I just want to punch the ever-loving hell out of someone's smug mug.
On a lighter note, I am getting married! Again! This time to a heterosexual woman that enjoys cock! That, I must say, is reason enough to celebrate with a few shots of vodka. Which I have already done, several times over...and over and over and over. But that's just how that fucking cookie crumbles. It crumbles right into a shot glass. Which I drink. Lesson over, test on the material tomorrow, failures will be subject to smug-mug punching.
Note: I do not subscribe to the mass hysteria of marriage. I know that happiness does not come from a ring, or a contract, or a person, or a bottle. I just want to have a family in tandem with this life of war. I am selfish and stupid, but I think I am at the point where I am able to juggle multiple lives and come out in the end with everything that the American dream has etched into the aim of my life's plans. It's the eye of the tiger.
On a more serious note, i aim ever onward and upward but have found myself spiraling in all directions other than onward and upward. Yesterday and last year play themselves out over and over again on the dark side of my eyelids every day. I say goodbye, and the reels keep rolling. I push harder, and they push right back. How in the name of Christ is a man supposed to lay dead dogs to rest when they keep howling and biting in the night?
If you can tell me the answer to that one, dear sirs/madams, I will buy you a coke.
(instagram) @sociopoliticopath
On a lighter note, I am getting married! Again! This time to a heterosexual woman that enjoys cock! That, I must say, is reason enough to celebrate with a few shots of vodka. Which I have already done, several times over...and over and over and over. But that's just how that fucking cookie crumbles. It crumbles right into a shot glass. Which I drink. Lesson over, test on the material tomorrow, failures will be subject to smug-mug punching.
Note: I do not subscribe to the mass hysteria of marriage. I know that happiness does not come from a ring, or a contract, or a person, or a bottle. I just want to have a family in tandem with this life of war. I am selfish and stupid, but I think I am at the point where I am able to juggle multiple lives and come out in the end with everything that the American dream has etched into the aim of my life's plans. It's the eye of the tiger.
On a more serious note, i aim ever onward and upward but have found myself spiraling in all directions other than onward and upward. Yesterday and last year play themselves out over and over again on the dark side of my eyelids every day. I say goodbye, and the reels keep rolling. I push harder, and they push right back. How in the name of Christ is a man supposed to lay dead dogs to rest when they keep howling and biting in the night?
If you can tell me the answer to that one, dear sirs/madams, I will buy you a coke.
(instagram) @sociopoliticopath
The conditions of a solitary bird are five:
The first, that it flies to the highest point;
The second, that it does not suffer for company, not even of its own kind;
The third, that it aims its beak to the skies;
The fourth, that it does not have a definite color;
The fifth, that it sings very softly.
Unless you're a mother fucking war eagle. Then the fifth is more like "you sing like Robert Plant."
Also, I am addicted now to instagram. @Sociopoliticopath. Check it out, or comment with your own instagram id.
The first, that it flies to the highest point;
The second, that it does not suffer for company, not even of its own kind;
The third, that it aims its beak to the skies;
The fourth, that it does not have a definite color;
The fifth, that it sings very softly.
Unless you're a mother fucking war eagle. Then the fifth is more like "you sing like Robert Plant."
Also, I am addicted now to instagram. @Sociopoliticopath. Check it out, or comment with your own instagram id.
Some would say that three months just isn't enough time to give a relationship before moving in together. This should hold doubly true for a three-month old relationship during which I have been on the road for more than half of it. That may contribute to the euphoria and success, but that remains to be seen. We're moving in together. I am kinda stoked.
In other news I have been offered a job that would negate my obligation to deploy to Afghanistan with my reserve unit. The caveat? I am going to Afghanistan with my new employer instead. For much more pay. Again, I am kinda stoked.
In not so amazing news: the past five years (or so it seems...according to my calendar it has only been twelve days) I have been subjected to roughly 200 million hours of powerpoint presentations and monotonous presenters. I spend half of the time struggling to stay awake by downing cup after cup of coffee, and the other half completely asleep. During a period of hazy half-dreams today I perceived my surroundings in high contrast colors, and my peers as abstracts. They were all simple shapes of color moving in unison. I imagined that my head was like a boulder under a slow waterfall, and the steady impact of water (like chinese powerpoint water torture) was slowly eroding the surface until almost near a critical point, the point at which the pressure of sleepiness and frustration and incoherent dream thoughts would be greater than my fractured skull's finite capacity for retention. Then, like a fleshy volcano, my head erupted. Gallons of grey matter and skull fragments and alligators and crab nebulae shot forth in the full vivid spectrum of visible color across the entirety of the conference room and over every cartoonish person around me.
Now, I am awake. But soon the two lunesta I took will take over and I will be asleep. I like sleep. A lot. Wake me up when it's time to go back to Georgia.
Oh, I'm in New Jersey right now. If you have seen the show and are wondering if that really is how the Shore is... worry no more. The whole state is like that, but worse. Fist-pumping fake-tanned assholes everywhere.
In other news I have been offered a job that would negate my obligation to deploy to Afghanistan with my reserve unit. The caveat? I am going to Afghanistan with my new employer instead. For much more pay. Again, I am kinda stoked.
In not so amazing news: the past five years (or so it seems...according to my calendar it has only been twelve days) I have been subjected to roughly 200 million hours of powerpoint presentations and monotonous presenters. I spend half of the time struggling to stay awake by downing cup after cup of coffee, and the other half completely asleep. During a period of hazy half-dreams today I perceived my surroundings in high contrast colors, and my peers as abstracts. They were all simple shapes of color moving in unison. I imagined that my head was like a boulder under a slow waterfall, and the steady impact of water (like chinese powerpoint water torture) was slowly eroding the surface until almost near a critical point, the point at which the pressure of sleepiness and frustration and incoherent dream thoughts would be greater than my fractured skull's finite capacity for retention. Then, like a fleshy volcano, my head erupted. Gallons of grey matter and skull fragments and alligators and crab nebulae shot forth in the full vivid spectrum of visible color across the entirety of the conference room and over every cartoonish person around me.
Now, I am awake. But soon the two lunesta I took will take over and I will be asleep. I like sleep. A lot. Wake me up when it's time to go back to Georgia.
Oh, I'm in New Jersey right now. If you have seen the show and are wondering if that really is how the Shore is... worry no more. The whole state is like that, but worse. Fist-pumping fake-tanned assholes everywhere.
I'm a week into this level 2 hand-to-hand class (MAC) and I will readily admit to being sore as all hell. Bruises everywhere, my joints are all stiff and screaming, and I have mat burn on my back, elbows, knees...
I don't even wanna have a drink. But I'm gonna. Because I'm that disciplined.
I was gonna post body transformation pics soon, but thanksgiving is still hanging out around the midsection and all the beer has taken a toll. I'll spare the world those insufferable pics at least until I'm back in fighting form.
How is everyone?
I don't even wanna have a drink. But I'm gonna. Because I'm that disciplined.
I was gonna post body transformation pics soon, but thanksgiving is still hanging out around the midsection and all the beer has taken a toll. I'll spare the world those insufferable pics at least until I'm back in fighting form.
How is everyone?
Things have been nothing short of spectacular over the past few weeks, although very little has happened or changed at all. Might as well touch on meds for a sec: the shit my doc put me on was horrible. I was stuck in a dual-existence kind of state where my emotional responses were inextricably excised from the daily ebb and flow, and I still experienced the kind of meltdown that paralyzed me in hysterics on several occasions in the past. I honestly don't know what my triggers are, not at all. Before meds, yeah, i was all over the place but entirely functional and then I found myself in a series of ups and downs that I haven't ever experienced while under the care of docs with access to the finest pharmaceuticals that my uninsured ass can buy. Now? That shit is in the past and I'm just gonna ride this buckin' bronco of an emotional rollercoaster all the way to the grave. How fucking worth it are meds that keep you from feeling the highs and productive motivation of mania while still allowing the floor to fall out from under you? I wish they would prescribe heroin...
Oh, speaking of heroin, the narcotic painkillers that I got when I landed in the trees and fell about 30 ft were absolutely ineffective. Why? Because the efficacy of narcotics lies in their ability to bring on euphoria. You still feel pain, but just don't give a fuck. The psych meds my doc put me on even prevented me from feeling the euphoria... no pleasure, no quarter. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Not really, but I'm sure you follow.
Thanksgiving was awesome. As usual, I gave thanks that I do not live on a reservation like the rest of the families of the original guests of that smallpox-laden dinner now find themselves. Yeah yeah yeah, they can have peyote and casinos, but is that really a fair trade? I think not. Fuck you, pilgrims, and your prude customs and clothes. I actually spent the weekend meeting my gf's extended family. They all absolutely love me, so I guess that means I'm in. it's kind of nice to experience the family togetherness that a close family brings to the holidays. I'm afraid my old ass might be ready to drop some roots... After Afghanistan, of course.
Now, speaking of my gf. She has honestly broadened my cultural horizons beyond what I could ever imagine. Before I met her I roundly rejected the kind of music she listens to just on the grounds that the lyrics are total trite garbage, if not nonsense. But after seeing her work that Cuban ass on the dance floor, I have a new respect for that booty-shaking music. I've also learned to blend into the urban culture with new language skillz, like "girl, let me at that monkey," and "my flats look like flapjacks, pancakes, you know!" On a serious note, those artists really may be legally retarded. Who the fuck says that? But as long as she can shake it like a pom pom, I'll continue listening.
Next week I start a 2-week hand-to-hand course that I am completely stoked for. Getting my ass whooped for 13 straight days is exactly what the doctor ordered. Bring it.
That is all. I hope this finds you all well and warm and full of turkey and beer and vodka and good tunes.
Now listening to:
Oh, speaking of heroin, the narcotic painkillers that I got when I landed in the trees and fell about 30 ft were absolutely ineffective. Why? Because the efficacy of narcotics lies in their ability to bring on euphoria. You still feel pain, but just don't give a fuck. The psych meds my doc put me on even prevented me from feeling the euphoria... no pleasure, no quarter. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Not really, but I'm sure you follow.
Thanksgiving was awesome. As usual, I gave thanks that I do not live on a reservation like the rest of the families of the original guests of that smallpox-laden dinner now find themselves. Yeah yeah yeah, they can have peyote and casinos, but is that really a fair trade? I think not. Fuck you, pilgrims, and your prude customs and clothes. I actually spent the weekend meeting my gf's extended family. They all absolutely love me, so I guess that means I'm in. it's kind of nice to experience the family togetherness that a close family brings to the holidays. I'm afraid my old ass might be ready to drop some roots... After Afghanistan, of course.
Now, speaking of my gf. She has honestly broadened my cultural horizons beyond what I could ever imagine. Before I met her I roundly rejected the kind of music she listens to just on the grounds that the lyrics are total trite garbage, if not nonsense. But after seeing her work that Cuban ass on the dance floor, I have a new respect for that booty-shaking music. I've also learned to blend into the urban culture with new language skillz, like "girl, let me at that monkey," and "my flats look like flapjacks, pancakes, you know!" On a serious note, those artists really may be legally retarded. Who the fuck says that? But as long as she can shake it like a pom pom, I'll continue listening.
Next week I start a 2-week hand-to-hand course that I am completely stoked for. Getting my ass whooped for 13 straight days is exactly what the doctor ordered. Bring it.
That is all. I hope this finds you all well and warm and full of turkey and beer and vodka and good tunes.
Now listening to:
The meds are sure working. My highs aren't as high and my lows are easily manageable, although I still go to opposite extremes. The delineation of my mind and emotions is so evident now. The meds seem to keep my mind in a state of calm equilibrium while my emotions run the usual gamut from misery to fantastic. They are like two separate and discordant strings vibrating on a violin, one wild and loud and staccato, the other an obfuscating mellow sustained C. Every once in a while the two hum in harmony, and everything is like the still surface of a lake on a windless day.
What I'm missing out on now, though, is really FEELING anything. When I'm up there's no happiness, and when I'm down there is no sadness. I've met and been dating the most amazing girl in the whole fucking world, and she has every admirable trait for which you could think to ask. But there is no love. She deserves more than that... but less than the wild ride of BPD.
BT-dubs, for my 30th bday I participated in an airborne op up in virginia. Naturally, I was the only one who couldn't steer my chute well enough (since I was snapping pics with my camera phone, but I certainly couldn't confess to that) and landed in the trees. I was suspended about 50 ft above the forest floor, so I had plenty of time to think about all of the decisions I've made to bring me to that point; hanging by a parachute above an unforgiving ground. I opened my reserve and let it fall to the earth, unhooked my harness, and tried to climb down. Believe me when I say that parachute cord is NOT meant for climbing. In fact, it's hard as hell to grip and burns like a MOTHERFUCKER when you slide down it. So I climbed about five feet down, slid another 10, then finally lost it and fell the rest of the way right on my ass while one leg was still wrapped up in the chute. Again I found myself thinking about my poor decision making skills. What a blast.
If this is a sign of what my thirties hold in store for me... all I have to say is "Bring it the fuck on!"
What I'm missing out on now, though, is really FEELING anything. When I'm up there's no happiness, and when I'm down there is no sadness. I've met and been dating the most amazing girl in the whole fucking world, and she has every admirable trait for which you could think to ask. But there is no love. She deserves more than that... but less than the wild ride of BPD.
BT-dubs, for my 30th bday I participated in an airborne op up in virginia. Naturally, I was the only one who couldn't steer my chute well enough (since I was snapping pics with my camera phone, but I certainly couldn't confess to that) and landed in the trees. I was suspended about 50 ft above the forest floor, so I had plenty of time to think about all of the decisions I've made to bring me to that point; hanging by a parachute above an unforgiving ground. I opened my reserve and let it fall to the earth, unhooked my harness, and tried to climb down. Believe me when I say that parachute cord is NOT meant for climbing. In fact, it's hard as hell to grip and burns like a MOTHERFUCKER when you slide down it. So I climbed about five feet down, slid another 10, then finally lost it and fell the rest of the way right on my ass while one leg was still wrapped up in the chute. Again I found myself thinking about my poor decision making skills. What a blast.
If this is a sign of what my thirties hold in store for me... all I have to say is "Bring it the fuck on!"
This past week was pretty intense.
My soon-to-be ex wife came out to Georgia for a visit, and pretty much blew my mind. The day she got here we went out to get something to eat, got a little drunk, and ended up hanging out with a bunch of the occupy wall street protesters (who, it turns out, have no idea what they are protesting against besides the status quo. They're basically bitching because they're not rich). Few of them appeared even remotely groomed, and there were several juggalo-looking kids in clown paint. I can't imagine why no one takes them seriously.
The next day I did a little photo shoot with the old lady and we again got a little drunk. Pretty much whenever I see her, the time we spend together is saturated with vodka, whiskey, and beer. From here on out in this blog just understand that drunkeness is implied. This is one shot, unedited:
After that we went to a BDSM convention in Atlanta. Right when we walked into the hotel I saw a blonde barbie-doll looking woman in tight pink latex and a leash leading a fat man on all fours across the lobby. He, of course, was ball-gagged and looked like he was loving it. So... we went straight to the bar. That's when a man with no hair whatsoever (like a legit chemo patient) approached my wife to chat her up. Cool. I didn't feel much like talking to either of them. Anyway, this guy is also in latex, but his getup is made to look like a sexy maid's outfit. I overhead just enough of the conversation to feel quite glad that I was not involved. "i'm not gay or bi," he said. "but if you wanna stick a dick in my mouth go right ahead." Dear god, sir, I think you are confused. Dicks anywhere near mouths are a big deal.
We left the hotel to go to the after party in "Atlanta's Premiere Dungeon." Photography was only permitted in one room, and with the consent of those being photographed, so ipso facto I got no really good pics to share with you, but rest assured I saw plenty of naked people getting flogged and whipped and such. So that was interesting. (it should be noted that about 80% of the people there were kind of... nerdy)
Back to the hotel. The abbreviated version is my wife pierced my back all along my tattoo and inserted feathers to make it look real wings, then we posed for some pics and I practically shot soft-core porno. The next day, as if I hadn't received enough of a culture shock already, she took me to Pride. Apparently everyone is gay, because there were about a billion people there. I was for sure the minority. That I did get pictures of. Here's one:
Also, my wife brought both of her dogs, and my little lady friend is staying with us for a bit while she sorts through her break-up, and she has three dogs of her own, so in one swift stroke the occupancy of my townhouse swelled to four adults and seven dogs. Shit has been chaotic. The plus side is that she (not my wife) is a total sweetheart, smart, and seems to be pretty into me. Things are looking up.
I also traded in my Jeep for an economically responsible little coupe... that still stings quite a bit.
I think shit can only get calmer from here.
My soon-to-be ex wife came out to Georgia for a visit, and pretty much blew my mind. The day she got here we went out to get something to eat, got a little drunk, and ended up hanging out with a bunch of the occupy wall street protesters (who, it turns out, have no idea what they are protesting against besides the status quo. They're basically bitching because they're not rich). Few of them appeared even remotely groomed, and there were several juggalo-looking kids in clown paint. I can't imagine why no one takes them seriously.
The next day I did a little photo shoot with the old lady and we again got a little drunk. Pretty much whenever I see her, the time we spend together is saturated with vodka, whiskey, and beer. From here on out in this blog just understand that drunkeness is implied. This is one shot, unedited:
After that we went to a BDSM convention in Atlanta. Right when we walked into the hotel I saw a blonde barbie-doll looking woman in tight pink latex and a leash leading a fat man on all fours across the lobby. He, of course, was ball-gagged and looked like he was loving it. So... we went straight to the bar. That's when a man with no hair whatsoever (like a legit chemo patient) approached my wife to chat her up. Cool. I didn't feel much like talking to either of them. Anyway, this guy is also in latex, but his getup is made to look like a sexy maid's outfit. I overhead just enough of the conversation to feel quite glad that I was not involved. "i'm not gay or bi," he said. "but if you wanna stick a dick in my mouth go right ahead." Dear god, sir, I think you are confused. Dicks anywhere near mouths are a big deal.
We left the hotel to go to the after party in "Atlanta's Premiere Dungeon." Photography was only permitted in one room, and with the consent of those being photographed, so ipso facto I got no really good pics to share with you, but rest assured I saw plenty of naked people getting flogged and whipped and such. So that was interesting. (it should be noted that about 80% of the people there were kind of... nerdy)
Back to the hotel. The abbreviated version is my wife pierced my back all along my tattoo and inserted feathers to make it look real wings, then we posed for some pics and I practically shot soft-core porno. The next day, as if I hadn't received enough of a culture shock already, she took me to Pride. Apparently everyone is gay, because there were about a billion people there. I was for sure the minority. That I did get pictures of. Here's one:
Also, my wife brought both of her dogs, and my little lady friend is staying with us for a bit while she sorts through her break-up, and she has three dogs of her own, so in one swift stroke the occupancy of my townhouse swelled to four adults and seven dogs. Shit has been chaotic. The plus side is that she (not my wife) is a total sweetheart, smart, and seems to be pretty into me. Things are looking up.
I also traded in my Jeep for an economically responsible little coupe... that still stings quite a bit.
I think shit can only get calmer from here.
I've been all over the place lately, and as ridiculous as it reads I think my dog just intuitively knows where my head is at. When I'm up he is all high-energy with me, and when I'm down he's ridiculously affectionate. He really is a man's best friend. And I learned that retail therapy is not just for women. I don't go clothes shopping (i HATE it, i just give my sister money and send her to get me shit to wear) but dropped a dime or two on a new lens for my camera, the Tamron 10-24mm ultra wide angle aspherical something something. Fuckin sweet. Also, some Kings of Leon albums and fried chicken from Raisin Cane's. My one junk food vice besides NOS energy drinks.
My estranged wife is coming to visit this week. Her profession is all fetish-related and I'm a little unclear on the details (mostly because I just don't ask) but she is taking me to the Atlanta DomCon. I need to check out the website and see if they allow picture taking... if they do, pics will definitely be following this up. "Relax inhibitions" is on my bucket list, and may just get checked off this week. She's got some pretty amazing friends... Eh, maybe I'll keep her.
Yeah, right.
I sold my xbox on amazon today, too. I think I'm like, a grown up now or something. I thought about cutting my hair and shaving, maybe putting on something other than a hoodie, but that's just too much for one day.
Also, as inconsequential as this is to you all, the cool weather has me sleeping like a baby now without the sleep meds. I was out for about 10 hours last night, and when I woke up the house was 62 degrees and abso-fucking-lutely wonderful, quiet, and comfortable.
I see the doc on Tuesday. Anyone on sweet pills let me know what you said to get them. I would forever be in your debt.
Peace...but not too much, and not in the Middle East, because then I'd be out of a job.
My estranged wife is coming to visit this week. Her profession is all fetish-related and I'm a little unclear on the details (mostly because I just don't ask) but she is taking me to the Atlanta DomCon. I need to check out the website and see if they allow picture taking... if they do, pics will definitely be following this up. "Relax inhibitions" is on my bucket list, and may just get checked off this week. She's got some pretty amazing friends... Eh, maybe I'll keep her.
Yeah, right.
I sold my xbox on amazon today, too. I think I'm like, a grown up now or something. I thought about cutting my hair and shaving, maybe putting on something other than a hoodie, but that's just too much for one day.
Also, as inconsequential as this is to you all, the cool weather has me sleeping like a baby now without the sleep meds. I was out for about 10 hours last night, and when I woke up the house was 62 degrees and abso-fucking-lutely wonderful, quiet, and comfortable.
I see the doc on Tuesday. Anyone on sweet pills let me know what you said to get them. I would forever be in your debt.
Peace...but not too much, and not in the Middle East, because then I'd be out of a job.
NEW new ink:
edit, delete. These pictures sucked. I will put up better ones later.
All righty, here we go:
I was immeasurably more excited while getting this tattoo than I was during (and after) my last one. This is FO SHO the artist I will stick with while in Georgia.
edit, delete. These pictures sucked. I will put up better ones later.
All righty, here we go:
I was immeasurably more excited while getting this tattoo than I was during (and after) my last one. This is FO SHO the artist I will stick with while in Georgia.
