<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:18:14.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Five And A Half Minute Hallway</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-8907779162608473917</id><published>2010-01-21T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T20:13:26.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For You.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I had this dream (in late 2007) that I was bitten on the palm by an orange mosquito. I watched the insect as it landed in my right hand. When the insect bit me, it hurt.  By reaction, I smashed the mosquito with my left hand killing it.  I looked over my shoulder, and the person I was with (not sure who, it was a man, but he was out of focus) was swatting away a yellow mosquito. I turned my attention back to my hand and noticed a small hole where the mosquito had bitten me. I put my finger on the hole and opened in wider until the skin on my palm opened like a flower. I stared inside my wound to discover strings of white light dancing around each other.  I moved my hand closer and closer to my face until I was completely surrounded by this white light. I could hear the person I was with cursing the yellow mosquito for stinging him. I shut my eyes and thought, "It will be alright. From that pain will come great beauty."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;As I woke up, I looked at my hands, inspecting them for any marks. As I became more aware that I was in fact awake, I sat up in my bed and stared at the walls, recalling what I just experienced. I got lost in thought until my alarm clock brought me back. I got ready for work and went about my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Every once in awhile, I would think about that experience.  I still do. I even look at my hand once in awhile, and imagine that light pouring from the palm. A dream I had so long ago is still effecting me today. Now it seems appropriate  to share the dream, along with a few words.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Allow me to disarm you.  We all hurt. Whatever you are using to guard yourself, put it down; you won't need it here. Shut your eyes. Breathe. The warmth that builds in your chest which is followed by a cold twinge brings your lips together in a pout. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Frown. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Cry.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Go ahead. It's ok. You're not alone; I'll do it with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Whenever you choose to let go, imagine this: You are full of this amazing light. You're thinking..."How hippie new age bullshit does that sound?" I'm not leaning in that direction, so bear with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; We are full of such incredible power. Some people know it, most do not. It's there, waiting to be used. It will see us through, it will heal us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; You can be so broken and feel so hopeless. Every time your world gets flipped you feel as though you'll be thrown right off this manic carnival ride that is life. Hang on. Hang on to something. You will be pulled back to the start. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; As I look out my window, I see trees twisting in the hard winds. Even as they loose some of their branches, the heart of these trees will remain, for they have strong roots that hold them here in this existence. So do you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; We can be so ready to give up. So ready to leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  I know people that will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  I know people that are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  I knew people who did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; I also who know people who won't give up. They are fighting; they are warriors. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; To these people I say keep fighting. With every challenge, twist, or bad memories you face, may you have a wicked counter strike.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; With every storm comes the peace. With every night, a day  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; After every scream comes a breath.  After every Death there is rebirth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; This has to happen. Nothing stays the same, and change is the only constant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  It's the worst times in our lives that are filled with the greatest lessons.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; ...and so the wheel turns. The wound opens....but the light spills over and consumes us when we welcome it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Release.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Mourn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Find peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-8907779162608473917?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/8907779162608473917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/8907779162608473917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/8907779162608473917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-you.html' title='For You.'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-7750450432684508754</id><published>2009-12-27T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T09:25:00.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm slow motion through some days, but for most days, I feel as though I'm watching the day in time elapse fast motion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;  Like those movie scenes or music videos where the "main character" is experiencing this vortex of events swirling around them. We watch them slowly move through warp speed scenarios, and when these scenes catch up with this character, they stand there stunned, overwhelmed and dumbfounded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;This describes my 2009.  This year has been the most jarring year of my life.  I learned very much very quickly. Most of my story I have already told in a previous blog, and I will not repeat myself here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Now is a time for reflecting on past situations, and learning from them. This year, I have experienced just about every emotion a human being can, and I'm grateful for every situation I found myself in over the past twelve months.  A few of them were bad,and it kept me going. It brought out my inner beast somehow..I knew She was in there somewhere, and She's only getting stronger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;To all the back stabbers, to the overwhelming, to the venomous liars and the living human mess, THANK YOU. You have made me better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;As far as goals for 2010, I plan to get back on my Spiritual path. It seems that when I moved to Phoenix, I pulled over for a bit and lost what I was getting so close to. This year, I plan to visit the Temple of Sekhmet right outside of Vegas. It's THAT close, so I have no excuse. I wouldn't go if I felt like I HAD to..I'm going because I want to. Someone was kind enough to build a temple in Her honor, and I wish to visit. I have plans to do many things in honor of my Goddess, Sekhmet, and I shall actually carve out time in my day to do such things. She has done so much for me, and I will return favor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Other goals include purchasing a gun, and getting my CCW. This is something I've wanted to do for awhile now and I can't put it off any longer.  I'm a firm believer in the second amendment and by carrying a firearm, you are that amendment in action. If we don't use our rights, we will lose them, and we as a nation cannot let that happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Then the typical personal goals people set. Bettering yourself physically and what not. I'm doing good with my weight...and I push myself harder when I feel like I've over done the food..but, I picked up cigarettes again. Even though I'm back to my "one or two a day" routine, I know better.  It will give way to three, then six, then twelve..and so on...so I need to find away to soothe that need. It's not so much the nicotine (although I'm sure it gets there), it's the hand to mouth movement I need.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;I am seriously hoping to get some of my writing published this year as well.  It's just sitting on my computer; I need to get something out there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Also on my list:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Stay assertive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Stay sarcastic and cynical (the resolution I have no trouble keeping).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Talk when I need to. Even if I'm in a situation where saying certain things won't matter at that moment, if it feels right, I'll say them anyway; I'll never know if it will help me down the road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; There's more...I guess it's all about general improvement...which is what 2010 will be about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; This time next week, we'll be three days in to the new year. May it already be turning around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt; Have a Happy New Year everyone...see you one the other side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-7750450432684508754?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/7750450432684508754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/12/2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/7750450432684508754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/7750450432684508754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/12/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-269944204544394202</id><published>2009-11-15T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T17:41:13.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kvetch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Out of sheer boredom and a sudden need to bitch, I have compiled a list (from the seemingly trivial to the somewhat valid) of things that simply "piss me right off." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;1. The phrase "happy camper".  Something about this saying angers me, especially coming from the lips of people that are way too happy for their own good. These obnoxious individuals observe you in a good mood and squeak these words: "Well aren't you a happy camper?" Excuse me? Excuse me?!?! That's all I can say, because I'm too angry to think of a clever retort. What's worse is when these people see that you are in a bad mood, they feel the need to tell you: "Oh, you're not a happy camper are you?" Thank you...thanks. No I am NOT a happy camper, nor will I ever be, you inane jackass. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;2. When people try to talk to me when I can't hear them. I hate this. If I'm in the bathroom with water running and you're out in the hallway, odds are, I can't hear a god damn thing you're saying to me. I hate hearing the muffled voice of someone trying to carry on a conversation with me when they know full well that I can't hear them. Same goes if I'm wearing headphones, concentrating on something else, or if my ears are plugged up. Wait until you have my full attention before trying to talk to me, or wait until I'm done with whatever I'm doing. People that have done this before feel the annoyed "I can't hear you!" venom lash from my lips.  Just wait until you're looking at me in the eye, then we can talk...it's all good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;3. People who ask for help without verbally asking. I'm usually in the mood to help people if they need it..usually. But, please, ASK. I've had people around me try to reach for something on a high shelf, and they'll stand there and strain and grunt as they strive to reach whatever they need. Then they have the nerve to shoot me a look like "how about you help me". Depending on who they are, I'll cheer them on with a sarcastic "come on, you can do it!" or I'll just shoot a look back like "what the hell was that look for?". My reactions usually trigger the "Can you help me with this" question that should have been asked several minutes before the one person stage show "Grunt and Strain." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; 4. People that are freaking out about 2012. Stop. Just stop it. So what? If "Planet X" is going to destroy the world, there's not going to be a single freaking place you can hide. Even if it comes close and shifts the poles, that is massive destruction that will be damn near impossible to survive...and if you do, that sucks for you. I would hate to survive something that catastrophic. Besides, we've heard this song before, a lot. It went something like: 05/05/2000...and let's not forget Y2K.  I didn't think anything of it then, and I don't think much of it now. If the world ends, all your bunkers and food supplies will not matter, because guess what, you'll be dead. Plus, I read an interview with a Mayan elder awhile back, and he said "the Mayan calendar does not END on 12/21/2012.." (It's the end of a cycle, and a new one will start.) So. There.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; 5. Nirvana. There I said it. I can't stand most of what Nirvana released. I hate the fact that it's a MUST to love this band if you love 90's alternative. Well, you MUST be kidding me. I like their lesser known tracks. (Aneurysm, Sappy , About a Girl...) But the majority is, overplayed, overrated, and utter crap. I'll be over here listening to Alice In Chains..(the early stuff.) And I don't want to hear who influenced who. Hell, The Beatles influenced a lot of great bands...and I hate most of what The Beatles made as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; 6. While we're on the subject of music, all music today is total shit. I never thought I would complain about this generation's music the way my parents complained about mine, but here I am....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; 7. Nickelback...I don't think I need to explain why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; 8. When people refer to TV characters as real people. "Yeah, he's funny. He reminds me of Jim." Jim...Jim from The Office? Are you freaking serious?  I was having a conversation with someone awhile back, and they brought up the fact that "they don't like the way Michael was treating Pam last week..." Wait, you're talking about a freaking television show. These people don't really exist. You do know that, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt; Eight is a good closing number. I'm sure as more and more things piss me off, a Kvetch part deux will emerge.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-269944204544394202?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/269944204544394202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/11/kvetch.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/269944204544394202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/269944204544394202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/11/kvetch.html' title='Kvetch'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-9154354350826401121</id><published>2009-10-05T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T23:01:52.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trudging Through an Unanswered Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nostalgia hit me like a ton of bricks today.  I was digging through my storage in an attempt to find the horns I'll inevitably need for my costume. After twenty minutes of rummaging through boxes. I found them in my nightstand drawer (which I had looked in twice before while at my storage). The box rummaging wasn't a total loss though. During my horn quest, I found some clothes I forgot I owned along with a few CD's that I hadn't listened to in three or four years.  I tossed my newly discovered wardrobe in the the back of the car and placed the CD's on the front passenger seat. I closed up storage, and away I drove. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; I stuck this mixed CD I made way back in 2005.  It was full of both decent and ridiculous techno. (Including the Mortal Kombat theme..lol)  As I was flipping through the tracks, this song started by Gigi D'Agostino. I remember placing "I'll Fly With You" in very high regards back in '04. Yeah, it's cheesy techno, but at that time, I built something on that song. Over the years, I casually listened to this song, not really giving it much thought. However, today in the car, I was slammed with feelings from four years ago. Everything came together at that moment. The cooler weather, the song, and the location. It felt like I hit a deja vu mother load.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; As the song kept going, I got hit with memories, the feelings that went along with those memories, and a fast forward picture show of the last few years. I wanted to jump out of my skin and trudge through the days of my past. As I drove through town, with this song on repeat, I narrowed my flight of recall down to a certain person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; My ever evasive wolf friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;  He was so serious back then...which is something he admitted to me when we talked on the phone right before I moved to Phoenix. He was intense and I was shy...bad combo. Our relationship never totally ended. We never had the "it's over" talk. We were just loose ends. I rarely saw him and when I did, it felt like the first encounter. The last time I saw him, was back in 2007. We hadn't seen each other for a year and a half, and I still became flustered. I felt ridiculous, and I ignored the fact that he had a crazed blond chick with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; During our "right before I moved to Phoenix" phone conversation we did something foreign to the both of us. We talked.. a lot, about nothing...as it should be in those situations. He even pointed out in jest "wow, we're having an actual conversation.." The admittance of his past intensity soon followed that statement. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; After that conversation, we didn't talk for over a year.  This past June, after the demise of my engagement, the thought of contacting him tapped me on the shoulder. I shook it off....until I saw his last name on a license plate. In all my years of cosmic "bitch slaps" that was one of the biggest. There it was. No abbreviations, no numbers posing as letters...just the full last name, and next to it was the number '1'. I remember muttering "well shit" as I pulled my phone out, and dialed his number. Our conversation was decent. We caught up on the last year, and he kept talking to me even though he was at work. I told him I'd be moving back, which was followed by a sincere "oh great!" I told him I'd give him a call sometime.  I haven't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; He's one of those "we'll wait and see" people. Meaning, will I run into him...we'll just have to wait and see.  I'm used to contacting or running into this guy a year at a time, so yeah, we'll see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm not giving chase. It'll happen when it happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Things were left unfinished  between us, and that's why it's weird. Even still. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; It's not love, it's curiosity. It's a what the fuck moment in my life that I may or may not resolve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; In retrospect, there were SO many things between us that were never said. Things that we should have shared but were either too shy, or too proud to express. We had the awkward pauses, and when it was time for one of us to leave, we didn't want to. What is that? What happened? Why do I still give a shit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Every time I turn to run into this mysterious water, I catch my self and shake my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt; The water in the sea is here, ready for me to go swimming, and here I am waiting for a tsunami.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;C'est la vie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-9154354350826401121?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/9154354350826401121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/10/trudging-through-unanswered-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/9154354350826401121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/9154354350826401121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/10/trudging-through-unanswered-past.html' title='Trudging Through an Unanswered Past'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-1663548760969133857</id><published>2009-09-12T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T00:14:51.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hanging out in limbo with new manifestations.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;My writers block is driving me nuts.   So, here I sit  taking a look around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;me. Feeling out my situation.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Actually, I don't think I'm in any particular situation...just hitting a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;plateau.   Creatively, I'm jotting down lines and working on a short story &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;for a contest (again).  I also found myself drawing. Drawing is something I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;normally don't try..since I can't seem to make the pencil perform magic, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;I found myself doodling a nice skull...to go a long with the neat-o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;skeletons I drew a couple years ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;In other news...every factory, warehouse, electronics business, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;distribution center in Prescott has my resume. Some of these fine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;establishments have two of my resumes. One company has three. I even thought &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;I had a sure thing with this store that I worked at from 2004- 2006. Well, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;my 'sure thing' ended up going bad. I was told that I was hired.  I even &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;came in and filed out the new hire paper work. As soon as it got back to the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;corporate that I was re-applying, they deemed me "un-hire able". Apparently, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;they still have sand in their collective vagina.  See, when I quit (over &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;three and a half YEARS ago) I gave them a four day notice, and wrote a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;letter to the then store manager informing him of the horrible way the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;company treats their employees. (Which is obviously true)  Now, I would &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;understand the want not to hire me again if what I did happened three months &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;ago, but years?! Really? Hastings seems to be good at only one thing, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;that's holding grudges for three years. Seriously guys, change your tampons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Anyway, I know that work is coming...I can feel it in my qualified bones.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;In the meantime, I'm thinking about getting rid of my car. Not that I don't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;love my car, but the payments suck. I could be saving at least another &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;hundred bucks a month if I went with a used vehicle. I can do the payments, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;but I wish to save money faster. That, and I have an itch with the label of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;'truck' that I kind of want to scratch.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Yes.  Truck.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Back in 2002 when I got my very first car, I was thinking about getting a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;truck.  I should have. They say go with your first instinct, right?  But, I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;decided to listen to my mother who said "but you won't have enough room for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;passengers" and "the gas millage is so bad..."  So, I ended up with a 1992 Pontiac Bonneville...and I never had passengers. *sigh*  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Then, the two times after that I got cars instead, I always ended up wondering why. Especially when I ended up on bumpy dirt roads.  Or when I would slide through an inch of slush. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;My current car is a rear wheel drive...oh boy, I can't wait for the snow.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;So, between attracting  a job, a break in the writers block, and a truck, my manifestation muscles are working overtime, and it's making for some odd dreams. But, in these dreams, I have a truck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Well, this update is just about done. I have more, but my contacts are drying out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Stay tuned for the adventures of getting new contacts, preparing for minor out patient surgery, (be gone precancerous cervical....thing!), and getting ready for the end of this freaking psycho year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-1663548760969133857?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/1663548760969133857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/09/hanging-out-in-limbo-with-new.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/1663548760969133857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/1663548760969133857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/09/hanging-out-in-limbo-with-new.html' title='Hanging out in limbo with new manifestations.'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-7086974490574233496</id><published>2009-08-22T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T13:09:20.792-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's One For The Neck</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t7rSOU_g3rc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t7rSOU_g3rc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;We're all looking for something to break&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; We're all looking for a heavenly state&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Well, the culling is coming, one way or the other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I can hear  it in the wind that's blinding my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; One fine day or in the middle of the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Two big boys  gonna get up to fight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Well, I'll be diving for cover and double up inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Praying for forgiveness it'll never arrive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; My, my, what a beautiful place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Who is first to destroy the human race&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I've got faith, what do you say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; 1, 2, 3, and it's a beautiful day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; My, my, here's one for the neck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Don't relax, 'cos you're next for the check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I've got faith - we're armed to the teeth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; But I've got a strange and a stupid belief &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; We're looking for a little salvation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; What I got, it's a living damnation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Big world, wild eyes, shiny boots, and broken ties&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Government progress, what do you get? less&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Why do you want to hear about the state of my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Well, I can see it in their pupils&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; They got no scruples&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Oh, what a way to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-7086974490574233496?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/7086974490574233496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/08/heres-one-for-neck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/7086974490574233496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/7086974490574233496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/08/heres-one-for-neck.html' title='Here&apos;s One For The Neck'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-1918620427680487823</id><published>2009-08-18T01:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T01:28:10.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, it comes out...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I should be fixing up my book, but I'm deciding to wander a bit away from that tonight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;After several minutes of going back over all of the chapters I have written, I decided that a drive was in order just so I could clear my mind and gain some sort of inspiration that usually comes from these adventures. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Off on another gas-wasting adventure I go!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; As I walked to the car, I noticed that there was something different in the air. A chill came over me as I got that "something is changing" feeling in the marrow of my bones.  I inhaled deeply and caught the smell of a fireplace burning wood.  I got this wonderful feeling that I experience the strongest in Autumn. The season of change is fast approaching, and I am more than ready. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I've mentioned before that Fall is a season that I (and I'm sure many of you) literally feel. It's the time when people reflect on the year that has passed, shed some skin, and grow. Not only is Autumn a season of change and growth, it is a season of Death. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;  All the things we have learned, all the people that we have gotten to know.  Those that have taught us what we could be, and those that have taught us what we should never do.  The last year and a half of my life was surrounded by so much of this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I learned a lot about myself when I lived down in the depths of Phoenix. I learned what it is to have circumstances form to only create other circumstances. Moving around Phoenix was all based on instinct, then the consequences of following said instinct.  From moving from home, to moving from my friends house to another's house, then being forced to scramble to find a place, and then moving in with another friend...then finally crash landing in the lap of the height of my learning experience.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; A good friend spirited me away to the Valley of the Sun. He's still a good friend in fact.  I sprang from Phoenix with very few of those, which is just the way it should be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; The first ten months were filled with warehouse hi jinks (yay industrial jobs!),clubs, breaking out of my shell, and constant wondering about "the one who got away".  Clubs gave way to many many friends...few of them stayed that way. Then instinct guided me to another place.  Tensions in this place proved to be too much, and I ended up at another good friend's apartment...and the "one that got away" was one apartment complex to the left.  I knew this when I moved in...and I expected myself to leave well enough alone, until I got a call from this "new" neighboor. (Of course, he may tell the story differently, I called him, right?...anyway...)    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I never thought I'd witness the downfall of another human being's spirit, let alone be engaged to it.  It's almost as if the last year plus three months were preparing me for this ordeal. From April 5th to July 18th, I was thrown tests that would have made Hercules cringe. Although I'm not alone.  There are those that ran the same gauntlet...and I'm so glad that they're around. I went from feeling real love, to feeling real anger real quick. I won't brake this man too much; he's doing that enough by himself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Through all the confusion that is in his mind,  all the lies he has to spew, through all the drinks, pills, and sheer madness, there is a flicker of a human being that needs help, and the darkness that he has allowed to take over won't let that happen. Never had I been in the presence of a truly split person, and all I could do was watch. I witnessed the awesome, sweet side, and the depressed, tantrum side. I saw two med adjustments, and a night of binge drinking that ended with me sticking my fingers down his throat until all that came up was bile. The next morning he says I saved his life, and that "that was real love". I knew right then that his flickering human understood; but soon after, the beast returned...and all the unresolved issues got swallowed up again. That man will not see 31 unless he wakes the fuck up.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; The antics that surround him in this present time, are to the point of being funny. I stand back and just sit dumbstruck at the things that spew from his mouth, and all that spews from my mouth is laughter. How do things get so warped for another person? It's truly amazing. All I can hope, is that after it all crashes down (and oh, how it will), he comes out stronger.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I learned. Learned more about myself then I thought I ever could.  With that final blow, I flew. I rose up from the ashes and landed back home. I can breathe now...and prepare for the next road that I will take.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; I wonder now how many more monumental lessons I will learn. My gut answer: many. Many upon many. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Here comes Autumn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Another turn of the wheel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Death, rebirth, growth, repeat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-1918620427680487823?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/1918620427680487823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/08/finally-it-comes-out.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/1918620427680487823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/1918620427680487823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/08/finally-it-comes-out.html' title='Finally, it comes out...'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-7671549508746304596</id><published>2009-07-26T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T00:07:26.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Hour Glasses Are Half Full Of It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;You are dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You drive to work, make it through your day, and come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You&lt;br /&gt;have settled in front of your computer screen.  You have clicked on&lt;br /&gt;links to bring you here.  You're kind enough to be reading this, and&lt;br /&gt;you are dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's OK; I'm dying too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we have the same disease. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's called life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most humans don't understand. We're dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every second that passes is smoke disappearing in the air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every breath we take is deflating us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a deeper one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; See that Death is truly going nowhere.  In fact, it waits for us patiently with benevolence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People become ill, and they get to die a little faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It bothers me when someone says: "he's dying a slow Death" I want&lt;br /&gt;to answer back "no, it's us who are dying slowly...slower than the man&lt;br /&gt;with heart failure or the woman with cancer..."  These people seem to&lt;br /&gt;be happier. I lost my Uncle to bone cancer last year...and my Dad to&lt;br /&gt;Wagner's Disease when I was nine. I've seen the process of a "slow"&lt;br /&gt;Death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time shifts.  They have a year left.  Then that's it.  Years don't take their time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within this time, these people had never been so  full of bliss.....it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were ready to die.  They knew it was coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So should we, because it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hate to break it to all of you, but Death is going to take your hand someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone can be the healthiest person here...and they get to die too...in fact, they're dying right now, just like you and I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However for this "I run five miles a day and don't eat meat or carbs"&lt;br /&gt;person...their Death is very...VERY slow.  ...so I laugh at them while&lt;br /&gt;I eat my fillet mignon then light up a cigarette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some&lt;br /&gt;people need to be reminded to "Live Like You Were Dying" (one of the&lt;br /&gt;worst songs I have ever heard.)...I'm here to tell you....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU ARE DYING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So live.  Live however you want to&lt;br /&gt;live...but make sure you're doing it.  Create something that makes you&lt;br /&gt;excited..and know that it came from you...so that when the day come&lt;br /&gt;that Death gives you wings....you can inspire all the people that will&lt;br /&gt;still be in this existence...so people can thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Uncle Richard, for teaching me how to always have a&lt;br /&gt;sense of humor. you did...all the way to the end.  You we're cracking&lt;br /&gt;jokes on your Death bed...I admire that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Dad, for&lt;br /&gt;showing me how to put others before myself. How to focus on those that&lt;br /&gt;need help..whether that be in the form of the material, company, or&lt;br /&gt;just plain love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....and I have to thank Keegan Moran. I didn't know you that well;&lt;br /&gt;but your Death has taught me that I need to reach out....talk to people&lt;br /&gt;more.  I wish I would have talked to you more instead of just staring&lt;br /&gt;at the tattoos you were giving me.  I'll never understand why you made&lt;br /&gt;the choice to leave us...I will never forget you. I'm so honored to&lt;br /&gt;have your incredible art on my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only on the edge of this.  I will lose many more people through the Gates before I get to go myself...and I am.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and you are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....and it will be beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"but you ain't dead yet.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So be here now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-7671549508746304596?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/7671549508746304596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/07/our-hour-glasses-are-half-full-of-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/7671549508746304596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/7671549508746304596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/07/our-hour-glasses-are-half-full-of-it.html' title='Our Hour Glasses Are Half Full Of It'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5435674764369654357.post-4228284434122126236</id><published>2009-07-26T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T00:48:13.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Starts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hello, and welcome to my little corner of the..um, cyber world.  Here is where I will dump my creativity, as well as some rants, and perhaps some drivel.  Oh, boy...exciting, yes? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;See you on the other side. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5435674764369654357-4228284434122126236?l=mortishallway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/feeds/4228284434122126236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-starts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/4228284434122126236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5435674764369654357/posts/default/4228284434122126236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mortishallway.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-starts.html' title='It Starts'/><author><name>Mortis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17300969080230489277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_roAQnDRbaeY/SzeXuZ274II/AAAAAAAAAC4/TO-QeRNeeTg/S220/choker.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
