Wednesday, September 23, 2009


I've always believed when you have things on your mind, that are not exactly part of your growth program, you tend to dwell on the details and fail to focus on the big picture. Your mind gets skewed into thinking these details are so important, so necessary in your life, that they fill your life and block out any forward progression.

Things like global warming, the economy, past relationships, emerging relationships, football, politics, current trends, employment, the fall season lineup, religion, same sex marriage, utility bills, mortgage, rent, and this years haircut are all details designed to distract us from the big picture and keep us stuck in a quagmire of crap until we actually believe all this stuff IS our life. It's like saying a cross country road trip is the equivalent of working overtime to make your car payments.

The map isn't the territory.

Six months ago I was making orgonite and piecing together the big picture in a blissful forward progression of unknown discoveries. To me, the details of life that everyone else seems so obsessed with were so far removed from reality that they didn't deserve any more of my attention than an offhand comment or observation. By distancing myself from these details of life, I was able to see from a different perspective. Life was funny and full of secrets and these little secrets were emerging like the Wizard of Oz pulling back the curtain, millimeter by millimeter. I was on the path, merging with the universe and my forward progression was unblocked. I was as happy as I could be, under the circumstances.

Then, out from left field came the negative emotions. All of a sudden I was waist deep in emotional baggage that led me to emotional fights over such stupid details as politics, relationships, mis-communications, football, and petty tit-for-tat paybacks laced with mental disorders. This must be some level of hell Dante couldn't put his finger on.

The menu isn't the meal.

Then it came to me... Just release. Let go. Let it be. Like sands through the hourglass, all we are is dust in the wind, dude.
I let go, alright. I released my aspirations, my hopes, my dreams, my past relationships, my future relationships, my bills... I just let go of all the detritus that was holding me back and I could feel the Earth tethers unwind from my feet and I began to soar.

I went to work the next day to find I was the only one who got a quarterly bonus. I also got a merit increase in pay. As I was pondering this synchronicity, and how it coincided with my recent release, a new orgonite enhancement for my PVC CB entered my head in a fit of cosmic inspiration and I could feel the energy of universal love coursing through my whole nervous system.

Then it hit me... The reason I haven't been making orgonite is because of my negative emotions surrounding all these mundane details. I was actually repelled by my own orgonite, and now that I've become unblocked, I've become re-imbued with a vengeance.

Looks like I'll be busy the next couple of days. I'll keep ya posted.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


"Listening is not merely not talking, though even that is beyond most of our powers; it means taking a vigorous, human interest in what is being told us."
-Alice Deur Miller

Friday, September 18, 2009

Monday, September 14, 2009

Friday, September 11, 2009

an open letter to the ex club

Eowyn, if I didn't know any better I'd say you knew all about love and relationships. Your blog is teeming with advice like compromise, listening to the other persons needs, both working to make it work, etc. I completely agree with you that a couple needs to communicate and strive to understand each other and compromise on issues in order to resolve them.

We never had any problems during the daylight hours. In fact, you were a joy to be with. Your eyes sparkled when I talked to you and I was comfortable with you as my best friend. My days off consisted of us driving to the flea market or having sushi for lunch or any simple adventure from checking out farmers markets, gathering supplies for a new project, or hanging around the homestead working in the yard. Since you weren't working, you would bring me lunch and we would share a few moments in the middle of the day and each morning you kissed me goodbye as I left for work. You had it made. I paid the bills, bought food, and kept you in rum and tobacco. All you had to do was buy a supply once in awhile and give me a few bucks when you felt like it. I put a roof over your head, because you were about to lose yours, and even paid your car insurance.

But night time was the problem. Around 4pm you would start your daily ritual of coffee and rum and by 9pm you stopped using coffee altogether, preferring straight rum by the cupful. I used to be alarmed as I sat downstairs and heard loud crashes telegraphing though the house when you fell off your chair in a drunken stupor. You never seemed to hurt yourself, so I learned to stop worrying. When you finally drank enough, you'd wander into the bedroom and demand food that usually consisted of something I made for dinner hours ago that you never ate because you don't have an appetite when you drink, which was every, single, day. I tried to tell you how anyone who drinks the way you do without eating is going to die. I reminded you, as did your doctor, how your liver can't handle this kind of abuse and booze and hepatitis don't mix. I also reminded you that your nightly, drunken, insane, obnoxious rants about how you hate movies because they aren't real and how Hollywood has lost their soul due to a total lack of morality and how you hate James Taylor because he broke up with Carly Simon and therefore, you refuse to listen to any of his music or watch any films he's in. Drunk girls can be fun if you pick them up on a Saturday night but the same drunken scene, every, single night of the year is overkill and nothing kills romance more than an obnoxious drunk with hepatitis. Although you were still my best friend, the alcohol and the late night fights made the love go away and I told you a long time ago, once it's gone, it's gone for good. But you would NOT compromise on your rum consumption. Say bye bye love.

I tried to compromise by suggesting we drink red wine instead of rum but you wouldn't go for that. I tried to get you to drink sensibly but that never lasted. You're own children tried to make you see what you were doing to yourself and they gave up in disgust. After more than enough late night fights passed I told you we can't live in the same house anymore and I offered to pay your first months rent, the security deposit and I'll even pay for the moving company. All you had to do was find a new place to live. You refused. You had your heels dug in and you weren't going anywhere. I made this offer dozens of times in the past couple years and I still have the check I made out to you for $2,000 just to leave.

All the time this was going on, everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Love and kisses, sunshine and roses, and not a worry in the world. Your facade masked our reality from everyone, which made you look all the more sleazy when everyone found out you and Dave, who you met just hours before, fornicated behind my garage in the pre-dawn hours of July 5th. It wasn't an act of drunken abandon because the liquor ran out hours ago, and before you fucked him you checked the house to make sure no one was awake. Well, I was awake and saw the whole thing and if I didn't say anything you'd still be here, pretending everything is just peachy keen.

My question to you is, if you wanted to leave so bad, why didn't you take me up on my offer and leave sooner? It can't possibly be because you fell in love with Dave. He was clearly a one night stand. He didn't even have a place where you could bang him while I was at work. I was watching him at the party smoking all your cigarettes when you weren't paying attention. He was hitting on at least two other women before he hit on you, but you were the only one to take him up on it. Does Dave love you? Sure, like a glutton loves his lunch. Just like I was your meal ticket, you're his meal ticket and he'll say anything you want to hear and you'll keep up the facade. Yeah, sounds like love to me.

The real question is... What woman wants a guy who hits on another guys girlfriend? What guy wants a woman who fucks someone she doesn't know on her boyfriends lawn while he's in the house? Apparently, each other. That's why you moved out of my house and in with him. Because no one else wants either of you. That, and extreme shame.

And I'm the bad guy. I'm the one with anger issues. I'm the one who made your life so miserable. The reality is I showed remarkable restraint, under the circumstances. Anyone else would've shot you both before you pulled up your pants.

Ya know, I would have preferred you came to me that night and say, "I wanna fuck this guy." At least I would have had a little respect for you.

Angelzwild... What a piece of work. You've been waiting in the wings for Eowyn to leave so you can step right in. You managed to convince me that your past irrational behavior was all because of drugs and since you are off the drugs you're as normal as apple pie. All it took to convince me otherwise was a phone call while we were on IM. The attack you fired at me through email, IM, and phone calls were enough to make me realize it wasn't the drugs... it was YOU. You're just a very fucked up individual who gets her jollies by making crude comments about me on my own blog and glorifying Eowyn for escaping my psychic vampirism and actually make it sound justifiable and rational to fuck a homeless, dirtbag, crack head as the only means of escape. You send the most vile crap to me in every email address you know, only to call up five minutes later and apologize and do it again while you're still talking and telling me your sorry. And you tell me you do this because I didn't send you a "thank you" for some link you emailed me. A half hour after you slam me in a comment, you call to tell me you and two of your friends are coming up to spend the week at my place and I should be happy about that. AS IF! You can't be trusted, you're insincere, you turn on people you call your friends and then wonder why no one likes you. It's a good thing you're agoraphobic and a woman because if you were a man you'd be either in prison or six feet under. Hell, I know at least four woman who would like nothing more than to drive to your house and beat you bloody for being such a vile trouble maker, and they never even met you. From day 1 you never believed one, single thing I ever told you. You believe everyone else, no matter what they say. If Eowyn tells you something about me it's the truth and you act on it. Eowyn is a lot smarter than you are and you're too stupid to realize you're being played. FOOL!

If I have any anger issues it's only with these two pathetic losers who wouldn't know love if it slapped them in the face. One needs love so bad she'll settle for anything. The other is so particular she'll never settle for anything.

Well, I have my freedom and there's many more women out there looking for relationships than guys and I'm not afraid of dying alone, as Angelzwild is so fond of reminding everyone. But these two girls are scared shitless of dying alone, and they have my deepest sympathies.

Now, let's put these dogs to rest.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

rita says...

Rita says bite me!