hyenahell

I'm back... from the dead! WoOoOo... spooky.



Good day for an update, no? I figure it's only fitting I crawl back up from the bowels of obscurity on such an ominous milestone.

Woke up today at 3pm to the worst hailstorm I've ever seen. We're talkin' golf-ball sized hail, out of the blue, as they say. And when it hits, that shit bounces higher than you'd imagine anything made of water could. It was awesome; that is, in the awe-inspiring sense, not in the "Whoa, dude, it's dollar slice night at the pizza joint! That's awesome!" sense.

Speaking of awe-inspiring, because I'm almost certain I just was...

I just got back from Indianapolis. Rhys and I drove 14 hours for the IWA Kind of the Death Match tournament. For those of you unacquainted with death match wrestling, do a quick search on the internet. I promise it will be unlike anything you've ever seen. And seeing it live was just amazing. I'll brush over all the gory details, because I do have two rolls of film that, once developed, will testify to the carnage much better than I ever could. I promise an update all about that trip, because it deserves an update all of its own.

Rewinding, a bit- heh. I once wrote a song called "the tape deck in my head's stuck on rewind"... it was a country song, undoubtedly. But. Rewind.



The past few months have been pretty rough for me. I'm sure any of you who know me in the least bit are familiar with my cyclical "black moods". But, after managing to drag myself up out of this most recent trip to hell, I've made a real fucking effort to get my life back on track. Yeah, yeah, and I know you've sure as fuck heard that one before, too. You just hit rock bottom hard enough sometimes that it wakes something up in you. Or it knocks you out.

And I apologise, that imagery conjurged death match memories, of Spider Boudreaux taking the second-to worse bump I've ever seen, a cop killer to the ring post, head-first, and about five feet from yours truly's feet, I might add. But, remarkably, he got up.

I did too. And I intend to stay on my fucking feet this time, thank you very much. This time I'm going to try and scale the walls, climb all the way out of hell and rejoin the land of the living once more, instead of getting half way up and losing my grip, getting knocked down, or just simply giving up.

I'm not saying that I don't still have moments of prolonged fucking bleakness, of utter hopelessness, but they're more like blips on the radar rather than all-encompassing storms of desolation. I ain't right, don't get me wrong. But I'm doing much better than I have been since before the hurricane, honestly. And it might turn out to be as fleeting as all the highs that came before, butI'll be fucking damned if I'm not going to ride it for as long as I can.

So. I'm sorry to everyone that I neglected or ignored or otherwise sold short. I love you guys, really, and miss you. And I'm sure if you've hung on to me for this long, you'll understand that sometimes I just need to disappear. But I'm back, I promise.

Continuing, because it's already apparent that chronology's been blown to hell on this one...



I'm back in Greenville for a couple days, then I'm heading back north to see my parents for a week or so. During that vacation we're taking a little mini-vacation to New Orleans for a couple days. Then back to Kentucky, then I come back to Greenville. So that's a good two weeks or more away from my job. I'm beside myself with joy, really I am.

And I'm thinking seriously that all this time off is going to make me walk back into work, look around, and say, "You know what? Fuck you guys. I'm outta here, suckers." I certainly hope so. It wouldn't be the first time I quit a job without having anything else lined up. of course, I was making much more money back then, and had a little cushion to soften the blow of poverty a bit. Not this time. I have a little under a bill fifty in my account, which has to last until July. Ha. No way. That's not even enough for cigarettes. So I figure if I'm going to be broke, and mooching off other folks, why the hell should I have to work to do it? Fuckin' hell. You know what? I tried life in the straight world. I'd even say I gave it my honest best. And what did I get for it? Fucking misery, in spades.

So fuck the straight world, once and for all. I renounce it, with you as my wittnesses. Time to take a hint from the date and do something for my self, for a change, and damn the consequences. Time to believe for a change that I am better than that. That I deserve better. Time to start living the way I want to live. And really, that does not include a fucking drive-thru Starbucks job, and never did. I issue a resounding, "Fuck that shit". On with my real life, as starting today.

And I cross my fingers and spit, that this time, it's gonna stick.

What else, what else? It's been so long. I feel like I'm missing some crucial bit of news. I'll rack my poor, thick skull for interesting stories and happenings in the world of Hyena Hell, if you promise to give me a paragraph each of shit that I've missed during my stint as a corpse. And it better be good.

Okay, I'm signing off. Love, love, and love, amidst the fog of anger and confusion. Today is a beautiful day, I assure you. Go make the most of it.



Love to you all,
and onward, always-
Hyena Hell
06.06.06.