AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.

4/7/13

Rage 2

The only thing I hate more than being injured is... you guessed it.... nothing.  My body is my contract.  Without it I am a fish with no fins.  I hate it.  I hate it.   I HATE IT.  The only thing that hurts me more is my past.  What am I supposed to do when every breath of air costs me tears???  What the fuck am I supposed to do????  Pain fuels.  There are limits, but where do those limits lie?  Fake it til you make it, does not apply.  Results, god damnit.  I want results.  Not just for me, but for my boss.  Not just for my boss, but for my fucking friends.  I want to churn out at all times.  If it's not work I want to churn out fun.  If it's not fun I want to be churning out hobby.  If it's not hobby I want to be churning out nonsense.  Not to be aching on the handicapped, but fuck.  How do they live?  Not at all used to being limited in a physical sense.  I don't know how to handle it.  I can still do everything I could do, but the meter that tells me when I'm at 12 thousand revs is broken.  Simple things that wouldn't crack five hundred break two thousand.  Things that would demand seven tip out at ten.  Things that take ten to do bounce the needle off of the redline.  I'm not used to that.  No one should be.  What I'm going to have to do, if this does not resolve itself in the next week, is just shove the whole god damn scale North.  Fuck it.  I don't have time for this shit.  And neither do the people that depend on me.  I want what they want and come hell and high water it is raring up to decision time and I don't like it, but that's just the way it is sometimes.







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