Two Days In A Row?

My new job involved talking to The Public for eight hours a day about cell phones and bills and stuff they can manage on Their Own. It's a bit overwhelming at times because people folks can be outrageously self-entitled for No Reason.

I just want to understand sometimes... how can something You Did be My Fault? That system of logic is foreign to me. You did X and Y happened. It's a very basic premise. Try to follow along. You can not retroactively blame someone for something that they had nothing to do with.

So--I try to help them. I get creative and bend rules and try to make exceptions and--guess what--they don't care. Here is a solution that works spiritually, logically, financially, economically--and they turn it down. Somewhere in their demented framed mind the only solution is no solution.

There it goes.

And be nice. Holy hell, can someone be nice? If I had a flat tire and a stranger stopped to help me I know my first words certainly wouldn't be profane. "F*** you, how dare you stop to help me? You're F******ng worthless. Get your a** over here and change my tire!!! You should have already had it changed. You sure you know how to change a tire?"

Nope. I wouldn't say that. I'd be grateful and appreciative. Why don't other see it the same way? You need help from a total stranger--be nice. Wow.

Just putting some words together again. Seeing how it feels. It feels good.

Hello Again

Good evening. It has been a while. A very long time. Much has happened between last time and now.

I've bought a house. Got a new job. Became a father. Those things are certainly not listed in any particular order of importance.

But life is changing--as it is known to do--every single day.

Let me return to fatherhood. It is amazing. It is certainly the most rewarding and most challenging role I've ever had to take on in my life.

Watching my son learn and become a person serves as a reminder of how entertaining and inspiring life can be. Everyday is a holiday, every moment and adventure, every taste a journey into the unknown.

My wife has taken up blogging. Which I'm very proud of. She's very witty--and a great story teller. She writes about the good, the fun and the smelly parts of being a Mom. Find her at www.MoMentousjourney.blogspot.com.

I'm writing some poetry again. It has been a ridiculously long time since any rhymes came to me. It was refreshing and frightening at the same time. I wasn't sure I could whip words like I used to write.

I even wrote one that didn't rhyme. I'm proud of me. How bout it.

But--the words are coming back again. I don't know why they left or what's changed. But they are coming back and I'm trying to let them just pour out of me.

This is the most I've even thought about writing in a damn long time. There's a therapeutical feeling that comes from the methodic clicking and pacing of the keys as I lay in bed and type these words. 26 strangely shaped designs scattered haphazardly across this keyboard gives me the tool I need to express myself. Sometimes I stutter when I talk. I never stutter when I type.

Maybe that's why I started writing anyway? I could never verbalize out loud what I wanted to say--my voice would choke or my tongue would twist but when written... when written my words took on their own strength and my clumsy vocals would not impede on the words I wanted to say.

Yes. Yes indeed. The words are back. I could type all nite.

My lovely wife is next to me breathing peacefully. She has lovingly said nothing about the noise or the light but I know I am keeping her from her rest. Because she loves me she lets me type and because i love her I will stop--at least for tonite.

I missed you words.

Hello Again.

-jps

Michael Jackson--A Thought

Here Today—Gone Tomorrow

Like A Castle Built Upon A Sandy Beach--Gone Too Soon

“Gone Too Soon”

-Michael Jackson

I did the moonwalk across my bedroom floor. I posed. I twitched and attempted to dance like the King of Pop. I believed in “The Man in the Mirror”. I knew I could make a change. Michael said so. We could “Heal the World”. If we would all just agree and believe and try to find that common ground—then we could find salvation together and “make it a better place for you and for me”. Those memories remain with me as the passing of a pop icon fills the TV screens and swamps the radio airwaves.

Michael Jackson was vilified by the media for his sexual escapades, the questionable qualms of a strange musician, the never ending nose jobs, the always changing pigment of his skin to the point that he fled the country to find residence in Dubai where he might escape exploitation and mockery. Did his death dull his deviations from the norm? Have we forgotten who he was? Both musician and maniac? Both artistic and deranged? We’ve glossed over his shortcomings in the shadow of his death but as we mourn his passing it would be unjust to forget his shortcomings. To celebrate Michael is to celebrate all he was—the good and the bad—not just as an artist.

Countless allegations have been made to his sexuality—was he a homosexual? Pedophile? Many charges were made—most were dropped. Where does his mental state fit into the picture? It’d be easy to vilify Jackson as a man with a fetish for young boys but how childlike did Michael appear even later in life? Could he not have the mind of a child and prefer the company of children? Strange—yes—but criminal? That’s not for me to say—just to force you to question.

His music is legendary. His dance moves imitated and influenced everyone popping and locking and moon walking to this day. The Jackson 5 were phenomenal and their songs remains popular across the nation.

The nation grieves and many call for a national day of remembrance for his iconic career--but why? Haven’t there been other artists that passed that were just as legendary? Not only artists—but humanitarians and scholars and doctors and scientist. On top of that—what about our soldiers? The ones who voluntarily give their lives? Don’t get it twisted—Michael’s life was as meaningful as the next but it’s unfair to other fallen people to elevate his convoluted life to the level of a saint.

In short—let us grieve but let us move forward. Michael Jackson was an artist and a man and nothing else. He was not a martyr or a saint. He lived, he sang songs that will last forever, and he died. Alone. Because we’d forgotten about him. Because we vilified him and ostracized him.

May you rest in peace Michael. We’ll remember your music, your passion, your brilliance, your zipper jacket and the Thriller dance. But it’ll hard to forget the rest.

“Here today, gone tomorrow—

But I know one thing—

I’ll be one tough act to follow,

I’ll be on tough act to follow”.

-Eminem

how bout it

Hammering through the day, grinding out a dreadfully hot Friday in the deep out, I am currently sitting on a stool that's too short, too hard, and too damn uncomfortable for any sane person.

So--here we are. The country is currently falling on its face, the job market has shrunk up like old men in cold swimming pools, and money is being wasted like those commercials where people are throwing away greenbacks.

On a happier note--if there are any happy notes left--I am doing more writing these days. I'm doing my game reviews for the newspaper (hoorah!) and I'm going to be doing a music piece in the next few weeks.

I just wanna say this to people a lot of days. Don't be a jerk.

This is a bit sporadic isnt it? Nothing coming together, no ideas linking up gracefully.... just random stammerings of a lunatic.

Have a great weekend.

-let it be

Under Current of Danger

There is an undercurrent of danger in Wilmington… It is a feeling that at any moment the shit could hit the fan. People walk together, casting suspicious glances over their shoulders, teenagers travel in packs in order to survive and the streets aren’t safe to wander around after dark.

Indeed—Wilmington maintains two faces and rarely do they show themselves outside of their naturals habitats. The day hours are full of laughter and sunshine both imbued with peace and happiness and the grand atmosphere of being in a beach town. The masses roam blissfully unaware of the chaos that creeps after dark. Lovers walk slowly down Front Street, hand in hand, stopping to stare in windows without casting a second thought to anyone who might be around. Strolling along in blissful naiveté thee thought of crime never crossing their minds. Yet as the sun sets the crowds tends to disperse to make way for the evening in all its hooded glory. The bar hoppers come in flocks, the gaggle of girls with linked arms…

The night brings on a sense of unease that tugs at the strings that hold us together. Our back tightens up and our steps get quicker. We march deftly to our cars after the movie ends and never dream of stopping to get gas until the morning. What is it about the night that disturbs us all? Or—here’s a thought—have we cast our own misgivings onto the nite? I need erase that last sentence… We all recognize the night as harbingers of hate. But why? Are more crimes committed during the nite hours? Surely that’s part of it. Or do we just imagine more crimes being possible?

But—the real essence behind this piece—is why do we do it? If you’re reading this then hopefully you’re not committing crimes but if you are… Why? Our town is a haven for happiness and sandy feet memories, not a cesspool of chaos. I saw a kid outside of Independence Mall last week standing alone with a sack of merchandise in his hand, fresh off the shelf, waiting on a ride or merely paused before walking to a car. He looked down at his cell phone, the bag hanging in his hand and at that moment it was over. Another youth ran by him, grabbed the bag, dove into the car that just happened to be passing by and disappeared. Instant.

My body filled with rage. It’s impossible to explain being robbed and denied what is yours. Now I approach each store with my guard up, expecting something to happen. If my guard falls then what happens to me? What about other people? The thief thinks this lasted only for a moment when in reality it impacted everyone for life. Let’s end it.

2nite

sometimes words just run thru my mind--random phrases, freestyle verses, concepts that crush me momentarily but never escape the constraints of my min. I hate this keyboard.

sometimes i think i'm depressed... it's difficult getting up and going to a job you're not particularly excited about. I used to be excited--when i had my own store. now i'm back in wilmington and i'm just another cog in the wheel. every fuckin day i have to go and pretend and smile and do whatever it is to get along because i'm no longer the guy in charge.

i have to worry about people worrying about what i'm doing--no one kinows how to mind their own business. it's retarded.

i'm a grown ass man. i know how to work. but we can't communicate. and i'm still viewed as if i'm some young kid working there. how many of them have run a store alone? how many have sat thru hours alone debating how to draw in more customers, more store traffic? ALONE.

i feel like i've proven myself but i still hate it.

blah.

not so dangerous

...the world, that is. To quote Douglas Adams-- "Mostly harmless". I've put myself in a bubble. I don't watch TV much and never the news and I never listen to the radio. Oh--I watch shows like "House" or "Redemption Song" (my new favorite junk show--it combines skanky girls and singing, two of my favorite things) but as a whole I avoid most all forms of outside communication.

It's just that it pollutes my mind.

If you believe the papers and the news then you would expect the world to come to a screeching halt tomorrow. The End. So long thanks for playing. Ka-Put. Zilch.

But it's not. It's not going to end and this overwhelming PANIC that the world is constantly in needs to cease. I hate this keyboard.

It's just LIFE man... I can't explain it. I've lost a lot of things in my life so I'm comfortable with the lesser chaos. I've got a job, a good wife, and two puppies.

Housing crisis. Not concerned. Economic shitfall. Not concerned. Why not?

Because none of it is new. The country has faced problems before and we're still here.

Even if the stock market fucking TANKS tomorrow--we'll still be here.

Good day.

-jps

well

Ridiculously disappointed that no one read my previous post--at least no one commented. I put it on Facebook and it caused a firestorm. Yes indeed.

I'm feeling more at peace with myself lately--maybe it's because I'm writing more. It was always my drug--kind of how booze is for some. If I don't write I become crotchety, manic, out of balance... it's a weird thing.

My writings for the paper--video game reviews--are being received well. I hope so anyway. And I'm getting down with allpoetry.com.

That being said... I did write a poem I'm proud of--not that I'm not proud of them all--but at least a new one that I like a lot.

Indeed.

Memory of Song

Forsaking faith, no confession for the priest
Truth is—music doth sooth the savage beast
At least—for me, my soul is soothed with song
The lyrical writing righting every single wrong

The laid back tracks with bass beats that break
A high hat—a cymbal—a sick riff—is all it takes
To ease the pain from a late nite lovers strife
To force the hand to fail that holds the fatal knife

Our life—never written—for better or worse
We all sing our own song—every single verse
So with tomorrow’s mic still hanging in our face
Sing with abandon—for our amazing grace

Our souls need saving—but it’s not always faith
Sometimes its only the piano—just a spiritual taste
Our mind responded—aroused by the sound
Still hear the hook no matter how far turned down

So the beat break, the cymbals still crash
Each note just another link to our past
Every fading chorus just another lost sorrow
And the memory of song intro to tomorrow.

-jps

and again

It's a ridiculously rainy day at ye ol' paint store. I don't know why I call it that--but there it is.

Someone anonymously asked if my profanity was necessary--yes, yes it is. Words don't phase me--words are what hold this country together and I will use them all.

I just spend 3 minutes staring at this screen trying to find a place to begin writing. Nothing.

Wait--I'll post something I wrote for Facebook.


Obama Prevails--Part Deux

Indeed--Obama will now be our President. That is no longer up for Debate or controversy. That fact was decided on November 4th. The President of the United States of America--in case there was a question there. He will command the most powerful country in the World and its citizens. As citizens of the US and a true democracy we MUST bow to the system that we have so long heralded and praised. We--that is, the country--have long praised the system so long as it kept the monopoly on the Presidency limited to White Dudes Who Thought Like They Thought. Now that the system has worked as it has always worked and elected our next President the country is scrambling like someone yelled fire at a blind crippled convention.
Don't get it twisted--I have reservations about Obama but I will no longer tolerate bigotry and ignorance concerning his election. Racism and hate speech have no place in America and definitely not in reference to our Commander in Chief. And besides--should be not be excited for hopefully Black America and White American can be joined under the Umbrella of fairness? Am I happy Obama got elected? No. But it has nothing to do with ridiculous racial associations--nothing at all. But I am Willing and Able to put those reservations aside and focus on the future as a solidified country. I am a Patriot and as such I support the President. He represents our Country and all we stand for. We can not let ancient prejudices stain our spirit. Why not? We are America--and we pride ourselves on our diversity and eclectic population.
Many men have been president before Barack and many will be President afterward. Many times have assumptions been made and assumptions have been crushed just as often. The President holds a position and office of power, respect and gargantuan responsibility. It is not our place to mock it--we have no concept of the immense pressure that the President faces and as TRUE AMERICANS we must support Obama As the President--if not for his personal beliefs. We must take the salve of Democracy and smear it on the wounds of disappointment--we simply must.
The parched throats of screaming Republicans must drink in the wine of the American spirit. We must get drunk on possibilities and dream of better days. The bitter battle for the Oval Office is over--that fight has been fought and the Republicans Lost--there is no way around it. Yes, I lost--but that is no longer the Matter at Hand. The Matter, the Focus, must be on a UNIFIED front. We are America and the President is the Face of America. We Must seize our bickering and stand together--or fall separately. We cannot change anything--we can only work with what we have--for good or for ill--and hope for better days. As much as it pains me to say these words--In Obama we must Trust--but we must Pray.
For those who seek to remain bitter--exert your energies on moving forward--it is the Only Way to Survive.

Good Day.

Obama Prevails.

indeed

--much has been going on. I still hate this keyboard--my hands immediately turn into retarded dino claws and I cannot type for long. But I will soldier on--yes, indeed.

Nathan got married. It was awesome. I looked fantastic in my tuxedo. We went mud slinging the nite before, got stuck, had to wander around in chest deep water with my jeans and hoodie on--the boys were wearing waders. Bastards. I'm trying to find a writing job that will fuckin PAY me on a regular basis. It does not have to be full time--just consistent. Once a month. Maybe twice. Just to know it's coming. Start stashing it away. Buy a motorcycle. Fuckin something.

I did get a piece put in the Star News My appreciation for video games has finally paid off. They pay me to review video games. But they don't provide the games. It'd be nice if they did. Regardless--it's another check. Write on--right on.

So the game is afoot. Trying to make use of this skill I call typing--wish me luck.

day off

thank god for days off--it means i worked too hard to keep working.

so i slaved in the yard. mowed. cut down shrubs. cut down limbs. destroyed nature.

it was awesome.

so i'm blogging. some more. there's just not a lot to tell. i'm trying to take on a voice.

develop a spirit or a being--an online persona.

word.