and I am fucking with you already.

Within this jungle, I will plumb the depths of depravity, salvation, sin, music, life, and whatever else comes to my bent and twisted mind…there always is, always was, always WILL be salvation in sin.

Welcome, and enjoy the motherfuckin’ fray.

~cub~