Chapter I (2002 – 2007)

Going back there:

Like steam; beads down glass,

Crushed, small breathing,

Bricked against the cold of ice.

Bare shivers climb–

Dying of exposure–

Locked out of home,

Seeking payphone forgiveness.

Biting back reasons,

Not to regret.

Originally: spun, wayward,

On a slicing wire through time,

Chance, risk;

Struggling to the premises, fading.

Brisk, bone-deep shakes,

Drive the pursuit of goals.

Aspiring eyes, welled, trying,

Daunted by respect for want.

Fooled for love-like states–

Stealing irresponsible moments,

To taste her heated moans,

Cast in binding-bliss–

Dry, waterless roots of resent, choking.

A purpose lost through trial,

Ignorant and capsized–

Chemically wooed,

Dizzy, misguided synapses–

Firing belligerently.

Romanced for rot,

Eating its sweet succulents.

Infectious pus spewing,

Fetid, mashed, intestinal wastes,

Swallowing the bitter-bile, thumping–

Hot blood,

Churning heart irregularly–

Throbbing in outrage,

Burnt by promise.

Married in, for, by… disgust.

Soulless, slipping into alleys–

Emptied through waste-ways,

Stained, parcels left alone in rooms,

Possessions strewn with disregard.

The sallow, bleeding papered-walls,

Spattered with hateful stains,

Strike a blow across my face.

Breaking the world, for her.


Things fell far from recollection.

Her sex viperous, uncoiled.

Still a yearning somewhere primal,

In unrequited hardness–

Driving wild, weedy undesired growth,

Poisoned by the circumstance.

Surrendering lifelessly,

To ever-aching thrusts–

Of regurgitated desires.


Eyes to not forget:

Burrowing with unspoken–

Sensual keenness, open, desperately–

Acknowledging a presence inside–

Releasing into her private warmth,

Grasping sweat-soaked touches–

Consumed by sensation,


Absolved of secrets,


After, bloated disregard,

Conscious of scattered lusts–

Responsible for my own want,

Tasked by a new stare,

Vexed, glowering with spat-out pity–

A face of words,

A ring thrown on the floor.

Coughing on bitter soil-dust,

In realization as moments blur–

Squandered days it seems…

Mounting, uneven scores,

Towards the future, now smeared,

Stranded silence.

Nobly striving–

For a dim yesterday.

The torpor-dreams of corpses,

Swamped, in the peat-murk of decay,

Sinking into the now.


Sought for no longer,


Stubbornly surrendering,

To a rescue.

Pondering My Story

As I have been somewhat prompted by circumstance and desire, I’m thinking of telling a (hopefully) unbiased story of my travels across California from the time I left home at 19 years old (in late October 2002). I have been on a meandering trail ever since, and have returned to my home-town upon the most recent leg of said “adventure.” I traveled to  and resided in such locations as: Santa Barbara, Goleta, Ventura, Carpinteria,  Los Angeles (Thousand Oaks) and Sacramento county (in Elk Grove, then Fair Oaks / Citrus Heights), Placerville, Lake Tahoe, San Francisco, Oakland, The Sierra Nevada Mountains, The Owens Valley, The Mojave Desert, Mount Shasta, Mount Lassen, Yosemite National Park, The Coastal Ranges (and Redwood forests)… and have, thus, seen a huge proportion of the landscapes and environments this state has to offer.

More than that, I have fundamentally changed through experience on a personal / emotional / cognitive level. I have learned hard lessons, and pushed myself to the very edge of the abyss, only to cast myself in. I have put my future success in a financial bind, and limited my potential with life-changing, costly errors. Despite this, I am still trying, every day, to have the best future I can make for myself… regardless of momentary pain, sadness and crushing depression.

It’s been a journey that I have taken a great deal from, and can learn from re-living  through a narrative of some form, in order to gain perspective and have opinion rendered on it as well. It’s good to get secondary, hopefully objective readers to address the various circumstances I dealt with, and how I reacted to them, and why.

So, maybe the next few posts will represent a synopsis of my various encounters with reality, via  my 9 year journey through, and to, independent life.


I deleted the other post because it was depressed-talk and primarily nonsensical garbage. I need to shut the fuck up and stop pitying my lot. So I’ve fucked this relationship up. Crying about it doesn’t change anything.

I made a therapy appointment for Monday at 8:45 at a “sliding-scale”counseling clinic. I am going to try to get in on Tuesday to see a replacement psychiatrist so I can get a new prescription. I’m out of 2 meds now, and things will only get worse if I don’t do something. Action is to be taken.

This pain isn’t going away until I can show myself that I’m worth saving. That I have something of real value in me that should be fought for.

None of this brinkmanship, whining or sorrowful remarks. Just go out there and make yourself feel better.

It’s just going to take a while before she ever really trusts me again. Or respects me, for that matter.

I’m hopeful I can earn back her love, or what of “us” I have destroyed, squandered or otherwise damaged…


To persevere despite BiPolar is to understand the cycle of depression, and know that where you are, is where you have been before, and will soon be back to after a peak, and over and over, but not mired forever… soon, we will be free.