Johis-rad

Sounds of the mountain came to him, even as he knew no passing of sun or stars or moon overhead. The passing of time caused an ache in him, even as he regarded, in a disembodied way, the aging of his bones and his flesh; the toll on his mind. He valued only isolation and the vantage point it gave him. It was an unchanging view of a world that was as it had been before his birth, and would be after that world reabsorbed him after death.

Fresh…and Moldy

I'm going to follow the lead of a friend and revive this thing, with a general purpose of some generalized stress relief. No, I won't go into a load of detail. The points aren't too important. What is important is the pain-making fact that those points are many; like...

Just Read It…

“…some considered me an embarrassment to the sport and wanted me to just go away.”

We make wheelchair ramps, we strive to fight cancer, we pass laws to fight behaviors leading to diabetes. Mental Illness? Hell no, put those people away; let’s not even talk to them.

Love us one minute, ignore or hate us the next…we live with enough darkness. The constant rejection just feeds the illness; it adds to our suicide rates (and that’s when friends and support seem to come out of nowhere…after we’re dead? We needed you before that!)

Some Progress on New Weathermen and…

Without giving away too much, I’m going to be telling the story of one of the least mentioned, but most important, characters in Mr. Rain and The Weathermen. Unfortunately, it’s a really different perspective and very tricky story to tell without going all technical, geeky and “intense”.

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…

The recent past…in writing

Failing Happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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