Friday, October 15, 2010

Words don't matter. Magic isn't real. Art is bullshit.

Friday, July 02, 2010

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You want that ice cream cone? Fuck you. You ain't getting it.

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When I was a kid, I would pray the rosary until I fell asleep. There are rules to the rosary that work well with an OCD kid. Plus, the rosary is crazy. You may see some jewelry, but the truth is, it's full of mystery.

Rosary comes from the Latin word rosarium, which means rose garden. It combines vocal and silent meditational prayer, consisting of repeated sequences of the Lord's Prayer followed by ten Hail Mary and a single praying of "Glory Be to the Father" and is sometimes accompanied by the Fatima Prayer. Each of these sequences is known as a decade. As you pray each decade, you meditate on one of the Mysteries of the Rosary, which are events in the lives of Jesus Christ and his mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary.

There are 15 mysteries, in 3 sets, joyful sorrowful and glorious. In 2002, Pope John Paul II announced 5 new optional mysteries, the luminous mysteries, bringing the total number of mysteries to 20.

Even now, when in the car, I sometimes pray the Rosary. I'm not sure if I believe in God or anything at all, but it makes me feel better sometimes to meditate and pray.

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I am your yard. You'll walk all over me, let your dog shit all over me and forget about me from time to time. But I'll always be here.

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Monday, June 28, 2010

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Sometimes, when life seems like it's getting tough, I like to take a bath in macaroni salad.

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If you can just hold on long enough, you won't puke.

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When I was a kid, I always wanted an all concrete yard so that I never had to cut grass again. But now that I am in the city, I appreciate the green. That said, I hate cutting grass.

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Friday, June 25, 2010

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This is a house of mystery. No, scratch that. A house of shenanigans.

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One more draw, one more sip. I always leave some behind. I never finish a drink. Sometimes, I feel like I can't finish all they have given me. Other times, I hover at the table and want to sip again and again at my water. Just one sip. Just one more taste. All water is recycled over time, again and again. You may have drank the water that a famous gladiator once sipped. Who knows?

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Most of us never realize that we are creating shrines to our lives. We only see that we are placing what's in our pockets somewhere or our loose change somewhere to collect it for eventual use. But the truth is, we are leaving our identity for others to see.

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Thursday, June 24, 2010

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That duck has something to hide.

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Why are games called such horrible names? Aggravation. Trouble. Monopoly. I guess Candy Land is a good name. It does not make you think all fucking hell is about to rain down. If there was a board game that I had my face on, it'd be Sorry.

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Sometimes, it's simple. But it's times like that that I realize that worrying about life makes it even less simple. Why obsess over simple? Just enjoy that it is that way. These guys? If you can't get it? They don't have it. Also, if they don't have it, the other signs says that they will get it. Even if you can't find it, you don't need it, but you'll get it. See? Simple.

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Monday, June 07, 2010

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"I do declare," said Barbie, "we are going to a cotillion."

"Do you think the boys will ask us to dance?" inquired Barbie.

"I, for one, know that they surely will," answered Barbie.

"But my dress...will the boys notice my dress?" Barbie was in a state.

Just then, a small child bought all 4 for $3 and threw them in a shopping bag.

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What route did these hard rubber tires once roll over? Did they take the kids from to some other place, far from the two lane highway that goes over hills and valleys, buried in the woods? The kids are long gone, long escaped and the cars remain, hoping to fuel the dreams of a whole new generation of drivers.

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One would have to figure that if Fred an cut through rocks in the quarry that he works in, his work with firewood has to be immaculate.

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Monday, April 26, 2010

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Of all the art we saw on the gallery crawl, we liked this guy the most.

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As much as we like art, we like beer more.

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Wednesday, April 14, 2010

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Look, just because you have Christmas in your heart all year doesn't mean you can sing "Deck the Halls" at karaoke in June.

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Maybe my family album doesn't look like yours. But my family is so much cooler than yours, anyway.

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The mirrors give off the fact that your eyes are so far away. Even when your body is right here.

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Tuesday, April 13, 2010

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Ironically, the invisible rabbits thought Harvey was just as crazy for seeing Elwood as we thought he was for seeing Harvey.

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When shopping at a magic store, count your change carefully. It can multiply. You can lose your wallet. And sometimes, nickels just turns into birds.

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What kind of puppet would you be? I'd be a wolf. You'd put me on your hand and I'd bite you. Rarrrrrrrr.

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Look, if you are going to try and kill me with a machete, the least you can do is wash your face.

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Monday, April 05, 2010

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My voice to your heart.

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Buried beneath the amber under frosty mugs, his face stared out into the barely there light. Francis, born in 1962, immortal forever, drunkard's source of wonder.

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Tuesday, March 30, 2010

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When I see those scuffs on the hardwood, I don't feel bad. They're memories made.

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Luckily, that bomb got diffused, or it would have sucked going home from work.

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I don't need an iPhone. Or anything else new they try and sell me. I got a cel. I got a sketchpad. I have a laptop. Just more and more and more and more of the same thing all in other forms. I got a TV. I got an X Box. Do I need to carry it in my pocket? It's just one more thing for me to lose.

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Sunday, March 28, 2010

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My bedroom is not under white man's law. Here, you can gamble. Get booze after 2 AM. And sleep all day in my arms.

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Yes, there is an airport in West Mifflin. It's fucking crazy. I mean. Really. Really crazy.

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Truly, this rabbit was the Son of God.

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After World War Hulk, I think we can all agree, the Hulk comic book began to really suck.

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You know how embarrassing it is when you get pulled over and everyone stares at you while the cop writes you a ticket? Well, I can top your story. Trust me.

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Saturday, March 13, 2010

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I knew there was magic here. I didn't know where. But I know this was where I had to make my home.

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Clear the runway. The bunny is in the air. And that means winter is over.

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It's only a plastic carrot. And it may be only a paper moon. But I still feel the way I feel. And that's always real.

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Monday, February 15, 2010

For my boy

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I won't remember you as you left this world. Scared, drowning, bloody, broken down. Gasping. Afraid until you saw me and then calmed.

I will remember the times you slept on my chest and licked my beard until it was clean. When I look back in years to come, I will think of all the long talks we had where you said absolutely nothing and yet heard everything so well.

You were my first cat and we went though a lot. Marriage, divorce, fights, fun, other cats, dogs, love, loss and so much more. And you were always there for me and I was always there for you.

My life will be different now. It seems like such a small thing to an outsider. But last night, I kept catching glimmers of you. Places you should have been. And I know now, all your pain is gone. You don't need to take drugs to stay alive and you don't have me grabbing your fur to check on you all the time and you don't have that crazy orange cat chasing you all over hell.

You made my life better, little cat. I can't say it any plainer. And I can't explain it any better. I love you.

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Wednesday, February 10, 2010

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I wonder how my house sees the snow. Does it hate the feel? Or does it see it as a blanket to wear through the dark chill? Does it look forward to dew and the rays of the sun kissing its shingles? Because I sure do. Oh, Lord, I do.

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Memo to gypsies: This weather thing is really putting a crimp in our style.

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Sometimes I wonder if I leave you a note in the frost, will the molecules carry across the valley? Will they find their way into the air and remember the intent and carve themselves across your window? And when you do dishes, will you look out and see the letters form before your eyes and laugh at the silliness that is inside my head?

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The snow is not as inviting as a warm lap.

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The snow was between my tires like the tracks in a kid car themepark ride. But this ride was much more thrilling. I slid, I slode, I slipped. The ground was armored and I found each chink with my tire. Bump bump bump. Home is far away but there's a warm dog there.

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i've been crazy for a long time. barely hanging on, but still hanging none the less. sometimes i watch the sand slip through my fingers. instead of scrambling to slow the grains, i just watch them drop and think about the waythey feels against my skin. i've been crazy a long time. weaving in and out of good and bad like a drunkard but its with a crisp sobriety that i make the willing decision not to make a decision. I let time wash over me like a river rock. I've been crazy a long time, but one day i will be smooth.

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Monday, January 25, 2010

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Hey, 16 year old me. It's me again. The washed up 37 year old version of yourself. I would like to give you some advice. Do a whole bunch of drugs. Drink more. Get out of the house. That person you're pining for is not worth it. Trust me, I can see this all with the clarity of someone who honestly doesn't want to wake up in the morning any more. And it all started with you. You, 16, wishing for something and watching too many John Hughes movies. Stop watching so much TV. Throw away your comic books. Take down all your stupid posters and cut your fucking hair. Maybe then we'll both have a chance. Eh, who the fuck am I kidding? You can't hear me. I'm sure right now that the 57 year old me is trying to send the same message to the 37 year old me, but then again, I don't see myself ever being 57. Then again, I thought I'd be dead by the time I was 23. And I sure wished I was dead by the time I was 30. So what the fuck do I know, being 37? I've learned absolutely nothing at all. So I have nothing to teach to you at all.

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I wish there was some exorcism I could perform. Some dramatic undo that will take all of this away. Some other world that I could open a door to, somewhere that I could escape from the fog that surrounds me. I can't even escape my world when I dream, as I toss fitfully between glimpses into worlds that don't have any business existing.

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I have a million words but there are only two that I really want to say. That's a lie. I have like a million words that I'd like to say but only three that I'd really want to say. But that's the problem with words. No matter how many you have, they will never change your world.

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Sunday, January 03, 2010

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Grilling in the winter is the only way to cook. Because when food is hot, you can just take it off the grill and roll it in snow and make it cool down. I realize many of you will find this ridiculous, but this is how I live my life.

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I was three feet away but I may as well have been three miles. It was all I could do to keep making blood flow to my heart and brain and legs and arms and finish why I was there. And then I drove home the wrong way.

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The grass is under a layer of ice and snow, achievable only through my dog's insistent nose borrowing. He will find the green under the gray. Beauty remains even if we can't find it.

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