January 2013


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  I am no stranger to feeling like a worthless piece of shit. It doesn’t matter how many people tell me I’m not, my brain refuses to accept it. I went to work while in high school. I continued working after. I realized, that with shitty high school grades, and no chance of a scholarship, college would not be happening for me. Then I got married to a wonderful woman with a son, and we had another one a few years later, so I have two sons. (I’m going to stop you here because I can hear your eyes rolling, “If you have kids, and treat them well, you aren’t worthless.”) Shut it, this its my tale to tell, and for once in my dammed life, I will be listened to. I’m tired of being cut off and not getting to tell my tale when speaking in person. So i tell it here. Don’t like it? There’s the door.
  So then eventually my wife threw me out. Boozing, abuse, cheating, drugs??? No. We were 27 and not living in a house yet… That was her fucking reason. So out the door I went with her foot in my ass.
  So, 27 with two kids to support and no education… I’m fucked. I never have enough food in the house, but since I’m still fat, no one believes me about that one. I have to borrow money for gas every week just to get to work, which is 36 miles away and over a mountain so i can’t really ride a bike there. (not that i have one to ride)
  Let’s get to today. My nieces bday party. My bro spends a lot of money on his daughter for her bdays. So we’re at a shindig that cost a lot. The kids had a great time. Then pizza. “Hey bear, want some?”
    “Na, I’m not hungry” translation: seeing the food makes me hungry enough, if i eat a piece, I’ll be starving.
  Next… cake, “Hey bear, want some?”
    “Na, I’m ok” same translation.
  Then came presents. Now my bro always gets gift bags for all the kids attending. This time however it was, “ok, who was this gift from dear? Ok, give them a gift bag” He knew i wouldn’t have a gift for her, considering i couldn’t even afford a gift for my son 21 days before. I felt humiliated, even tho they gave my boy a gift bag. (after everyone else had seen that we didn’t give a gift)
  So there i was, leaving with my sons hand in mine, duct tape holding my shoes together, feeling like an utter failure in life and my bro says, “hey, wanna go hiking tomorrow after the kids go to school?”
  My response, “I don’t fucking care bro. Whatever. I’ll text you or something. Take it easy.” I don’t know if I’m going to go. I really don’t fell like it at the moment.
  Now I’m sitting here, my son is eating his dinner, we are chatting. He had a great day, and for that I’m happy. It doesn’t matter how much i feel like a useless piece of shit, my son looks at me like I’m a hero. One day he will realize, I’m certainly no hero, just a dad, struggling in the world and trying his best to be a good father.
  I’m not looking for attention, recognition, or for anyone to click the like button on this one. I just needed to get this off my chest before I grow more sick of myself than i already am.
Goodnight

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The homeland burns as we drop the match.
A ball in the air that we’ll never catch.
Candy coated lies dipped in treason.
In a moment of fear we give away one more personal freedom.
The stage is set and we’re the pawns.
Giving up everything to get our freedom on.
Spoon fed milk from a poisoned teat.
While we work and work just so our kids can eat.
Caramel covered death by our own hand.
As we kill our minds and kill our land.
Locked away in this cage we’ve made.
But its okay as long as the masters get paid.

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The pathway worn by thousands of feet,
never ceases to amaze me.
So many people have walked here,
but the feeling of isolation remains.
I once walked this path with my father,
as I now walk it with my son.
Showing him the beauty of the world,
one path at a time.
I miss my father beyond what words can express,
but he lives on, in my heart, hands, and soul.
One day perhaps my son will walk here  with his child,
and fondly remember these times.

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There once was a man from San Jose,
Who hoped everything would be ok.
He called the mechanic a jerk,
and pretended to work,
until he could punch out for the day.

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Stuck at work,
duties I shirk,
slow as all hell,
boredom starts to swell,
don’t want to be here today,
rather be hiking, but it’s okay,
staring at my screen,
not wanting to clean,
no emails in the que,
nothing much to do,
the clock is moving slow,
there is one thing that I know,
after work I’ll get my son,
and this weekend, we’ll have fun.

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  I have a question. What is it that makes people think that they can make jokes at someones expense?! Especially when they barely know you.
  I’m at work, punching back in from lunch, when one of our mechanics is singing. The other mechanic makes a joke about him singing for me. (That i didn’t mind. It was funny) Then the singing mechanic says, “Ya, here ya go.”… Do you all know that song “All Star”? Well he starts dancing and sings, “hey now. You’re an all star. Get your weight on.” I guess he saw the anger in my face because he immediately started stuttering, “oh h h hey, man… Y y you know I’m just joking right?”
  Ok, i am still overweight, but he feels the need to point this out?! He’s a moron, but you don’t see me trying to hurt his feelings, or talking shit. I almost beat his ass, but the thought of losing my job kept me at bay. I said, “I bet you are” and slammed the door.
  Sometimes its hard for me to do that. I grew up fighting. I get pleasure from not only beating someone to a pulp, but also the shots that happen to get through to me. I have learned in life, that ignoring bullies does not make them stop, they only speak one language… The language of fisticuffs.
  He has tried to apologize a few times, and I’ve just laughed in his face. I’m pretty sure he’s afraid he’s gonna catch an asswhoopin… And I’m not doing or saying anything to let him think otherwise.
  Remember the saying, “one day he’s going to mouth off to the wrong guy”? Well, normally I’m that guy. But not today.

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  I am the father of two wonderful children. My oldest is 16 so right about now, I’m more of an irritating factor in his life. I remember being there, wanting to do anything, but hang out with my dad. My youngest just turned 8 today. He’s a little ball of energy, that never fails to impress me with his wit and intelligence. He is so much like my father and myself that it scares me.
  I get my kids on the weekends, and the ex wife has them during the week. So I decided to stop by this morning before work, and tell him happy birthday.
  As I walked in, his eyes lit up. He wasn’t expecting to see me until Sunday, as he is having a sleepover with his best friend on Saturday. I told him happy birthday, and that I loved him. I also gave him a really big bearhug…
  That’s when my emotions started to get the better of me.  Most of you who follow my blog know that I’m pretty poor. I write everything on my phone because I have no computer or internet. I live in a dilapidated old mobile home with leaks in the roof, and no heat. Sometimes you can see your breath inside my house. Thankfully a dear friend recently sent me a blanket she made for me, and it is the warmest blanket ever. (Thank you my dear. You really are my best friend)
  Well, being that I struggle financially, (i use that phrase loosely) it probably comes as no surprise that I also had to look my kid in the eyes and tell him that I don’t have a gift for him… Do you know how hard that is to do?! How much it breaks your spirit, to tell your own child that you are too poor to get them a gift?! Most of us understand that gifts aren’t that important. But did we understand that at 8? He does… Like I said, he never ceases to amaze me.
  I look at him, and pray with all my heart and soul, that he never has to feel the feelings of worthlessness and self doubt that I do. I know he will look back and say, “I remember when my father was too poor to get me a gift for my birthday… But no matter what, he was always there for me.” Just like I remember my late father with fondness.
  As he grows, we will certainly argue, disagree, and fight at times… But I will always love him. And he has given me the greatest gift of all. His love.