Monday, May 11, 2015


Have you ever danced with devil, well slept with him? Sure it was epic pleasure. But you knew that just as fast and as furious as the fire started that the ending might be equally tragic. So you walk away. He calls you every bad name in the book and even wishes cancer upon you... But you never stop thinking about him. 

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Glass House

Nobody likes moving, but I have never had the experience of being in a house that is for sale. It is a strange feeling for sure. All of your belongings and personality must be removed from your living space so that the potential buyer can see your soace as theirs. I get it, my greek wrestling painting may offend some, just tell yourself they are playing leapfrog. This morning I was late for work because I couldn't find where I hid my toothbrush and deodorant. This house needs to go under contract so I can put my beanbag back in the living room an stop making the bed. ��

Tuesday, April 7, 2015


I rarely think before acting. I mean, I think about the potential bennefits but I never really dwell on the potential negative. It gives the freedom of new expierience and perspective, but it also makes me wholy unstable. Entertaining but constantly in Flux.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Hitchhiker's Guide

Everytime I taste chocolate milk it reminds me of spring day in my teenage years. The day Gary Lynn threw chocolate milk at my car for not picking him up hitchhicking. Gary was one of local characters, a well loved schizophrenic that meant no actual harm.  He lived with his parents until he passed in his early forties. Gary made money by roaming the Island trimming trees, but he didn't have a car. So Gary would hitchhike around the island with his chainsaw or ax.  Besides being woefully intimidating looking, the truth is I never stopped to pick him up for fear he might get chainsaw oil on my oarnge crushed velour seats.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Weird Science

I have come to believe that each of us is an Atom. We being the nucleus and our family (chosen or blood) are the protons that make up our core. Circling the core are the electrons (friends) in multiple rings. Those electrons are drawn towards us for some reson unknown to us but for a purpose. When this nee electron is drawn toward us we and them are changed. Sometimes it brings stabilty and a positive metamorphosis. Othertimes it displaces or we shed an electron, also changing what we are. 
It doesn't always feel like a positive change, nor is it necessarily permanent. 

Sunday, February 15, 2015


While perusing through untouched phone apps I stumbled across my blogger app and realized i had a saved draft from over a year ago I had never published. I released it out into the blogger sphere with all of it's irrelevance intact. 
Janet is long gone, another mistress of the orient has came and left and I am back behind the wheel of Korea in the guise of a white Soul. It is my second, the first I dumped because it represented a larger failure or lesson that needed to be learned and after the dust settled I missed it. Enter "Amanda" she is everything I loved about the first Soul sans all the annoying bits. 

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Captain of my own ship/Captain my Captain

I've been reminded that I don't blog enough and I thought I should explain. I am my own worst critic to nobody's surprise. I am worried that the words meant to encourage me to be a better writer will just cut and burn instead of inspire. Luckily if there was going to be a casting of a TV show based on my circle, my friends would be playing the hornless roles while I would have the pitchfork.

 I think that girl in Peyton place said it best(the original movie, none of the shenanigans that followed)... I don't go to school for writing because I already know how to write". I write in a stream of consciousness, And I appreciate the same when I read. Maybe that is why I have read miles more of wiring diagrams than sentences in novels. I dont like the rules. This is my journey to take you on good or bad, so sit right back and ill tell you a tale.

Through a chain of events that I interpret to be very positive, I have found myself back at the helm of an American Rear wheel drive V8. Most will mock me for being "old" and make jokes of casino runs and handicap parking. But there is a reason why other than the affordmentioned. These cars stir my soul. Not to be confused with a previous Korean car that shall remain nameless. I connect with them. Only one other form of transportation does this and it requires lots of water and deep pockets.

Around town parking is a slight nuisance, the gas station is more of an event than a pit stop sometimes, but it is worth it. When you find the interstate and let this creature roam it embraces you with solitude. it shields you from all the white noise of the world. It is that broken in leather sofa that greets you after a long day and wraps its itself around you like a mother should. Driving through the Utah desert and having the rd rock and blue sky's reflection wash over the hood and reflected into you. All I can hear is the faint symphony of machine verses the pavement and the whispers of the plastic and leather having a tug o war in the background.

I have sampled the wears of from around the globe, and each one has its own character. Some are all machine with no soul that tirelessly serve, making no imprint on their pilot. Others are all personality and devoid of a work ethic, battling you every time you call on them. This friend I see in my life for longer than I saw the rest. I see her as gift to cherish. Maybe I'll give her a name...