woke up early

then promptly took a nap.

last night the sound of glass breaking alerted me into action - pistol in hand I searched the house then the grounds around my home and my mother-in-laws - It was a sound that I've been dreading but there was, thankfully nothing or no one about.
After I awoke to every little noise and shadow movement perceived through half closed eyes.

most of the time these sounds and such as faces on the outside of the widow are of my minds making but K had heard it as well. I can only imagine what was going through the neighbors heads at one thirty if they saw me walking around with pistol pointed out - flashlight and laser on. I drew down on a raccoon who appeared scared shitless to have been met with the business end and a laser pointing at its head. The trigger was not pulled - otherwise this would be a story about how I am the killer of raccoons.

 and now for something of a tangent

One of my favorite artists is completing yet another painting that I want - this makes more than I can count. I only own one of his but I want more to adorn the walls of my writing room and home. His art challenges me to write and paint and love  - check him out here - HERE! - Warning: he doesn't sell his art which is a serious loss to folks like me.

I've been victimized but refuse to play the part of victim. I have survived but instead decide to live as on who persists.

living with contradictions

living with contradictions,

feigning indifference.

I persist.

 - Hoc Scripsi

My Child is singing in the next room - I love to hear him and he makes up his own songs, rarely singing that written by others. He is influenced only by life and finds its best expression in song and poetry.

SSI

Finished applying for Disability and now onto the appointment with SS for the SSI - this is the hardest thing I've ever done and now the bees are circling - damn allergy is going to bring me inside for awhile. I've had to beat my heart against this wall to do it, admit that I am disabled and unable to secure work, meaningful or not - any work. There are only so many hours in the day that I can be really active and usually those are spent on my wife and son, writing and Legos. Legos are the shit.

what is that wetness??

abrupt wake up in where I considered shooting my wife's cat. Little bastard pissed on my blanket to awaken me - which is odd as I don't feed them - ever. That is K's responsibility - I clean out the litter box and pet them - one sleeps on me sometimes and is my buddy (he had never pissed on my blanket which ended up on my foot), good cat he is.
I'll have to dig it up and finish it sometime today but I once wrote a little thing about cleaning up after the cats, a miserable job but I have the olfactory senses that allow me to be instantly reminded to get it done asap.
Having a great sense of smell is not a blessing though, I also have olfactory hallucinations where at any time I will smell something so powerfully it makes me light headed - sometimes it's all roses and candy or chicken - other times it's all feces and rot. I've sussed no pattern to it.

I've only six followers here - why? I only blog when I feel like it and the public is fickle, they want entertainment every day or they forget you exist. that is okay, this is a place for me to write and sharing is a sideline because I somehow feel better about it once I've hit "publish post".

?

What day is it? Monday? D-Day? going soon to get my head shrunk though I've no illusions of grandeur.
Spent the weekend tied to my laptop and when not, watching "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". Both versions played and there was some poetry written but not much. Today I owe letters to two friends, maybe three.
I am bound to this mind for eternity - as I am tethered to this coffee and cigarette for the next ten minutes.
I've no love for the wicked and therefore hold no hatred -
though I've a hard on in the wrong week and my mustache needs a trim.

contemplate my dis-ease, contemplate why it couldn't have been cancer.

I brush my teeth once a day - sometimes twice. I've stopped wearing deodorant as it causes me to itch and turn my armpits red, I need a shower and the ghosts in the windows are ever present while the noise screeches loudly like snow on a fifties television set.
I change my underwear and socks daily, but not my slacks - showering about two to three times per week keeps me clean and I have no particular scent that anyone finds offensive.
I wear shoes from the moment I awake to the moment I lay to sleep.
I drink Orange juice, water and coffee. rarely anything else -
I love guns, fine art and poetry. I love my wife and this is my advice for all - love yer wife, love yer life.

The death of Dr. K

Well, the right to death with appropriate dignity champion is gone and there is no one to take the mantle, who would? I can champion the right for others and possibly myself to die but there are no initials after my name, there are none that would find comfort in my own method of passing before God sees fit to do it on his/her own.
I'm thinking a .380 or a 9mm - nothing bigger or smaller as that would be messier than necessary or potentially ineffective. Nothing would be worse than dying in a mental institution for the suicidal - being grouped around the ineffective teenage angst of daddy doesn't get me or mommy wants me to pee sitting only - I would reccomend that you have pity on your loved ones and cover the joint in plastic and call 911 right before you pull the trigger.
Most people would want to go the good doctors way - peacefully and loaded on pain killers.
I just want to go out suddenly but I have a facination with being assassinated and my mother drempt of it and my son dreams of it - I wouldn't mind going out like that - like an honest poet.
The last poet to be gunned down was WIllie Lee Bell Jr - in front of his Florida night club - Before that Garcia Lorca who is my own hero - just give me a government to stand against... oh, yeah, I have that - only it is better than Franco while being as deceiving as Castro at times.
oops - I may lose all followers for that one... Maybe I ought to admit I voted for him as well, maybe I ought to admit that he has been a disappointment but possibly still better than the given alternative but this is about assisted suicide and the right to end our own lives.