still

I’m a truly kind person, and don’t understand the high and mighty persona that other people like to wear. I’ve been rocking the hell out of this world since ’76 – and in that time I’ve realized that we’re all fucking retarded. No one person is better, hotter or cooler then anyone else. Some people are better at doing things then others… like.. I can’t really play the upright bass all that well, despite believing that it’s the single greatest instrument on earth…… I’m frightened of heights and despise rollercoasters.. although I totally admire the fearless folk who don’t seem to be bothered by the imminent death I feel exudes off the rides. I’m an excellent writer but hate pretentious fucks who use there skill to put others down, or talk in intellectual riddles… I mean.. seriously. We all had to read that book in school too man, please stop quoting excerpts from _____ insert some lit classic here. I’ve been in bars, I’ve been fucking hammered, I’ve done rad things, met rad people and dated fucking rockstars.. but at the end of the day, I’m just as fucking lame, confused, frustrated and annoyed as the last person. I worry about stupid things like…. gaining weight, or if I’m babbling, or if my jokes fall flat… I hold honesty and kindness above social status. I most likely would win if we got in a fight. Not that I’m all that, but I just have been through it and know my skill level. I’ve tried hard to reach out and befriend all the wrong people and learned that usually it’s the people that the cool kids tend to overlook that are the realest, most loving friends to have. Loyalty goes farther then coolness in my world. I fucking hate wasps and its usually cause anytime there in a 2 mile radius of me, they opt to sting me over anyone else. I listen to loud, fast and angry punk. Still. I think its funny that people feel the need to look the part more the walk to talk. I think people take themselves way to seriously, and i think the next person who feels like telling me what faith I should follow, is gonna get fucking smacked. Praise jeebus. I’ve usually fallen for all the bad boys, only to find out that it’s really the good guy I wanted all along. He may not have tattoo’s, or play in a band .. but he knows how to love and be loved on a truly selfless level and that’s perfect and precious enough for me. All it took was letting going of a superficial image to find the treasure that truly mattered. I believe that people put too much emphasis on pretty and forget to discover depth. My grandmother told me once to never rely on my looks in life… cause beauty fades, and if you have no depth or insight to fall back on, you end up nothing but just a once beautiful shell.. She should know. She lived her whole life in front of a camera… and took getting old quite hard. Ok, she went a little nutty.. sorta.. but her hearts in the right spot. I’ve had it with the swine flu and the media’s over dramatization regarding it. I spent my 20s in a drug fueled, alcohol induced fog. I made too much money, and had zero guidance. No one to answer to or hold me accountable. The streets of San Francisco were my playground, and I knew every high roller and every fucking dirtbag in town. I made alot of money through modeling, then through bartending and club promotions. I did nothing but party my way through that goldmine. Meh. No regrets, just observation. I’ve sorta lost my place at the moment.. to old to care about being excepted, and too young to go quietly. Still in love with dive bars, but spending money preparing for the kid I’m currently incubating. Alternating between total fear, total selfishness and at times, pure joy. Total random segway, I know.. but quite frankly – I don’t care. I have to get it all out, since tonight, my mind’s everywhere.. running from thought to thought.. trying to not focus on what new reality is going to come. well.. never mind, I lost my stride by adding the disclaimer… I should of just kept up the stream of concious thought.. but now that I’ve justified it, reality snuck in trough the moment of social worry. I allowed the safe shell I had created verbally to lapse.. and now.. all I can say is if this world takes my mom away I will never, ever find my way back to faith. She successfully beat it once .. but I was 2 and she was 22. She had youth on her side….. she beat stage 4 hodkins.. then. Now it’s a different story. We don’t know what stage it’s in, we’re not sure if it’s hodkins again or not… we just know that her lungs are filled with fluid and there’s almost zero movement on the right lung. We don’t know if surgery will be needed, but we do know that she won’t survive it if she has to… her body isn’t that strong and the first round of surgery when I was a baby, left her with restricted lung capacity. We think chemo/ radiation will be the route, but don’t know what we’re up against. I have spent my life going back and forth with her, and the only reason why is cause we’re way too much alike.. and well, she was a fucking kid when she had me. She learned how to be a mom while going through the process of being a mom. When my life fell apart, she saved me. Not faith, not friends, not a fucking guy… she did … and I don’t know how to … be…. without her. I’d kill for a smoke and fucking cocktail.. but I’m pretty certain that it won’t bode well for the kid that’s a brewing. So.. I’ll…. just.. sit and.. process and pretty much feel the whole thing. I’m not all that strong though. Not about this. I’d much rather opt to be totally hammered and lacking class while I passed out… at least, for tonight, not thinking about this and the domino effect of emotional mayhem… my family is about to walk through. I’d say I’m sorry for the heaviness of this blog.. but I really don’t give a damn. Suck it up. Its life. It’s not all sexy poses and phone cam photo ops.

Be Sociable, Share!

•