My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I formulate infinity stored deep inside of me…

Archive for December, 2010


December 31st, 2010 | Category: Life

So, I’m thirty today, and I don’t feel in good spirits.

I had this dream last night that I went for a fresh trach. They put me under for the procedure, I felt the drugs and I felt myself fall asleep, everything seemed so real. Then I started thinking something was wrong, I was someplace dark, and I kept thinking that I should be in the recovery area and I should have my computer and I should be talking to people, but I was just all alone in this unformed, incomprehensible, dark place. I kept telling myself it had to be a dream and I just had to wake up, but I couldn’t wake up. I kept trying, but I couldn’t make myself wake up. I was really frightened, if I couldn’t wake up, it had to be real. I started calling someone’s name, and calling, screaming. In all my dreams, even if I have my trach, I can still talk. That should have tipped me off that none it was real, but no. I kept calling for her in a voice she’s never heard before, but I was just alone in that dark place. I was terrified because I figured I really was dead, I’d never get to be with her again. That’s the part that scared me about being dead, I wouldn’t just wake up and go back to her. She always makes me promise to come back to her before trach changes, and I always promise.

I was so scared when I did wake up, my heart was pounding, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. She was next to me and I felt that warm, safe feeling, but not for long. I remembered she’d be gone soon, and I remembered some other things I don’t care to write, and anything that felt warm and safe went away. I just want today to be tomorrow.


The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart

December 20th, 2010 | Category: Opinions

The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart by Jesse Bullington is hard to classify, but I’ll call it dark historical fantasy. The story takes place in medieval Europe and follows the ignominious lives of Hegal and Manfried Grossbart, twin brothers, grave robbers, murderous bastards. Hagel and Manfried begin the novel with one goal, journeying from their European homeland to “Gyptland.” Being grave robbers, they see Egypt as their very own promised land, an entire country of graves and tombs loaded with riches almost too numerous to even imagine. Their journey will have them cross paths with witches, monsters, demons, mad clergy, royalty, and they’ll murder lots, and lots of innocent people before they reach their end.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t like this book until I actually finished it. The Grossbarts are simply not likable characters, at all. They’re evil, they murder women, children, anyone who gets in their way, and they’re really successful at their evil. It’s not the evil that bothers me, it’s that the Grossbarts are not smart men, they’re lucky. It’s not that the Grossbarts are brilliant, it’s that everyone trying to thwart them just isn’t that bright. The Grossbarts aren’t Richard  III, or Iago, they’re just really paranoid with a kill first, ask questions never sort of attitude. When everyone else is screwing up, it’s hard to feel anything but angry at the evil being perpetrated. I so wanted one person to smarten up and take the Grossbarts’ heads. Intelligent evil is, at least for me, fun to read, and it’s completely satisfying when that evil is at long last destroyed. When Hegal and Manfried finally bit it (their demise is revealed early in the novel), I was all, “Finally! Thank you!” I was relieved more than satisfied. Still, as negative as that sounds, I really enjoyed this book when all was said and done. The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart is epic in scope, by the end I definitely felt like I’d been on a journey. I’m not at all sorry I read it, it just wasn’t at all what expected.

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Blank pages

December 11th, 2010 | Category: Life

I stare at these plank pages and I’m so fucking stuck, I’m lost. I used to be able to write and it wasn’t like carrying a sack of bricks uphill in the snow on roller-skates. The words were there, now they’re not. I hate December so fucking much anymore. I hate my birthday. I hate, ah, fuck it. I’m so fuckin’ eloquent, I know.


Tattoo #45

December 11th, 2010 | Category: Life,Opinions,Tattoos,Thoughts on Music

Tattoo by Fish, Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor City

So, my 600th post is about my 45th, and most recent, tattoo.

These lyrics are from what’s quite possibly my favorite Elliott Smith song, the not-so-known, Some Song. It’s part of a little three track collection, the Needle in the Hay – EP. The first thing that draws me to the song is that it’s written almost entirely in the second-person. If done right, second-person writing is so powerful, it pulls people into the narrative with such intensity. اسرار ماكينة القمار To me, it’s so underrated and under-used, in music and literature. لعبت روليت It’s really difficult to pull off, but I think the pay-off is worth trying. The song itself sounds like it’s straight autobiography, Elliott laying out how he saw himself. It’s a very odd mix, he knew he had talent, that he could be who he wanted to be, yet he hated the songs he wrote, hated himself, and he knew he was broken and couldn’t get it together. I understand that odd juxtaposition of feelings toward oneself.

I know I write well, I have skill and my stuff resonates with some people. I know I have a lot of potential to write and do great things, the potential to be the fellow I see in my head. I also hate almost everything I create. I feel like a fuck up, piece of shit failure. I’m just about thirty and I haven’t really accomplished anything important, I’ve screwed stuff up. I’ve wasted chances, ruined things. I’ve made so many bad choices lately. I can’t seem to hold it together enough to be who I want to be. موقع 365 سبورت Maybe I’m stuck the way Elliott was stuck. I don’t know.


Tattoo #44

December 09th, 2010 | Category: Life,Tattoos

Tattoo by James, Stranded Tattoo Studios, Savannah, GA

This tattoo I got in Savannah, GA, the night before my brother’s wedding. Everybody else is off drinking and watching football, I’m getting a tattoo. That really says a lot, I think. At any rate, if you’re ever in Savannah and find that you’re in need of a tattoo, Stranded Tattoo Studios is the place to go. James, the fellow who did my tattoo, was spectacular, and I’ll just go ahead and say it, is probably the best damn tattoo artist in the entire state of Georgia.

As for the tattoo itself, the whats and the whys.. The lyrics are from an Alanis Morissette song, Hand in My Pocket, which is off her North American debut record, Jagged Little Pill. That’s the whats, as for the whys, they’re mine on this one.

(Again, the grammatical error in the tattoo was done to match the way the lyrics are written on

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Tattoo #43

December 09th, 2010 | Category: Life,Opinions,Tattoos,Thoughts on Music

Tattoo by Colt, Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor City

So, this tattoo is from one of my favorite Nirvana songs, Blew, which is on their first record, Bleach. Nirvana songs don’t necessarily tell a story that goes, and then, and then, and then. روليت مباشر Nirvana songs are often a mix of lines that mean something and lines that mean absolutely nothing, so it’s a matter of picking out the important lines and figuring out what they mean as a whole. That’s one reason I love Nirvana so much, every song is sort of a puzzle to solve. اسرار لعبة البوكر

To me, Blew is about being stuck, feeling intensely frustrated, and wanting it to stop. I’ve felt that way for so long… المراهنات على المباريات One night a few months ago, I felt like making those feelings something external, marking them as part of the story of me.

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Tattoo #42

December 09th, 2010 | Category: Life,Opinions,Tattoos,Thoughts on Music

Tattoo by Colt, Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor City

So, this tattoo… The lyrics are from an Aimee Mann song, King of the Jailhouse, which is off her record, my second favorite, The Forgotten Arm. If you listen to the record in order, the songs tell a story about this alcoholic, washed up former boxer, and his girlfriend, and the arc of their relationship from beginning to end. Few albums are perfect, there are always a few songs that are just “meh,” but I think The Forgotten Arm is as close to perfect as an album gets.

As for the tattoo, well, I’ll just say that if I’m stressed enough, and lonely enough, I’m guaranteed to do something stupid. I’ll do the worst, dumbest thing possible, and I don’t know how to fix that about myself.

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Tattoo #41

December 08th, 2010 | Category: Life,Tattoos

So, I got this tattoo some months back, while I was in Cincinnati. I got it my first few hours in town, we arrived and by nightfall I was having these lyrics etched into my leg. The lines are from an Alanis Morissette song, Flinch, off her record, Under Rug Swept. The song is really a story, six minutes of flash writing about this connection between two people, this consuming, unrelenting connection. These two lines, they’re my favorite, I’ve thought similar thoughts so many times.

These lines always remind me of someone, this person who’s always with me, even when she’s not. I was thinking about her that dusk in Cincinnati, thinking about how she has this deep affect on me. It’s like she has a key to everything in me, and I couldn’t change the locks even if I wanted to. The affect is beyond reason, and even when it hurts I cannot make it stop. It’s so like the way breathing affects me, the way a lack of air feels miserable, terrifying, and there’s not a Goddamn fuckin’ thing I can do to quell that lack, or change the way it makes me feel. I missed her so much when I woke up that morning, I missed her before I even left Tampa, and it hit me, it really hit me when Flinch popped up on my iPod just as we crossed that line into Cincinnati, it hit me that this one person means everything to me, that no one else holds so much sway to render me so completely happy, and so perfectly lost and melancholy. It amazes me how lyrics can pull so much out of a person, like some sort of magic spell that make the world clear as a pane of glass.

That’s all I care to say about tattoo #41.

(Oh, the grammatical error in the tattoo was done to match the way the lyrics are written on

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In here somewhere

December 03rd, 2010 | Category: Life

Well, December’s not going to be perfect, post-wise. لعبة الحظ الحقيقية I fucked it up yesterday. This is okay, I accept it. I need to get back to quality, I’m so far from quality I barely remember it. Still, past all the anxiety, and stress, and nightmares, is me. I’m in here somewhere…


December, hi!

December 01st, 2010 | Category: Life

Hi! So, the last part of November went badly. I had trouble with a trach change, and some Xanax, and a girl, and seven seasons Intervention, and my vent, and a rubber ball, and peanut butter, and some duct tape, and a kitten wearing a pashmina… I just didn’t feel like writing amidst that sort of chaos. December, however, is new and wide-open.