Monday, October 26, 2009


This is gonna be weird. Right off the bat, this is scary. I'm not even sure how to do this anymore. i used to just sit down and let everything pour out of me. I don't know why it's not so easy anymore. I think it's that there didn't used to be pressure. It used to be for me. So I feel like if I keep this to myself it's ok. Maybe only tell a few people.

I feel like I'm being watched all the time. I just keep wanting to sink further into obscurity, but at the same time I don't. My other blog's success excites me. It's not my face that's recognizable, so that's fine. I kinda don't really have friends anymore. I mean, there are some people. But I don't have anyone I feel like I could call if I just need to talk. And it's not that I don't think anyone is there. I just don't know how to talk about how I feel anymore.

I think having that pseudonym helped. I could pretend I was telling the story of some mythical admiral who lived forever. And sure it's relations to me were painfully obvious, but it was enough to propel me into an expressive state. Maybe I just need a new character. I know I can't return to the admiral. I can't really explain what I hate about him so much, but I hate it.

I don't really feel at home anywhere lately. I'm gonna stop right now. I'll write some more later. I'm gonna think some more on this new character as well.

Monday, June 1, 2009

It's been a long time... long time now. The glitter and glitz is gone. Long shattered are the dreams of a foreign sailor, and still cut short are the very things that put him to sea. A new breed comes and a new breed goes. Call it a ritual, call it whatever you will. I'll call it home and hell and breathing and everything that ever was. My bed has been empty for weeks, but only for the shortest of while. My love will return, and yet every moment is searing with her gone. The air is dryer. Hotter. A flag waves sullenly in the background and I can't help but wonder of the tales it could scream. That lost loves and destroyed men it could tell of. One could only imagine, and so that's what I do. I imagine a man with a rifle and a torn about family. And another man, bent to his knees. Begging for his life. For forgiveness. I imagine a woman constantly stood up by her suitor, while he gallivants around town with other unsuspecting women. I imagine me, bleeding in an ally. Imagination goes out the window. Fuck what you can dream if lusting ever becomes too bearable. This is not for me, and for naught I will destroy it all. In my waking path new buildings will rise and we will continue a cycle we a forced to quit.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

My throat screams for a glass of water. I try to make sound but not even a croak etches its way out. My wrists and ankles are cut and sore from shackles. It's been seven weeks and they have yet to tell me why I'm being held like this. Not that it matters. I already know. You can't live forever without making a few enemies along the way. I made a lot. Don't get me wrong. This is probably not some nefarious evil doer that has a dynamic plan to overtake the world. This is a rag tag group of pirates who simply hate me for all I've done to rid the seas of their filthy kind. And now I'm being tortured. The fleet will find me soon enough. I've no doubt that they have picked up a witch by now to help them track me down. And she'll be the best witch money can buy, because the entire Portugese kingdom backs me. Laugh and drnk heartily and enjoy it for as long as you can, mates. Your time is up, and I will pour sand down each and ever one of my tormentors throats. They will know this pain as I have.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

A stumble. A small stretch across a vivid land. A soul left only to wander. A filthy soldier wishing he had even half the chance of the people he left behind. Never look back. That was their mantra, was it not? Well fuck that. I wanted a return. I wanted to give a god damn for once in my fucked up cataclysm of a life. Welcome to desolation. Welcome to a bleak past brought anew. I wanted to sit there and silently watch the vinyl disc spin on it's platform, emitting a scratchy rendition of songs so old even my Grandfather could not recognize them. Blessed was the sea I had parted. I can't be a part of the sand I so longed to create. The beach was no longer glass and garbage. Sand and salt. I could already feel the burn of the sun on the back of my neck. I am not at home. This is a desert. Get on your knees. Get on your knees. Get on... Where is this coming from. A gun in my neck. Don't turn around. You will die. If only he knew. As long as she lives, I live. How long had I been down in those catacombs? I guess I have some things to take care of...

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Sink through my skin

How do I tell you I've been faking? That I never really did get over it? I fell apart all over again last night. this whole time I've been telling everyone the same story. I played it different. It ended even worse, I think. Now no one knows but me, and I don't want to tell them. Some actually admire me for being over it, and I think they'd resent me for it to know I wasn't really over you. Fuck. See, I never know how to put all of this down. I form it so well in my head, but the second it leaves it all looks a jumbled mess to me. I'll try this again in a bit.

Reheal this covers

Revisiting angst. Death Cab plays in the background. Eccentricity seems more vague. I'm just a carbon copy again. Oh, what it was to be so naive. Don't get me wrong. I'm still playing quite the fool. The fall guy. I don't even know what I'm getting at with that statement, though. I had quite a bit to drink last night. Oh, I'm at work right now. I almost said that I'm working, but you know I don't get paid to blog, so clearly I'm not actually working. A fellow just told me Death Cab is his favorite band. He's the only customer in the store and I just happen to be playing his favorite album ever. That almost never happens to people. Anyway, back to drinking last night. I don't know if you know this, but I'm quite the emotional person when I drink. This isn't to say that I am sad, I'm just a very extreme projection of emotions. Happiness, anger, love; it's all there. Last night sadness hit me. That's always the worst. I end up almost seeking out ways to further the sadness. Then it becomes anger. Any sad person eventually becomes angry. Angry at whatever it is that made you sad. Angry in general. Can I just say that I don't blame him. Don't bother trying to guess who. You're wrong. I promise. But really, he had every right. He saw what I saw. Why not, then? Back to last night. Actually, I'm not sure where this story was going. I was upset. Bla bla bla. What do you care, right?

Saturday, January 2, 1971

Fig. 036

The old man inside me remains bitter and cold
He hates how you deceived him and how he's gonna die
He left behind his history, but how he wants it back
Love has been denied him and he's screaming for the ocean
The salt inside his lungs is a welcoming embrace
Oh, you could have held him close but now he is just gone
I miss that little piece of me that you took away
Oh it meant so much back then, not just a tattered rag
Why'd you say that I could keep it when you knew it wasn't true?
Why did I keep bleeding when I knew it'd just come through?
I gave up all belongings for a ship inside a bottle
Message status: not received, and now all hope is lost
So long to this old city, your streets did have my soul
Your river captured my heart, and your people took my life
That sounds so much harsher than it ever was
I loved each and every one for everything they stole

Now I must part
To reinvent myself
It's time to start again
I'm back up on the shelf

Tuesday, December 15, 1970

Fig. 035

A letter from the king to his nemesis. To his brother.

My brother,

I will be a ghost that flanks your every movement. Time has come and you will regret the day you ever entered my life. I stayed still for so very long and let move in to plague our cities. Well now my people scream in terror at the blood you've shed. I've called upon a greatness to come and seize your head, and he will stay to the task until it is carried out. He brings with him his own small army, and there is nothing you can do to stop him. Consider this over, and know that I do regret that it ever had to come to this my brother. When I told you I loved you, well God dammit I meant it, but you brought it on yourself.

His people's king.

Fig. 034

From the Admiral's logs:

God left the world sometime last month. I'd been at sea for two weeks and was informed upon my return. We had thrown a large bash for the promotion of my first mate right before we left, and it seems that the moment we set sail he fled. It seems to happen like this everytime. I finally get close to seeing him and he turns and runs. A coward. So what's a boy or girl to do? He's made out to be this legend amongst these people, and then he threw a wrench into the cogs that power this once well-kept machine. My knuckles blistered in anger, and walking became difficult. I feined the use of the medic and went on a quest, but I only returned empty handed. The first mate joined me, along with a small crew of my captains. The frenchman seems to be going through some pretty bizarre troubles himself. Maybe this is what he needs. We came upon evil today. It's tentacles raised high, nine men died, and I killed them myself. Things aren't going the way I planned. They are exceeding expectations. I am not pleased by this. I've been listening to a musician we brought on board for some time now. I am paying him well to not stop playing. The harp does something to me. My skin has begun to peel back and my flesh grows more bare as each day passes. I am being torn from something I used to be, but it seems to be showing its ugly face more often in realizing its own death. I was lied to, and the beast was brought from his slumber. It's hard to put back to rest something that has already been dormant for several years. Was it worth all this? Your deception has sickened me and my crew alike. Can you still smile? How did he feel? Every hair on his body bristling to meet with you, and you were starving for trouble. Five captains raised their brows in deep anticipation for a frightful vengeance, and when not one came they were settled in an eerie way. Now one has taken upon himself to darken the deeds of past, and the rest and myself must set forth to set things right. I'm still the king's man, and his daughter is in deep need. I've ignored her troubles too long, but it's hard to return to her after such a stained past. She was greatly disheartened at my absence, and I fear I'll never quite be forgiven. I won a bet and got back my ways, but how do I carry on a deed I'm no longer sworn to? My nation worries and I have no sympathy. I will fulfill his one last wish and allow her to take the thrown, and then I will leave. I've already left. It was noted long ago that things could never play out the way he really intended them to. I'll take my captains and we will start anew. Nothing will come of this. Everything will come from this. Someone did die for this, and now they will live again.

Thursday, November 26, 1970

Fig. 033

I'm so in love with you.

You've got soul so deep in your eyes
It's not the color that swims, it's those things that lie beneath
You've got heart buried down in your chest
And you keep giving it up until the world's at its best
You've got me wrapped so tight around you
I'm falling more every day, there is no bottom to touch
You've got legs and they were made to move
So let's speed things up and give this thing some groove
I've got a fire in my heart
It's finally left my lungs
I can breathe again
God, I can breathe again
I've got a purpose in sight
You've set me back on track
And I can see again
God, I can see again

How do you do this to me?
It's such a wonderful place to be
When I've got you here in my arms
Yea, when I've got you here in my arms