We all Walk the Long Road

I guess the road wasn't very long for you. But, when you go through life at 100 miles per hour, it is always going to be short trip .You were my favorite cousin, nicer to me than my own brothers most of the time. You had a heart of gold but never took shit from anyone. I always admired your toughness. You were never the biggest guy in the room, and you knew that (most of the time), but you never let that hold you back.You felt no fear. It seemed as though you could survive anything physical. From that time you fucked your arm up really bad skateboarding to all the car accident. I will never forget picking you up for that stupid EMT class in the Fall/Winter of 2006. We had a lot of great deep conversations on those rides. You also had a great sense of humor, we shared many laughs about the goofballs in that class ("got them Chinese eyes"). I was really down during that time and hanging out with you was one of the few joys i had that winter. God knows being around my dad and your mom was torture for us both. I don't think the full impact of this has hit me, it comes in waves, I don't really like being alone right now and I guess you felt the same way the past few months. All i can do now is learn from what happened to you and use some of your toughness in me, not only to get through this rough time but for the rest of my life. If somehow this digital transmission is beamed out into the atmosphere and and your soul is an antenna, I want you to know that your family and true friends knew how much you loved them, and we loved you to. I will never forget you, and will use you as an inspiration throughout my life. I just wish you didn't burn out so fast on us.



Love you Ryen,
Will

Consiouness of streams

Its been a while, babe ;-)

Anyways. Let's begin...I'm not even sure when I last posted...maybe 6 months ago. Those days summed up in a sentence: I moved to Baltimore and started a J.O.B (which is really the point in life when one begins to die)and I had sex with a former crackhead MILF. OK flash bang......premature ejaculation on her face.....lets BLOG. I hate my job most of the time....I'm underpaid for the work I do and the stress it causes....but that's besides the point...I'm like a frog and this is just one lily pad that I have to jump on to get to the next lily pad....and so on.

My job could be one giant social psychology experiment. There aren't many better judges of ones humanity than observing how people act when they are in extreme physical and emotional pain (or at least think they are). Whether its observing the tears of a grieving husband realizing the hope for recovery for his catatonic, waste of liver transplant spouse, is dim....or an asshole patient refusing to speak and just moan like a cunt in heat as their regressed form of communication.....

anyways I'm sure most of this rambling doesn't make sense. Maybe I should write about drunk dads since that got me the most comments (2)...but I don't live with a drunk dad right now so I have no new stories....I have phone calls but no actual physical real time stories....Maybe ill try to find a new drunk dad on craigslist to move in with so i will have cool things to write about. Anyways lets leave with another song.

I havent update this shit in almost two months. I don't have any loyal readers but thats cool. Well, I've been working a week less than a month now. Its going ok. Some days are good, some days aren't. But I really feel like listening to music. So I'm going to post a video. PEACE OUT GREASE OUT!

Moving on up

Well, I got the job. The interview went well Thursday. So things are starting to look up. But who knows what the future holds. Until i feel like blogging again....

Unfair?

I think it's probably unfair to have most of my blogs about my father's drunkenness, however, he is an asshole when drunk and says shit to piss me off and blogging about it is a just a way for me to vent, even if no one reads it....blogging helps get that shit out of my subconscious....kind of like the equivalent talking in psychotherapy.


Anyways, life seems to be going pretty slow these days...Why is it when life is going the slowest time always seems to be moving the fastest?

I have a job interview on Thursday, it will be interesting to see how that goes. Despite how much my job is going to suck it will be nice to start making some cash and moving out of here. I might as well put these degrees to use, the only cost me somewhere between 100-200 grand. Education is the biggest rip off in society....

I'll probably have a good entry about how the job interview went Thursday.

Lets post another video on here, I'll see what random video I have in my Youtube account favorites. Ok, I have 7...this video is funny.

His father was a drinker

Drunk Again.

Well he finished off the bottle tonight, he obviously must of had something else, because tonight he was pretty fucked up. More so than usual since he passed out at 10:30 pm (he is usually up to well past 12am). Maybe it was because he had more to drink or maybe he had a few valiums to go along withe cocktails. Who knows. He seems to be getting more drunk these days, tonight he was hardly articulate. My dad is not a happy drunk, he is not the kind of guy that is fun to be around when drinking, but I guess most alcoholics aren't.

Ever since I was young I remember my dad having a drink(s) at night. It always caused problems. He would be this great, nice, caring guy during the day. But then after work, or whenever he got home he would have a few. And then the Jekyll/Hyde transformation would take place. This nice, kind, gentle, caring man would turn into a hateful, spiteful, angry, arrogant, mentally abusive monster.

When I was a child he was probably drunk a lot, I just did not recognize it because I had no concept of what being drunk was. However, one of the first times that I cognitively recognized my dad as being blatantly intoxicated occurred when I was 16. My family went to a Labor Day BBQ or some type of summer party at a family friends house. He started drinking, and then began to eat doritos and other snack foods like a complete slob in front of everyone. He was throwing the food in his mouth like the Cookie Monster devouring a box of Famous Amos cookies, crumbs were flying everywhere and his fingers were stained orange from the power cheese on the doritos.

He began making inappropriate comments about some girls there who were around my age. I don't recall the exact things he said; its more his physical actions and how he looked that remember. However, one flashbulb memory I do have is the car ride home. I was driving, my mother in the passenger seat, and he was sprawled out across the backseats. While driving this van of the dysfunction he is constantly berating me on how shitty of a driver I am.

The next morning he apologized for his actions. Which was the one and only time he ever apologized for being drunk. Now I just assume he drinks so much that he forgets what he says or did when he wakes up.

He is 62 now and drinks more than i ever remember. I'm not sure how much longer this can go on. I only ever confront him about it when he is obliterated and does something to anger me. I want to confront him about it during the day when he is sober, I just don't have the balls. He will probably get offended and change the subject. But maybe I should just straight up ask him why he drinks so much at night.

Anyways, thats enough rambling for tonight. Don't worry, more great memories to come in the future.