Mental Hurling

Quite an Odd Feeling

Posted on May 1, 2016. Filed under: a look in my book, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , |

Quite an odd feeling,
something being gone when you expect it to be there.
Sometimes it takes the absence of something you take for granted to make you see
An obvious sentiment however one that bears repeating.

Little bits of my mind are lost, things I thought I needed.
Lost, I can call it such because I actually miss what is gone.
Lost implies you can possibly recover something, just a matter of will.
Regardless of the terminology, the bottom line is, I am no longer whole.

How easy it is to shut down, to not see.
The ability to bend reality in your own mind is a beautiful thing but transient.
Reality is persistent.
Eventually it will creep back in, steal into your thoughts, ruin any construction
you choose to hide behind.
No matter how grand or how simple you decide to make your perception of a situation,
the reality of it will get you eventually.

If time is a luxury then I am more poor than I imagined.
Each tick of the clock brings me that much closer to actually seeing.
The things I cannot acknowledge will not be ignored.
Where do you hide when your mind betrays you,
when you can no longer blind yourself?

I spend my time unwisely.
In these moments I have been given what have I accomplished?
Each breath I draw is a lost moment, one where no dream was achieved,
no progress made, nothing beneficial.
Just a simple exchange of oxygen for carbon dioxide.
The world will spin with or without any of us.

Where do you look to find a point?
Do you listen to the word of another?
Ultimately we answer to no one but ourselves.

Why must I mentally drag myself to even the most mundane of actions?
There is something there, something driving me, an answer, I know there is.
I have to make a choice.
A large part of me looks at all of this life’s possibilities and feels the
urge to jump to action.

What is unfortunate is even the smallest doubt can outweigh the best of intentions.
This burden, knowing the magnitude of what I have lost, weighs more than
I know how to bear.
I am at the mercy of my own insecurity, my own inaction.

There is an answer, there is an explanation.
It is part of what is lost and I cling to the possibility of finding it.
I now sit as I have so many times, fooling myself into believing I will
recover that missing magic bit of information.
I think it is this delusion alone that powers my ability to move at all.

I am here, I will be here, I will keep looking.
I promise not to stray too far if you promise not to point out
that I move in circles.

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Exhalation

Posted on July 28, 2013. Filed under: a look in my book, Change of Pace, justice, Mental Hurling, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Thoughtlessly unappreciated and seemingly tossed randomly about by fate
Numbed to the chaos a gift can emerge from acceptance of the unthinkable
Survive and one becomes tempered
Like the finest steel however forged in misfortune and misunderstanding
Each violation, real or perceived, a misfortunate but well placed strike of the hammer
Shaping a future
Pain and torment, possible confusion, solitude and feelings of helplessness
To state time heals all wounds is a blanket lie, it takes work and insight.
Seeking wisdom or intellectual gain from loathsome events…
Is not pretty nor is it easily acquired
Patience and examination of the minutia of each nightmare endured
With sadistic resolution to admit and own every flaw,
Acceptance and forgiveness of actions or inaction
In order to reach a higher understanding
An often bittersweet realization due to the process is amazing
One can discover that in each experience
Whether it brings marvel or misery
There is something of great worth
A priceless commodity to be gained.
Some of the most tragic and agonizing events
Upon deep reflection often yield the most amazing epiphanies
New-found strength, Previously unimagined adaptability
The forgiveness of others as well as ones self, Incredible personal growth
Unexpected insight into ones own psyche
The unbridled joy of turning pain into a positive gift
The myriad of benefits in the wake of any torturous event
Are restricted only by ones fear of reliving the mental pain.
Sifting through each atrocity to find any grain of knowledge
Aiding any tiny spark that may, and generally will, help come to terms.
Promoting the reduction of future instances where any similar nightmares
Might vie to hold power over your thoughts or preset fears that might dictate negative actions
Seek and discover the positive then learn to let the negative go
It can be the beginning of a path to eventual bliss
Upon successful endurance of a catastrophic event
If and when one chooses to commit to find the good when mired in misery
 
Consider this a challenge, dare, a plea from a voice of experience
Look for the positive, it is there. It may be deeply buried
The quest at times will almost surely create degrees of duress but know this:
There is no greater reward (though painful) than to fight and survive,
Eventually come to terms with an unthinkable ordeal
Then find joy or peace, acceptance through sincere reflection in it’s wake.

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Magic word contest -CANCELLED

Posted on February 23, 2013. Filed under: Announcements, Contests, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Musings, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Ask anyone to say the magic word
invariably they will say “please.”
That is a fallacy, a lie, it holds no power.
I know true magic.
A single word – when spoken properly –
can devistate.
This word can end lives.
Destroy families.
Cause the mightiest of men to question their own worth.
This damning word is tricky,
it is generally benign in nature.
We use it every day.
The evil magic it holds is manifested by the speaker.
It’s duality only exsists due to the capacity
for cruelty in men’s hearts… or women’s.
Both are as likely to curse another
with this life altering utterance.
Once viciously used, once Pandora’s box is opened,
it’s never truly the same afterward,
it’s never quite shut again.
Try as you wish, no ammends are complete.
The word leaves it’s mark on the receiver.
I dare not divulge the secret
I will say this:
Speak not in anger and do not be rash.
Words can be powerful.
Burning bridges can consume in a literal sense…

I REGRET TO ANNOUNCE THE CONTEST HAS BEEN COMPROMISED AND THEREFORE IS OFFICIALLY CANCELLED.

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE SUDDEN DECISION HOWEVER IT IS DUE TO CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND MY CONTROL.

JUST FOR FUN… IF YOU WOULD STILL LIKE TO VENTURE A GUESS YOU MAY ATTEMPT CALLING THE EGGLINE AT 908-FOR-EGGS.

THANK YOU

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Inspired by J.R.Lemar

Posted on February 3, 2013. Filed under: goofy crap, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Musings, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

I’ve waited more than my share of tables in my life, it’s just a “sit down” restaurant’s way of getting out of paying a real wage to servers. Tipping is SO misunderstood by many people who’ve never worked in the service industry. Too many people justify either not tipping or punitive tips over some silly bit of minutia that did or didn’t occur while they smashed pancakes or baby back ribs in their pie holes.  Waited more than one minute for a top off of their beverage, screw the waiter… I want CRACKERS, f that witch, (I got stiffed at Denny’s because a whale in a mu-mu lost her shit when I returned with her drink order and NO crackers and butter! What in the hell was I thinking miss me? Didn’t I know how to do my job. Like they were supposed to just sit there at a table (couldn’t fit in a booth had to wait 5 on a busboy for a table) with drinks and menus and NO POTS OF BUTTER to slather on CRACKERS? Wholly shit. I have not read from the Book of Fat, I never got to that point in my education? I plead ignorance? wtf.

Shortly after rectifying the situation I was “set straight” by gnashing, greasy, cracker crumbed whale lips. “You know, if you’d have just been civilized and had the crackers, none of this bad blood would be happening.” Wow, I agreed and promptly went to scream obscenities in the walk in because it was all I could do not to reach down her throat and save pinocchio.)

uh, ahem  I mean, Customers expect perfection and infalable service as if they were the center of the universe when generally they are the center of your section of 5 to 6 tables of 4  – or worse, a big top of 20 and they are the sattelite (only table not “borg’ed by the team) and the black hole effect of the 20 people talking at once leaves your table of two agonizingly out of your grasp.

Managers don’t give a flip, all they care about is that you show up when their schedule says for you to and you don’t look or smell bad. Oh, and kiss butt…. hot food, butt kissing, smile, if they’re upset, kiss more butt and give them free pie.  I can do that hell. Free pie generally fixes most stuff in the low/mid end sit downs.

Ahem, no pie, no.  Shhh,    ok, no pie.

SOoooo  people assume that since you have other tables you’re making BANK and they blow off the tip, they assume you make at least minimum wage because it’s THE minimum wage (wait staff are an exception america, they get boned. Server minimum wage was like $2.15 last time I saw it, It’s probably a whopping $2.50 by now. That’s it.  Servers only get that so taxes and ss can come out of what WAIT STAFF MUST CLAIM AS THEIR TIP AMMOUNT WHETHER THEY MAKE THAT AMMOUNT OR NOT. Servers are responsible for at least the difference between the 2.50/hour and $??? that is minimum wage, further your total sales (including call in take out orders) are added up and a percentage is assumed to have been tipped to you. IF YOU DO NOT CLAIM YOU MADE THAT PERCENTAGE THEY FIRE YOU. If you didn’t make that ammount they assume you suck as a server and let you go. I think it’s like 12% (but really I pulled that number out of my ass.)

It’s been over 14 years since I flung food for strangers. ONE big top can ruin the crap out of you. If you are boned by a large party, the sattelite tables generally don’t tip well because the black hole sucks you in and there’s few opportunities to escape the suction of the massive party to tend to anyone else. If you flinch, acknowledge you heard any one of them, they ALL have something they need EVERY TIME THEY SEE YOU. You can’t evade it. They only way to get to the little guy is to emulate Hellen Keller until you are nearer the small table, clear of the group.

I always felt terrible when I had a borg event, UNLESS they ganged up and ate my whole section, then it was bliss. They were my chillun and Momma Stacy fell right in with feeding the brood. I could, often did, bring out cold food and they LOVED it, because I made them love it, they had 100% of my attention and I don’t half ass much. hahaha. There are a few things I can do so well I redefine the concept. Being attentive/giving attention when free of distraction, getting to make a person/people “royalty” for a day so to speak. THAT, I have fun doing. It’s free and nobody dislikes it haha. I have a lot of that in me. It only fails if someone is inappropriate or demanding, if it’s a predetermined expectation – I won’t/can’t do it. I won’t let me on a subliminal level. You get an adverse effect, obvious forced compliance with the absolute basics required to be socially acceptable. Fake grin auto-pilot (: . I can’t help it! I tell me not to do it but I always bully me into doing it anyway. We argue about that a lot, or did. Now I look back at us and laugh, that used to matter hahaha

um,  hang on… that wasn’t me that was… a friend, yeah.  so I was talking about….. waiters get stiffed for goofy reasons, fat chicks want butter…. big tops have mass, ….  crap… um

OH!  yeah So, the assumption is that with several tables an hour there’s surely a lot of money being tipped. That’s rarely the case unless you’re a server at an upscale restaurant. The more affordable the eatery, the more apt the calculator is to come out when it’s time to tip.

HOWEVER, there are the beautiful people. former servers generally overtip, that’s a given. There are those like my wonderful last commenter on “Jesus would tip” who tips well because he gets the drift, that is beautiful. He’s now one of my co-heroes this week.  Then there are people like my older sister, the NEVER been in ANY service industry and wouldn’t work as waitstaff at gunpoint. My big sis tips like a Rockafeller haha. When I’m in a restaurant with her she is FOREVER commenting on waiting tables, “OH GOD I could NEVER do that,” and “I can’t EVEN comprehend how that waitress didn’t slap that guy square in the face just then, they’d have to pull me off him I wouldn’t be able to stop slapping him” haha She is awestruck at how waiters and waitresses can smile and be nice to EVERYONE while doing things she finds vile. “She did NOT just pick up that dinner roll the baby gummed and drooled all over … omg no ew ew ew that is so NASTY, I want to shower just because I saw it” HAHAHAHA  She tips so SO well, it’s crazy.

When she and I eat out together whomever our server is, they are (I have no other word so don’t read into this) BLESSED ha haha  Lisa tips at least 20 or 30 percent or round up then adds 10/20 bucks, that usually goes onto the receipt which she hands to the server so they’ll know they got a nice tip. She always thanks them and tells them they’re amazing because there’s no WAY she could do what they do. (My sister was the head of IT for a successful high end chain of electronically uberprogressive banks, they catered to the gazillionare types – you know the kind of bank that snickers at “free checking” ~surely you jest~ everything bears interest and you pay for the account if  your balance drops under however many grand.  That kind of Type A successful in the past.

NOW she’s off doing mom and dad love her more cause she was here first (she drilled that one in my head… older siblings, eeeyeah, gotta love ’em?) righteous whoknows but always Like A Boss, type of stuff, but being “not Stacy” I assure you it’s without losing her proverbial poop ala Samburg (no promtion of synergy or fish boffing, no oral self gratification, crapping on desks, she has yet to turn into a rocket and far as I know hasn’t flown into the sun yet) Damaged? Me? What is that supposed to…. come back here… Wait… I’m not, I mean.. friends? Not bad girl.. ..I’m ok really…. hugme? (Mmm mm mm mmm hmm hmm) (insert rocking motion here)

Haha, moving on:
Wow, can you tell I’m avoiding stuff by rambling?

Anyway, Lisa hi. k, bye.

I have to INSIST on one thing, if your server blows you off, gives you attitude, gets snippy or pissy with you, does anything but smile and bust butt to try to make you happy…. DON’T GIVE THEM A DIME. Just because waitstaff survive on tips does not mean they can shit on you and you have to pay for it. The inverse is if they’re doing their best but they make a mistake and are sincere/genuine in doing all they can to make things right, that is no justification for refusing to leave a gratuity.

Thinking you know anything about their tips in any way by adding tables/people/averages ect whatever you see or don’t see, is based on absolutely nothing but supposition. Management often divides sections up in strange ways for even stranger reasons. I’ve seen sections look like checkerboards to accomodate multiple new hires (interspersing them with veteran staff their first days solo) ALSO, every restaurant has their own policies… some make you tip other positions out of you take for the night (busboys get 10% Host/ess gets 5% or some variation of ancillary employee and  percentage of your total for the night) OR there are nightmare places where everyone has to POOL their tips and it’s all split equally amongst the servers (I’d walk. The moment they held the bucket out for my money I’d give them the finger before I’d give them a dime hahaha) There’s no telling what wacky policies there might or might not be, never just assume it’s black and white.

I guess to oversimplify things, pretend it’s your mom serving you, and you’re helping her out a bit on the side. If the overall experience was positive, the tip should reflect it – refusing to tip becuase you had to wait for a minute or things weren’t exactly as you wanted them the instant you wanted it but the server damn sure tried to make it right for you is nothing more than a show of childishness, egotism or plain personality defect. If your waitperson gave a true effort and you walk on the tip, it is nothing more than a reflection on your lack of character and overblown ego.

If you aren’t loaded with cash and the bill is higher than you expected, fess up! I had a couple come in and they barely made the bill… they told me they LOVED the service but they just didn’t have anything left over for a tip, they felt bad. I made SURE that they knew the praise made it well worth it and it would even out over the course of the night, that their company while I waited on them was wonderful and made things easier as I worked. I made sure they felt good about the situation (I sure did because I knew why there wasn’t a tip, an honest reason – I’ve promised myself long ago that I value truth more than material posessions so it was just a beautiful act of generosity on their part.) After they left the bus boy cleaned their table went to the manager giving her something from the table. They had filled out a GLOWING comment card, (in red crayon no less) it made me sound like I was exactly what would happen if Mother Theresa and Robin Williams had a child raised by the peace corps. ( : ( :

I felt like a rock star, She xeroxed it and put it up on the wall in the break room, it went to corporate! I got a letter from the corp office commending me for being a prime example of a Denny’s wait person, thanking me for being part of the Denny’s family, that they appreciated that I was exemplary in providing the best dining experience for those patrons and how the company exsisted because of employees like me. Any no raise, bonus, fanfare, balloon, live buttsmooch, just that, a You Rock form letter.  but THAT rocked because no one at the restaurant had ever seen one before (remember working with me? all this? y’all can still eatit I rocked that table! hahaha)

ok, I have crap to do and I wrote this like I write my mental vomit.  Seat of the pants, I’m not even going to read it (just like the mental vom…. Prose, Published dark allegoric prose, Yeah, that. not barf.  Not to you, that’s just a  um. a joke, yeah an  inside joke here at home

peacy outu

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View the spew

Posted on January 11, 2013. Filed under: a look in my book, goofy crap, Mental Hurling, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

image

Steal what you will
I refuse it
I can not be me and
You can not
Have me
My pieces
Have never fit
You prove
Nothing
With
Gossamer
Threads
I will

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Needy

Posted on November 28, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Musings, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

An ancient tool, little else
passed from hand to hand.
Its origin is unknown
- workings quite the mystery
Each who wields it leaves their mark
- shapes future outcomes.
But such things lay in mystery
to random hands.
The tool, a marvel a menace,
some leave, work incomplete 
incapable of tolerating the unmistakable
and incessant noise it produces.
Those who tolerate and persevere 
are rewarded with wonder and delight.
Once set in motion this tool
- indescribable!
Yet fallible, it lays silent,
glaring signs of misuse and harm scattered
across its silent form.
Even in the most malevolent hands
it has produced surreal sights,
sublime beauty.
It has a purpose and that is its gift.
Time and distraction combined 
to cancel the mechanism
It makes no sound.
Serves no purpose.
Produces no inspiration.
It withers alone, useless.
The victim of oversight
and inertia it waits.
Its inner workings longing 
for needy hands.
Denying the passage of time
since it last heard 
the useful whine of its gears and cogs
The constant audible reassurance,
I am here
I am of use
I can astound!
Stupidly, it sits immobile
hoping for the day desperation
leads curious hands
to let it feel alive one more time
Willing in every inch of its being 
to reward that with magnificence.

escm?11tymm
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Think

Posted on November 11, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Musings, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

Those who claim to love themselves unconditionally generally do so ignorant of the true nature of their own mind. The duality of our thoughts are attributed to “evil” or outside forces. This can not be true. From the simmplest notions to the most complex emotions we are programmed. We behave and conciously think as we do because we are taught and conditioned to do so for the benefit of society.

However

To love yourself – all of yourself – you must accept the fact that that little voice in the back of your mind, …is valid. Those terrible thoughts of murderous rage. Lustful indiscretions. Selfish thoughtless-gimmie. Illegal, immoral, the pit is deep and dark. Those thoughts would  be acted upon if not for your training. Can you accept that? Think of all the horrible things that have crossed your mind. You conceivably are capable of each. Your subconcious spat it out, you created it, your doing.

Think long and hard about who you truly are.

Still in love with you?

sccirca10?

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Reprieve

Posted on August 13, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Musings, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

Silenced.  My voice means nothing
My words are all I have, all I am left with
Once proud and possessing qualities that made me whole
Complete
I am, was, stripped of all and left with my words
They fall on deaf ears
Air passes from my lips with thought and feeling,
At times great emotion accompanying it
The sounds I make are meaningless.
Reduced now to ink and paper
Searching for those who would understand
I see Hope.  What I recall Hope to be.
The world turns a deaf ear to my one remaining sanity
Save an island of hope
A promise of things I dare not say aloud
Lest the spell be broken
I long to freely admit my desire
Damn this self imposed gag order
I want camaraderie.  I long for sympathetic ears
I need intelligent banter.  I crave reciprocation
I sit, drowning in apathetic masses –
Unaware of the horror their mundane existence represents
Therein lies no beauty, no emotion, no truth
They grind and they shun simple words
Because they represent complex notions:
Why?  How?  What if?
Do you see?
Their eyes tightly closed they shuffle through life
Refusing to stray from their blindered paths
I need joy.  I’ve learned to relish my pain
I have to stay off their path
I endure, and have done so, because I have felt what it is
To be alive
I have died many times and come back
There is no blinder to negate that
The common consensus will not “see”
They refuse to hear.  Can NOT accept my words
Deny my voice
I cease to exist, it is their comfort
I can not stay silent
Though I may be ignored what is festering in me must be expelled
I will not allow my voice to be lost
Hope – my island – Hope listens
Hope hears, Hope understands
I say this now, know your true name
Walk with me, listen and know
That in doing so, You are Hope

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I’ve kissed my last ass

Posted on July 7, 2012. Filed under: Announcements, Contests, goofy crap, Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Prose, why the hell not | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

I promise I’m ok. I am a rubber ball. Every time, then, now, next time…. always. I know why I’m here, I know how to endure physical, mental and verbal abuse. Doesn’t matter what happens, I will always wind up on my feet.

I pull rabbits out of hats left and right. Know why?    Because I have to.

Know how? ……………. Neither do I. But there they are.

And here I am.

At the moment, I am all about doing what I need to get done. I NEED someone to renew my faith in mankind. I KNOW there is someone out there as so speshul as I am that the term “think outside the box” is funny. ( I laugh because I have to poke my head IN the box so people can understand me the majority of the time.)

The Magic Word Contest HAS MORE PRIZES… LOTS OF WICKED NEATO COOL STUFF, V A L U A B L E stuff. I want to give someone neato fun things!  

DO NOT PUT YOUR GUESS IN THE COMMENTS – IT WILL NOT BE ACKNOWLEDGED . I WILL SIMPLY DELETE IT.

CALL 908-FOR-EGGS with your guess. only one or two guesses per call, don’t call me trying to read the dictionary I’m going to call you a dork and hang up. (i really will) and if you blow up my phone and make me have to give up my toytoy number I took half a day to hunt down I am going to wish a splinter on you. (bank on that too)

haha!   ahem.   moving on:

Ok, Jewelry from the Marcimallow collection. Yes

I will create a work … satire in a timely manner or… something “deep” haha some of that purty mental vomit they love to publish and never pay me for if given time (I have no control over when or what that is about… it is a subliminal defense mechanism, I have no idea what I have written <consciously> until I’ve finished and I go back and read it. that’s why when eggstacee.com is up I intend to scan in the original and offer a typed translation. ALL mental vomit (prose) is hand written. ALL of it. The way the handwritting turns out is a part of the work. If that makes any sense. I know what I mean.    Your choice, I will throw down on whatever I find silly about some aspect of something in whatever area you choose to point me OR you can wait until I’m forced to banish the unbearable event from my mind by binding it to paper.

Ok, ADDITIONALLY there will be…

something egg related (obviously)

something really juvenile but neato cool anyway (because my inner child was always miserable and I explained why things were the way they were and knowing how she felt can’t resist the chance to indulge the crap out of her… we are so tight I let her run things often, No one can tell us apart anymore haha)

and I will ask a question that will seem odd but it will determine the very nature of the awesome prize I will choose for you.

I want to have fun.

I want to do fun things.

I wish I had the time to mess with ssl or csl or abc.. no wait, got that.   the web page crap that is specific to the template I INSIST on using because I adore it.

I’m so mean to me haha, gimme gimme huh… ok. Happy now, you have it and you can’t use it. Brat.

I earned it.

I’ll kick it in the butt… right after I put my life together in a way that I proper.

Tmobile managed to elminate what I accomplished … as promised.

It’s ok

I kept really clear undeniable records.  I don’t have much else to do to kill time till I can close on a new home.

nana… nana……. nananananan (insert jaws music)

(:

I’m going to start with the store on I-45 and FM 1960 in Houston, TX where the Manager and two employees joyously bashed humiliated lied belitted, one arrogant defective thing suddenly blathered nonsense and lunged at me claiming I was enciting violence! I was a bit freaked to say the least.

They lost their shit when I named them each and thanked them for their participation in my ability to prove the company wide malcious manipulation or exploitation of my disabilies and gleeful attempts to assure my misery and inability to persist in any capacity.

I called about the pseudo cop they threw on me as I tried to leave the parking lot to understand what I’d done that was criminal. The manager’s response after a 2 or 3 second pause was…. <click>

hahahah LIKE A BOSS

I called back and asked once more to help me understand since I have NO experience with crime crap … what brance of law enforcement do I need to contact to know what I face if I tresspass like I was warned not to do… <click>

What a man!

PLEASE   …do it.. embrace the opportunity to make someone admit they were evil. The manager of the store, when I stated I am pretty clear now that you really don’t like me… responded that’s right, I DON”T like you.   No, NO not at all.

HAHHAHAHAH wow, customer service with a grimace.

call and ask for me?  I get hung up on

 

and go find the magic word game!

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too blind

Posted on June 1, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

there it sits, a pathetic sight once caught by wandering eyes

design flaws rendered the line over after launch, few exist if others at all

not novel nor sought, no value assigned, stripped for scrap but left with one ability

intertia, none bother to know but avoided as if cursed,

no touch gave power to unlock the intended purpose encased in the derelict form

a secret, a test, a gift based on curiosity and drive to experience

lost things, a treasure and a dream

necessity to connect, find a mirrored path

silent and a dire reminder of suffocating solitute

to hint at it’s truth destroys its purose,

to utter objection destroys any hope

resigned to silent torment in secret

watched it sits, avoided, awash in disgust but a source

of individual solace

a chance at liberation

worth waiting

time is just time

it passes and patience is a price willingly paid

for a chance to face any reflection

such kindred emotion, patience is my bane

a price to pay, always a price

….. pain dulls over time

sit… learn… pay

endure in persuit of that moment

to have that moment

any price

pay pay perpetuate pay

kindred and waiting willing enduring…

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