Self knows secrets I don't

Yearly update

2004-09-02T22:43:18Z

Well made it back, and just under a year again. Hope you're all doing fine and life isn't kicking the shit out of you too much. Have a lot to talk about but... maybe next time.

We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children. Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone.

Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds.

-- CHIEF SEATTLE 1854

Ah shit, here I go again.

2003-09-22T03:13:25Z

Well as you can see I'm back, although I do take pride in the fact that it hasn't quite been a year since my last entry. That's gotta be worth something right? I must admit that this entry isn't gonna be all that and a bag of chips though, it's not gonna make anyone think or even make a blip on their so-what's-this-shit radar. But I am here and I am posting so...
Truth to tell, nothing has happened in my life that would make a difference if I posted 5 times a day for the past year or not. If you will read my last post and this one, well this is pretty much what I would have typed anyway. Still working, still trying the school thing, still and addict of everything, still drunk, still horny etc. etc., not much has changed, just year older. I am holding depression at bay, though, little by little. It won't take hold, basically for the simple fact that I don't like being depressed, or depressed people, or rather depressing people. I take heart in the fact that even the rich and famous are just living life day to day and not much is changing, other than they are getting richer and famouser. Not to bring up a cliche', a sappy one at that, but I just enjoy the simple things in life: how the day looks, people smiling, sex, shit like that. How sappy is that?

And...

2002-10-06T21:42:27Z

Here's something else, I'm an asshole, a real live honest to goodness asshole. People don't see it, especially in real life, people on the net probably get a closer look than those that I interact with everyday, but all that means is that I am, cuz here I'm just anonymous. There is so much inside me that I won't let out anywhere and most of it scares me. The number one thing is that I'm very jealous hearted and I have never let on, cuz I act how I'm supposed to act. People think I'm aight, especially my significant other, but in truth I'm raging at certain things. And the real fucked-upped thing, is I don't want to. I know it. I know that I get this way and don't want anything to do with it. And it's the same, I'll front to her, to them, and to my fuckin self. Play it off and act like it don't matter that I'm all right with shit. But it ain't the way I feel. And I have no reason to feel this way. Which may be the reason why I act like I'm not. I know way deep down, at the bottom of my soul that she wouldn't do anything to hurt me if her life depended on it, and my mind will tell me that I better watch out, I'm gonna get bit sometime. I end up arguing with self about it. And self is a motherfucker, big time. The me know's all is good and shit ain't ever gonna be bad, I got it good and couldn't ask for anything better. But self is an asshole who speaks up, almost on an hourly basis with his two cents, about never ever knowing completely. I and self have got to part ways sometime, somewhere, somehow.

Fronting

2002-10-06T21:30:35Z

I talk drivel on here most of the time, because I don't want to spout some way deep down, woe is me bullshit. Which is exactly what this thing is for. But the major obstacle getting in the way of me saying what I should be saying is that I don't want to come across as a pontificating asshole. And that's kinda odd, cuz I love my opinions and have plenty of them. So, what I think is, I have two choices, lay out all my shit for people to take a look at, or get all high horsy about some shit that I think other's should think. And the thing is, I love doing both of those things. It's real pathetic when you're trying to front in your own journal.

Crying for a dream.

2002-10-04T19:56:03Z

Crying For A Dream

Remember Windriver,
When the future ceased to be?
And the crying of The People filled the air?
The sound of mothers' weeping was
Swallowed by the hills before it hit the
Reservation line?

Remember Windriver,
With no tomorrow to see?
When The People wandered wondering
How our hope could lay down?
And the eagles wouldn't fly
For the songs on sacred smoke?

Remember Windriver,
When we couldn't find The Way?
And this world and the next
Were hand in hand?
Our promise became broken
And could not go on?

Remember Windriver,
How the world wouldn't turn?
And the left behind had no
Answer for each other?
Because the only answer was
The wind, and the sun, and the sky?

Remember Windriver?

Remember Windriver.

God bless Southern Comfort and girl parts

2002-10-04T03:23:18Z

I am seriously thinking about moving to a warm weather climate and becoming a bum. The family isn't too keen on it, but oh well... My new bumper sticker will read "Down and Out in Jamaica" or Hawaii, or Palm Beach, or Rio. You get the idea. Does anyone else think that a street person in one of these area's has it just a tad bit better than say a teacher, plumber, carpenter, or policeman in like Alaska, Montana, or New York in the middle of January. And thinking about it the bumper sticker would have to go across my ass, but I can live with that. It's Jamaica for fuck's sake. I'm pretty sure I can live with a 200 pound ape with fleas and mange riding me in that place let alone a bumper sticker.

I'm also thinking of trying out a neuroses or psychoses or two just to make myself more interesting to the people around me. So if you have any suggestions I'd appreciate it. I'm not sure if it would take, though, considering that the amount of time I put into my addictions doesn't allow for normal problems to crop up much. I'm pretty sure being a drunk kinda negates the other cool things from taking over my mind. And I'm not sure I want to stop being a drunk at the moment. I definitely do not want to give up the sex addiction. That is mine and I love it. I'm also pretty sure that being an American Indian I have pretty much used up my alottment of fucked-upness, although that might not have as much to do with my race as it does my family, the family I was born into, not the family I married into. In any event...

Exactly.

2002-10-03T05:27:02Z

I knew it.

Which Magical Order Are You In?
brought to you by Quizilla

Rambling.

2002-10-02T21:08:07Z

Origin of The Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act
of 1975.

The many layered man told me the true untruth. I didn't know whether
to not not believe him or tell him a false falsehood, "I see visions,
I am one with nature, I am noble, I am savage, I am not hungry." His
words were like wind and rain on my ears, there, but later, not. They
twisted and ran in rivulets down my second hand shirt, becoming a
mass of wet and muddled puzzles. I may decipher them someday, but
cannot foresee any particular time when I am free to research the
alphabet. In any event it may take awhile, because I have to go to
the Campbell Soup Company for community service and I don't even know
if they allow Indian's in there any more. They used to, but there
was a food fight one lunch break and all of the Indian's teamed up
and ate the noodles, which seemed fine to them, because most of the
reservation commodity supply had been confiscated and redirected by
the then government agent to the company. Jojo Pretty Skunk and
Bellyboy Walking Snake recognized the aroma right off and sent out a
scouting party to make sure that what they had smelled was in fact
the high calorie, high starch concoction that was near and dear to
both of their hearts. When the scouts returned, their number
depleted because they had been detected by enemy troops, no question
remained and all that was left to do was to wait seven generations
and sue the company for unlawful transactions with a man who wanted
enough money to move to the Hampton's and would starve a few of
America's first P.O.W.'s to get it. It was fortunate that the
company vice-president was in attendance at lunch that day. He wanted
a raise and figured that by luring the board of trustee's into a food
fight he would get it. He choked to death on the alphabet soup
letters he had arranged into a new treaty. It was also unfortunate,
because every Indian who participated in the noodle liberation,
became illiterate, thus assuring that a whole generation of native's
could attend Harvard University and move to the Hampton's.

bad_medicine @ 2002-10-02T14:31:00

2002-10-02T20:34:10Z

Sacred Hoop?

The sun's been up as
i open my eyes
In the middle of this life.
And squint at these walls again, again,
Again.

i am dreaming. (dreamt) (dream)
Used to. Now,
i hope...
As i drift to the top again, again,
Again.

These floors are old, these people are old,
This house is old, this beer is old,
This way, gets old.
And i sit in the kitchen again, again,
Again.

A dad would say, "You should..." A mom would say...
"I love you?"
The old man says, "I remember..." The old woman says...
Nothing. Again, again,
Again.

i am... that's all, i just am.
And the ticking clock tells me
Where i am. (been) (going)
And i sob again, again,
Again.

They don't hear (won't). They don't see
(Can't)
As inside, i cry. (die) (WHY?)
And i smile, and i laugh again, again,
Again.

oops.

2002-09-30T18:56:28Z

fuck it
fuck them
fuck ethics
fuck morals
fuck

Fuck it.

2002-09-30T18:55:16Z

This is bad...

2002-09-30T18:34:50Z

or good... depending on your point of view. In all honesty I think it's good, I give into my urges all the time. It makes me a great oholic of stuff! Currently I have an urge to throw the neighbor down and ravish her, and a constant urge to drink. My favorite though is to walk into the only upscale clothing store in town and give the woman who waits on me a hickey.

Apologies

2002-09-30T05:18:39Z

Hey to all my frenz out there, yea all one of you, sorry about the length of my last post I didn't think it was that long and I'm new to this lj-cut thingy. I won't happen again.

Short, short story #1.

2002-09-30T04:56:27Z

Hey whoever you are reading this, let me know what you think, aside from the sentiment part, if I'm even able to get that across. Let me have it with both barrel's please. I need to get better at this stuff and I can't do it if you're nibbling on my ear and stroking me. Grab me by the back of the head, slap me, and say something like, "Listen shithead, that's a split infinitive and you can't end a sentence with a preposition. There's no thread to the story and you can't tell an f'n adverb from an adjective!" or somthing along those lines. On the other hand my fragile ego would like sunshine blown up it's butt, so after the slap, maybe give me a little tongue, and tell me what's right. k?

LEGACY

Johnny sat playing at his grandpa's feet. Engrossed in his own little world that had the most awesome men and women keeping the rest of the population free from evil. His chubby little hands came to rest on the blue Power Ranger. He raised his face, full of wander and excitement,
"Grandpa, wouldn't it be cool if there were really superhero's? You know, to make sure we wouldn't get hurt, or that nothing would happen to us, and they would be so tough and strong and nothing could hurt 'em."
The old man chuckled as he reached for the toy in Johnny's hand. He took it gently, smiling at Johnny, and caressed the toy absently as his eyes grew distant, focusing on the sky blue color of the rug. He flexed his hand gently, cracking knuckles, and began to massage his forearm, still deep in thought. Johnny fidgeted and started to play again before his attention was drawn back with a small cough from his grandpa.
His grandpa's smile grew softer as he gave his grandson his toy back, and he sighed,
"There are John, there are, but you won't see 'em unless you're in trouble. Remember in your comic books, the hero always shows up and saves the day, well that's what they do."
"Ah graaaanppaaaaaa. You know there isn't anyone who's like that."
The old man chuckled again as he reached down to pick the little boy up and place him on his lap. He ruffled the boys hair and kissed him on top of the head.
"No really, their out there just waiting for the right moment to appear and make sure you're taken care of. They want you to be safe and sound. To live long and have a good life. They just aren't needed all the time, so they hide and don't let anyone see them."
Johnny still looked unsure, knowing his grandpa liked to josh him, but also knowing that grandpa's voice wasn't joking. He sat and waited, while grandpa continued to stroke his hair. The old man tapped him on the nose,
"I knew several super hero's in real life. They were strong and brave and didn't let anyone or anything get in their way."
Johnny's face brightened and his eyes lit up,
"Oh man, how come you never told me that. And how come I never got to meet them. Can we go see them now?!"
"Well you were to little to tell before and you can't meet them now cause their gone."
"Gone? Where'd they go, you said they were here all the time."
"They are but hopefully you'll never need them, that means you're in trouble. The ones I knew are gone now, but there are other's out there."
"Aw, you never seen none."
"Honest, I did, cross my heart. Wanna pinkie promise?
The old man held up his pinkie finger for the little boy to grab with his.
"K then, whend'ja meet 'em and how'd they save you. Was you around bad guys or was you fallin' or sumthin'?"
"Yup, it was a long time ago, I was your age and I was surrounded by bad guys, and the biggest bad guy could make all his helpers do whatever he wanted."
Awe and amazement covered Johnny's face,
"Oh man, you must have been scared?"
"I was, very scared, it still scares me today."
"So what'd the good guys do, go in a kick butt and knock the bad guys out?"
The old man laughed,
"No, nothin' like that. They gave me bread and soup, sometimes an apple or orange if I was lucky."
"Graaannppaaaa! That ain't nothin', super hero's don't do stuff like that. They're supposed to pick you up and fly you away and beat up the bad guy and stuff."
"Well now John, they couldn't really do that, so they had to make sure that I was taken care of, so they gave me and my friends what was supposed to be their's."
"Well jeez granpa, that's nice and all, but couldn't they do anything cooler?"
Grandpa chuckled a little again, but only for a second, and when he talked again, his voice held reverence, pain, love, and seriousness.
"What they did was good enough John, more than enough. It allowed me to be here with you today."
"Well, I like that granpa, and I'm glad you got away from the bad guys, but the hero's back then don't seem very cool."
"Yeah, they must not seem like it compared to what spiderman and them do today."
"I know, and what Wolverine can do and the rest of the X-men. Oh man granpa, I'd love to see these guys fight some bad guys. I wanna meet 'em and find out what they do and how they do it and if they're scared. Didja get to talk with those guys and see what they did when they weren't around and stuff?"
Grandpa was silent for a second or two as his eyes got that far away look again. Johnny thought he had made his granpa mad, or sad, cuz it looked like his granpa might cry.
Grandpa cleared his throught though and smiled at Johnny,
"Yeah, I got to talk to them everyday for a little while, until they had to leave. They made sure I was ok and that I was happy. They always tried to make me smile, they did make me smile, before they'd continue on their rounds."
"Cool, where'd you meet 'em granpa?"
The old man cleared his throat again, and said softly,
"Warsaw, Poland Johnny, in 1944. They did everything they could to keep me strong and make sure I could tell you about them and the bad guys."

If I can't have money can I have beer and sex?

2002-09-29T16:47:13Z

Just sittin here wishing there was a zoo in town, hell even the state. I'd like to go tease the carnivores, cuz I can't do it in real life, those fuckers bite and shit, and see if I can make the monkeys throw poop at me and whoever else is in the crowd. I'm also glad there are no really, really hot women in this town, cuz I know I'd make one hell of a stalker, and I'm told they don't like that, so it would be a little dramatic.

Comfortably numb.

2002-09-29T02:38:26Z

Well it never happened, I waited and waited, and slowly melted into the chair. I believe my muse was being ravished by the voices in my head again, she does that alot. At least they talk to her, they pretty much ignore me other than to make fun and joke. Usually about what I'm wearing, the way I look, the way I walk, or the way I talk. Anyway, here I am struggling through writer's block on a stream-of-conscious item, I do that a lot too. One thing that is worth noting, however, is that once I hit post this will officially be the longest I have written in a journal type thingy, both in time and the amount of entries. Should I try to say something profound, profane, perplexed? Naw, I'll just keep going with what is coming into the fingertips. I haven't really decided what this journal is going to be about yet, or even if it needs to be about anything. It would seem like it should be, but I think I'll just stick with this format for now, which is erratic and electic, I love it. And if I throw in the occasional poem, short story, or opinion piece, I will be doing what I want to do anyway. Oh well, till later...

Drunk again.

2002-09-28T07:51:29Z

Yes, it's me again. Drunk as usual, but oh what fun. I love me when I'm drunk. Who wouldn't? I like being drunk. Reality is far off and not a concern now, it is just there, and I can step back and observe it at a fairly safe distance. That is what all people should do, take a break from reality, sit back, and observe what goes on around them all the time, especially when they're there. I feel a poem coming on, or a rant. I never know until the first line is out. Since this is my first 'real' time on livejournal, you may be able to witness the birth of some inspiring, or at least reality avoiding words. I doubt it though. I'll probably log out and write it down on paper, or log out and write it in Word. Cuz, I'm kinda chicken shit that way. You know... don't watch me, I'm doing shit. Anyway... I'll just keep going until my head gets empty, which doesn't take very long in this condition. If nothing resembling kewl words show up pretty quick, I will be back, to at least post them after the creation. Let's wait and see what happens... waiting... and waiting... oh well maybe later.

This is me exactly, the comment, not the pic, in that I would be the one on the right.

2002-09-28T05:24:15Z

Your Sex Life's Incredible!

You have sex more than Madonna,

And you always come!

Find the nearest warm body,

And fuck until you're numb!

How Does *Your* Sex Life Compare?

Step two, a continuation of the beginnning

2002-09-27T08:57:30Z

Well, this certainly does seem as cool as it did when I found the livejournal web site and downloaded this little thingy here. I'm hoping that I have increased my cool factor and am not a total geek. Although, I do love being a total geek, because that drives me to drink beer in another effort to up my cool factor. And believe me, whether or not I am cool after a few beers doesn't matter after a few beers, cuz then I'm drunk, or at least buzzed.

The beginning, and quite possible the end.

2002-09-27T08:41:49Z

Ah, to write something that will not be seen except by just you. Yep, you're the only one, and to think you're here, now, at the start. So in this unique and historic moment, what do I do but freeze up and get writers block. Alas, no, I am writing to self, and you of course, to tell me that this is a damn fine idea and a good way to test the machine. I will be back too, shortly, to see if the client is working and to see if it is as cool as it seemed when I downloaded it. Then, oh my, then, we will see that I am witty, and smart, and have a gift for the written word. That I am a genius and what I write is profound, and daring, and and and... bullshit. Like all other writing, but oh to dream. But this journey has started, we have just stepped the first step, now if I can stay on the path, which is covered with brush, overgrowth, and the skeletons of those who have gone before. Turn back I scream to self, or self screams to me (I forget which is which occasionally), and no one listens, neither self nor I. That is usually the case, with an argument ensuing shortly after the ignored gets brave enough to mention it to the other. You must witness these battles sometime, grand and glorious. Well, enough for now, let's see if the trail continues...