Rounding the Darkside and in the Home Stretch

It has been said that no man ever really feels his own mortality as vibrantly as he does after his father dies. I am here to affirm this, at least, in my case it hit me like a ton of bricks the second I hung up from "the call" from my sister Kathy this past April 14th at about 3:30pm PST. I gasped for a breath and slowly emoted a low howling cry the a few tears but I beyond exhaling at that exact point in time that the whole process of moaning and crying at this expected news was choaked out like a 4 barrel hit with too rich a blend of nitrous. Days passed with only small waves of total and utter panic that would overcome me at the thought of living out from under the protective shadow of my Father's simple existence. Pop had always been the toughest SOB I knew in real life or in fiction. Nobody was tougher, more obstinate, more instintualy correct about everything he spoke of for he only spoke in facts. He only thought in factual black and white. There was no room for gray areas or colors in his world. It was as if he only had a binary emotional range and even though I saw the colors and gray areas all around his logic from a very early age, I took solace in the certainty of his convictions.

Full Cycle and No Further Ahead Really

I recently came into contact again with my first love and wife Colleen Hendrick after nearly 30 years of no contact whatsoever and I realized that although I've been in many subsequent relationships since then that I'm no further ahead at understanding women or my love/hate relationships with them.

The Death of My Father

Image via WikipediaThey say when a man's father passes it is transformational unlike any other loss he may suffer. I'm here writing this 1o days after my Pop passed quietly in his sleep at the age of 89 so it's hard to be angry or think he got less than a full ride in this life for he got extra miles that most don't and he is now in a better place. As I documented in the companion to this blog, "A Caregiver's Silence" I had said my "I'm sorrys" and "I forgive yous" to Pop during the six and a halfs I was his caregiver. I cried off and on the first few days and now it just comes in waves when I see something of his or remember he's no longer with us. It's not overwhelming as I had imagined it would be. I will go to his memorial service and speak about his life and our relationship and probably blubber like a baby doing so but that's ok.

I just miss him.

Related articles

• Father, into thy hands I commend my Spirit (thepauls.wordpress.com)
• Coping with the loss of a loved one and/or friend (cremation-cost.org)
• Death is dead. (lookingcloser.org)

I Will Buy You a New Life...if only

First Song - Charlie Hayden

Aging in high speed mode

Getting outta Dodge....Now

The past 24 hrs has proven to myself that I've truly reached new depths of self degradation as the blur of negative behaviors and associated is like a cacophony of depravity with many old and new characters whom only serve to reflect their own inner pain into mine which doesn't need any assistance at this point. I visited a deadly and lascivious old succubus drug of choice from the past today as I bought myself some grave site bouquets and used them in a back alley room with all light sources card boarded out with a veteran soldier of Ollie North's gift to the ghettos of our land....once the biggest of them all now only a shell of it's former glory much as those left still using it....was a trip down bad memory lane and actually served to only reconfirm that even after a decade or so of dormancy the gorilla's been back there doing push ups all along.

Visited with a new positive and understanding friend who fed me and listened and cared what I had to say which was pure heaven and proof there there is yet hope for a new life so thanks to the tuna wielding bright spot of the day....can't promise anything other than continued mutual admiration at this juncture but you , the critters and meal preparation reviews were all very positive and appreciated.

So a surprising call last night...

I was wondering could I borrow your car tomorrow?

You mean the one I live in?

One Week Ago This Evening My Life Changed

I for the first time in my life suffered a brain seizure while at home, no warning, no precursor in my 52 years of living. Rushed to one hospital via paramedics, CT Scans, xrays, liver panels and other tests came up blank. Then I volunteered a history of substance abuse (none in almost a week prior to occurrence) and the entire level of treatment went through the floor at the 1st hospital. So badly was I treated by this ignorant "PA" that I threatened to hurt him if he did not release me "AMA" immediately...more later...very catch as catch can right now living a mobile life now homeless and living in my car, Kinkos and all night restaurants which there aren't many in Phoenix....every notice that? Been one hell of a week.

She Said....for Lisa

She said "I know what it's like to be dead.

I know what it is to be sad"

And she's making me feel like I've never been born.

I said "Who put all those things in your head?

Things that make me feel that I'm mad

And you're making me feel like I've never been born."

She said "you don't understand what I said"

I said "No, no, no, you're wrong"

When I was a boy everything was right

Everything was right

I said "Even though you know what you know

I know that I'm ready to leave

'Cause you're making me feel like I've never been born."

She said "you don't understand what I said"

I said "No, no, no, you're wrong"

When I was a boy everything was right

Everything was right

I said "Even though you know what you know

I know that I'm ready to leave

'Cause you're making me feel like I've never been born."

She said , she said "I know what it's like to be dead"

("I know what it's like to be dead")

I know what it is to be sad...

Life Before Insanity

All I see are faces, a sea of faces

Surrounded by the memory of life before insanity

Hard to explain the hunger, if you don't feel it

What I really need is your breath raining on my skin

And I'm so tired, tired of feeling sorry for myself

And I want more

All I feel are clouds, surrounded by clouds

Yesterday's anger is the sadness of today

Our lives were filled with summer and laughter

Now our smiles are grey

Once I held you close, now my thoughts just drift like the wind

Can you feel it, can you feel it

Can you feel it, can you feel it

Coming down

And I'm so tired, tired of feeling sorry for myself

And I want more, got me wanting more

Night keep falling, and the wind keep calling my name

All I see are faces, a sea of faces

Surrounded by the memory of life before insanity

Hard to explain the hunger, if you don't feel it

What I really need is your breath raining on my skin

If it weren't obvious to anyone out there...

...I'm tore up and badly mangled and just made the decision to once again check-in to the VA for medical and mental help. See ya when I swing around the dark side of the moon.

Spring 2011 - This is not my beautiful life!

The first thing that occurs to one in the midst of a cathartic period of reflection is that they are living some sort of life that is not by choice. Perhaps by initial choice but somewhere along the line the lifestyle takes over on autopilot and after a while the person gets a minute to reflect upon what it was they had indented and compare it to what's currently going on and sees a vast difference almost as if they were walking around, living and experiencing someone else's life. It is only when the two existences become so diametrically opposed to one another that the individual can no longer continue on without a period of deep reflection in order to set a new marker buoy to place out there to set course toward and adjust the tack on their rudder towards the new destination...

Pulp This Is Hardcore Live

Lyrics | Pulp lyrics - This Is Hardcore lyrics

The Root of My Problems

There have been several people in my lifetime that upon meeting them for the first time that have recoiled in fear for no apparent reason and I've always just blown it off. Then a few years ago when I was stranded with a broken down car in the middle of New Mexico and old native american woman  sat down on a curb and spoke to me as I was washing blood off my grill (jackrabbit) which was a sinister looking black Chrysler 300 with limo tint windows and rims that looked like saw blades that also had two very real bullet holes in the rear quarter panel....I was on the run. Anyway, she walked up to me and greeted me with a pleasant manor and called me a "Dibbick" which I have researched as follows:

In Jewish folklore, a dybbuk (Hebrew: דיבוק‎) is a malicious or benevolent^[1] possessing spirit believed to be the dislocated soul of a dead person.^[2]

Dybbuks are said to have escaped from Sheol or to have been turned away for serious transgressions, such as suicide, for which the soul is denied entry^{[citation needed]}. The word "dybbuk" is derived from the Hebrew דיבוק, meaning "attachment"; the dybbuk attaches itself to the body of a living person and inhabits the flesh. According to belief, a soul that has been unable to fulfill its function during its lifetime is given another opportunity to do so in dybbuk form. It supposedly leaves the host body once it has accomplished its goal, sometimes after being helped.

I don't know but when I'm bad, it's as if I am someone else....

Lonesome Tears

Lonesome tears
I can't cry them anymore
I can't think of what they're for
Oh they ruin me every time
But I'll try
To leave behind some days
These tears just can't erase
I don't need them anymore

How could this love
Ever turning
Never turn its eye on me
How could this love
Ever changing
Never change the way I feel

Lazy sun
Your eyes catch the light
With promises that might
Come true for a while
Oh I'll ride
Farther than I should
Harder than I could
Just to meet you there

How could this love
Ever turning
Never turn its eye on me
How could this love
Ever changing
Never change the way I feel

Been So Long

Since I was me, myself, I

The one that I liked

I am not the man I am

Or am I?

More are telling me I am

Calling me out

Can they all be right?

Can I be as they say?

Been a while

Not much new...well there is but not much I care to talk about.

Healing Journey - The Journal

A Healing Journey - The Journal

 

 

A Healing Journey - The Journal

For use with Voice of the Angels - A Healing Journey Spiritual Cards, "The Journal" is for recording each time the cards are used.

For each of the twelve different Spans, there are twelve lined and detailed spaces for recording what cards were drawn, the card meanings, and their corresponding interpretations. One is able to maintain a daily or monthly record and progress for each Span. In this way a useful account of transformation can be easily referred to. By using The Journal a person can see progress and transformation right in front of them. It is an important and tangible part of the Healing Journey as it helps integrate mind, body, and spirit.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Like the Clash song of the same title as this post I find myself in a quandry over deciding to stay here in Phoenix or to return to California and go back to work in real estate with an old partner and friend of over 20 years. This is a very dear friend of mine who's more like a brother to me than my own biological brothers but also one of dubious moral character. I don't say that in a mean spirited way at all for, if anything, I encouraged, aided and abetted him in most of the illicit behaviors and nameless activities the two of us embarked upon for a great number of years during the late 80's through the late 90's and in fact he was the "stable" one of the duo always having to get up in the middle of the night to bail me out of jail after I had poured him into bed passed out cold, swiped a few c-notes out of his money clip and stolen his car and sped off into the night to places, people and activities that wind a person in jail....and rightly so!

Now that I've been released from probation and am free to leave the state there is an opportunity to return to California to rebuild the real estate consulting firm that I founded in 1990 and later turned over to this partner in 1996 when I moved up to Northern CA to work with my biological brother on his vineyard/winery which I did for seven years along with my vintage guitar business. I had also become involved with a woman up there in what would prove to be the longest relationship of  of my life (to date).. Then in the fall of 2002 my father suffered a stroke that left him partially parylyzed at the age of 80 and I dropped everything to come to Phoenix to care for him for what I thought was to be a mattter of a few months that was to turn out to be the next 6 years of my life. I have chronicled much of those years in this blog....

A Caregiver's Silence

This blog is really the precursor to A Divine Catharsis and since I've closed that chapter in my life and picked it up here I thought it only fitting that I link it back here for continuity's sake. Between the two blogs any reader(s) gets a fairlly detailed look at the past seven years of my life leading up to my current situation.