Dustin さんのプロフィールThis Sordid Lifeフォトブログリストその他  |  ツール ヘルプ |
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7月28日 Folding the cards..... Much like the song implies, sometimes, you just have to "know when to fold them". Tonight, I did just that, when I realized I'll just never have any kind of tangible relationship with my mother.
I came home from work tonight, to what only could be described, as the rantings of the lunatic fringe. With every uttered word, describing just what a horrible person I was. Which, when compared to the almost Christ-like diety that is my mother, I could understand how someone could sensibly make that observation. I know I've always been the complete antithesis, of everything my puritan family proclaim to be. I just never thought in my wildest dreams, I was that rotten a person. But apparently, I am.
Unlike her, I'm not going to stoop to her level of immaturity. Although I could write a laundry list of her faults, I will choose not to. At least I admit mine. Unlike herself. I will say this much. After my alcoholic/drug addict father had made up his mind that, at the ripe age of four, I was not fit to be his son, at least he did me the courtesy of leaving. He didn't stick around, to badger me to a suicidal demise.
Sometimes, the Gods kick you right in the balls.
Gh0sT
7月26日 This blog dedicated to Amy's mom..... I get requests all the time. Requests from my family, to get less tattoos. Request from my boss, to work ovetime, and dress down. Requests from my doctor to quit smoking (Hey Doc...NEWSFLASH...I quite smoking, 13 YEARS AGO). But this is a request I'll actually fulfill. And to be perfectly honest, I'm not even sure if I'll fulfill it, in an acceptable and proper fashion. Regardless, here it goes...
Although I haven't known her for a very long time, I will say this: It's certainly a refreshing change, to meet someone like Amy. Especially when you long ago gave up hope, of people such as her ever existing, in modern-day society. Frank openness and honesty, is more valuable to me, than an increase in wage. It becomes a tiresome experience, having to look over your shoulder, with every new acquaintence you acquire. I never feel the need to do that with her. I'm more than comfortable turning my back to her, as I'm of the sufficient belief, I will not need to retrieve a knife from it later on, as a result of her actions. The likes of which I can't even do, with some members of my own family. I'm of the firm belief, never sleep with someone, if you can't sleep NEXT to them. So having said that, I've never had an issue drifting off beside her.
To have someone actually tell me, that my COMPANY is missed, is still a concept I'm having as hard time wrapping my head around. It sounds absurd and rather foreign to my psyche. Much as if someone was to offer me something, as opposed to requesting, or, as was usually the case, demanding something from myself. Occasionally, I still feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall. However, with eash passing day, that feeling becomes more abated. When enough time passes, it will dissipate entirely. In short, you should be proud of the daughter you raised.
For now? I must sign off. As your daughter is phoning me for the umpteenth time today.
P.S.: I know you have a picture of my ass. And as disturbing as I should find that, somehow, I find it somewhat arousing. :)
Currently listening to Amy ramble relentlessly (Not necessairly a BAD thing. Just stating a fact.),
Dustin xxx
7月19日 "Random Thoughts"..... Retail workers should be allowed into support groups. Really. Much like alcoholics or drug addicts subject themselves to self-destructive behaviours, retail slaves subject themselves to extreme masochism, each and every time they go to work. Imagine a retail worker at a support meeting. To his left sits a homeless, 40-year-old drug addict. To his right, a pensionless senior alcoholic. "Hi. My name is ____, and I work in retail.". Both the addict and alcoholic stand up, and proclaim in unison. "Holy S__T! And we thought WE had problems! This poor schmuck works in retail! F__K that! We're CURED! We're OUTTA HERE!".
If you can't find the bathroom, despite the BIG, YELLOW sign on the door that reads "BATHROOM", then I'm sorry: You DESERVE to piss your pants, out of sheer idiocy. And furthermore, you deserve to be laughed at as a result.
Toronto cab drivers: LEARN TO DRIVE. There's a huge difference, between riding a camel through the desert, with nothing to hit for miles, and driving a 4000-pound, cast iron vehicle, on a single lane road, during rush hour, in the most populated city in Canada.
Like them or not, Israel has a right to defend themselves. And if I couldn't board a bus, without the threat of some nutjob running down the asile, with C-4 strapped to his chest, I just might lob missles at the enemy, too.
Metrosexual-homosexual. Is there REALLY a difference? I think not.
Tom Green: Get your NASTY, HAIRY ass OFF my television! We already have enough corruption in politics. Don't urge any more morally bankrupt reprobates, into the political foray, than we already have currently.
People who are selfish and egocentric, should be required by law, to marry only OTHER people, who are selfish and egocentric. Because it's a shame to ruin two households at once.
If "ignorance" was water, this city would be an "ocean".
When people line up at a fast food restaurant, they should be required to place an order, within a 10 second window. If they can't do so, it shows they are obviously NOT that hungry. And henceforth, they should be required to return to the back of the line, in hopes that waiting longer will spurn their appetite along, and cause them to be more decisive the next time around.
And for my FAVORITE gal, AMY S.........This one's for you, babe....:)
7月10日 France beat Italy at soccer?"Fooooooooooooooorgetaboutit!" :)
Besides. When France loses at anything, it's a good day! 7月9日 "Club D1g1Tal Gh0sT" Clubs have what are commonly refered to as "Theme Nights". You've probably heard them. "Toonie Tuesday's....College Night Wednesday's....Freaky Friday's...etc, etc.". They regulate one's social calendar, and primairly act as a unofficial countdown to the weekend. I've begun doing much the same in my life. The most prominent days being "Sin Saturday's", and "Suicide Sunday's".
"Sin Saturday" being refered to as such, because I do everything possible, to disgregard what could be construde, as my almost "Quaker-like" upbringing. Which I'm positive was given with only the best of intentions in mind, but in the long term, has proven itself only to be heartbreakingly impractical, and on more occasions than I can personally recount. Almost all of it: Glorified toiletpaper. Especially in today's society. The most essential ingrediants to Saturday's formula being copious amounts of booze, an assort of other self-destructive behaviours, and finally, the patronizing, of only the seediest of establishments. I see very little difference, between one's choice to self medicate, and a "licensed physician" shelling out drugs like candy. Which essentially do the same job (i.e. numb the pain). The only difference being, it is socially acceptable, if a doctor is involved. Not to mention, the government gets a higher percentage of your dime. Personally? I'm more inclined to fork over my hard-earned dollars to another working schmuck like myself, than to a facist government already spoiled rich. Even if it be deemed "politically incorrect".
During "Suicide Sunday's", their is an omnipresent sense of forboding. Always followed by a sense of physical, and congnitive decline. Spent in perpetual introspection, if I'm quiet enough, I swear I can almost hear the seconds ticking from my life. The future punching of Monday's timecard, equates to the closing of a celldoor. I'd bet you dollars to donuts, were you to ask any longtime lifer in prison, serving multiple sentences, they would have prefered getting the death penality. On principle alone, it's far more humane. Often, life on the outside for us law-abiding citizens, is not much different. Our jailer is our employer, our circumstances, or even our very mind. Occasionall all three. The shirt of my life uniform reads: "I can't decide whether to commit suicide, or ride my motorcycle.". Well, I've been told you have to be suicidal to ride a motorcycle in the G.T.A., anyways. So maybe I'm just taking the "scenic route", instead?
So there you go, kids. Those are MY "theme nights". So come to the party, AND BRING YOUR WIFE! Or someone's wife. If you can't? Just bring youself. And we'll find you one. :)
"Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.". Gh0sT xxx 7月6日 "The Divine Nature, of the Nocturnal Creature"....I observe the ghostly, norturnal specters pass by me. Marveling, at the sensual nature of their synthetic attire, and entranced by their exotic, body adornments. In the gleaming radiance, of their polyvinyl outfits, and their glowing, neon hair extensions. Basking in their individuality, they are unlike another urban dweller. Openly flaunting their tibe's shadowy characteristics and decadant asethics, they group together. Walking the snow covered streets in the early morning hours, like a ragtag band, of industrial superheros. Males drapped in militant leather and iron ornaments, and the females sparsley beautifued, in high boots and fishnet stockings. The composite of their attire, screams of sex and violence. Themes which, in their world, might be considered mutually exclusive, and mutally enjoyable. Shaded with cosmetics, the pastel of choice is gloom black. A pigment devoid of life, and shared by both genders. Used to both horrify, and mystify spectators. The Devil's minions. Posessing a physical presence, that is contradictory in nature. Alluring, as it is alienating. Demonic, as it is angelic. Inhabiting a world. South of Heaven, and north of Hell.
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