I feel like shit.  Not just like "shit"...but SHIIIIT.  Been fighting some fucking bug for over a week now, and it's not getting any better.  I think I need to go see the Dr.

Currently in Denver, CO it's wonderful weather.  66 degrees, dark, and raining.  Holy hell I LOVE this weather.  I'm laying on my bed right now, trying to let the DayQuil that I took seep into my head so I feel better.  The relaxing sound of the rain is very welcoming.

The past few weeks have been very boring.  I am in the unemployed rut of waking up, drinking coffee, logging onto Monster.com, taking care of the little ones, and that's about it.  And because I am sick...there's not much extra that I'm doing, i.e. practicing w/ the band, partying...even drinking at home during the evening has stopped for the short term.  Officially I'm pathetic.  Whatever.  So I have a couple of coals in the fire as far as the job search is concerned.  One looks much more promising than the other, and I have an interview tomorrow!  I'm cautiously optimistic because I hate getting my hopes up, only to have them dashed.  We'll see though - if this pans out, it could mean a very nice salary.

Let's see...what else is going on?  Hmm...  Oh, the state of Colorado has seen fit to STILL not issue my first fucking unemployment check!  Lost my job July 21st...and it's now August 31st...and still no fucking check!  Ugh, the red tape is killing me right now.  Supposedly my first check will be here by Tues or Wed of next week.  Fucking nice of them to bend me over like this - especially since I've been paying into unemployment since my first job at the age of FOURTEEN!  Motherfuckers.

That is all.

Bad day today.  Bad day for me to be awake.  I really feel shitty, physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Like I'm ready to lose my temper in a bad way, cry until I pass out, and when wake up and break every thing I see.  I feel like I want to hurt myself.  I went out for a few this morning - first time out of the house in days - and as soon as I was "in public" I thought to myself, "I shouldn't be here...this doesn't feel right, comfortable."  So I drove my pathetic ass home, and here I sit.  Confessing my bullshit to a cyber-world.  Nice.

Self-medicating seems to be keeping me at bay.  For now.  I try so hard to look at the positives, the "blessings" in my life, and all I come back with is self-pity, hatred, and disgust.  Why to I continue to hate myself?  Honestly, I'm fucking 33 years old, a husband, a father...I need to get my shit together.  And the more I try to do just that, the more I seem to fail.  Starting to believe that everything begins in my head...and just ripples out from there.  If this is true, not only am I fucked - but everyone else is too, because I obviously don't have the capacity to reason, rationalize, or see life's big picture.  Since last Friday, I've been told countless times that when one door closes, another opens.  Fuck that.  It has been my experience, and I'm of the opinion that every fucking door SLAMS shut in my face, and all the other "doors" are locked from the other side.  I HATE optimism...and yet I *need* to hear it.  What an idiotic, cruel irony.

I'll close w/ a quote of my own, from an old song I wrote.  It seems to fit today:

"I feel my bad side, as it looks to the outside, to make sense of my lack of self-respect.  I can't handle you, when you act like you do - if this is the best life has to give...FUCK THAT!"

Today I was fired - not laid off - from the company I loved working for the most, in my entire life.

There is no "bright side."  There is no "greener pasture." 

There is black.  There is shit.  There is failure.  There is loss.  There is personal death.  There is me, and I am all of these things, combined.

Sympathy is for the fucking pathetically weak, therefore I don't want it.  I just needed to vent about the horrible shit that happened in my life today.  Once again, it is fate that I am not a gun owner - lest I end this pathetic journey called my life. 

Once so full of potential - now simply one defeat after another after another - just to see how strong I am.  I'm strong.  Strong enough to stop having to be strong.

I have so fucking much on my mind right now, I don't even know where to begin.  For starters, the 2nd of April was the eighth anniversary of the death of my father.  I cannot believe it's been so long.  Honestly it sounds cliche' but I remember the day he died as if it were yesterday.  This is one of the memories that I usually bury when it comes up, because it derails me.  There are times that I am overwhelmed by the memories and the loss feels just as new, and just as raw though.  I hate those times.

Last night, I was assuming my 4 year-old son was asleep, until I heard some rustling around upstairs.  I proceeded up to coax him back into bed, when I found him in the bathroom...cutting his hair.  Yeah.  It's as bad as it sounds, believe me.  He's standing there w/ a pair of saftey scissors (gee, thank goodness for that, eh?), turns around then begins to freak out.  He KNOWS he's been busted, and how.  I shift my eyes to the PILE of hair on the bathroom floor, then back to his head as I begin to speak.  "What in the HELL did you just do to your hair?" I ask him.  "Whaaaa!!!!!" is his response.  It honestly looks like he was in a fight w/ a week whacker.  There are places that look as though he used clippers...it's so close to the scalp.  His reason for his new hair do is simple, "I just decided I wanted to!"  Shit, can't argue w/ that...um...I guess.  Hopefully we won't have to buzz his head completely, in order to make him look normal/healthy/etc but I'm not very confident that his doo is salvageable at this point.  Pictures to follow.

I have been having THE most vivid dreams lately.  This weekend was especially weird.  Dreaming that I was a little boy (4 or 5) during WWII.  So strange too, because I was feeling the "feelings," seeing, hearing, and experiencing everything...but it was from a phantom 3rd-person-type of vantage point.  Hard to explain.  I remember snow, cold mud, filthy conditions, death, and the innocence of being a little boy.  It was like I knew things were bad, but my parents were somehow shielding me as best they could...all the while this was all I knew - so it had a disgusting normalcy to it.  There's much more to the dream(s) - but I've either forgotten the details, or written them in my private journal.

The other turmoil (as it were) in my life is family related.  My brother, Mom, "step-dad" (I use quotes because he doesn't deserve that title, but non other exist)...they've all lost their fucking minds.  Again, as this is a public-ish blog, I won't get into the details...but suffice to say this has been taking SO much of my mental strength, emotions, and time lately that I'm ready to vomit.  Stupid, petty, irrational, on and on...I just don't have the words for the situation as a whole - other than fucking stupid, selfish, and not worth my time or concern...yet here I am.

Whatever, it's a Monday and I'm miserable w/ myself.  What the fuck else is new?

This is how I feel lately.  Sometimes I kick back and read my lyrics and think stupid things like, "Shit, that's exactly how I feel!"  DUH.  I have a lot of shit trapped in my head right now, that I've been too busy to get "out" these past few months. 

I see all the stupidity of the world on the news.  I hear about the war, the loss of life, the natural disasters.  I look at the finger-pointing that goes on between the people on this earth. Different races, different cultures, and we have one thing in common: Hate.  I'm not about to get political on this piece of shit blog, believe me, but let me just say that I'm tired of seeing the same thing happen every single day.

On another level, I see people close to me that suffer.  They suffer physically, emotionally, and it is slowly turning the tide of mine and their lives to complete and utter shit.  I have such unrest within me.  And that's just it - it's within ME.  My disatisfaction has nothing to do with my family, my job (although it stresses me out massively), my band, my friends...it's all inside of me.  I don't like me.  I don't know how to fix myself.  I struggle everyday with the attempted rationalization that I'm okay - when in reality, I feel like I've barely got a hold on everything, and everytime I open my eyes to another day, my grips slips further.  Frankly, I'm surprised that there is any optimism left within me.  My head is fucked up.  The chemical imbalance, the inner demons, they all mock me and I attempt to contain them every moment of everyday.  It's never quiet inside of me.  My soul is not content - as it should be, given my position in life.  There's always fear.  There's always pain.  There's always horrific dreams.  There's always the option...

There's not enough time.  There's never enough time.  There will never BE enough time.

If I could have one wish, it would be for more time.  Time to live, think, read, sleep, breathe, stare into nothingness, be w/ family, spend money in ridiculous ways, be irresponsible, lay in bed for no reason, party, sing, listen, write, contemplate life's mysteries.  On and on it could go.  Endlessness has no meaning during this lifetime.  Everything comes to an end - that's the sad truth everyone must face at some time or another.

Sometimes I sit back in my chair, and simply think.  I think about my past.  I think about my furture.  I think about my present.  I think about my fortune.  I think about my misfortunes (and I think that I think about these too much).  I think about my dreams, my ambitions, my goals, my accomplishments, my failings, my concessions.  I think about my age.  I think about my health.  I think about the fucking speck of dirt in my contact lens that's annoying the shit out of me today.  I think about not being able to do anything about removing the speck of dirt.  I think about how my father was a prisoner in his own body for four years before he died.  I think about the fact that he never met my children.  I think that I was too much of an asshole to him when he was alive, and I didn't forgive him soon enough.  I think about watching him die.  I think about him looking over me - hopefully proud at the man I've become.  I think about crying everyday.  I think about my meds.  I think about depression, and what a crutch it is.  I think about generalized anxiety disorder, and how it makes me want to run away and smash things when I get stressed out.  I think about leaving.  I think about living in Colorado and the fact that I haven't skiied for 10 years.  I think I hate myself more than I should.  I think about loving my family. 

I think I'm done.  ...for now...I think.

More to write later - but for now...for those who "care," there will be more updates later.  Happy 2006, fuckers!

::NOTHING MATTERS BUT ME::