A New Vocation
I have come to the conclusion that there is a purpose for me afterall, a mission for which a select few have been chosen to fulfill. I have fought the good fight, I have come to the end of my journey, I have kept the faith, and now I am to be rewarded, for my efforts and my transgressions.

The world needs people like me who have been beaten senseless by fate. People look at me and see someone they do not want to be and they feel better about themselves. This is my curse, my purpose, my reward for the life I have lived. For those that have loved and lost, for those that seek answers and find only more questions, I will provide an invaluable service to society.

Schadenfreude, making the world a better place to be!

Now accepting applications...

Clarifying some things...
Allow me to clarify a few things, for I may not have been as forthcoming as I should have been. I thank all of you for your words and insight, I find it comforting that our lives can be so different and yet so similar as if everything is just one big circle where the farther you go from one point, the closer you actually get.

First off, I don't go looking for trouble. I don't like to start fights nor do I particularly enjoy having them. Whether or not I'd make an excellent lawyer because of my stubbornness and attention to minute details is immaterial. The point is I really do not enjoy tension between me and those that I love.

Second, I grew up in a household that was full of violence, not physical mind you, but verbal, many arguments and disagreements over trivial matters. Stop touching me...This is my side of the room...Why didn't you take out the trash...How come you didn't call when you said you would...I was worried sick...Why didn't you study...I am so disappointed in you...ad nauseum...ad infinitum...

So it's not that I am dispassionate, or uncaring, I just don't like to fight. A typical situation might play out something like this...she comes to me with an issue...I listen...I ponder and I offer a solution...something easy, simple, fix the problem...she thinks I don't care, because I am not making a big deal out of it...we fight...

You see, I DO care, I WANT to see her happy, I HATE it when she is upset, I would do ANYTHING to fix what's wrong, but that is the problem....the FIX...see it, solve it, done...right? Wrong...I am not supposed to solve the problem, I am supposed to listen and say things like "It's going to be ok." The thing is, I DO listen, I try to understand and be compassionate, but I will probably never get as emotionally intense as her because I am used to it, because I spent my life at arms length from people because of all the fighting, all the arguing, all the complaining...I am inclined to just see the problem solved and move on to better things, because emotionally I am burned out, or maybe I just can't take it, which explains why I fly off the handle sometimes...it is my way of saying, I am incapable of being who you want me to be...

And it is being incapable that is the catalyst, that is to blame when things do not work out...I can't take it, I am emotionally drained and I simply cannot, it has been beaten out of me, I am oblivious to it because if I let it get to me I will fall apart. One of my defense mechanisms that always ends up causing a split, a break, a failure...

I am not capable of being anything other than myself, I am not capable of solving your problems, I am not capable of being your rock, you pillar of strength, because beneath this facade, this wall, this shell, I am an emotional degenerate, I am as pitted and scarred as the moon and, and I get hot and cold with same frequency. I am cold and distant out of habit and necessity because I am scared, I am afraid of what it means if you know this, if you get under my skin and what you will see.

I guard this with my life because with out it, what do I have? This is all I really know, this is all I have ever really felt. I know love, but I AM hate. I know happiness but I AM sorrow. I know joy but I AM pain. And what's worse, it that I am keenly aware of all of this. I know it is not healthy but I am more afraid of having nothing than I am of having all this. I just don't see any way around it.

How I wish this was all on the table BEFORE things progressed into something serious. What a relief it would be to know that despite all of this, you still want to be with me. Eventually you will become keenly aware of this, but it is usually a deal breaker so to speak because you will find out all of this, today, tomorrow, next week, whenever...

Having said all of this, I probably sound like the last person anyone would want to get to know. So be it. Things have a way of happening for a reason I'm sure. I am rash and bold with my emotions and I wear my heart on my sleeve. I follow my heart everywhere and love with reckless abandon. I live life moment to moment, day to day. My fear of course being everything else I have said, because unless I told you up front, you have no way of knowing until it's too late.

Any day now you might find something about me that you don't like, they you can't handle, part of me that you wish I could delete or remove, an experience you wish I had not...but with every passing day, there is no way of telling how I will react to someone or something or how it will affect me. How could I possibly know? The only thing I can predict is that whatever feelings you had for me will fade when you find out who I really am and what every other woman before you has done to me because of who I am.

Maybe it is all my fault, maybe I project a false self to lure you in so that at least for a time there is something, because I know exactly how things will end. You could say that, and I would not deny it if you did. I don't claim to have answers, questions, yes. Doubts, yes. Fears, uncertainty, apprehensions, yes. I can't help but do what I do, because everything I have learned, every experience I have had, every woman I have been with has led me to this, to these unanswered questions, to these fears, to these conclusions, to these thoughts and to this life. It is not just me, this I know. The person I am now is a collage of every other human being I have ever known, and every place I have ever been and every emotion I have ever had. I am just as much at fault for being who I am as everyone else. This I know, this I understand, that is the truth and that is why I am who I am. You may not know it yet, but you look at me and you see parts of your self. You may deny it at first but soon you will understand. To hate me, to shun me, to doubt me is to hate, shun and doubt yourself. That is why I look for qualities of my mother in every woman I meet. She understands exactly who and what I am. She knows me more than any woman I have ever known or will know and despite all my fears, thoughts, struggles and faults, she loves me, as she loves herself, unconditionally.

Shoulda been a head shrinker...
Mood:  quizzical
Something Sass said about me the other day got me thinking...why is there no Mrs. Mustard to "make sandwiches" with? While her comments to me were flattering in a way probably only I could understand, through no fault of her own, something in those words struck a nerve and I think it is worth elaborating why.

All my mother ever wanted to do was to be a mother. To start a family, have children and do whatever it is that mothers do, not being one, the reasons for such escape me and I can only surmise from what I see and hear. I have lost count of how many times my mother has called herself a failure. More to follow.

We have already established the dicotomy with which I am saddled with, being the personification of both my parents' personalities. Around people I know, I am more my mother, strangers, my father. Bipolar not withstanding, every woman I encounter will, provided they stick around long enough, see two sides of me.

First there is the can't get enough of each other phase, where the sex is hot and emotions are wild and the newness of things permeates. Like I said, I am my father at first. He taught me well, being the gentleman and all that. I am not the type of guy that won't return a phone call when I say I will, or will be hesitant to meet family, in fact I like to get that out of the way. "Hello Mr. So and so, I am the one courting your daughter." That is something I do not like to have lingering. You can tell alot about a woman from her parents, and more than once I have ended things because of who her parents are. And I am not talking superficial, as in looks or money or car or whatever, I have no problem telling you where to go if you thought that. What I am talking about is how they interact, how they relate to eachother. The relationship they have speaks volumes about what ours will be like, how our potential children will affect us, and also, how she will treat me. Last girlfriend used her parents as ammo against me, saying I can't see you cuz my parents don't approve and if she hadn't of done so I would have broken up with her cuz her parents were bad people. Bullshit, but I learn.

So all this paternal logic and thought eminates as initially I am my father and that is what's going thru my head as I am caught up in emotional turmoil, not necessarily bad, just upheaval, things everywhere, like my mother. I can't help it, he is a forward thinker and a provider and does everything he can at the expense of his own happiness to see his family provided for and well off. That is what I admire so much about him, his selflessness and devotion to duty and honor.

But like my mother, yes, back to her, eventually she will see my mother's contribution to my psyche. Growing up, my mother, although we did not have the best relationship, was the only constant in the household. That's what she wanted, if you recall. Like her, the decisions I make are for the most part out of feeling rather than thought. I have gotten into so much trouble because I am that way. So needless to say, things were never quite kosher amongst mommy and the kids. So arguements and disagreements seem inevitable, and as history has shown, they are...

Like my father I think and process information the same way he does, logically, which does not mesh well with how my mother acts. But my tendency to act like my mother while thinking like my father eventually will permeate into my relationship. You see, I would always counter my mother with my father's thought process then I would turn around and act just like her. Which would make her even more pissed off because I rebutted her then went ahead and fucked up anyway. So yeah, things will eventually get quite heated between myself and whomever I am in love with at the time. It's all or nothing with me, you should know that by now.

For all the time spent with my mother, it is no wonder why I look for things in women that remind me of her. Not in an Oedipus sort of way, get your heads out of the gutter, but being the ONLY woman in my life for so long, her qualities have a certain way of being more desirable than others. That is something I find quite ironic, all the longer relationships I have had are because of how much of my mother I see in these women. Growing up with only my mother in the house, the arguments and disagreements I have with my girlfriend always seem to boil down to the same ol things my mother and I used to fight about. I won't elaborate but suffice it so say it's quite freaky. Things get over analyzed, blown out of proportion or what have you, and they are all small things. Nothing is trivial and I am becomming aware of this but not soon enough and that is where I eventually fail. And I always do.

The ironic thing is, there is some comfort to all of this. All the fighting and bickering and complaining, and small moments of joy intersperced here and there reminds my so much of home that I am not really bothered by it. I have come to accept that fighting and disagreements are just part of the process and I am at home with it, because that is how I grew up. Unless something truely bothers me, there is really no emotion one way or another and there is no telling when something might irk me, I can't even tell sometimes. That lack of emotion becomes too much for her at the time to handle. I have become numb to the bickering and arguing that it rarely phases me outside of the immediate and then goes away as fast as it showed up provided it showed up at all. Most girls find that hard to grasp, like I just don't care or could not be bothered; it is too difficult to try and explain it to them in a way that leaves them feeling less than insulted at best and like dirt usually. I guess they can't take it, or they want more I don't know, but like I said, its all or nothing with me. If I cannot be myself then it is not ME you are dating. And it will never work out.

So the point to all of this is, I am quite comfortable with turmoil and upheaval. I spent my entire life with it so I am accustomed to things not working out or going sour, numb like I said. I am learning to listen more than anything else as nothing is trivial and not every problem needs a solution. However comfortable with the situation I am, SHE may not be. I am not saying I like to argue and more often than not I try to difuse it like my father does, with logic, but like my mother and myself as well, it does not sit too well with an emotional female. Especially when all the feelings we have toward eachother are thrown in the middle. And there are a lot, and they develop rather rapidly. It's like that with me. You know this.

But who knows, it could just be that I attract girls with problems and I am just a patchwork of spare parts at best, so once that becomes common knowledge, it all comes crashing down. And like the rest of my life, I am reduced to picking thru rubble, trying to find something that works.

I know exactly how those in Fla feel right now, sifting thru the remains, hopeless, lifeless, your entire life was that home, there was som much history there. The notches in the door frame as little Jimmy grew up. The A+ paper magnetted to the refrigerator Sally wrote on her father being a fireman and bringing his helmet in for show and tell. The old rocking chair that your grandfather built, handed down every generation. Now it's all gone. And just when you think all is lost, you find that photo, in a mangled and busted frame, of the family down at the shore that one summer and it all comes back to you. You are standing on just a bunch of wood and stone, nothing more. You are at peace and you know nothing but joy. The sun shines a bit brighter that day and you need only look within yourself to know you are at home, where you belong.

That is my eternal struggle, sifting thru remains of a battered existance for some semblance of life and love. Found little things along the way and those I do cherrish. But alas, to the woman of my life, your photo, your picture escapes me. And for that, I will never find a place to call home.

Sass, I hope this helps answer your question.

Single Serving Friends
I have been content as of recent history to contain the true histroy of self by utilizing the comment "long story" or similar such that I never had to divulge much in the way of information all the while ensuring that there are indeed reasons for my current demeanor that are beyond my control. That I might be an asshole is immaterial if there are reasons for it, unavoidable reasons, that I might be preordained to act and behave a certain way.

Currently we have established I am half chemically imbalanced, half addict, and half "long story". For those that know anything of controlled substances, which I will for the time being assume we all do, I will refrain from commenting on such as it was more an effect rather than a cause of my behavior, although as we will find out eventually, it was indeed the catalyst behind some rather rash and undisciplined actions.

The long story is thus: born in the late 70's under the sign of Aries to a young Air Force lieutenant and his new bride in an upstate New York military base hospital. First child of the entire family, pride and joy. Not much is remembered of the time spent there as is was not a substansial amount of time. To dispense with some mundane details, suffice it to say that not spending much time anywhere became commonplace.

Grew up as you can probably tell a military brat. Base to base and place to place, until highschool I never spent more than 18 months in any one place. No matter how many times it was explained to me, not until I was 21 did I ever understand why it was such. I mean, I KNEW that we were moving because my father got redeployed, or found a new job, or the school system was not up to par for my rapidly developing young mind, but time and again, I fought it, tooth and nail, kicking and screaming. I was never able at the time to understand why I had to leave everything I knew time and again, at the whim apparently of my father.

I look up to him now, but it was not always such. Ingrained in his psyche throughout his youth, he HAD to be the provider, the bread winner, the head of household. If that meant spending too much time away from his family then so be it. If that means missing much of my childhood, then so be it. If that meant constant arguments with my mother that I never quite understood, but felt the pain nonetheless, so be it.

Self awareness occurred to me at age 9, during a move from Tennessee to Pennsylvania. It was then that I came upon the concept of hate. I relished in it. I have never really let it go, I know it is still there, if only in the far recesses of my mind. I came to understand that for whatever reason, I was being overlooked. That my needs, my desires, were no match as a young lad when compared to the Major and his whims. Time and again I was seemingly ripped away from everything I loved, every friend I had, every ounce of familiarity until such time as the "move" became my only constant.

A bricklayer at such an early age, the Berlin Wall itself could not hold a candle to the fortress I build around myself. As a civil engineering student I became wiser and added gates and windows, but it was some time before I saw any daylight at all.

Had I actually spent any time with my father I might have tried to explain to him, however possible, that I was unhappy. But it seemed as if he was also in a world of his own. One that, partly because of my own doing, partly because of his own demons, I was rarely a part of.

Time came and then it went and I find myself in highschool, the doldrums of all society. Where terms like superficial and spite reign and to be unpopular was akin to disease. I was diseased. There were others like me that for whatever reason were also diseased. But for whatever reason, they did not have a membership to this club. Despite all the similarity, despite the need for companionship, I was the pillar of avoidance, as I was no longer going to allow myself to become attached to anything or anyone that I would eventually have to leave behind.

The lonliness just would not leave me alone, and thus became my only companion and more often than not, my sparing partner.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I owe my mother for putting up with me. Although I failed to accept it then, I am now aware that I owe my return to the land of the living to her. But because of the denial, the apparent betrayal, the damage was done. Like I said, it was not until I left them both that I was able to come back to them.

Like all great walls, unless maintained, they will eventually crumble and alas, mine eventually did. The pile of rubble that now composes the foundation of my very life is what I am reduced to searching through, incessantly, and in vain for any vestiges of familiarity, of continuity. I lost count of how many times I have stumbled and fallen. Hell it took me until I was 5 before I figured out the role hands played when you tripped and fell. So it comes as no surprise to me that I am still struggling to stand on my own.

No drugs on the job...
Mood:  quizzical
Now Playing: Gabriel and Dresden

If there is one thing this job has afforded me, it is all the coffee and contemplation I can stomach. I have been trying to figure myself out for some time now and I think I might have just stumbled across something rather interesting. I just had a talk with an older woman from another section. The only reason I say older is because our relationship here has developed into a mother-son kinda thing. She has a daughter just a few years younger than me, that she left at home to work here, so I being the baby on the project, it just worked out. I went in there to talk business and ended up discussing life instead.

My real mother and father at polar opposites. My father is cool, calculating and logical while my mother is emotional and very forthcoming. I have inherited it seems both traits. The irony of the entire situation became quite clear to me during the conversation with "mom".

Being polar opposites, it is only natural that I be born bipolar. Otherwise known as manic-depression, there are two types. I happen to be type B. Hypo-manic. Like taking X and listening to portishead or morcheeba, its mellow crazy...I don't quite get as manic as some but I tend to get more depressed than most...

I also just so happen to have inherited both mommy's traits as well as fathers'. Logical to a fault, I excel in math and science ( I took this test once that my school guidance councellor gave me that attempted to determine what our ideal job would be based on 6 categories. Investigative, social, rational, domestic are the only 4 I can remember off hand. Point is, I scored off the charts in Investigative, a distant second was rational, and the third finisher was social. IRS. Quite fitting as it turns out.)

Back to daddy. Every decision I am presented with requires thought and contemplation. Should I brush my teeth today? Do I accept this job? Sex on the first date? Do I return her phone call? It all gets sorted and compartmentalized (my history professors favorite word, he'd be so proud). Knowing that, it seems like I am always on the right path, always doing what I know to be best for me. Right? Wrong...dead wrong. Why?

Mommy. Simply put, my heart guides me. Wherever it goes, I follow. (Ask anyone, I wear it on my sleeve for all to see, just don't think you can get to it though, takes a lot of work to crack this shell, I've been building it since childhood and that's another story) No decision was ever made because I tought it out and decided what the best course of action was. If I wasn't feelin it, it didn't happen. Dated a girl for over 2 years once. Turned out to be the most devastating period of my life. And what's worse, I KNEW it would happen that way. But I followed my heart instead. And I got burned. Hell, took this job knowing I'd be putting my life in my hands, and might not ever make it home at all, let alone in one piece, but fuck it I said, sounds exhilerating...and here I am.

So here I am, bipolar man, 4 fold. Manic, depressive, logical and emotional...now if you do the math, thats 4 different directions I am being pulled in at any given moment...If I can agree with myself emotionally and logically, then the only variable now is the seratonin imbalance. Could still go either way. If I am emotionally into something, and I know what I am going to do is wrong, and my biological clock just so happens to strike "O' depression thirty", then not only do I face the reprucussions of a bad decision, and getting burned in the process, but I have to live with the fact that I knew it was gonna turn out that way, and on top of that, I am predestined to feel even more like shit just because my mind can't make itself up....Imagine the possibilities...

Kinda like listening to Ebert and Roeper before going to a movie. You know its going to suck shit before you fork over the cash, and then after suffering through Beverley Hills Ninja, not only do you have to live with the notion that you wasted two hours of your life, but you also wasted your money....and on top of that, you knew it would end up this way before hand and could have prevented it from even happening....all because I was feeling it and it just so happened to be a bad day, chemically...

No drugs on the job...yup, aint allowed to be on anything, so last year I suffered through the worst withdrawl of my entire life, just so I could piss clean...why? Cuz I felt like taking the job.

If you think I am crazy, well you haven't seen anything yet. Just follow me for a second. Here goes.

Imagine if you can go back that far that is, a sine wave. You remember SOHCAHTOA right? Well this is the first part of it. You have your zero axis...normal. And the wave fluctuates equally up and down the same period and amplitude above and below "normal". Now tie your emotional well being to this wave and presto, you have bipolar.

Now like any sine wave, you can increase amplitude, period, wave length and arc length and such by incorporating different variables. Shift it 90 degrees, add 1 radian and divide your period by two and its a whole new ball game. For the sake of argument we will just take our "zero" line and move it up so that there is more area under than above. That's type B. SO, doc gave me an upper, an antidepressant since I was more inclined to feel bad than good, and when it got bad, it got really bad and mania was, mellow crazy like I said. So Basically we have taken our sine wave and adjusted it such that our max and min are closer together. The low didn't go so far down anymore but the high went a wee bit higher, just not exactly the same. There is your typical antidepressant, prozac, paxil, etc...

Now if you were to look at our original wave again, we could easily relate that to normal brain function. Normal highs and lows, gives and takes and such things, in other words, steady and regular...bipolar is more amplified than our happy mr. brainwave, and medicated bipolar, well, I think that is a new wave in entirety...you won't find it in physics books if you catch my drift...

Shall I move on to non prescription drugs? Or have we had enough fun for the day? It would sure help to put things into perspective, but guess what, I'm not feeling it...until next time kiddies...be cool. Stay in school...

The more you know....

Sunsets in hell are pretty breathtaking...
Mood:  not sure

but the lettuce is getting bad again, if you know what I mean.

Makes me wonder if the enemy savors sights like this as much as I do before moving out for the evening's, um, festivities so to speak...

Lost half the cooks at one base cuz people started enjoying incomming rounds more than burgers...things got pretty tight for a while, but at least the lettuce was alright...

The latest death toll has confirmed dead at over 1000, the wounded up to 10 times that, and I know there has been endless debate over the W's but to quote just one, WHY does it take a numerical milestone to generate the furvor necessary to make some changes?

As if someone didn't have some explaining to do when we were at 27 or 385...

I can't help but wonder if I am making the wrong decisions, about my life, my country..hell even my vote...

Kerry and Bush both agree we are in too deep now to not see this thing through to completion...but I also read that Kerry would have the troops pulled out (never has agreed with sending troops in the first place)or at the very least scaled back, quite possibly to a point where they are no longer combat effective. I say this because I am also doubting that any other country will step up to the plate with more soldiers...this is not exactly a popular war, but we can't pull out...it's that simple...

I don't care who you support, it will be political suicide for either Kerry OR Bush to back out of the middle east, the United States credibility on a world scale would crumble...guaranteed we are not going anywhere...

So again, I wonder whether helping to put Kerry in office, with my reasoning being he is not Bush, is really the right thing to do under the current circumstances...I wish he would he would take a stand and not waiver on this...

Stop bush bashing, stop trying to validate yourself via your medals and your two tours, stop trying to convince people of things about Bush we already know to be true, and start putting your foot down...start looking like the leader of this country we all want you to be...

Right or wrong, do NOT even dignify your detractors with a response...

Reacting to the words and actions of others does not a leader make...swaying on issues because the sun is out one day and not the next does not a leader make...

I want to vote for someone not because he is the lesser of two evils, which I am now begining to debate, I want to vote for someone who despite all faults, will never make the popular decision if it violates his beliefs, will never vote for something because it is the current fad or style, only to vote the other way the next time, waivering like 2 sheets to the wind. I need someone who will not lie to the American people, or cover up less than stellar service records or benders while in college. I need someone who could give a rat fuck about people who do not agree with how he or she lived their life up to this point. I need someone to tell me:

"This is how I want things to be. This is what I think needs to be done. This is where the rubber meets the road, here is where I stand. And I will NEVER be anywhere else but right here."

"I will never back down in the face of adversity, I will always put my country first. I will not allow my past to consume my presidency, because it is the future that is important most of all. You will not get a peep from me nor will I submit to debate on anything but what I think this country needs. I will argue those points to no end, because I will never back down."

"God, honor, country, there is no self. So leave my life out of it."

(On a side note, as I proof read, I am reminded of Joan Allen's performance in "The Contender". It's a shame that was just a movie...)

And I don't want to hear anything from anyone along the lines of "It's not Kerry's fault, it's the 527's or 572's or whatever the fuck's that are bashing, it's the Kerry supporters that are doing it (insert Bush for Kerry at any time, they are both guilty as far as I'm concerned).

Point being, were I to run for office, I would be the calibur of person to not allow anyone that chose to support myself and my campaign, and my party to defame the other person, party, what have you...I would not comment on anything the other team had to say if it in any way was construed as slander, defamation of character...the fact that I suffer from bipolar, am a recovering addict, that I have been mentally abusive to family, friends and lovers, that I don't sleep well at night, that I never served my country like my father, that I was only an average student eventhough my IQ test scores screamed genius...

I would restrict any and all speach to the topic at hand, my country. What I beleive in, what I will do for it, what I don't like about it, what I will have changed.

Personal attacks, be it from my own mouth or of any of my supporters, are signs of a weak mind and a black heart. I would never be known to have either. Period.

Caption of the day...

"Ok soldier, here's what you do!!"

"Head over that way, and talk to Charlie."

"He's up in the trees."

"He will have some Grey Poupon, but make sure you ask nicely."

"My K-ration is gettin mighty cold, now get me that mustard, most rikki tick!!!!!"

"Move with a purpose son!!!!"

The Greatest Show on Turf
...done packed his bags and moved to a city that really matters...

...and yes, I am picking a fight with everyone, yes I am comfortable with that...

It's time kick the tires and light the fires big daddy!!! Are YOU ready for some football?

An Eagle's Orgy....on canvas

Pardon me....
Mood:  special
Do you have any Grey Poupon?