Presidential Psychopaths: Feeding the Insanity

HUMILITY

Humility

        Today is a day where I realize that my disability and illness is a burden to my daughter Sunflower and my dear brother.  Don’t get me wrong dear reader they do this with nothing but patience and love but today as an example my unbelievably wonderful daughter did not feel well and it was obvious.  It was obvious that she was exhausted.  Her two year old son, my grandson Wyeth, has been sick and didn’t sleep well last night which meant that Sunflower didn’t get sleep.  She had a full day’s work, had to go pick Wyeth up at his little pre pre-school and then take him to grandma’s and back to work and she still made time to come in and visit with me.

        A couple points of interest here.  My daughter is a lesbian and is married to her partner Legend, obviously these names have been made up, actually the second point that I will interrupt the first point with is that, if it would have been up to me my daughter’s name would have been sunflower and we could have called her Sun or flower for short but alas my wife, who is my first ex-wife convinced me that it was not a good idea and she was always absolutely right.

        No really she was always right.  I wish I would have known that then.

        Now if my second wife and I would have had another kid she would have gladly named it whatever idiot hippy peace name I wanted.  She was eleven years younger than me and very into my hippy spiritual nut ways.  Actually she was in too those things more than I was at the time.  Now back to the original point.  As I mentioned my daughter is a lesbian and she is married to her partner Legend.  Ohio doesn’t recognize gay marriages yet so they went to Martha’s Vineyard to do the deed.  Legend is an artist.  She has a studio in the Short North of Columbus and is well known and fairly well compensated for her work.

        I believe my daughter wanted an artist’s life and would have loved to have her own studio and be compensated for her brilliant work, which her pieces of art were, but life took her in a different direction.  My beautiful intelligent and multi-talented daughter went into education and landed a very good job in administration making a very nice salary, but again I digress.  She is a lesbian, she is married, she is successful and she went and got artificially impregnated at the age of 38 and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Wyeth.  She is a brilliant mother, a grand wife, a savvy business woman and she still finds time to come and see her dad who was not the best father that he could have been, well especially after the divorce from her mother.  I was not an abusive or violent man to her or anyone but I was to myself and this resulted in me not being around when I should which is why I think my daughter Sunflower did not pursue her artistic endeavors.  I wasn’t there to give her support on her artistic projects.

        I have been a shit sometimes.

        I was too busy recovering and having a lot of sex with a lot of women and then relapsing and having a lot of sex with a few woman then relapsing and recovering and finally falling in love with one woman that broke my heart.  Not intentionally.  She made it perfectly clear what our relationship was.  It was nothing but sport fucking.

        “Wait a minute I watched this dream.  I watched it from start to finish.  It was one of those moments.  Those moments of clarity that no one could deny.  No wait.  Was I wrong?”  Yes you bumbling fool you were dead wrong.  What was next was my mini breakdown and two short affairs that were just that, an affair.

        I must say that most of our time together was intense                                        and alive but there was a misunderstanding there.

-       This was a long and drawn out rambling of words that just skimpily was to express my admiration and how proud I am of my daughter.  

                Sunflower has shown a tremendous strength and dedication of purpose along with a love for me that is a sacrifice for her to come and visit me at the hospital that I am currently at.

        My dear brother is also an archangel to me just as my daughter has been especially when I was still in Lima.

        The progression has been that my dear brother was there for me in Lima and Sunflower would come to Lima when she was able.  Now Sunflower takes care of me and my dear brother and his boys come to see me when they can.

        I also have another brother who has been coming to see me lately.  This brother and I created music together using my words for a while and then he started giving some words to our musical projects and we also used words from my dear brother.  I will call this brother Tacami.  I also have another brother.  I will call him lost brother.  Mom is mom.  Mom is old and is angry.  Not at me per say just at life.  Mom is broke and relies on all of us boys to come to her aid and well sometime we just don’t.

        What was the point I was trying to make here.  I don’t remember.  Sunflower was annoyed with me today because I can’t remember anything anymore.  She was actually annoyed at me for a couple of reasons today.  Mostly about my memory.  I don’t remember much of the present and the past is just a distorted dream. 

        Much of my lost memory is due to my complete apathy toward the past right now.  It is vitally important right now for me to understand that the past is exactly that.  It’s gone and there is nothing that can be done to change anything so you look straight into today taking slight glimpses of the future while staying in the now. 

        Om is the answer.  I am at peace and I am consciousness.

        I am free of distractions and this means I am free of memory.  Nothing is as important as the present and I will continue to walk in these sacred circles to achieve the final silence.  Om…

        Oh the blues wail on the sitar. 

        Oh the blues chant a calling on the sitar.

        I will cry with the sitar. 

        I will cry with the texting fingers to my lover from the past.  

        She broke my heart and I shattered the dream to insure that we would         never love again.

        Oh you are the desert dream.

        You are the infinite scream.

        You have the voice of a child.

        And yet your spirit is alive wild.

        Oh, dance with me dance with me.

        Oh, make love to me, make love to me.

        You speak in tongues and I speak in whispers.

        YOU leave me, the Children chant as they are programmed to do       so and we dance to the silence. 

        The silence is everywhere.

        You leave me breathless.

        Yes you leave me breathless.

        Kissing me breathless.

        You leave me dead or alive.

        Dead or alive, alive.-

        A mighty voice.

        Hear no more.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

        So I wake with a jolt and my ex-wife is there shaking me.  I am waking from a long and terrible dream.  Oh god on high I am finally awake and I finally see the absolute truth.  Oh I am delusional and I am hallucinating because nothing is real.

        I meditate to the voices.  I cannot stop listening to the singing.  It’s time to die oh peasant and to be enveloped into the matrix of the song of the wailing of the dream.

cool peace

very groovy

mical peace

love

spirit

Don Quixote’s Solar Windmill

            The pangs of loneliness cut deep like a butcher knife.

            

            The remembering of things long gone is like hands tearing out my guts.

            Cutting and slipping both hands into me and digging the stomach, intestines, kidneys and anything else that is in the proximity.  I lay there awake, not dead for a while but then he has broken my ribs and he pulls at my heart but the heart doesn’t want to cooperate.  And then it will be my turn.  My turn to die.

            I get impatient with this one nurse here.  She is actually stunning to look at.  She has an exotic face and a beautiful ass but she takes forever to get anything done.

            Dear brother responds back, “Yea …you’ve never patient…no woman is stunning to look at.

            I respond, “I beg to differ.  There are some creatures of the female species that are true works of art that leave us breathlessly in love.

            Being somewhat of an expert on near death experiences which also vary in their application, there was the fact I was born dead, the drug overdose when I worked at Scotts and my wife and daughter stood by while my mother-in-law tried to slow my heart down by massaging the artery in my neck whatever it’s called.   

            There were a couple more times during my drunken years and then recently my adventures of bleeding to death on the inside and the battle with MRSA and my body especially my spine.    

            Being this self-proclaimed martyr driven by his own self-destructive beast, the protagonist will struggle to accomplish life but always by my own rules even when those rules are more dangerous than what many were suggesting otherwise.

            For two days the suits, you know those assholes that only have one thing on their minds and that’s their bonuses, decided to inform me that I had been on self-pay since the 5^th of November which meant as of yesterday I owed twenty five thousand, five hundred dollars.  I obviously went bat shit crazy but actually kept it pretty cool, only swearing a few times for drama but letting them know that their solutions were not acceptable and I was not going to sign the responsibility for payment form or whatever it was. I did inform him of my legal rights and I think it caught him and the red headed goon woman he brought along with him off guard a little.  It will be an interesting tide.

            ‘Life is the whim of several trillion cells to be you for a while.”  This caught my eye.  The individual that said this is unknown to me.  It makes my whole journey through and within consciousness that more -understandable.

            It’s twelve thirty in the morning and I’m looking for something to watch that will crawl up my metal spine and give me chills all over my body.  I could be making jewelry or playing my guitar or creating art of some form but instead I am searching for that special movie that will scare me.

            I just love being frightened.  The rush that I feel reminds me of the speed I used to take.  That initial “WHOA” that happens. The paranoid feeling that someone is watching me, that I am being hunted.  My heart is pumping heavy my breath is short but sexy.  You can feel the heat coming off of me as I also feel your hot body against mine.  It is an ecstatic pleasure even though all of this is forbidden.  Ah to sin.  It gives me such pleasure when I break these man made rules.

            The fabric is finally beginning to fray.  I’m becoming overwhelmed with claustrophobia, Sunflower is starting` to show signs of being exhausted with the new schedule and my dear brother is paralyzed with the reality of just how sick I was and how long the recovery has been.

            No matter how much someone tries when they have a full life with jobs, children, husbands, wives or partners taking care of or even just visiting someone in a facility like this is stressful.  It’s stressful for everyone including me as the patient.

            God damn they make a terrible cup of coffee.  All I want in this world right this minute is a double espresso and a large Kenya AA cup of Joe.  Is that too much to ask?

            There are those special nurses that understand my dilemma and they will give me my long term oxycotton, two little oxycodone, IV dilaudid and my two Ambien all at the same time which when they all mingle and mix together bring on either some of the most vivid and intense dreams or if I force myself to stay up I find my jewelry making and movie watching or reading becomes a completely new experience.

            I know, I know I’m an addict but things have changed.  I am in a controlled environment.  I am just as much a prisoner as the poor bastard doing time for having a ging fuck joint in his pocket.  The difference of course is that he has all of his physical faculties working and he is imprisoned in steel and brick with the chance of violence or rape around ever angled corner.  I on the other hand have the entire world in front of me but I can’t get up and walk out of this damn bed and to get back into the real world I have to be set up with a place to go for dialysis and I have to be off of IV antibiotics.  So my parole is based upon these conditions and dear brother and Sunflower want me to go to a facility where I would get more intensive physical therapy to get me back on my feet or to finally say I will never walk again and get me to a wheel chair or scooter and set up the handicap, cripple elderly mini bus for transporting my broken ass to dialysis and all the other doctor appointments.

            Jesus God how did I get here?  Oh yea I remember.  I became a workaholic and wasn’t taking care of myself.  In fact I was abusing my body and stopped paying attention to the effects that were taking place.  That and I became another victim of the deadly super virus MRSA.  But then I am repeating myself now.

            MRSA is a virus strain that just became stronger than what our antibiotics were able to knock out.  So, we made stronger antibiotics and the viruses got stronger and we found people hooked up to IV antibiotic machines for months trying to stop the disease or we lost body parts and this just wasn’t the dregs getting this.  Normal people found themselves with these super bugs and athletes professional and just regular Joes and Jill’s playing games with each other.  I became an amputee patient.  Well it was just the big toe on my right foot but man it was still a transition that I had to go through.  I will never look at that foot again the same way.  I will always see that healed over lump that used to be my grand and beautiful big toe.

            There will finally come a day when there will be a virus that is more powerful than all of our super-duper antibiotics will not be able to stop and we will see worldwide devastation and frankly it has to happen ever million or so years.  There are just too many of us on the planet.  The human race which in itself is a virus has been scouring the land destroying everything in their path and even killing off their own kind.

            We are due for some good old apocalyptic mayhem.

            But that doesn’t take and look at my current situation.  That is all projectional thinking into the future and it keeps me from staying in the now the same way looking back even one day into the past or trying to figure out the whole reason for all of this is not healthy.  The now is all that matters. 

            Our minds work very hard to protect themselves and as a result they do more damage than good.  That is why we have to have a personal revolution against our mind.  We must meditate to force the mind to stay in the now.  The now is all I have.  The now is what I know as real.  To reflect on the past the mind will not bring it back in exactly the way the event transpired and looking forward is just a fantasy.  We must know that the now is our true spiritual base and foundation and consciousness is what we strive for and what communicates to us all.  We are one.  We are one with everything.

            Now dreams are a place where we can play with the past, present and the future because dreams are where we journey to different planes of awareness, different worlds and circumstances.  Dreams take us to the learning field and if we practice long enough we will be able to bring back the lessons that are embedded in those dreams.

            Meditation into the dream state for me is where I go the deepest, where I find universes that are both full of beauty and also full of blood curdling terror but either way I bring back something.

            I know that these deep places is where I first met Annie Cosmic and later Aardvark Diggs.  Annie somehow followed me out into my own world from her alternative world and then they both subsequently perfected moving from one universe to the other and they were able to teach me how to do it but I only travel to their alternative civilization if one of them is with me and so far its always been with Annie.

            I haven’t heard from Annie for a while.  Annie has a tendency to show up when I am going through some self-inflicted crisis.  There have been those times when Annie and I hooked up when things were going beautifully.  Those were always fun times.

            Aardvark Diggs was slightly annoying when he came around and I know it’s because he 

is here to remind me of how much I have grown spiritually and physically.  Aardvark is a man that loves life to its fullest and doesn’t have a regret in the world and this is what irritates the hell out of me.

            Wow what a day.  What a trip it has been little soldier.  It’s getting to be early evening and this is when I come alive.  I am a night owl as the nurses and techs call me.  I am up till the wee hours of the morning on my computer or making jewelry or even strumming my guitar and sometimes just meditating.

            I usually stay up till four in the morning and on dialysis days I’m back up at six and once I am hooked up to the machine and getting my jet fuel I go to sleep for a good part of it.  When people ask me how dialysis was.  I smile and say “I don’t know I was asleep for most of it” and frankly that’s the only way to do it.  Of course this means on those non dialysis days I stay up till four and I am awake at eight for breakfast or my daughter visiting and then I may take a power nap right after lunch which would be one o’clock.

            You gotta be in a deep sleep though to get any real rest here because it never fails that when you finally start to drift the nurse comes in with a fruit basket full of meds for your blood pressure, kidneys, and vitamins and of course pills to help you sleep.  Yes they wake you up to give you a sleeping pill.  After I have finally fallen to sleep at four in the morning the nurse can come in and poke me with the lancet to get a drop of blood to check blood sugar and I won’t even flinch.  Awake that little prick to the finger can actually hurt.  Let them hit and old puncture or really near one and it can sting like a mofo

.

            The most annoying thing about my stay here at Hotel Chronic is that three times a day I am hooked up to IV antibiotics which getting hooked up is no big deal but what happens more than not is that the nurse will get busy or is just hanging out at the nurses station ignoring the beep, beep, beep noise that the machine gives off to let the nurse know that it is done.  This is a form of Chinese torture.  If you are an asshole of a patient this is a perfect way for the staff to torture said patient.  I immediately turn on the call light and hit the pain button because whether or not I need pain medicine or not, I’m in pain over that noise.

            I’m not an asshole patient except for my reaction over the shit and slime that they call food that they are trying to food me but I have listened to that noise for a solid hour.  I usually put on my headphones and try to block it out but faintly in the back ground I can hear that rhythmic beep, beep, beep, beep, beep and on and on.  Never slowing down, never speeding up and never breaking its monotonous rhythm.

            This is my life.  Good or bad this is my life oh and I would like to know why every treat or dessert is vanilla flavored?  Vanilla pudding, vanilla protein drink which is like drinking semen or at least what I think semen must taste like.  There’s vanilla ice cream and frozen vanilla some kind of health treat that again just makes me gag when I put I in my mouth. Oh well beggars can't be choosers.

             

I say fuck you to that.  Ah with a grin and a wink.                                                                          cool peace

hippy mike

love

spirit

The story of Rain Soaked Mind

This all started with four brothers who grew up during the 60's, 70's and 80's.  We used to have special names for ourselves but in all honesty we are all too old for that now.  Tommy Lee and I started goofing off with music a long time ago.  It was fun.  


I met Sam along this journey and Sam and I spent wonderful stoned nights together playing and recording music in my apartment in Plain City, Ohio.  We called ourselves TheWhsiperKings.


Tommy Lee, Patrick Sean and I also goofed off playing music off and on and then out of nowhere we had three magical weekends in Patrick's barn where we played and recorded music.  We also used my brother Tim's lyrics on some of the songs.


Most of the music on this site were first take recordings because, well even though we loved music our lives kept getting in the way, you know, normal life, like marriages, divorces, car crashes, nervous breakdowns, etc.


Thank you so much for coming to our music blog and spending some time with us.

Homeless guy on the bus was written many, many years ago.  It is a semi factual story of when I lived in Columbus, Ohio.  I was struggling with homelessness and trying to get my life back together.  


I would ride COTA bus around sometimes just to have a place to sit down and be warm.  I fell asleep one night and the bus driver threw me off the bus because I got, well in his opinion out of control.


This is my daughter's favorite song of mine.  She saw in this song the struggles that her dad went through but she also caught the tongue-in-cheek lyrics of the song.


Life dishes out what it will sometimes and we just have to be paying attention.  Sometimes I just wasn't paying attention.


This is for you Alyssa...
Dad