a town full of madmen

i went to the drug store the other day to pick up a prescription for my grandmother...as usual there was quite a line of vagabonds, geezers, and crazies in front of me...as i waited and watched the strange old man at the counter utterly confused and gesticulating wildly, i realized why i try to avoid people...he was strange, with a misshapen face due mostly to the position of his nose, somewhat sideways and indented...he was merely dropping off a prescription, but it took him twenty minutes to do so...he was speaking in strange tongues foreign to my sane ears, and although he was old, he was not a victim of age (when the senses dull and fold, or rise to a point where dying is the only option, so as not to embarrass yourself any longer)...no, he was simply and unequivocally mad...as he walked away, to which all of us line-standers breathed i sigh of relief, he was still speaking...as if the counter clerk even cared..."alright, i guess i will wait for the prescription, and maybe look around the store for a bit...do you have a snack bar [chuckles, and waddles up to another counter worker and again]...do you have a snack bar? [evidently funny enough for another go round]"...and finally the strange man with the strange face and even stranger eyes sits down and grabs a hold of himself...i shift my attention back on the fact that i am finally one person closer completing my goal...however i cannot help but glance again over to the strange man, and much to my horror i notice that he is wearing slippers...now normally this would not bother me, but you see there was only one other person in that pharmacy, hell probably in any public domain mentally corrupt enough to be wearing slippers...i glanced down at my own feet, and yes, as you might have guessed...that madman was me...

tallboys and recess

i went to the liquor store today...i was craving beer...just the other night someone mentioned tallboys to me and of course i hadn't had one of them since chicago...not that i could get old style in tallboys out here on the coast, but it did get me thinking about hops and barley swimming around happily in my skull, destroying every brain cell they came across...the entire liquor store experience would have been alright except for the fact that the girl behind the counter is always working when i am buying and she has a strange fascination with the weather...usually she comments on days that i like...if it is an overcast day she will say 'enjoy the weather' in a sarcastic tone...conversely, if it is warm and sunny (the type of day i do not enjoy) she will express regret for not being able to share it...this is not polite conversation, she is truely obsessed with the weather...and most days i agree with her because she is very nice and i do not want to rock the boat...but today i replied truthfully...it was a cold, rainy day and she said, "try and enjoy the day"...i replied, "i like overcast days like this"...and i said it sincerely...she replied, "that is the saddest thing i have ever heard"...she did not reply in that manner because of what i said, but how i said it...and that is what hurt...i was trying to make conversation, and open up a little and i ended up unintentionally making her sad...i could not fake my way through this conversation, and she could immediately perceive the melancholy in my tone...it seems that over the course of my entire life, i have caused sadness and conflict by simply existing...my intentions are almost always good but in any situation my sheer presence causes sadness...also, every time i am in the liquor store i seem to be wearing the same pants...that makes me uncomfortable...if only i could convince people of my true benevolent intentions, and occasionally remember to change my pants...life would be bliss...

another night of window shopping

here we are rolling around in a dream...the actors are everywhere...out in the open and in the shadows...can you believe who is running the world?...of course you can't...people are dying everyday, and everyday before and every day since...the innocent, the guilty, the old, the new-born...and where's it going...where's it been...it is an extreme nowhere...i sit dreaming, staring out the window, into the wind and snow...out to the western mounts, to the eastern shores...i can see a brief reflection of my shattered ashes in the window...the movement of life is corrupting and engulfing me...whatever my brain wants to acknowledge...how much do i want to let in...in the end, rows of caskets draped with flags don't make a bit of difference...because these days the night stretches on forever, and there is nothing that can be done...you cannot control nature, human or otherwise...just tilt your head back and search the stars...'cause nothing is coming and nothing has been...so next time you are walking home slow to the sparrow's call...remember that this is life and that's all...

the flight of the angels

ahh yes...i remember the first time i was in switzerland...it is one of those lines that seems utterly ridiculous...like i should be sipping brandy, sporting a mustache, and wearing a pith helmet...but this story has no trace of the privliged...i was sitting on a park bench in bern feeling utterly shit-i-fied...drained of everything human or lifelike...my sideburns sagged as the camel cigarettes wore down to my yellowed fingers...i looked to the pack as i smoked...'american blend' it said...evidently the swiss had something against the turks...because as every good camel smoker knows here in the great land of opportunity all packs read proudly 'turkish and american blend'...but on this night i hardly noticed...i was beaten...i was ruined...not in any real sense but in a sense none the less...i sat quietly speaking to the sky...'it would be nice to have some company'...and then like a dream she came...sitting quietly on the park bench asking me for a light in german...or was it french...either way i did not understand and made a few gestures like an idiot relating the point...it was only after she had lit her cigarette that i knew what she wanted...i waited on the other end of the bench like a moron until she finished her cigarette...then i apologized to her in a bumbling manner, explaining in english that i did not understand her...she slid near pulling another cigarette from her pocket, offering up the end for me to light...this was it...i dont know who you are, but i, though not a bad looking individual, do not have women approach me on park benches unless they are whores looking for money...but here it was...all in front of me, on a strange night in bern...she, carved out of the finest scapes of poland...put here in switzerland tonite to talk to me...to comfort me from the darkness closing fast...i loved her that night, my sweet eliza...and never have forgotten...angels do exist, if only for an instant...but hey, we all exist, if only for an instant...

winfield park

its late in the evening and i am thinking about my grandfather...he died last december and i always felt horrible that i never gave him a proper eulogy...nor did anyone...you see we were all too devastated...he was not a vain man, but would have appreciated a few words...so i will give you a few thoughts on him now...

my grandfather, only raised his voice to me once...i was young, and undoubtedly doing something completely annoying...i do not remember what it was but i most certainly enjoyed it...i was used to getting yelled at for the most minute of actions, but being yelled at by him was something foreign to me...his subtlety is what assumed respect...and this was the beauty of my grandfather...he didnt demand respect but he always received it...i remember after he got alzheimers, he did not recognise me as his grandson...but he did recognise me...he used to say 'i know you, i like you, you are always helping me out'...alzheimers will take away your ability to recognise loved ones, but not your ability to recognise love...goodness is impossible to transcend...whatever illness is thrust upon you, peace is understood...i miss him...even in the throes of his disease he could pick up a guitar and play a song from years passed...remember the haunting chords of the country...nothing important is ever forgotten...he always reminds me of the lines, "then maybe when we meet someday i will know you"...he knew it and we do too, he's awake and we're still dreaming...

good friends lost...

christmas has come and gone once again...and for me the season was full of highs and lows...the high point being chrismas eve, up till five in the morning playing poker, drinking white russians, watching skin-a-max, and tempting fate...and the lows being old friends cashing it in for a few hours of pleasantness, crappy movies, and a tenth of a penny...but hey, times change, and people revert back to where they belong...its not about people changing too much, its about them going towards their nature which is quite disturbing but also quite natural...i've been fighting for them for many years but it is now too late and i am too tired...i suppose i can only stick to the few that will continue the course towards enlightenment...and leave the rest to their own devices...successful/unsuccessful, married/unmarried, they will all be characters in memory...god help 'em all...

last year's vomit

hello my faithful readers...i am sorry i took a holiday hiatus but i am back with much to lament...however you will have to wait slightly longer...i thought it would be nice to look back at this year's blogs and find my favourite...although it was a tough choice (because i am a legend in my own mind) i think my favourite was 'a hymn to garbage' with 'day and night in the city' coming in a close second...which was yours?...maybe you will give me a comment with your favourite?...maybe not...when i feel more inspired i will write about my recent escapades...i assure you i have much material but am in the grips of literary laziness...so come back soon and often and tell me via comments which blogs of the past year you enjoyed and which you despised...and remember, here in the frozen countryside my light is always on for you...