Relativity Fest

By Scary Halloween 

They call me Mister Sir. 

I'm a steam rolling snow ball ever expanding in a  full throttle trajectory into a steering abyss of blunders, mishaps, tragedy and laughter. 

The stuff from which  impulse is made of, the crawling itch under  skin, a  burning singularity  in the brain that hurls the mind to the precipice of gratification. 

However, when the leap is taken, it loses its allure quickly . In fact, immediately. 

Very instantaneously , based on initial trajectory, weight, acceleration and of course distance. 

Although what might seem a lifetime regretting during the leap, it ends in the fleeting moment of initial decision.  

Only one thing to do before the grinding halt, leap again.

I Wish My Name Was Frank Cause I'd Like To Be

By Scoundrel Ghost

all the time.
Seems honest, efficient.
It's those "feelings"

we have that are so important
that get in the way.

If I said to a bartender, 

"I'm drinking, not in charm school.  Unless your going to feel me up, shut up and pour".
I'd have to watch every drink's perpetration after that. 

No, " I gotcha buddy."

More like 

"I will  get you. asshole. "

Personally, I would like to be directly, honestly and succinctly spoken to.
It's my lack of feelings that gives me the rewards of indifference. 

Humphrey Bogart's character, Rick Blaine in Casablanca summed up indifference best when he said ,
" Everybody has problems, maybe yours will work out."

Here is another time when I said what was on my mind. 

"If you will just touch it, this  will all be over and we can go home,"

Now that didn't go over like I thought it would. 

Followed with, 

"Really? What's the problem ? "

Then,

"One who waits who hesitates will be TOO late. "

Very quickly I found myself explaining to police that this was not my van and it belonged to a friend's mom. But I didn't know his last name. Or hers. 

Oh well. All is well that doesn't end in serving time again. 

Usually, I find my frankness when I've lost my ability articulate. Fortunately, most of what slurs thickly out of my mouth falls into the roaring noise of the bar or the numbed eardrums of those around me. 

But occasionally, it registers. 

That's when I offer that they were mistaken. I'm a gentleman. 

And if they want the cops here, I know them quite well and they will be happy to take us all for cheese sandwiches. 

One again indifference favors the fool.

It is such a shame born with two livers and only one bladder

By Scary Halloween 

God works in mysterious ways. To me that means he is a perverse deity with a precise, delicious, awe inspiring sense of humor. 

I love him for that.  I hate him for that. 

It's hilarious really how much time and energy we spend fretting, fighting living in fear. Obsessed in the pursuit for wealth, power and junk when we live such short momentary lives. So fleeting, seems like our time would be best spent elsewhere. 

But no. 

You, me. We actually think we own the physical objects around us that we have painstakingly accumulated. 

To what end to what means?
For security, self image?
To fill feeling?

Sentimentality is just that. Clinging to the physical to connect to a feeling a memory is odd to me.  Why not just connect. By pass the junk.

Now what I really wanted to discuss is God's ( in our eyes FAVORITE) mistake. Us. Humans. 

What a pretentious bunch of assholes. When you look at us, one can only rationally decide we are his Ebola or sitcom.
If not, then God is a drunkard. I can live with that.

Can you?

Regardless, for my sanity, I think it is laughter he is after. 

If not, God help himself and us all. 

I can only handle a certain level of crazy before I go mad.

By Scoundrel Ghost

Same with a pretentious irritating voice yapping on and on. It never shuts up unless it gets a beating it deserves. 

I would like to intellectually slice him up then physically beat him down. What an asshole to ruin my 5th gimlet. 

Assholes. They are everywhere. 

The other night I noticed a show, Celebrity Hauntings. For god sakes. I've never been haunted except by my past. 

How is it that these 3rd rate celebrities, one after another has been haunted? 

Attention, desperation, needy liars. 

Ghost hauntings?

There are enough assholes in this world,

 I don't need one from another dimension annoying me like this piss ant at the corner of the bar.

I know all he knows means nothing in the end. but now myself sitting alone with my gimlet while he is surrounded by hot chicks hanging on his every gratingly delivered word, haunts me. Asshole. 

Ripples, Fractals and Cycles

By Pretty Alice

I know now what I didn't know then. 

Then 

when I lived on the Earth. I'm grateful I remember that life and I do not regret the fear I knew there for now I know love. 

For all that time I spent there on that plane of existence

 I could have chosen love 

as easily as I chose fear.

I was  what I fed. 

Love or Fear is an ever expanding repeating  cycle. 

As it is in the universe it is so within us. 

It is as you or I choose to believe. You can withdraw in a cold frozen stone or ripple out to an expansive wave of giving and receiving. 

The time here is short, do with it what you will.
I was given a gift I did not earn, to have memory of one life to the other.

All that will remain of you is the memory in someone else's head and hopefully the love with which you filled their heart. 

It's Not How You Got There, It's Where You Go From Here

By Scary Halloween

I hate the reality of my acceptance. 

Accept or Deny,  It is a choice. 

Of course I could continue to play with the little endless game of pong in my head. 

Bleep.             Accept.          Bleep.

 Deny.            Bleep.             

You get the image. 

Occasionally, I recognize that pride is a dangerous thing,and  with that comes ignorance, vanity, and a total complete lack of understanding of self and others. 

Living healthy spiritually, physically, mentally and emotionally requires a daily ever 

vigilant focus of internalizing processing and acting.  

That is exhausting on the front end,

at first it seems  much easier to let chaos take hold, but I find 

more difficult on the back end. 

Way more difficult. 

My problem is that the shitty mundane routine of aspects of life gets  in the way of higher pursuits.  Even pulling back the shower curtain every morning goes through me like nails on a chalk board. Thank technology for dry erase boards. Kids don't know how good they have it today. 

So I let these things of life distract me weaken me into fear and then anger so that pride insidiously leaks out from my dark core and consumes me as a bottomless hole.  A dark deep black engulfed fathom  that festers to  a case of the fuck its, fuck you, fuck me mother fucking fuck. 

And that whole hole has to be fed 

Thats when I think I need some sparkles, I need bobbles, something shinny to brighten, to bring light to the black, to bring nourishment in the form of  self indulgence.
You know the adage ,

" Starve the body feed the hole feed the disease."

Only one thing to do, I must go see
doctor Distraction. He lives in
the bottom of a 

bottle. 

And as I stated,

It's Not How I Got Here It's  How I Get To There. 

Julie Falls

By Pretty Alice

Beautiful how water falls, but heart wrenching
when she falls
It is in my nature to be her net
torn, ripped by the velocity of her
inconsolable unavoidable inevitable plummet.

I envision that she could fall so deep that through the Earth she would rise  on the other side.  On top like a beatiful weed flower, strong, determined
that pushes up through the layers of rock, and dirt
encased in  black asphalt.

There is no tangible to why I am connected to a particular thing about her.

Maybe it is her relentless self torture, pain
that I want to heal.
Foolish me to love my mother I feel in her.
Vulnerable always pulls me in, then clinches me in my illusion
an inescapable vice.

If I have a problem
it is empathy
 as I look to her from where I am now and although I cannot live in her world
 it ensures
 I am not a fool
except for Julie
when she falls
because I fall too.

But I hold on from my own need,
a voice pursues in the back of my minds' eye
that every eventual encounter
will still be tarnished by the feelings of Julie
when she is falling.

A Moment Of Clarity

By Scary Halloween

I met a man on the streets of Chicago. 

This is what he said:

I never planned on being a drunkard.

It's not like when I was 5 and someone asked me what I want to be when I grow up that Ianswered "a drunkard".

I probably said nothing, shrugged in indifference and walked away. 

Even then I would not placate myself or waste my time to placate others. Sure now I know how to diffuse, distract and tell someone what they want to hear to get them off my back. I'm quite the diplomat. A skilled avoider. A magician of masquerade.

But truly a person knows them self, when they are in their element. When clarity engulfs them like a professional athlete surpassing the opponent , an accountant trimming the waste, a lawyer fighting a case or a actor perfecting a portrayal.

But we gravitate to our nature, what we were meant to be regardless of our potential for other endeavors. 

We find our way. I don't cry for Lindsey Lohan. She was side tracked. Still fighting her nature she should embrace the person that doesn't want to act but be the person that wants to live. 

I'm not making an excuse. Don't think I am giving up, I am choosing not to be anything of society but a man with his thoughts, beliefs and actions marinated in the numbing foggy veil of alcohol.

And with that to thine oneself be true I can rest gently nestled in acceptance without regret, remorse or self doubt of what could have been, what should have been but rather what is.  

International Day Of Peace 2012

By Scoundrel Ghost

I could use a  piece of some international today. 

Problem with peace, people just can't give it a chance at the same time. 

Now me, I don't have a problem hating. 

It has been said what one hates in others is a reflection of what one does not like about his or her self. Maybe that is true sometimes, 

but not all the time.

Sometimes people are assholes and it is good to hate them. 

Well for me it is. 

I like a good  heathy heaping attitude of a  resentful  loathing  of hatred.
 Please keep in mind I realize I am the perfect model of who to hate. 

I am an asshole! I spend my time complaining about what I  interpret

to be  the worst of all things on Earth , including myself .

I'm not one of those  who sees myself as better than everyone else.
As a matter of fact it is my indifference and disgust about my life
and all life that keeps me anchored, marred in objective
disappointment. 

It makes me happy
to be so unhappy.
 And in that I love life's irony.

It is like a wise person wrote,

To truly hate others
you must first learn to hate yourself.

PEACE OUT!

Young Men Beware The Peach

By Pretty Alice

For we make our beds that are eventually  the couches we sleep on.

You think to yourself, "I would drink the nectar from her tulip, be quenched in a mesmerized  desire. "

And after? When she loves and the peach has turned to rot?

Lust is about compromise. What you covet today will not be so down the road. 

The end justifies the means but intentions are the begginning.

I'm not destroying myself I'm on hiatus from finding myself

By Scary Halloween

People can only do so much soul searching or paper work before they go simple. 

Occasionally it is necessary to push away from the routine, go off the deep end to remind themselves how and why they started searching. 

A risky necessary action to repetitive perpetual madness of  routine. Interesting the the shallow and deep end eventually produce boredom. 

It's like running back and forth on a seesaw. Not like it is. A seesaw of extremes of sanity to insanity.  One side is the pinch to know we are alive the other side is a pinch to recognize we are still alive. 

In the end, for me, I'm tired of pinching myself. 

We all do wrong things for the right reasons, right?

By Scoundrel Ghost

I had  large bag of Doritos and an umbrella to my name as this vehicle  not of my captianage  is twisting to a 180,
 the wet street is glimmering
the lights of reflection of my life of misadventure
a swirling around in a ring of pinpoint laser perception.

Whipped to an abrupt stop. Alive.

The coast is clear.

Once again unto and through the breach 

Never mind. I survived.

A 360 in my book once we righted our vector.

No harm no foul. 

Set course forward, warp speed.

Fries before whores

By Pretty Alice

That title by Scoundrel Ghost, crude as it is, I concur.

I once lived in the physical plane.  I too knew the need the desire for sustenance and nurturing from outside. 

It is part of the human experience. But to what end, to what means?

To fill the hole from outside or from within? 

Food, shelter, love are the basic requirements.

Those requirements 

can 

free us

Or

bind us.

Intention is everything.

Fries nor whores will  fill 

the bottomless pit of despair 

That hole in you, filled from

within

can be a mountain 

a monolith 

a precipice 

to a whole new you.

That blimp is a horrid thing.

By Scoundrel Ghost

Sure the Hindenburg was a tragic event.  However.

The loud domineering obnoxious she blimp I saw hovering over this Jack Sprat barking out orders should burn and crash to the ground .  In a desolated area far from life and earthquake prone Earth. 

Seriously. There comes a point when I must judge because there hasn't been a point when someone hasn't killed themselves. It is a mistake on my part to  expect that some spoiled  cellulose bloated  self important narcissistic swollen whale would either shut the fuck up or remove herself from existence. 

Foolish me. Now I'm no adonis by any means. But I speak when spoken to and I know who I am and my place in the world.

And what happened in Jack Sprat's life that he would be her moon.  Is he trapped in some gravitational orbit of self loathing or financial dependency? Who could know.  Maybe it is true love. Maybe he is Jesus fucking Christ. I guess we all have our crosses to bare. 

Religion will make you horny and rebellious. Thank God.

By Scary Halloween

Scoundrel Ghost went to church camp. Came back a  horny girl chasing Tasmanian devil , free of pent adolescent frustrations and with a honed distaste for rules. I on the other hand never new organized religion. That being said,

Occasionally a friend will tell me they feel ashamed or guilty. I ask them what advice would they give to a loved one if they were feeling the same? 

Why is it we can give kindness to others but not ourselves?

I think it is because we follow someone else's code of morals of right or wrong rather than our own. I prefer to view our actions as healthy or unhealthy. I don't believe in sin but I do believe in forgiveness of self and others. 

Beelzebub in the gastropub

By Scoundrel Ghost

I am from the adrunkee tribe. They call me one who drinks with two livers. 

I know that is not politically correct.
That is why I wrote it.
I'm not political. I think that is an offensive term.

I'm so insulted.

My parents didn't fuck so that I have to be someone's
bitch.

If I can't express my thoughts without offending
you I am so not sorry.

You can say whatever you want to me. I really don't care.

That is the thing. I don't care and I can't imagine why you would.

It probably comes down to your self importance.
If I thought for one second that I have some significance over
you i would smash you like the troll you are.

I would rather you take you take your overly sensitive
soap box tie a rope around your neck, secure the other end to a immovable object
and kick that bullshit of a pulpit
Out
From under your feet. 

Have a nice day. 

Whether you agree or disagree, it doesn't matter to me.

By Pretty Alice

I learned that the language of love is.
And
The language of argument isn't.

You can believe or disbelieve.
It is not for me to convince you, only to listen
and share and listen.

After my transformation love is all there is
for me
and the experience of the celestial plane.

I died. I returned transformed.
The only argument I had was with myself.
The only solution was to let go.

So if we ever meet, I hope you will
approach with kindness. But,
if you can't it doesn't t matter to me if don't.

That is your journey.

I have just a few loose ends to tie up to secure my place in hell.

By Scoundrel Ghost

Jesus fried tacos. I miss the days when I could sit at a bar and not hear someone order a beer that didn't have 3 names like a serial killer. 

"I want a John Wayne Gacey and 2 Henry Lee Lucases". 

Citrus moon barely. WTF?

I don't want vegetables in my meat or fruit in my beer.

Here I sit old and in the way. Bothered by the changing times.
What's the point in looking back? 
Longing for what is gone or to redo a time in ones life?

Case in point, The worst thing that happened in my marriage was cell phones. But I had to have one. Of course I always wanted monogamy without the invasion of my privacy. Didn't foresee that complication.Being a person who liked ultimatums open ended and unconditional I guess it was a natural oversight in RETROSPECT!

So why spend time in hindsight or retrospect when I don't learn from it?

"Damn I ate before coming to the bar".  

What am I  to do, but move on and drink through it. 

Now you might  scoff at me, you perched high on your  lofty artsy pretentious village with your ridiculous over priced accommodations as the right wing  of a left loon  cries  out in its pain, a rebounding echo  throughout the  eclectic upper middle pretentious white class reserve of a neighborhood. 

Life is trial and error,

doing and having.

For me? 

I would rather be challenged than placated. Always.

Example: From childhood if you told me "no"  I did it because I was told "no" because I wanted to know "no".

I have always had a  powerful lure  to push a button, flip a switch, or pull a lever that I don't know what the result wil be. 

I must see what happens. No matter the cost, I close my eyes, tense up, turn my head and.......

in that I have learned  there is no good timing when you are an asshole

You Can Believe It But That Is Your Problem

By Scoundrel Ghost

Tonight I go into my silky womb a beautiful caterpillar to emerge tomorrow a dirty beige moth of no consequence. Ta fucking Da!!!   For that is really the way it is. Not everyone can be the president of the USA or an astronaut . Figure out what you can be and most importantly want to be. 

You know this whole idea, this complete lie that is sold to us by society that you are not beautiful until you conform to the struggle for wealth, the collection of items, greed lust and power and control  Then you are successful. It's manufactured consent. Work as a machine to serve the state  If you work hard enough  you will be successful.  People work hard everyday. They never end up financially successful. Hopefully that was not their intent, money and power but contentment. Individuality.

As of me the dirty beige moth, well I am of consequence. No more than any other moth but maybe a little more than a Monarch of Wall Street

The Wedding

By Scary Halloween

I'm a simple man. 

This is what I know to be true. We are all beautifully  damaged.  

Rich or poor. 

Impoverished or aristocratic. 

Formally educated or street smart. 

We are all damaged.  

Some are stronger some are weaker in the weight of our damage. 

The secret of this? it is a gift. 

Not to be burdened by our past or strangled in the fear of the unknown, but to exist in the in the moment of being alive, in the Shakespearean truth of above all else to thy own self be true. 

Approach with kindness, compassion, love and struggle of self awareness in the family, the town, the weight of humanity you find yourself given.  

Beyond the manufactured facade of our physical realm there is an aspect, a treasure deeply rooted in the universe that we see in our existence. 

The beauty of being human is in the purpose of our life in the now.