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How I came to fall for a jellyfish

Signal Fire-Snow Patrol

I was on tumblr for less than two weeks when I found her blog by searching tags for a word I still hate to say aloud. I read her story and was taken aback by the dignity, poise and utter fucking bravery with which she tackled the subject. I submitted a piece which spoke a little of my experience and she posted it shortly thereafter. She even wrote an extra P.S. which ended with, "just imagine I'm holding you real tight, yeah?"

I'm almost embarrassed to admit this, but instantly I was smitten.

I followed it along with her personal blog and every time her face graced my dashboard the infatuation dug in a little bit deeper. At the time I was wrapped up in an exceedingly unhealthy relationship, so I just creepily admired her from afar. Thankfully, before long it ended and almost immediately after I struck up another courtship which, while short lived, was nowhere near as tragic.

It was about this time I discovered she had started seeing a guy and, while I was happy for her, I couldn't help but fill a bitter sting of jealousy. A few months later I was perusing her blog only to discover it had ended with him. I'd wanted to try and contact her, offer some sort of commiseration, but I didn't think it seemed right. I barely knew her and didn't want to seem like I was just trying to capitalize on her vulnerability.

A few weeks ago things got bad for me and my blog was filled with morose pieces. It was during this time she sent a message asking if everything was alright. I was not in a very positive place, so I opted not to respond because I didn't want to bitch about my problems or let the girl I'd been crushing on for so long to see me at my worst. Soon after I was on a plane back for Texas in order to try and get myself right.

So it goes.

The next week and change was spent seeing family and dealing with this through intense writing sessions. Last Saturday after I'd gotten back from volunteering at the nursing home I sat down with my mic and recorded a piece I'd been planning for almost a year. Once it was posted I felt revitalized in a way only creating some truly worthwhile can bring.  Bolstered by this sudden onset of confidence I decided to finally respond to her message.  We talked longer than we had before, but tumblr's mail system is frustrating and took our conversation to gchat.  I was up for over forty hours by the time we sent our hellos, but I'd have been damned if I was going to let something like sleep deprivation keep me from getting to know this lovely young woman.

The conversation came easy and went from light to more serious affairs.  She told me about immigrating to the US as well as her childhood, all the while I hung on every word.  I then went into details about my life I don't offer so readily through conversations.  Then the amazing happened; she listened and understood.  Toward the end things got flirtatious, but I tried to keep my cool and not take it too seriously.  When we said goodnight I was left with a smile and sleep came easily.

After I awoke and waited the time necessary to not come off quite as anxious to talk to her as was the case; I signed on, said hello and conversation picked right back up where we left off.  Over the next several hours we spoke about relationships, family, dreams, passion, religion and everything in between.  I again showed more courage than I thought myself capable of and gave her my number.

She called it instantly.

The sound of her voice caused my breath to catch in my throat and I still haven't gotten it back.  The conversation lasted eight hours and I was astonished by just how wonderful this woman is.  She was patient and I spoke and always kept me laughing.  I'd admitted to the long standing crush I'd had on her and in a surprising turn of events she reciprocated.  Towards the end of the night the conversation took a turn towards the hot and heavy, but she stopped it so as to not rush things too much.  I understood, told her as much and didn't bring it up again.  It finally reached the point where she could no longer fight back the sleep which weighed heavy on her lids and had to retire.  I layed in bed with my mind reeling with every word spoken between us and sleep did not call me as it did her.

It was before the sun rose when she called me and recanted the withdrawal she'd made the night before and the which passed her lips lit this fire within I'd thought had long been snuffed out.  The breathiness of her vocables, mixed with the moans and the exuberance with which she came formed the sweetest symphony I'd ever heard. 

The next several days were filled with more conversations, revelations and early morning passions.  I've gotten to know her in more ways than I'd ever dreamed possible and I like everything I see.  She's not perfect, but it's becoming apparent the flaws either mirror my own, or compliment them in some strange fashion.  She claims she's a hot mess, I maintain she's only half right.  I've spent my dating life trying to find what it is I was in a partner.  At most they'd have two or three qualities and the negatives never outweighed them.  She's different.  All the important checks have been marked and the cons never even come close to making me look twice.


I can even pin point the exact moment where I fell into another four letter word which I know I shouldn't bring myself to say and it really doesn't matter, because it wouldn't convey the true depths of it anyway. It was during one of our late night phone sessions and I just sat in relative silence as she shared her writings with me. Then, one particularly heartbreaking one past through the headset and that was all it took. It also didn't hurt that the talent with which she told it made me feel like an amateur by comparison.

It's not, however, easy at times; what with the distance and no idea how to close it with the current situation in which I find myself.  Sometimes after we hang up for the night I'll find myself  riddled with the doubts which tell me there's no way someone so beautiful, amazing, funny, sweet and smart will ever find anything in me worth sticking it out for, but I'm tired of listening to that voice.  I've learned by now it doesn't have my best intentions at heart.

And now I'm sitting here while talking with her on gchat.  I'm not sure what the future is going to hold and at times this does make me feel uneasy.  However, I'm tired of doubts holding me back from trying to go after things I want in this life.  And I want to see where this takes me, no matter where the road may lead.  I'm in.

So it goes.

Anything for you-Ludo

Carry the stone

 

I enter the bar and uncerimoniuosly take my usual booth. To call this place a dive would suggest it had some sort of charm which keeps bringing me here day after day. It doesn’t.

The tables are all coated so thick with grease that if you were to run your finger across their surface you’d pull it back black. It’s been decades since the windows had glass in their frames. They’re boarded up so tight that, even though it’s just before noon, they let in no sunlight. The other patrons plant themselves in stools held together with duct tape and a prayer. When they do get up and move around the air is so thick with dust and smoke it’s more akin to walking through mud than an open room. The jukebox is broken and only plays Hey You by Pink Floyd, but no one ever has the energy to walk over and unplug the damn thing.

Yes, there are other places for us to go; ones filled with celebrations, laughter and long anticipated reunions. Sometimes a particular crowd will get so loud their jovial songs are able to permeate these molding walls. But, no, those aren’t the types of environments for people like me. You could say it’s this bar’s utter desolation which beckons me.

After a few minutes the waitress walks over, sets my drink before me and slinks away without a word. I chug it down with purpose and return it to the table empty. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and look at my fellow patrons. Occasionally you’ll have a guy or one of the more adventurous parties pop in for awhile, but it doesn’t take them long to realize they don’t belong here; not like us regulars. We’re all of us looking for something. You can tell by our constant glances at the door; searching for an arrival which never shows. For as long as I’ve been coming here none of us have uttered a single word; more content to try and drown away our demons in silence.

The waitress brings my second round and, as always, I try with futility to get drunk. The drinks must be more water than ale, because every day I hammer them back from open to close and never achieve so much as a buzz. But I keep trying, because anymore it’s all I know how to do.

Hours pass, though time really is just as meaningless as the alcohol I consume. One of the gentleman at the bar begins to wail loudly and I busy myself with my newly filled glass. The bell above the entrance chimes and after forty long years my wait is over.

There she is standing in the doorway.

Her eyes scan the crowd and when they meet mine she gasps with enough force to cause the dust to dance around her. Her smile causes my eyes to leak and, suddenly, she’s sitting across from me.

“I…” her voice breaks. She looks away and takes a deep breath and begins chewing on her thumbnail. After several moments she clasps her hands on the table in front of her and returns her gaze to me before trying again. “I was hoping I might find you here.”

“Yeah…I figured I’d have ended up in the really bad one too.” She nods and blinks away a tear. “My God, you’re so beautiful.” is the only thing I can bring myself to say.

“Really? I’d asked them to make me look like you’d remember.” She says through the sheepish smile which makes me melt every time.

“Not that I’m not ecstatic to see you, but why are you here?” I ask.

“Isn’t it obvious? I was looking for you.”

“But why? I figured you moved on a long time ago.”

“I got married. Had two kids.” I’m unable to hide a pained expression at the last revelation. “I lived a long life, though that wasn’t something one can simply move on from.”

I nod before saying, “Tell me about your kids.”

“They’re wonderful.” She beams. “A boy and a girl. He became a pharmicist and she teaches fifth grade. They even blessed me with the most amazing grandchildren.”

“And your husband? Did he treat you right?”

“Yes. He was a good, kind man. We were happy.”

“That’s great.” I tell her with as much sincerity as I can muster. “I’m so very happy for you.” Then I look down at my hands. She reaches over and takes them in hers. After a beat she turns them over so my palms face the ceiling and begins to stroke my wrists. “I’m so sorry.” This is when I break.

“Shh…, it’s okay, baby.” She tells me as she places her right hand under my chin and lifts it until my eyes meet hers. She swallows hard before saying, “I was upset with you for a long time. Then I was just so angry.”

“I understand.” I tell her and try to look away, but she grabs me and pulls me back.

“You owe me this.”

I nod and don’t avert my eyes again.

“I know now it didn’t have anything to do with me, but it fucked me up for a long time. No matter who I was with, even my husband, I still thought about you and wondered ‘what if’. We never even got a chance and I felt cheated. I couldn’t believe you just…” This time it’s her eyes which wander and they stop at the open wounds running up my wrists.

I get up and sit down in the booth beside her. For the first time ever I take her in my arms and hold her tight. We weep together until neither of us have any tears left.

“How did you…” I start to ask as I hand her a napkin.

“Cancer.” She takes it and wipes her eyes. “I battled it for two years until one night I went to sleep and was just gone.”

“I’m glad it was peaceful and you’re not hurting anymore.” I tell her.

“You’re still the same.” She says as she touches my cheek another time. “I came here to tell you two things. One: I forgive you.” She leans in and presses her lips against mine, filling my body with a warmth I’ve been lacking since I first came to this place. She breaks the kiss and leans in closer until she’s right against my ear and whispers, “Two: I’ve got a room nearby and we have so much catching up to do.”

We don’t say another word as we exit the booth and make our way to the exit. As I open the door and hold it for her I notice the cuts which once marred my wrists and forearms have vanished without so much as a scar. Before I cross the threshold I glance back at the regulars. I hope some day soon this door opens for them to find their angel which will lead them out of the Purgatorio and grant them peace.

Listen to Jay Sherman

My time in Hell and other whimsical tales
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Davlin/Brand New Mash Up

You may have noticed many of my works feature their own soundtrack.  I've created audio for Maudlin intercut with Noro by Brand New.  It's a good representation of how it all sounds in my head while I'm writing it all out.  Since Blogger won't allow me to place the track here, follow this link to check it out.  It's pretty damned impressive if I do say so myself.

A sum greater than its parts.

I gently set down the baggage I’ve been carrying longer than I care to admit and finally allow my aching muscles a chance to rest.

My fingers no longer shake as I enter the combination and open the clasps.  It’s time to dispose of the items within, never again to be dwelt upon.

The first objects to be removed are the faces of the people who, for whatever reason, are no longer around.  I smile as I see their faces, which comes from the realization that I’ve forgotten how to miss them. In fact, I no longer even seek new companionship I once found in the company of those familiar strangers.

Then its time to let go of the self pity and depression.  They never served me well anyway and the seeping wounds from where their nails dug in deep are in desperate need of healing.

These are followed by my aspirations of fame, fortune and recognition.  I’ve spent long enough chasing after this ignis fatuus and always agonized at how it remained just out of reach.  I’m also discarding this obsessive need of working tirelessly for a steady paycheck instilled since birth; a fate I’ve always found to be much worse than death.

Finally, I relinquish all the other wants, desires and personal tragedies which had come to define me in the worse possible way.

I gather the pile into my arms and carry them into the field behind my mother’s house in a journey lit by nothing but the stars above.  After arranging them in a clearing, I pull out a cigarette and place it to my lips.  A brilliant flash of gold erupts from my lighter and I spark up the addiction I’ve never been able to shake.  After a few puffs I throw it on the pyre, reducing everything I once was to nothing more than ashes.

Well, save for one item; the only thing I now seek.

A conclusion to the story; even if it’s nothing more than a period following some unfinished sentiment.

People tend to rationalize my insomnia because they're fortunate enough to have never seen the evil which lurks within the darkness.

I know they’re going to want to have the conversation soon; it’s inevitable.
“Have you talked to any doctors?”
“What are you planning on doing?”
“You can’t stay here.”
And I don’t know how to be honest with them, honest with myself.  I’m well aware this is borrowed time and I’ve never been very good at paying off debts.

Anathema: A multi-media novella Part IV

Shimmer-Fuel

By the time I arrived in SC I was exhausted, starving and anxious.  Jackie was thirty minutes late picking me up and I was dying for a cigarette, but had to fight the temptation because it was something she hated.  It all comes back to patterns, right?  After a quick lunch she took me to Jonathan’s where I showered and waited for her to come back.  Did I mention she was married, which would make pursuing any kind of healthy relationship damn near impossible?



But I stuck it out and for the first week or so things were going great, though it was not something we could keep up for much longer.  I started to apply for all the retail jobs I could walk to and tried my best to remain optimistic about the whole process.  She slowly started cancelling plans, and when she didn’t they ended up making me miserable, anyways.  The beauty of being wrapped up in the Hell of dating a selfish, borderline sociopathic woman is that it kept my mind off of you; at least until late one night I read your blog.  Reading everything you’ve been through made me hate myself for not being at your side when you needed it the most.  Then, I was taken aback by the things you said about me and responded with an assault of my own.

Keep yourself warm-Frightened Rabbit



Before too long I started working at Wal-Mart, which quickly became the worst job I’ve ever had.  This, mixed with sleeping on a couch and dealing with Jackie’s increasingly neurotic bullshit meant I was desperately searching for anything positive to take my mind of things and I was fortunate to come across two.  The first started with an anonymous comment from someone on Tumblr.  After corresponding with this person like this for awhile, she eventually introduced herself.  Micky became the dear friend I desperately needed.  The second was when I hooked back up with some old friends.  Larry, Kat and I started Group Therapy, giving each of us an artistic outlet.



Things with Jackie, at least when I saw her, became increasingly worse and it was becoming more than I could take.  I began talking with Micky more and more frequently and she helped me find the strength I needed in order to do what I’d been wanting for awhile at that point.  Released from her baggage, Micky and I started revealing the feelings for each other which had started to blossom.  Immediately, we plunged into a full fledged long distance relationship.  This was the beginning of the best times I’ve had since I left your side.



Topeka-Ludo

After a month of intense conversations, Micky finally came for a visit and it was the beginning of the end.  She picked me up from work and, after a shower, we headed to a Group Therapy session.  This was the night when I realized my friends weren’t who I thought they were and started losing interest in what we’d been working on.  The next day her and I checked into a hotel room and spent the next two days ignoring the world outside its walls.  While there I could tell she had bitten off more than she could chew by pursuing me and didn’t have it in her to keep going.  She proved this by breaking up with me on her drive back home.  And so, I spiraled back into depression.



For a variety of reasons, I started hating hanging out with Larry and Kat.  This mixed with a feeling of hopelessness concerning my craft led to my decision to retire from writing.  I then filmed my final performance and haven’t been back since.

I’d also put in my two weeks notice to Wal-Mart and started making plans to do something different.  A week later I had a nervous breakdown and walked.

I’ve spent the month and change sinking deeper into despair and wanting to act upon my darker impulses.  I discovered that when my mind wasn’t preoccupied with other things, it would always bring its focus back to you.  I then found I still had much more to say.

Justify-The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus



But I couldn’t manage anything more than a piece or two dedicated to you.  I was sitting on the back porch one day with a lighter and some of my handwritten pieces.  The words scrawled upon the pages proved painful and I sought out to destroy them.  However, it instead sparked my imagination and I started writing my final book, which is drawing close to its completion.



I was working on it last week when I’d started the pages dedicated to you lacking the materials I’d needed to complete them.  This is when I started torturing myself with emails and photos we’d exchanged.  Before long I came to the last words, which were laced with venom and have haunted me ever since.  And, just like that, I shed the last tears I’d ever cry for you and collected them onto the pages.

Hard to say-The Used



Which brings us to the now.  Today is September 27 and three hours ago was exactly a year since the last time I’d seen your face.  I wish I could be strong about this and tell you I’ve gotten over you, even slightly, though lying is what got me into this mess to begin with.  I miss you and think about you ever day.  In less than a week I’ll be back in Texas with all it implies.  I didn’t want any of this and I hope more than anything you’re happy and, if not that, then at least okay.  And I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have never stopped loving you.  But now I can’t allow myself to keep going back to the “what ifs” or “could have beens”.  It’s just too painful.  I need to let you go, because where I’m headed is not a place I would like you to see.  I’ve already hurt you enough as it is.

Goodbye Ana.



Brothers on a hotel bed-Deathcab for Cutie

Fin.

Anathema: A multi-media novella Part III

The Diary-Hollywood Undead

The suicide scare put me at odds with my mom and step dad, so I started making plans to stay with someone else.  On my last night there I took a package of note cards and started on a complete rewrite of Scattered Thoughts.  I packed up all the belongings I deemed crucial to my artistic success and left for my aunt’s before mom or Jeff got home.  I stayed with her for two days and on the second one, I completed the newly titled My time in Hell and other whimsical tales.



Mom was putting pressure on me to get myself checked back into the hospital, but the fact was finishing the book was the best therapy I could have gotten.  The next day I moved in with my cousin, Christy and stayed in the room I grew up in, along with a whole new set of triggers.  You haunted my every thought and each time I closed my eyes there you were to make sleep impossible.  To make matters worse, everyone I’d left behind six months prior were not shy about letting me know just how angry with me they were.

To get out of the house I’d hit up a Starbucks nearby and started the task of sending out query letters in the hopes some agent would take me on and finally get me published.  They didn’t.

But I wouldn’t be discouraged and started brainstorming how to go about writing the next chapter.  For the better part of a year I’d planned a book dedicated to you and the life we were going to build together, though now it didn’t seem appropriate.  Inspiration finally struck when I was smoking out with an old co-worker.



While in Tennessee I came up with this idea to do a horror story dealing with the supernatural and which was handwritten in a journal.  The plan was to use some of my own stories as the foundation on which I’d build the narrative.  Instead, I merged it with the story of us and I’ve no reason to dream… became what it is today.  After a week of locking myself into that room and working constantly; it was finished.  That’s when I bought a new journal and started all over again.

Jump on my shoulders-Awolnation

Something I don’t talk much about is that during this time I was locked in battle with things most people wouldn’t believe.  There was something after me and it fought fucking dirty.  The closer I became to finishing the book; the angrier The Beast would get and my mental state was growing increasingly unstable.



Mom got me a job in the kitchen of the nursing home where she works and I began an ill advised romantic relationship; though the latter dissolved as abruptly as it had started.  I also found out from a mutual friend just how much you came to Hate me; even going so far as to demand my name not be said while in your presence.  It hurt more than I was prepared for and I spiraled further into self destruction.

In January of this year my car was repossessed and I became even more isolated as a result. I took all the anger, frustration and depression and pored them out onto the page.  Before I knew it, my work was finished and the demon defeated.  I had somehow managed to exorcise it and now it remains trapped within the tome.  In truth, I don’t like to touch it unless absolutely necessary.

This is when things turned around as much as I’d be allowed.  I self published My time in Hell…, though it was met with minimal interest.  An old flame from my past came back and as we talked I let myself believe my feelings were stronger than they were in order to get over you.  My cousin and I got into a massive fight which all but left me homeless.  So, exactly a year after moving to be with you, I hopped on a bus to South Carolina to see where this next romantic endeavor would lead.  The one thought I couldn’t shake on the 25 hour ride was that it was cheapening everything I did so we could be together.

Between you and I-Every Avenue

Anathema: A multi-media novella Part II

Hands open-Snow Patrol



The afterglow of being together started to fade quickly when the reality of our actions set in. Financial woes, my vices and you not being completely ready for a full time commitment lead to an argument which never actually ended.

Over the next six months our bond degenerated rapidly. I know you’d tell people I broke your trust and I can’t deny this. However, I endured more callous actions from you on a daily basis than you did during our entire relationship, but I shouldered the infractions because I felt what we had was worthwhile. The truth is you pushed me away from the instant I moved there and didn’t have the guts to be honest with me about your feelings in anything other than shouting or passive aggressive comments. So, I allowed you to play the victim.



You ended it on an anniversary which said more than you ever could with those insults and accusations. After I’d already quit my job and prepared for the trek back to Texas, you convinced me to go with you to South Carolina for the worst trip of my life. Three days after we got back communication broke down even further and we eventually said our goodbyes, after which I climbed into my car and retreated to my mother’s house.



Rusted from the rain-Billy Talent

For the next several weeks I languished in that upstairs bedroom. Finally, it became too much to bear and I wanted to die almost as much as I still longed to be with you. Around this time mom’s house was broken into and I lost almost every material possession I held dear.


As I sifted through the remnants of my life I came across the writing supplies I had bought on a trip with you to Wal-Mart. Desperate for solace; I picked up a pen, put it to paper and began the healing process.

Garden Statement-Hidden in Plain View

Anathema: A multi-media novella Part I

It’s been almost a year since the last time I shared your bed. I remember laying on my side; both of us exhausted of accusations from the two week argument and just watching your face. I tattooed every detail onto my memory. I remember thinking, “this is the last time I’m going to see the love of my life.” Again, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back…

The dolphin’s cry-Live

We met through mutual friends on Myspace and, though we’d never met face to face, you remained my absolute favorite person. I’d always loved you from afar. We were always seeing someone else and when we weren’t, we were absolutely fucked from when life took its toll. I got herpes; you had your own sacred scar. Even though we’d go for months without speaking, we could sense when the other was suffering and pick them up when no one else seemed to give a damn.

I began to experience professional and artistic successes. Life finally seemed to fall into place. But I didn’t have what I truly desired. I didn’t have you. Finally, I made the most terrifying proclamation of my life.

Inevitable-Anberlin


To my astonishment, you reciprocated. I got to see the side of you I’d longed for ever since we’d met four years prior. Around this time I was also accepted into a film school. We began to plan our relationship around this; giving us each the time we’d needed in order to attain the strength needed in order to make something this important work. Then it fell through after I’d already quit and decided to move in with you right off the bat. Mom encouraged me to visit you before I did anything too rash. The next morning I was on my way to Tennessee.

Sunsets and car crashes-The Spill Canvas


It was the absolute best week of my life, but it wasn’t meant to last.

Back Home (READER DISCRETION ADVISED)

It took selling almost all my possessions and left a lot of business unfinished, but I made my way and took my rightful place at your side. Unfortunately I managed to smuggle all my baggage and flaws along with me, which slowly tore down everything we’d worked so hard to build.

It’s not a bad little war-Bayside

Samples from my final work.

I think what it all boils down to is a matter of wanting to shed this skin so I can become the man I was meant to be.

Lately I’ve gotten into the habit of taking long walks at night by myself.  I just block out the world around me and let the music do the talking.

I’m also scared of what I’ll see when I do finally doze off.  The dreams have become intense and often follow me into the waking world.

Blistered feet make every step an act of penance. 

I wanted to make art.  Something dirty, honest and fearless.  I wanted my work to have depth and texture.

If I could do this full time I would have no complaints, but I can’t because it is unable to bring any money in  Our society isn’t made for free thinking artistic types.

A vast majority of the people I’ve known have told me they don’t like to be around me because I’m a downer.  Here’s the thing; while they get to walk away…I’m fucking stuck with myself.

When most people think of art their minds probably conjure images of paint splashed upon canvas.  I’m much more interested in experimenting with ink and the written word carved into loose leaf.

I didn’t want to merely sever the ties which are keeping me here; I wanted to reduce them to ashes and cinder.

Reading my work after it’s been typed loses almost all of its emotional resonance for me.  The cold, soulless fonts, mixed with going by my middle name allow me to disconnect with the material almost entirely.  This is not the case if it’s still written in my script.  Each word maintains its weight and power.

End of Act III

After almost a year's absence...

www.bledoutontoapage.com is back.

This is one of the best things I've ever done and the more work you put into it, the more you'll get out.

So, check it.

In the last 28 days we have spent 6581 minutes or 110 hours or 4 and a half straight days on the phone. In addition to over 7000 text messages.

Stream of conciousness 2: Somewhat of a vagabond

I reach for my box of Marlboro Gold 100s to find them empty, so I prepare myself for the one hour trek to a gas station to pick up some more.  My MP3 player is dead meaning I’ll have to rely on my thoughts and the environment for a soundtrack, which can get pretty nasty at times.  I throw on my Venom hoody which is still damp from when I washed it earlier and walk out the door.  My busted sneakers lead me past the cookie cutter homes which make up the neighborhood, past the pond and near the wooded area which will soon be replaced with the overwhelming blandness of small town America.

This is when my thought process kicks in.

I tend to live my life somewhat as a vagabond.  Just a month ago I made the third cross country relocation in the span of only a year.  The story for the first and second can be found here, with the third taking place here.  I actually do this pretty regularly.  I’ve never mastered the art of making a relationship, either romantic or platonic, last more than six months and it makes it much easier to sever all ties and abandon ship.  The only problem is that the social and economic consequences get heftier each time.

As a matter of fact, the only things I was able to bring with me during this move was a duffel bag full of clothes and toiletries, my netbook, Kindle, MP3 player and the flashdrive and journal which make up I’ve no reason to dream… I end up having to do a lot of laundry because I only brought enough clothes to last me about a week.  Money is dangerously low.

As I’m walking and letting my mind wander I get sporadic text messages from her and they intensify the lonely feeling which has lingered with me over the last several days.  My brain keeps trying to ask questions I don’t want to find the answers for so I do my best to ignore it.

I don’t have a car so the only jobs I’ve been able to apply for are the various retail outlets within walking distance from the house.  I’m almost 27 years old and I really thought I was beyond doing this kind of stuff by now.  I’m not saying I’m too good for this kind of employment; I just want more for myself.  It’s difficult once you find where your heart is and the thing you are most passionate about; only to discover it’s damn near impossible to make a living off of.  I’d self published My time in Hell… as an e-book almost three months ago and so far have sold a whopping 7 copies.  Don’t get me wrong I’m thankful for each and every one of them and I wasn’t expecting to make thousands of dollars, but I don’t know…it’s a little disheartening.

Back at the house I sit outside and smoke a cigarette as I let all the thoughts I’ve shaken up settle back down and fall into place.  I haven’t been writing much as of late and find it a difficult muscle to stretch once it’s started to atrophy, so I’ll leave you with this…

I have to believe everything that’s been happening is leading me somewhere and just need to be patient until I finally arrive.

Refresh

Can't tell me nothing-Kanye West

On the second entry of this blog I stated that I would neither take back or apologize for anything I write.  When it comes to my blogs and serious works, this remains true.  This month alone I've written some harsh and, let's be honest, borderline reckless pieces.  While the sentiments expressed in some of my words might not be the same ones I have today, I stand by everyone of them.  And there they shall remain.

Boulevard of broken dreams-Green Day

The last eighteen months have been an absolute roller coaster and I'm still trying to process it all.  I'm hesitant to talk about it much because it's the very basis for my second book, I've no reason to dream..., and I'd rather you find out about it in the way I've intended.  This is the project I want to share with the world and I can't do that unless my first book, My time in Hell and other whimsical tales, is a success.  The story I've crafted is nothing short of astonishing and I'm scared no one is going to be able to see what I've done.  If you want an idea of what's been going on, this is all I'll give you.

Jump on my shoulders-Awolnation

Love will,
make you crazy.
Its loss,
drives you insane.

Your first look at my brilliant, but yet to be published novel, "I've no reason to dream..."

I fucking knew it!

I write like
Chuck Palahniuk

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Always too brief.

"God, you're beautiful."  I tell her and her mouth cracks the tiniest hint of a smile.

"You're silly."  She responds in the manner which always lets me know she won't allow my words to sink in.

It's a never ending battle; me trying to build up her confidence while she continues to tear herself down.  I guess some old habits die harder than others.

"I talked to Steve a little about you today." She says in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"What'd he say?"

"He asked me if you were really what I wanted.  He told me that once this divorce is final and we're together he was afraid you wouldn't be able to support me or our son.  That if your book doesn't take off, though he hopes it does, I'll be the breadwinner.  He wanted to make sure I was prepared for that."

"Well..." I hesitate because her husband's concerns mirror back some of the ones I've had myself.  "those are some valid points."  After another several beats.  "Does that bother you?"

"No."  She says without hesitation.  "Once he graduates he's going to be an electrical engineer and make a ridiculous amount of money.  I would have a nice house.  A nice car.  Nice things.  But there wouldn't be any emotion there.  We'd just sit across the room and stare at each other.  I want what you and I have.  I love you."

"I love you too, angel."

Then our lips meet and open; allowing us better access to the warmth within.  She then pulls away and tells me,

"And besides, your writing is going to take off.  It might take awhile but I know it will."

After that we spend the rest of our short time together making coffee, baking a frozen pizza, teasing each other in several ways, laughing and then cuddling up while we watch bits and pieces of Office Space.  Our time is always too brief and I savor every second because I'm never quite sure when I'll get to see her again.

"You're gorgeous."

"You're silly."

When the movie ends we share a few more passionate kisses before I walk her to her car.  We kiss softly and then passionately for another several minutes before I make my way back to the house.  Just as I reach the front porch I sprint back and dive through the open passenger window in order to get one last kiss.  I walk back when I hear her ask for one more and I oblige her for the last time.  She calls out "I love you!" and I watch her taillights fade into nothing.

My first review!

I've received a review for my first book, My time in Hell and other whimsical tales, on Amazon.  Here's what Danni had to say:

This book has it all, everything you want to read is in this book. Warning: once started it can't be put down. It's a helluva page turner, and the catch? It's a true story.-5 Stars

I can't even begin to tell you how much this means to me.  Though, therein lies the problem.  My book has been on the market for almost two months now and I've only sold about 7 copies. I've big plans for the future, but as of right now I'm every bit the starving artist.  Seriously, I only weigh 132 lbs if there isn't any change in my pockets.  I need this book to take off soon.  If you're new to my work it's the perfect jumping on point and leads directly into my second, yet unpublished project, I've no reason to dream, which is the most interactive and revolutionary story ever told.

Here's My time in Hell's description:

My name is Davlin Stewart and without the written word I would not be alive today. What started as a form of therapy has turned into a passion which only burns brighter with each passing day. My book, My time in Hell and other whimsical tales, covers eight years of struggle where I'd turned to writing in order to make sense of the world around me. Just a few of the few topics covered within its pages include relationships, molestation, drugs/alcohol, religion, contracting STDs, a five day stint in a mental hospital, the trials of being an unknown author, performing in open mics, making progress with mental illness and finding a sense of peace despite it all.

I want you to know that, no matter what you're going through, you are not alone and there is someone out there who understands. Besides, the only thing you have to lose is four bucks and a little bit of time. 

So, if you're interested in seeing the breakout work of one of the best kept secrets of the literary world, look no further.  Links to both Amazon and Barnes and Noble can be found on the right side of this blog.  Please, don't make me beg...

Again.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 18

My name is Davlin Stewart...

...and next month I'll turn 25 years old.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about life, responsibility, love and regret. Even after all this time I'm still not exactly sure what it is that I've learned about any of them. But, I still feel like I'm getting wiser. Funny how that works out.

Over the last several years, I've learned what kind of man I want to be.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 17

Twilight is bullshit and so are you.

I swear to God, I never wanted it to come to this. Of all the strange, stupendous, staggering things taking place in my life right now, I can't fathom why this is the topic I'm choosing to write about. But, it must be said. Twilight is bullshit and so are you.

I had always thought about Twilight the same way I always do when I see the next lame, yet fleeting, female fad. It's harmless and it will pass. But I was wrong.

The first time I gave the series more than a passing glance was at last years comic con. Look it up. I'd give you the link but, fuck it, I don't want to. There were almost riots because droves of Twilight fans flooded the convention and camped out during the panels so they wouldn't miss the Twilight one. Here's something those of you who are not social outcasts need to understand. It's during these panels that all of the big, nerd world shattering news is broken. People come from all over the world to see these, because they are sacred. Now, imagine an undead army of preteen girls hunkered down and filling up all the spaces so they could see something no one else at the convention could even give two shits about. They would have had no trouble getting a seat. Twilight is bullshit and so are you.

I've since watched the first film. I did it for the same reason any straight male has seen it, I've got a girlfriend who deep down inside, hates me. I can honestly say it is one of the top ten worst films I have ever seen.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 16

I'm fucking losing it and I can't sleep.

He's breaking his lease, because he doesn't have any money. If I let him out of it, I have to pay a total of $1,030 in fees. All he said initially was "I'm sorry, dude" and "good luck with that."

I tried to cut him a deal. If he gave me the living room set, the washer and dryer as well as his flat screen, I'd call it even. He was reticent, but I told him if he didn't agree to my terms I wouldn't let him out of the lease and I'd sue him for every penny. That would come to a total of

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 15

Things...are really starting to go well for me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it, yet. The hardest thing I'll ever have to do is allow myself to be happy. For the first time in my life, I'm beginning to see the value I possess.

Do you ever sit back and think about some of the things that have happened to you? I don't mean dwell on

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 14

(I found this one interesting)

I'm twenty five years old now and I'm ready to settle down. It's time to start looking for the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm in a hurry.

My past relationships have given me the knowledge of what I'm looking for.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 13

(about Alison)

When we first started dating, she was terrified of other people. If we were at her place and ordered a pizza, I'd have to call it in and meet them at the door. It was even like that between us.

She couldn't talk to me without the ambiguity of of a screen, which means I never learned how to read her. After I converse with someone long enough, I can begin to read the story carved between the wrinkles of a forehead.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 12

Having sex is a lot like watching a movie. Hear me out.

The first time you see a flick is almost always the best. Oftentimes, after that initial viewing the whole experience becomes stale.

Sometimes a movie is worth a second go.

The same could be said for sexual partners. It might sound harsh, but we've all been there. You meet someone, have sex with them and, next thing you know, you're only in a relationship with them because it's a sick justification for that one time.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 11

Tomorrow I'm going to Lafayette for work and I won't be back until Thursday. Before I get on the plane there's something I really need to say, just in case...well, let's just leave it at that.

I know you think no one notices you, but you're wrong. I always have, even though I was never the one you wanted. Why do you think I'm still here after all this time? It's because I've been waiting on you to notice me.

I know, you're comfortable with him. You've said it countless times and I get it.
It's a stress free life of routine, but also one which comes at the price of passion. He doesn't see you for the quirky, brilliant, beautiful, tortured, artistic, sexy, amazing woman that you are. The romance is gone and he doesn't make you feel special. Everyday you question decision to stay

Things don't have to be this way. You can have someone who's working towards a goal and . You can live a life that keeps you guessing and reignite the fire inside you which had been snuffed out years ago. You can be loved and, yes, you do deserve it. You just have to decide that being comfortable isn't enough for you anymore.

Look, I know we're both out of our minds. But I also think we just might be crazy enough to work.

P.S. Boy, won't this be awkward if my plane doesn't crash!

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 10

The bulk of last weekend was spent seeing family and old friends. It was nice helped to keep my brain distracted. They told me they were surprised at how well I was dealing with everything. They bought it.

Over the last week I've spent the majority of my time in this room alone.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 9

"Sometimes...I get this feeling like you want to be in a bad relationship."

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 8

Epiphany in the blue

From as far back as I can remember, there's been this darkness inside of me. When I become overwhelmed it takes over and every day is a struggle not to let this happen. Doctors have given it several names. A few of my favorites were bipolar(both 1 & 2), paranoid schizophrenia and manic depression with hypersexuality. I've dealt with it for 25 years now.

The first 18 of which were harrowing and I endured them without the aid of cigarettes, pharmaceuticals or drugs. Now, while I survived, I didn't do a very good job with coping and it has left me somewhat broken. I remember back in seventh grade it started to catch up with me. I was rocked with stomach pains so severe the only thing I could do was curl up into the fetal position until it finally decided to abate. Anytime I ate I would throw it up, causing me to drastically lose weight. Every single test was taken, including one with a rubber glove, during countless visits to the ER and they all showed nothing physically wrong. Turns out it was all in my head. I found my medication when I was 17 started writing songs, though only a few of them were any good. This is because my thoughts move too fast for me to focus on them, an endless static which kept me from sleeping. This was a both a blessing and a curse.

I took an inordinate amount of pills a few weeks after my 18th birthday hoping to finally free myself from all the things no child should have to live with. It didn't work. The next day I moved in my Mom and I picked up smoking cigarettes shortly after. I've given a lot of thought as to the reasons I so thoroughly enjoyed something that did nothing but horrible things to my already damaged body. There are two things that originally attracted me to it. See, smoking gave me a reason to leave a crowded room when I became too overwhelmed.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 7

Back in February I applied for a film school in California three weeks before class started. After I'd already quit my job, it fell through. When I got off the phone with my financial aid representative, I was absolutely devastated.

I then called Ana to let her know what was going on. I then told her I had a few other phone calls to make and would talk to her a little later. After I made them I ended up feeling even worse and had to get out of the apartment for awhile.

I climbed in my car, fired it up and turned my music up to a slightly uncomfortable volume.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 6

The storms rage inside. I close my eyes as the force rocks me back and forth. Images flash just long enough to stir emotions, but not enough to .

I reach out to touch you, but my fingers find only glass.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 5

Distance

The simple truth is it's hard to manage things like this long distance and we've got a lot of strikes against us.

Relationships are built upon our senses because they serve as the connections to memories. The only one we've ever experienced is sound. This means we're missing out on all the others The future you and I want so desperately hangs entirely upon words.

We're just lucky that's what I'm best at.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 4

Outside. Everything is covered with a thick sheet of ice, making navigation treacherous. Steam is pushed from my mouth in short, rapid bursts. My wool overcoat rendered ineffective by the chill. Every step I take comes with images of slipping and cracking my head on the cement.

I wondered who would find me and what they would do when they did? Hopefully they wouldn't just rob me blind and leave me to freeze over. Out of all of those I care about, who would be

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 3

I decided to go for a walk today because the storm left me stuck inside of my apartment for the better part of three days. If I'm going out for a stroll I usually prefer any month that isn't winter, but today the harsh winds reinvigorated my senses. And of course, I slipped deep into thought.

It's so weird how things play out sometimes. I had originally planned on reflecting on all of the events that had to happen to bring me here, but instead, just like always, my ruminations drifted to you and then there they stayed.

The first time I'd heard mention of you was four years ago, when Mike told me they found my female replacement at the store in SC. He then went on to tell me you and I were perfect for each other. I trusted his judgment and then immediately sought you out on Myspace.

As cliche as it sounds, the breath was stolen from my lungs the instant I saw your picture. Physically, you were everything I could have wanted in a member of the opposite sex. I read up on your interests and blogs only to find out you were also everything I wanted in another human being.

I don't remember how much time had passed but eventually you messaged me. In fact, a lot of our earlier conversations have been lost to time but I do remember what I thought during our first phone call. "This could be it." Then you mentioned your boyfriend and I threw that shit right out the window.

Over the years our lives took us in different directions. You found lovers and I had a few as well. Though, and this is the truth, no matter who I was with I always wished I was the one lucky enough to be laying by your side.

About a year ago you were in the middle of a long, committed relationship and I had just gotten a girlfriend. We lost contact until her and I broke up, but I still thought about you constantly. Even though you and I went for 6 months without any real contact, when we did reconnect it was like no time had passed at all.

This was about the time I started building my website and we grew closer than ever. You were the first person I even showed pictures of it to. I knew you'd understand what I was doing because we've both always understood each other. Not just some superficial level either, I'm talking about the core person we don't let other people see.

The feelings I'd been building for you over the last few years exploded and, again I know I'm being cliche, I've never experienced anything like it before. This time, I didn't want to sabotage or destroy it. Instead, I wanted to appreciate it on whatever level I could have.

I was terrified that day when I told you that day how I felt. It wasn't because I thought you'd reject me, I was already expecting that to be the outcome. I was scared because I didn't want to ruin our friendship or lose you as a result. The only reason I even told you was because I wanted to thank you for giving me that feeling. When you told me to let them go, I was willing to do it just so I could still be in your life.

During the text conversation that night I could feel something in you shift. You were softer with me than you'd ever been before. While I went to bed that night with a new found hope, I tried my best not to let it get too big.

That is until you told me you felt the same way and we never looked back. This month spent with you over text messages has satisfied me more than any of my previous relationships combined. We are able to be completely honest with each other without the repercussions of judgment or shunning.

There are a lot of things about both of our pasts that break my heart knowing we had to experience. I now think we had to go through each and every one of them in order to fit together as perfectly as we do. No matter what's happened over the last 4+ years we've always found a way back to each other. We just weren't ready for it until now.

You're my best friend and confidant. I love you more than I ever thought possible, Ana, and we've still yet to meet face to face. I can promise you this; I will spend every single day loving and appreciating you for the smart, witty, beautiful, geeky, wounded, insightful, eccentric and inspiring person that you are once we finally do.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 2

A collection of some of the things she said to me when they were still good:


You do get impatient sometimes, and way ahead of yourself. It's one of my favorite things about you. I enjoy watching you get excited and letting your mind take you places.

As far as us goes, it catches me off guard sometimes that I'm really this happy and I'm not trying to be. I never had that, or expected to.

I love that about you though. You just do things. I research EVERYTHING.

You're so romantic. I think that's the biggest way you offset me. It's nice because you bring that side out in me.

as if I could possible keep my hands off you. You have so much to learn! hah

And I pretty much bailed on matt as soon as I found out you'd written I live to read your work, as it happens.

You are creepy in the sweetest way and I love it.

But honestly I don't think you realize how talented you are. Yes. I mean I know you realize you have talent, but what you write amazes me.

I love you so much I don't know how to put it into words.

I think if there was a word for it, hearing it would be the same as staring into the sun. It's better to just be comforted by the warmth.

An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 1

Most reoccuring dream # 1


(written about Ana)


We're sitting in the 101 Coffee Shop, the girl from my dreams whom I've never met. I know everything about her, though I've never touched her in the waking world. She's wearing her favorite jeans. The hood of her sweatsheart is pulled down, shrouding her face in darkness. One hand supporting her forehead, the other absentmindedly stirring the eggs that make her sick, but eats anyway. She lets out a heavy sigh which shakes the table when it lands.

"You're just so intense sometimes." She tells me in a cracked whisper. "You're so bright you burn."

"I don't understand."

She winces involuntarily, because she knows the truth is going to hurt. "Don't you think this is all moving a little too fast?"

"This is what you told me you wanted."

"Maybe I don't know what I want. Maybe you were right."

"Look. Don't do this. Please."

"Don't beg, ok? We're in public." She chides me like an unruly child. Then her voice becomes quiet and her words laced with venom. "You come off way too strong, ok? You moved way to fast. You're so sweet it makes me want to vomit. Okay? Are you happy?"

The alarm clock never seems able to penetrate the walls of this dream until long after its completion.

I guess I should have seen that coming (Reader's discretion is advised)

I'm still not entirely sure what it was which compelled me to do it, but I did.  I've thought about it constantly for a good while now, and though I knew no good would come from this course of action, I did it anyway.  Tonight I read Ana's blog.

I'm not sure what it was I was hoping to get from her words, I've been told she hated me and I guess I was trying to find some sort of sign as to why.  Well, I got it and here's what she wrote.

I also want to say, Ben, if you're reading this and blaming yourself so you can have more fuel for the self pity fest I'm sure you've been throwing yourself since you got back to Texas, stop reading it. You really are a piece of shit. My bad day I'm having that is causing me to write this post has nothing to do with you, nor does any other aspect of my life. And you're a real loser, and you need to just pull out your tampon and move on with your life. You were a dick. You ruined our relationship. Get the fuck over it. I did. And hey, maybe you're not even reading this. Maybe you're not crying all the time and imagining some world where you and I can be together if you could just change what you did or some bullshit. That would be awesome. But in case you are reading this, there you have it. Stay out of my life and fucking live yours for once.

It honestly left me speechless, though that has since subsided.  Ever since the breakup I've only posted pieces which spoke (pretty) favorably of you.  I've never lashed out against you in a public forum and I guess asking you to do the same would be too much.  Though, lying is what got us into this mess, so allow me to be honest with you for the first time since I moved to Tennessee.

You're right, I probably was a dick, but this is only because you were a miserable fucking cunt who sucked every scrap of joy I had left.  I was miserable with you and you never once seemed to care.  All those times I was taking out the trash or walking Vicious; it was because I was trying to get away from you.  Oh, and I to smoke because being around you stressed me out so much I didn't know what else to do.  I was honest with you about everything before I moved and the second I got there you fucking changed and expected me to do the same.  When I couldn't fit into this mold you wanted of me you began to lash out.  I had absolutely no sense of self worth by the time you were done with me that I probably was a loser.  More than that, though, I was broken the fuck down and I'm glad you ended us.  I was more upset about having to go back to Texas than never seeing you again.

At first, sure, I mourned the end of us.  I thought I missed you, but the truth is I only missed the person I thought you were.  She, however, never existed.  Again, yes, I did feel sorry for myself, but how dare you make fun of me for that.  Bitch, you have absolutely no idea what the fuck I've been through BECAUSE OF YOU.  I guess for you to be able to see this it would require you to have a heart, but we both know that's not exactly going to happen.  You're cold, mentally abusive and one of the most despondent people I have ever known.  So, as for that world where we could still be together, no thanks.  I've been to that Hell once and didn't find it enjoyable.

The only reason I even went to your blog was because I truly hoped you were doing okay.  I wanted you to fix all the fucking issues you so clearly have and maybe find a sense of peace.  Now, I'm going to go back to living my life, which has improved greatly just from you not being a part of it.

Yes, I've created another blog.

This one houses all my songs and works of fiction.  Check it and enjoy.


Lyrics and Fabrications

Also, please, buy my fucking book.  There's a link to the right of the screen for both Kindle and Nook.  I can't even begin to tell you how much I need this.

An open letter to the biggest piece of shit I've yet to have the displeasure of meeting.

Stephen,

Hey guy, how's it going?  I know quite a bit about you, which puts you at an unfair advantage.  Allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Davlin and I've known your wife longer than you have.  Now, granted, most of that time was spent apart and she was with you, but I know her better than you could ever hope to.  Ever since we reconnected back in the beginning of February there hasn't been a day without us speaking in one form or another.  All those times you made her cry, I was the one putting a smile on her face.  Every time you drove her to hurt herself, I was the one who quelled the tears and brought her back from the edge.  Whenever you would tear her down with your abuse, I'm the one who was building her back up.  When you refused to pay attention to your son, I was the one talking to him on the phone and playing games with him.  I am the man who will give them both what they deserve, which is more than you've ever thought about doing.

That's who the fuck I am.

A few nights ago you sent me three text messages and I held back from responding to them at her request.  Here's what you sent, along with my responses to each.

What the hell are you doing with my wife?

When you sent me that message I was sitting in the passenger seat of her car, holding her.  She was so far gone by the time she got to my place because of the horrible things you said to her.  I had her in my arms and I dried her tears, while telling her how beautiful and amazing she is in order for her to calm down.  In short, I was being compassionate, asshole.  You should really try it sometime.

Do you really not have any respect for people?

I have respect for many people, but I feel that's something which should be earned.  When it comes to an emotionally distant, physically and emotionally abusive piece of shit who does nothing but make the woman I love cry?  Sorry, but no.  I don't have any respect for you.

You got the balls to try and steal someone else's wife, but too scared to reply back?

 In the spirit of staying honest, I was terrified to reply back.  This wasn't because I was scared to confront you, believe me, there's nothing I want more.  I was afraid you were going to hurt her again because you lost your temper.  This is the difference between you and me, I actually put other people first.  She asked me not to respond, so I kept my cool because her safety is more important than my ego.  Also, for the record, my balls are huge and I haven't tried anything.  Motherfucker, I succeeded.

Now, we're probably reaching the point of no return and a physical conflict is quickly becoming unavoidable.  A few things you should probably consider.

1. I've never had a physical altercation in my adult life.
2. I weigh 132 lbs.
3. I lack the combat experience you've gained from beating up women so you do have that in your favor.

Despite those three points against me, I'm not scared of you in the slightest.  Regardless of the outcome of this hypothetical bout, it doesn't change the fact that I can give your wife and son everything you've never been able to.  Enjoy the scavenger hunt you have planned for her tomorrow.  I'm sure walking her through the four years of Hell you've put her through won't blow up in your face at all.  It's a great idea, really.  In fact I look forward to hearing all about it afterward.  It's been a rough couple of days, I could use a hearty laugh.  And on the bright side, once she comes to me and is happier than she ever was on her best day with you, you'll have all the time in the world to play your precious video games.

A far better man than you'll ever be,
Davlin

Achievement unlocked!
Steal the love of your life from an abusive and selfish piece of shit 

Impasse

My life often tends to be story like in nature. When I look back I can see a rich tapestry woven of parables, symmetries, plot lines which had to have been scripted well beforehand as well as a loose thread or two. I used to think I saw things this way because I was a writer, but now I'm starting to wonder if I became one in order to make sense of it all. I'd once written about the fallacies regarding fate and soul mates and even went on to mock those who believed in such nonsense.



I now realize I couldn't have been more wrong.



For years I'd viewed events of my life through such a narrow lens that only the immediate present was visible. I ran from my past while ignoring the lessons they have always tried to impart and the future was something I never imagined myself even living long enough to see. Recent events, however, have swapped needle thin lens out for a panoramic view and I'm finally able to take in the big picture. It's nothing short of staggering.



The first act has already been released (out now for Kindle and Nook!) and in a month's time I've sold a whopping six copies. Don't get me wrong, there's a very big part of me which jumps for joy for each and every one of them, but I've got big plans for my professional and personal life and, quite frankly, this isn't even fucking close to cutting it. Every attempt I've made to get my name out there has been left with a response that's left me somewhat crestfallen. Though I do want to truly thank each and every one of you who have bought my first and/or helped me spread the word; it's just nowhere near enough.



The second is still waiting on a publisher or financial backer brave enough to take the risk of releasing the most interactive and revolutionary story ever told. I'm cautious to talk about it because I really don't want to spoil the surprise. Trust me, it's best if you discover its secrets the way I've originally intended. This brings me to something of an impasse regarding the third.



For you see, it's still being written and sharing any of it with you right now would not only steal a little of Act II's magic, but also annihilate all of the promotional plans I have regarding its release. It's with this in mind that I have decided to take a step back from publicly posting every single thing the instant I finish. I've started another, secret blog to be shared with a select few in order to have all of my newer posts read and public releases will be kept to a bare minimum until I finally reach the Holy Grail of successful publication. I've given myself freely to everyone for almost three and a half years now and I just can't do it this way anymore. If you've been following my work for any span of time I promise you've yet to see the best of what I can do and you're not going to until I'm finally able to make a career out of my passion, my art.



That first taste is always free, my friends. Sooner or later you've gotta pay.

The words in which I found strength were not my own.

Before you say anything, I'm well aware I've been here before. Yes, it was only just a year ago when I was formulating the same plans. Only, now I've got even less money and resouces as well as an extra 400 miles in which I'll have to travel in order to make this happen. You can throw the fact that last time I tried this it failed miserably back into my face if you must, but, honestly, I've stopped living my life based on what everyone else thinks I should do.

"I want you to know I do my best to be everything you need me to be.  I will always support your dreams and help make them happen. I will do my best to never hurt you or let you down. I love you, Ben."

Regardless of how things might have ended with the last one six months ago and how stupid I realize some of the things I said this time last year were, I know this is what I want. But, like everything else in my life, it's just so fucking complicated. Besides, she kinda said it best herself.

"I don't see how any girl would let you go."

At the beginning of last month I was at the end of my rope and for the first time in years I sat down with tears in my eyes and prayed. I asked God to show me there were still reasons for me to stick around and life truly worth living. Not long after, I received this message from an ex out of the blue on facebook.

"I don't know if you remember me or not.  I was a friend on Kat and Johnathan's.  You and I dated for a little while. And I want to apologize for being a bitch.  I'm not sure exactly how things ended but I blame myself. And, I want to say I'm sorry.
I hope you are well. Please write me back."

We started talking on February 11th and all of a sudden...I no longer felt like dying. Within moments I promised her I wasn't going anywhere this time and I meant every word. So, I stayed and we caught up. All those old feelings had remained buried and, once they resurfaced everything started to make sense. I was falling for her all over again.

"Ben, you mean the world to me. I want you to know that. You are everything I want in a man. I’ve very grateful you forgive me for making the biggest mistake of my life which was leaving you. I’m so lucky to have my soulmate in my life. I love you, sweetpea, more and more everyday. You make me want to be a better, stronger person."

We continued to talk and then at midnight on Valentine's day I decided not to follow through with my original plan and instead sat down and wrote Evidence of Angels. I called her up later that day and read it to her. Now, I mentioned earlier that this situation is complicated, but I'm very hesitant to get into too many details, because that is not my story to tell. I'll just say instead that things are extremely rough for us both right now. Add to it the fact that the one we want to be with is half a country away and it makes some days a real struggle to get through. For instance, every once in awhile I'll get a message like this one.

"I'm crying because I want you Ben."

And there's not a damn thing I can do, except be as sweet as I possibly can to her and hope it helps to ease her anguish. It feels, however, that mere words are starting to lose their effect and I just wish I could be there to kiss her tears away.

"You are my soulmate and knight in shining armor I’ve wanted my whole life."

It just really fucking sucks most days. As also previously mentioned, I've made things harder on myself by leaving for TN last year. Live and learn, though. Since I've lost my car and only work 24 hours a week, this leaves no money to put back and barely enough to survive. I've put my first book on sale at both Amazon and Barnes and Noble in the hopes of getting enough sold in order to make yet another journey out of state to be with her. She deserves to be loved and appreciated, which is something I plan on doing forever if I can just make it there. Until this happens, though, we still have our words.

"Ben, I want you to know I love you with all my heart and will do anything for you.
I will support you in every way. I will make sure you are happy everyday. I will take care of you. I love you more than I have ever loved another before…You are my heart, my soul, my better half, my love."