Archive for the ‘Hopeless’ Category


Posted: 2016-04-19 in Blick!, Hopeless

When did you realize it was over?

Probably when I realized that, in my internal dialog, I referred to my neighbors as cunts.


And so,

you spend minutes (literally minutes!) cleaning your nose,

trying to clear the nasal passageways, so you can breathe.

Contaminants clutter and clog – some come from within, most come from without. Sticky, loathsome contaminants. Persistent opposition. Sometimes dry, it crumbles. Generally, though, shit sticks. And often your nose, irritated, bleeds.

You use a tissue, a kleenex, you use a cotton bud.

You blow, wipe and prod.

You never use your finger or blow onto the ground (you’re civilized after all).

No, you’re hidebound,

by the evolutionary perfection of the human body and the imperfection of this world.

No sooner do you get your nose clean then it’s dirty and clogged again and the whole ridiculous process repeats itself.

You’re suffocating.

And life goes on.

The man-child, such as he can put together a string of thoughts, begins to realize that the older he gets the more attracted he is to younger women. At some point the women become girls (but really, society agrees, that definition is blurry…).

It’s got something to do with touching what he has lost, trying to regain what he never truly had.

Pity him and loathe him. Sneer at him and respect him. After all, the man-child is coaching your children’s team. … And sometimes he is in fact a woman, and sometimes she is your wife, and sometimes it is your children who do the abusing, and sometimes you really need to shut your eyes because life needs to be something else, to cope. Sigh, to hope.

Hope unites us as people under God.

Yes, hope.

Hope, isn’t that what the man-child is doing? Hoping he can “get some”!


And abuse.


It’s been a long day, a long week, long month, year, decade, century…


It’s been a long life,

it feels like I’ve been alive forever,

constant drudgery, pain, frustration, betrayal, compromise,

and I feel fucking tired.

All I want to do is pleasure myself and sleep,

curl up into the fetal position and embrace nothingness,

in a totally dark room, sensory-deprivational bliss.

It’s been a long day in a long life

and yet, I ask myself, have I actually lived?


Sunshine, wonderful!

Everyone loves sunshine, right?

Sunshine, bright, kids play, adults smile, lines crease their aging faces.

Sunshine bright exposes flaws – see the cracks in the wall (they used to be hidden by darkness!)…

Sunshine dries and punctures everything,

in time, your prized possessions gone.

Sunshine bleaches and fades your cherished memories,

photos in frames turned sepia pallid, then bone, then gone.

Sunshine, we worship you,

we lie on the beach and enjoy the warmth (Oh, yes, and it can lead to skin cancer too).

Sunshine, wonderful?

Forecast, we think, for good.

I tried.


I tried.


Things fell apart.


I tired.


I tried some more.


People lied.


Loved ones and dreams died.


Days turned to months and years.


Life became a misery.


I tired.


I cried.


I tried.

Biological imperative,

procreate or perish,

the idea, the urge, to continue something that shouldn’t have started.

This world of pain and suffering – you really want to inflict that on your kid?

Syria, Iraq, Ethiopia, Detroit,

the situations didn’t appear overnight, no surprise,

and yet you still chose to bring new life into the cauldron of misery.


Biological imperative, biological weapon.

Populate or perish.

Maintain yours, ultimately to kill another.

Well, at least I have my memories.


Uh, except the government confiscated my computer and hard drives.

They locked me up and threw away the keys.

And now I’m in sensory deprivation, a blackened room,

crazy thoughts, immediacy, filling my head.

So, no, actually, I don’t have any memory left.

While this land floods, yet again, that land is parched, time after time.

Wasted potential.

What commonality can we claim?

We are both human,

life is unfair,

society and nature are unfair.

We struggle.

What else do we share?

What else do we need?

If you’re anything like me, when you’re sick, you like to be left alone. ALONE.