It’s Not You, It’s Me

This happens every few years; trust me. It’s a fine-tuned piece of clockwork that gets out of sync, needing an equally fine-tuned piece of Norse, hammer technology to carefully bring it back into precise alignment. Even gentlemen in tailored day suits and monocles cannot predict it, nor can they prevent it. Despite the best scientists, regardless of the bones and tea leaves used to foretell its coming, the shit happens. You may know not “when” but you can plan bowel movements and bets around the certainty.

Blogging Under The Stars

Soon I will be in the desert, in a city built for 1200 people; a city built to vanish without a trace. “Under the Stars”, I’ll be writing words, taking pictures and sending these out on tenuous wavelengths for others to read.

Poorly Made Things

Back to the writing…from something I’ve been working on for some time; just a glimpse.

Watching the patterns of men, women and their children reminds me of something I read once…

Douche Hat

I need a douche hat…and a shitty car with a soup-can muffler.

While you’re giving me gifts, why not some mid ’90’s economy sedan with plenty of space under the hood for superchargers, turbos, cold air intakes and enough trunk space to stuff a few bass cannons so I might make my brain hemorrhage.

Dark Things On Our Bent Horizon

There are dark things on our bent horizon... I built this site to be pretty clear push to the name I actually use when I write things for myself, that I want to have published in that name. Back in that day, I was just going to dedicate it strictly to that. Now? Fuck...

A Long Time Gone

I’ve been a long time gone…

Not slacking or slouching the time away. The hours spent changing things were well spent. Time passed on planes, travelling to distant lands; time spent building a new, solo company–doing my thing, my way. I’ve been constructing a foundation for “what I want”, but not always able to do the “want” vs. the “need”.

The recent past…in writing

Failing Happiness

Failing Happiness is the place of wilting, not dying, wilting. I can't generalize for everyone suffering from Mental Illness, I won't speak for them; if anything, this shit is so random my own descriptions can't really match up to anyone else. I do know...

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Hail Mary

Life doesn’t stop between posts, it just…degrades.

I am out of options, hitting for the fences now. 

I really, really hate mental illness.

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2018 Harley Davidson FXBR, Breakout

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018 is over! A couple of weekends ago I bought a 2018 Harley Davidson FXBR, Breakout.

And since this damn blog shares a lot of words about riding, and since Spivey (my 2014 Yamaha Bolt R-Spec) is now in the loving hands of my daughter; you’re going to hear a lot about this 2018 Harley Davidson Breakout.

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Pessimistic Idealism

My dreams are woven from dark fabric; bound in smoke and fire – embellished with tears. Yet, to see such decoration our eyes need light. It is pointless to weave intricate patterns that cannot be seen. There can never be destruction without creation.

Pessimistic pondering must be balanced by Idealism, or the entire dream collapses into depthless nightmare.

So, yes. I am a man with Pessimistic Idealism driving my thoughts. Since nothing is mutually inclusive, these two clashing concepts work in balance to create some future vision. I think they birth Hope…and a fragile Faith.

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The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018 Spivey is now in the loving hands of my daughter. He was a faithful steed and I miss him. But I am very happy he is where he is.   Searching... This Spring I will get my next bike. Since I have a habit of researching...

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Toxicity

Toxicity …is everywhere, and it’s seeping into life — both waking and sleeping. This is what I’m doing about it.

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Isolation

White Supremacists in the Full-Time RV community have forced me to deactivate my FaceBook account. Old friends are not really speaking to me right now. We have one car, so while Julie’s at work I’m land-bound.

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Videos…no writing here

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