Wake and bake

I feel it building.  Coming over me like an eclipse of the soul.  Washing over my smiles with shadow, a tear falls in the bowl that I just loaded.  Packed it tight, I can't sleep through the screams.  I cant block them out, they're in my mind and my dreams.  I just awoke to the sound of gunshots and women crying.  Was it real?  My dog is not responding and everything now seems still. 

I take a hit off the pipe, still hearing the echos of screams from my dreams and it seems rage is running through my mind and being.  I close my eyes and hold in my breath for full effect.  I breathe out with a prayer that the herb does what I expect and stop the shaking that almost keeps me from sparking my next hit.  I get one in, sit back and wait for it to hit.  I close my eyes and focus on the sound of the fan, some images in my mind still of random violence and innocents crying, dying, trying to get away from the man.  He's holding a gun, trained and ready to ride for what he believes in and for his people's pride.  I open my eyes and take another hit.  Then I sit waiting for it to do its trick.  Finally, the pain in my chest subsides, I exhale slowly and rub my eyes.  Now I realize that my hands no longer shake.  I breathe deep again, relaxing my shoulders, enjoying the break.  I pray God for forgiveness for being weaker than I used to be, but I don't know what else to do, without it, I'm not free to think without wanting to hurt others or myself because of my rage, while my body breaks down and crumbles before the age that it was meant to fade.   But in this moment there's no pain, even laughing at good memories of my brothers, my friends, and the people that support me. I thank God for them, I thank God for life and I bow my head and pray that God help me through the strife that I know is coming on this day.  When the high is gone, life goes on and the shadows return.  I pray that I remember what I feel only in times like these, there's good in the world, it's worth fighting for, indeed

.

Attack

It starts out with a thought.  Maybe a memory of a mistake.  My thoughts get dark, seemingly from some other place.  Things like rage and violence float in and out of my mind, thoughts of ending it all, leaving it all behind.  I retreat to my spot so I can hide and relax, keep everyone safe, calm down before I go back. My hands start to shake and my breathing starts to quicken, I start to sweat and get dizzy, the panic starts to set in.  I hunch over and sit, trying to catch my air. Its like reaching and grasping for shit that ain’t there.  My stomach cramps and I vomit, Im outta breath, I feel weak.  Im on my knees now, all tensed up, I can’t speak.  I scream out in my mind “take a breath, hold it in!  Get back up. Rise up.  On your feet again!”  I think of all of my kids, my parents, my brothers.  All my mentors, examples, friends and others.  I pray God help me to be who they know I can be.  Let their highest perception of me, be my reality.  Give me the strength to stand again and see.  The things that they see when they see me.  

Terabyte Drive

Remember when a terabyte drive actually looked like it could be a terabyte drive?

Trees

"Is this girl scout cookies?"

"My dude didn't have a name for it."

"Maybe its called 'it ruined my life'...."

Twitter

I created a twitter account.  Not sure what to do with it.  But I'm gonna try it out.

https://twitter.com/artery_mob

I created a facebook page!  Its about time I got with the times.....

Fuckin FaceBook

Fuck humanity

So...after being in a job where it's employees look bad because rough situations, I sympathize with police that have hard decisions.  But I saw a few actual videos of police shooting people who either have their hands up or are walking away.  Maybe it's just me....but in every situatuon where I have been taught to use a firearm, if my target is nonchalantly walking away and I shoot him instead of detaining him, it's unjustified.  I guess I just don't understand.  And it's not just black people it's anyone.  And it's all over the country.  I'm not even outraged...I'm just shocked.  I've seen a lot of messed up shit...and I was shocked.  Who are these assholes that go against their training?  I suppose I could treat cops like everyone treats Muslims and just hate anyone with a badge.  Because that mentality apparently makes sense to the majority of the populace.  I don't understand that either.  It seems like....people in general are just idiots.  Alot of my friends wonder why I hate humanity....watch the news.  Watch that asshole on fox.  Maybe I'm not different.  Maybe I'm just right

Scary

I read a text from you today.  It said that you miss me.  I couldn’t help but read it again.  I mean, all the times you would kiss me and hold me and hold my hand, reminding me of my strength.  The most support I’ve received from a woman for any length
of time. 
And now I cry
Facing this life alone, without you by my side, my life, my home.  What do I do now?  When I’m beaten down and crushed by the weight of the things that plague me, the love and even hate.  I have no one.  I lost him too, the best friend that I had.  All I can do is give in to the rage that masks the fact that I'm sad.  It swallows the tears before I cry them, two of my best friends in life,  what do I do with out them?
I don’t know anymore.  My thoughts are racing so fast that I don’t know if I can take it, I don’t know if ill last.  I feel it building.  The hate that I feel inside is strong.  It helps me forget who I am and combat whats wrong. 
Fuck them, then, I don’t need them.  I don’t want them in my life.  They don’t deserve my respect or satisfaction when I cry.  They don’t deserve to see me smile.  They don’t deserve to see me breaking. Faking smiles with my friends and hating life deep inside. Ill kill them both.  Both will know the extent of my rage. They will feel it coming, but have nowhere to run from my rage.  I have trained to cause harm with my hands and cause more with my mind. I will shatter everything they know, then see what they can find together.  Fuckin tell me that you’ll do it again.  All that’s on my mind is hate and sin.  UntiI I have a moment of clarity coming from somewhere with in.  Its God this time reminding me who I am inside.  Drop to my knees pray for strength to find me again.  stay inside, hurt myself to stop the shaking.  Slow the thoughts, it’s the cycle in my head that I’m breaking.    I’m better than that.  I remind myself over and over.  Hurting someone won't change the fact that its over.  Or the fact that I can’t run away from the sadness.  Nor will it change the hate, or rage, or loneliness or madness.  The biggest thing it won't change, and would exacerbate most…..at the end of the day, it hurts cause I love them both.

Life

I sit and I think and consider my life.  Often times had no clue how to get through the strife. And I broke and I stumbled and laid down for a while and now my goal every day is to muster a smile. 
I started out kicking ass and running shit where I landed.  I broke records, set precedents with every hand I was handed.  Getting awards a recognition for serving my country, fighting in wars with intellect, aiding terrorist hunting.  Then I saw what we did, while chasing after the devil.  Killed innocent people while trying to stay on the level.  Destroying cities and towns where the targets were hiding, bringing them out in the open to continue the fighting.  
Mothers cried and shouted, seeing the dead all around.  Bloody blankets wrapped around  bodies laying still on the ground.  A mother holds a dead child, weeping and screaming “why” to Allah, and I told myself “take it easy, your just doing your job.” 
I watched over soldiers outside the wire ,completing their mission. Made friends with my contact, talked about wives we were missing. They got ambushed, a fire fight broke out on the scene, the man on the screen asked for help from me.  But my people were far out, on their way to the spot, without clearance to help though the situation was hot.  “Where’s my support?” asked the man on the ground, as he pleaded.  I couldn’t give him the help he asked for yet that he needed.  Many died while we waited for permission to aid. Someone caught shrapnel in the neck from a frag grenade. 
And for what? 
So the generals can add a new ribbon?  So the president can smile at the praise he was given?  Given by the greedy and war hungry people and groups, lining their pockets with the sacrifice and lives of the troops.  War is a business and they will always be seeking the profit.  I, myself, alone couldn’t stop it. 
After a while, I broke, guess I couldn’t handle the stress.  And could no longer see the good that was supposed to come from the mess.  Thoughts racing, telling me to fight and hurt others.  Kill everyone; men, children and mothers.  Rage building as I combat the feelings inside, keeping others safe by running and committing to hide.  Chilling in closets, restrooms, and bathroom stalls to stay calm, taking time away from school, work and all. 
I lost jobs, my family and my friends to the pain.  Felt like I was wounded, lying alone in the rain.  Some one save me from myself, I scream, I implore.  Locked myself in tight spaces, crying, smoking weed on the floor.  Committed myself to finding ways to get relief quicker, drowning my sorrows and pain and demons in liquor. 
Sat in my car with a pipe and some blue dream to smoke.  Got tired of everything and, again, I broke.  Closed the garage and the car door and started the car, smoked a bowl, crying, I used to be a star. I was strong once, a force of nature to fear.  Then I gave in to the anger, the hate, the fear.  My nephew came in and saved my pathetic life, trying  to give me hope and support to get me through the strife.  
Now I sit and I think with new meds in me.  Realize that I’m done with that life now, I'm free.  Now trying to be what I was meant to be. Which is just the best me that I can be. 

Texting while driving

Don't worry, I only do it when traveling at high speeds.....with my knees

entry

There is another Torment entry.

Counseling

"You have issues now at 33.  You're going to be 40 one day,  God willing.   Do you want to be 40 and better or 40 and have the same fucking problems you had at 33?"

Addition

Check out my new additions to Torment.

apparently

Apparently, he thinks that recalling your mistakes and saying "I told you so" will be very helpful right now and won't make you want to harm people in anyway.

Dream-ish

With all the sobbing comes the blood,  people crying,  running away,  from these.   Baby on the ground face down crying to beat hell,  parents dying in the streets.
I hide my face,  but they still stay in my vision,  eyes opened or closed.
The survivors looking around at the destruction,  questions posed.   God,  why did you take them at all?   Why this way?  Why didn't those here to protect us save us from this day?
Then they all slowly fade away and the sounds begins to silence.  Leaving only a memory of what happens when the world is ruled by violence.

Something I heard with my ears

Fuck,  Jehovahs!   Or... Dressed up Mexicans... Im not sure

Suck

I don't want things to suck less,  I want them to not suck.

Rosie O'Donnell

Rosie O'Donnell has fat legs.   Fat legs and a fat face.

Though

If you're never happy,  do things that suck still suck as much?

Something I actually heard with my ears......lol.

"Yeah thats right you better look at me like you're a shit ass."
                                                             - My girlfriend

Conversation

I want to point out that the same type of people that have a problem with gays being legally bound together are the same type of people that had a problem with interracial couples  the same type of people that tipped over buses with black children on them during integration.   The same type of people that spike on equality while raping and beating their slaves in the background.   This government,  the one that I swore to uphold,  is nothing but selfish, pig-headed cowards.   Thats why it takes so long for troops to get their aid.   And that's why two fucking adults that want to marry purely for legal reasons have a hard time. I feel like God is going to come back and,  like the Bible says,  separate us by who help those in need and everyone in the government will be on the wring side for lining their pockets with the taxes of the poor a disheartened.   The people upon who's back this country was built and remains standing.   They live off of us and can't support us to save their own skin

a partly good day

A slow smile formed on his face.  He was sitting, gazing at the green marble-esque table infront of him.  He was thinking about things that the music was reminding him of.  “Dust in the wind” was the third or fourth song he learned how to play on the guitar when he was young.  He thought and remembered his teacher, the one that gave him his guitar at the end of senior-year.  It meant a great deal to him and he was now wishing he would make more time to play it.  Thoughts then went to his best friend that particular year.  The time that they locked a teacher in the court yard.  Or the teacher that they gave hell because his first name was Lauren.  The one that went to college with him and worked at the same start up ISP for a time.  The one who’s presence was a given at any function that John had. 

He took a drink of his mountain dew and went back to eating his sandwich.  He was getting goose bumps on the back of his neck.  It happened to him from time to time, so he backed himself into the corner.  The goose bumbs always precede suicidal and homicidal ideation.  He sits in the corner of the booth and waits for the storm to come. 

Someone next to him says “he fucked your wife.”  John shakes his head slightly as if the thought would fall out of his head.  He began to wonder what was happening.  He was just thinking good thoughts about a good time in his life.  Now its dark again. He thought.  He sipped on his mt. Dew a bit more.

A couple arrived in the stall next to him.  The man spoke too loudly and forcefully than John thought he should have.  John looked down his fork and in a movement, picked it up and scooted to the end of the stool.  What the hell am I doing? 

Then he realized his high was wearing off.  He had this experience every time he came down before.  He’d forgotten about it as it had been a while since the last time he partook.  He was adjusting.

The mans wife says “yeah” in a tone that made John want to slit her throat.  God, he thought, please give me the strength to control this better without help.” 

His hands are shaking and his breathing is erratic.  After a deep breath and exhale, John began to gather his things  to leave.  I suppose I have been out for a while.  Its about that time.   

Thought!

I sheet!  I sheet on your whole family!

Need ("thought")

I feel like we need either pot or ricin

Donald Trump (thought)

I hope that worthless piece of shit dies and I hope I get to help.

dog ("thought")

I hope her dog doesn't die.   Then you'd have to feed it to yours.

Entities (prose)

They come to me in the silence with sharpened claws and teeth. 
Searching with blades unsheathed ready to feast on the weakened souls of the righteous that know no peace. 
Creating fear and turmoil with each step taken always faking and pretending to be a guide to the awakened.  
Feigning concern while they burn rage into my mind.  Reminding me of all the different kinds of death that can be inflicted by my hand.  
Alas,  targets are chosen,  the rationale woven into the complicated and torn fabric of my mind. 
What will I find when I resist?   I say not if,  but when.   When time means nothing and i'm alone in my mind what will I see to strengthen me?  
No matter what encouragement or  good memories of this and that.   No matter what smiles of which I'm reminded.   No matter what love I've felt. 
They're there in the corner of my mind,  eyes glowing in the dark,  teeth and blade shine from the far off flames that fuels my anger.   They wait for a mistake to make me one of them.   They wait for when my guard is down to overtake and win. 
But this is my dominion,  I control the ins and outs of the field on which we fight.   From where I dig deep and find the light thats been buried for a time.  The place that gives me hope,  gives my will the might to shine.   Where I'm me and they are mere weaker entities in my mind.

Casualty (poem)

Dear soldier,  told to go without knowing fully what's in store.  
The ones that know sit high above, drinking their favorite drinks wearing their suits,  treating the conflict as a chore. 
They mold objectives and pass them down,  never hearing the sound of a mortar fly,  or a soldier die fighting enemies that surround. 
They don't fully understand what will happen to your mind if you survive.   Maimed,  untouched,  or revived; lucky to be alive. 
Who's luck is this that takes the very sanity of us,  shakes our core?  Some of us go more than once,  twice,  three times,  four.  
We know now the toll,  we tell all the young ones we see what's in store.   Prepare to change completely,  every soldier that fights is a casualty of war. 

Save Me (Poem)

I sit,  praying God will save me from myself.   
My actions,  my relationships,  my career and my health
Are weighed down by this hatred with either too much origin or origin unknown. 
I can feel it in the air,  oozing through my smile,  seeping through my bones. 
I want everyone,  and I mean everyone to pay for what I feel. 
I want them to know,  to understand, I want them all to hear
My muffled cries of rage and murderous thoughts and inclinations. 
The beast that I hold down inside,  praying for salvation
From myself.   And my urges.   And the nightmares that make me smile. 
From the demon that sat upon my heart and intends to stay a while. 
I sit in the dark,  praying to understand the part that I can play
To push it all out of my heart and rise anew in the light of day. 
Lord help me.   Calm this beast.  How much longer I can control it, I don't know. 
Save me from my thoughts,  my mind,  myself.   Save me from my soul.

What Now? (poem)

To those who have made me who I am today, the anger,  the rage,  the sadness,  the pain.  
To every single one of you who started the game, 
To all that gave the orders,  the instructions,  the main
Idea that strength was to feign 
Happiness while breaking and falling apart, 
Destroying lives,  creating tragedy,  killing souls and hearts. 
To all of you who preyed on me when I was weak, 
Killing dreams,  and goals,  making my future bleak,
I ask you now what to do in the dead of night,
When I wake in cold sweats and can't sleep due to fright.   When the souls that I've taken come for me in my peace,  when the outcomes of my decisions haunt me in my sleep. 
When every dream I had is shattered and I feel I can't go on,  I ask you now what do I do?  Where do I find my song?  
All I want is to die or to kill  or to maim, 
To cause tears and laugh seeking joy through pain, 
How do I live now that all I see is the dark in my life,
Not the smiles or the laughter but the heartache and strife,
What will you do after creating this monster I've become, 
What will you do,  when after you,  I come?

My Mind (poem)

I see you smile but you don't know my mind. 
You don't see my visions or hear my voices
Telling me to harm,  telling me to fight,  to find
Someone to use as a release for my aggression 
No matter who they are,  how intelligent or kind.

I can hear your pleas of mercy,  your silent screams of fright
I can smell your tears and taste your anguish caused by me in the night.

But I fight the urge,  I punish myself for the horrible thoughts that plague me. 
I pray the Lord deliver me from myself,  to help to save me. 
And you live. 

The devil's sex toys

I don't think the devil has any fun sex toys.   They're probably all chain mail and thistles

Joke In My Head ("thought")

What do you call a group of Republicans in robes?  THE KKK