Lovely

Tom Waits - Smuggler's Waltz/Bronx Lullabye

New Moon Confession

Howdy, let's get started.

Since my last post I've gotten up and meditated one day. One day. And it was for ten minutes. That's sad. There was an all day retreat on Saturday and I totally didn't go. For fifteen minutes one day I seriously thought about it but then didn't anymore after that.

I've stopped practicing, basically. Every day I used to read or listen to an audio book. In the car, at work, before bed. Now I'm into Hammett and Palahniuk books instead (which are fantastic, btw) and even when I do get around to putting an audio book on I just zone out. When I'd put my malas on I'd speak the five vows in my mind. One for each loop around my wrist. Now I leave them at home on accident. Once almost at work. There is no motivation or energy.

I've had drinks, which is against one of these vows. Beer, bourbon. I've had a few cigarettes. I don't count cigars as against my practice. Why? Cuz they're all natural of course. Or cuz I'm a hypocrite, but either way I don't 'em.

I've been the laziest bum at work. I had to work three hours from home last night because of all the horse-assing I do while I'm in the office. I have no motivation there either. If I bust my ass to close out all my tickets, there will just be more waiting for me tomorrow. If I do an awesome helpful job will it matter a month down the road? This isn't the way to be, but it's how I've been feeling.

I'm just a slothful turd. I can't get up. This morning my mind tricked me into sleeping in by having me dream I actually got up. I love that shock when you realize you're still in bed and not really showered and dressed ahead of schedule. Maybe I should start going to bed at like Three AM and still getting up at my regular time so I have an excuse to be tired.

I'm getting selfish in my heart, again. Still. I want too much and when I don't get it I turn all shitty. Like I'm owed or something. Then I shun. Like it will buy me what I want. "Oh yeah? Take this! *shun* That will teach you, won't it?" Right, sure.

Oh well, tomorrow's another day right?

- Dave

Yee Haw

I'm not a big drinker. Partly because it's against my religion and partly because last Halloween I went to a friend's party and played to lose. I can't even remember the end tally but it was a lot, it was varied, and it was fast. I disobeyed the whole Beer Before Liquor rule and I paid for it. If I was awake I was throwing up. For twelve hours. After that my body kind of put us off alcohol for a while.

This weekend my friends took me to some cowboy bars. I had mentioned a few weeks earlier while helping one of them move that I wanted to go to one and he made plans. We only hit up two but we were out late and closed one down. On his scale of Dive Bars the first was apparently a 5, where 1 is you get stabbed as soon as you walk in the door. I found it so amusing that the parking lot was full to the brim with big trucks. My area isn't big on trucks and it seemed every one was at this bar.

The inside was crowded to the door and right on the left was a pregnant beermaid in tight jeans, a stretched wifebeater, and a cowboy hat, the ribs of her shirt expanding over her round belly and outie belly button. She had a galvanized horse trough filled with ice and beer. She accepted cash only, credit had to go to the bar. I picked what I mistook for a Guiness because of the G on the cap (only the tops were visible in the icewater) which really turned out to be a Miller Genuine Draft. It was very cold and I didn't really taste it before it was gone. Its hotter than seems natural for any place other than an over outside this time of year.

The first four or five songs weren't country at all and I was a little let down although the place was filled with old and new school cowboys and cowgirls. Old school being very tight jeans under the mushroom of large bellies in tucked in brushpoppers and sweat-stained cowboy hats. The new school consisting of jeans that allow circulation and baseball caps. Everyone was dancing, smoking, drinking, or talking loudly but I guess that's every bar.

Old and new schools alike danced to R&B and Eminem on the wooden dance floor smack in the middle of the place. A projection screen played sports on the opposite side of the room from me showing gymnastics of all things. Something from the Olympics years back I think. Lights with colored plastic covers shone on white hats getting down to bassy music. Finally a country song came on and everyone cheered and went from in-place-gyrating to more traditional country dancing although I never got to see any line dancing. Pointed boots went toe to toe twirling, stepping, and never quit running into eachother. I realized I kind of missed this culture even though Cowboy Up stickers make me grimace.

After loosing a race to finish another beer I bummed a smoke off my friend. He smokes menthols in a green and white pack with filters that are empty at the very end. He tells me this makes them a little less deadly, although I can't work out how. I don't smoke cigarettes regularly and this one probably made the list as number six or seven ever. I don't inhale. I'm an avid cigar smoker though and figured after over two and a half years I could probably inhale and be okay. I executed a small pull and after a second's hesitation I inhaled deeply through my mouth until my chest puffed out. After a moment I exhaled and noted with interest how at first no smoke was visible before finally exiting my lungs at the end of my breath. I wonder if smoke sinks inside people's lungs. No coughing, although admittedly it was a small drag. I go for more quantity and ended up coughing for a bit and wiping my eyes as I laughed. Part of me is glad to know that cigar smoking (in which you never inhale) does not callous your lungs to poisonous smoke. My friend shook his head and advised me not to get used to hit. He wants to quit but his concentration levels go right out the window. I advise the patch and switching to American Spirits because they are all natural. My parents are big into natural healing.

I watch a drunk man about my height but allover skinnier in a straw hat get down to more rap before leaving the dance floor to hang on a young couple just outside our little group of three. I wonder if he knows them. A waitress walks by and he tries to pinch her ass and laughs as he misses. I try to catch her reaction but she must be used to this or know the guy as she's laughing at something else already. I don't think his attempt was more than half-hearted. He comes over to us and says a few things I can't remember now, something about thank God for women. My menthol friend adds, "Thank God for tight jeans!" The cowboy laughs and says he don't care whether they're tight or loose, he's after what's inside.

I turn just in time to see two middle-aged women at the table in front of us lean up over the table and start making out. One may have had a lime in her mouth, I'm not sure, but my friend tells me the skinnier one was groping the other one like crazy. I think they both had boyfriends there with them. I was surprised. I didn't know country chicks were into that, although I guess the times and the liquor make it probable. I have no problem with girls locking lips.

Someone left hooker-red lipgloss with sparkles on the wide railing where I stand. There are ashtrays and empty beer bottles and some kind of bottle-opener contraption that's about the size of a beer can. My friend took it home after the grab-ass waitress said she doesn't ever use it, putting into his ever-present black messenger bag.

We decide to head out to another bar. I've never bar hopped before. We decide on a place in a higher-class part of town, something with Handlebars in the name. I'm a little silly but fine to drive. I want to smoke one of the three cigars I brought with me. I always bring more than I think I'll need just in case someone else wants one or I end up with more time on my hands. The place we head isn't good for this because in that part of town smoking indoors is prohibited. I hate laws like that. I have no problem with smoking bans on family-centered establishments like McDonalds but a goddamned bar? Please sir, you can't smoke in here. Now what kind of liquid poison would you like before you chat up some drunken stranger in the hopes of getting laid?

This new place has an amazing live band. Apparently they're sponsored or something by a big country music station. The singer has a guitar hanging from his shoulders while he plays a fiddle. They mix Rolling Stones and Elton John in with their set. The actual bar is setup so that one loop of the racetrack shape is indoors and the other out. My tall buddy and I stake out a table under the misters while my menthol friend gets drinks. We've been paying the cover and he pays us back with beer. The stools are dripping with condensation so we move farther onto the patio to hard metal chairs and table. The chairs bump out at the top and poke me in the shoulders uncomfortably if I lean back. We talk about movies, video games, and fantasy books for hours. For a short stretch we talk about our ladies but only for about fifteen minutes.

My friend with the cigarettes is married, as am I. My tall friend has a girlfriend of about a year now, I think. They met in college, where my wife met them. They all went to school together to get bachelor degrees. I have a generic associates in another field. While we're watching boot scootin' boogies my wife and Tall's girl are out at a vampire club with another good female friend of ours. They all dressed up in black and had fun doing eachother's hair and picking out clothes like it was a costume party in October. I didn't get to see them dressed up because they decided not to "waste" it when we all went out to dinner.

Menthol is falling asleep at Tall's apartment as we watch a censored version of Casino. It's 2:00am. I text my wife and apparently she's been home for about thirty minutes. After ten minutes or so of sitting on the couch inert I decide to head out. Menthol leaves too, using his reserve tank for driving.

We chat all the way home and she tells me about the outfits, the music, the weird dancing. I make a couple half-jokes after she mentions how sore her legs and ass are. She doesn't wash off her makeup or unmake her hair so I can see it when I get there. She has dark rings around her eyes and red lipstick. Her hair is in a million layers on back and she has long earrings with crucifies and ankhs in black. She looks nice.

I start to doze a bit on our bathroom floor propped up by the wall and cupboards under the sink while she showers. I'm so ready for bed at this point. I'm the kind of tired where I'm fully conscious but a lot of things just don't seem to merit a response.

Finally, thankfully, completely I fall into bed and wait to fall asleep. I'm too tired to wait. I want instant sleep. I don't remember when it finally happens but it does.

Yee haw!

- BuddhaDave

Whatever I Picked Would Be Wrong

Today's weather is scattered and irritable with slight chances of dark showers.

I don't want to be here today. Today I want to be out in the parking lots propped against the metal beams of the aluminum shades with my pen cut open and my words dripping out onto the paper. It feels like a sharing day.

I was afraid of this song for so long. It was horribly close what I was doing at that time. You played it once while you drove. I remember feeling you were leveling it at my chest like a gun. It wasn't a sharing thing. It was a Look What You're Doing thing.

I liked the tune by hated the song. Listening to it now has me revisiting my most painful behavior and I should be writing it all down. But I'm e-mailing agreement requests instead. Today my stomach muscles won't relax.

I want to ease your mind, so don't take anything I write here to heart. Its my tissue; better out than in.

- TheDave

Chocogoth

I am Jack's Disillusioned Sadness. I am one of the Depressed Kids.

Even if I do get what I think I want it won't satisfy me for long. I'll either be without what I want or not satisfied by it for my entire life. Everthing I'll ever love will reject me or die.

I want to rebel against all the things I think I need. I want to burn them to the ground. I want to break them.

I just feel so done. Time to shave my head, grab some robes and a bowl and start walking. Stupid world.

I know I only write when I'm down. I'm not like this all the time, ask anyone who knows me. But getting it out helps get it away. I'm not thinking about getting things out of me when I'm happy.

- Dave

If I stumbled on my own blog, I'd be laughing at the Emo-wannabe author.

Yes, I'm A Mom On The Internet

This weekend I've been reading like crazy. I started and finished Fight Club in about a day and started on another book called Diary by the same author. It's got this creepy vibe going on like mad. I'm enjoying it, Chuck has a style I really like. I am Jack's Sarcastic Dark Humor.

Anyway, in Diary one character asks another character the following questions which supposedly give a view into your subconscious. I asked Hyd these questions and the answers seemed accurate to me!

Its important to go with the first things that pops into your head and not think about your answers.

Pick a color. Any color. The first one that comes to mind.
Describe that color in three words.

Pick any animal, the first one you think of.
Describe that animal in three words.

Pick a body of water.
Describe it in three words.

You're in a white room with no doors and no windows.
Describe in three words how you feel in this room.

Visit the link below only after you've picked your answers. They won't be accurate otherwise.

Answers.

- BuddhaDave

I am stupid, and all I do is want and need things.
-Fight Club, pg. 146

I Take Pictures!

And sometimes they look nice.



And somtimes, just sometimes, I look nice too.

- BuddhaDave

Full Moon Confession - 06

What the hell happened today? I should just be happy I remembered to fast but man I could not stay on course to save my life. I'm surprised I got anything done. Oh yeah, its probably because I haven't had my lazy half-assed ass on a cushion in over two weeks. I'm a baaaaad man. On with the show.

I drank on Saturday on purpose and more than just a pull from a friend's beer to make sure my body still hated liquor. It seems it hates beer but not bourbon. I drank two short glasses of coke and bourbon. I got the first starts of feeling funny and then stopped. I think the greasy pizza helped cushion the blow. Pineapple and cheese pizza is my new favorite.

I've been "flying solo" a lot more than I should. I'm sorry, its a weakness. I just have a lot of love in me trying to get out. One day I will get a handle on it, and not in the literal sense. I'll show you Hyd! I could too make it in a monastery!

I've been having mean thoughts about people lately. Usually this doesn't happen; it's either good thoughts or indifference (which isn't something to brag about) but the past two weeks have played host to many unskillful thoughts about my fellow man and friends. Sometimes I'm tricked into thinking its okay because I've been hurt, but that's just BS. Forgive me, I know what I do but I wish I didn't do it.

Sloth is the big one this time around. The TV has teamed up with my cornucopia of DVDs and I haven't been reading, writing, or anything else starting with an R sound (except pirating) for at least two weeks. I have too many good movies. Ass, I'm sorry I've been making you work so much. Books, note- and otherwise, sorry for neglecting you. I'll try to do better. Next time I hear, "Hey, lets watch a movie..." in that black cavern they call my brain I'll say, "Hey, lets not and pretend we did."

I haven't been anything resembling a good practicioner in a long time. Usually I had the safety-net of at least always reading something spiritual but I've bought some fiction books and magazines and have been running my eyeballs over them instead. No mediation, no zen center, no Buddhist books. Just drifting around. It has fully taken its awful toll. I can't believe I used to be like this all the time.

I told myself I just needed a rest and I'd be refreshed. Let the batteries re-charge while I snacked on Hammett books and movies. This is not the case. A rest soon becomes a break which then turns into trial separation and then full on divorce. I'm a mess. I have no gumption. One day it will be too much and I'll kick my own ass into getting started again. Hopefully its tomorrow.

I think that's good, its dinner time.

- BuddhaDave

Did you notice, I didn't talk to you at all today?

Happy Birthday, Teacher

Celebrate with me the birthday of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Today he is 71 years old.



Do something peaceful, smile at people like there was no tomorrow, and laugh often!

- BuddhaDave

Arguing On the Internet...

...Is like competing in the Special Olympics: Even if you win you're still retarded.

Even so, I think this is worth mentioning.

If you read the Health section of Google News you've probably seen articles about the Surgeon General stating things like "the debate is over" about the affects of second-hand smoke.

However some people are saying his report is ridiculous and based on "junk science".

I'm not gonna say I know one way or the other, but I think its important to take things with a grain of salt and not just roll over and believe something because the guv'ment says so.

I think we tend to forget that all governments are really just a collection of self-interested people after their own aims with a tragically tiny smattering of heroes actually in it for the people.

- BuddhaDave

Life Imitates Art

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay,
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is---Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

-Shel Silverstein

'Cept I think when I get home I'll still just lay around.

- Buddhadave