This poem is a failure, but I'm not.

On Perfectionism, Cluttered Mind

Looked in the lint trash
What, a bucket of spiders?
But that's just my smarm, I mean
Charm, yes so charming, I

Feel I should tell
You: See, I am the kind
Of a man whose particles of rage all blend blisters into macrame
What? That's to say I only craft with vengeance, Art is Hell.

I'm not really sure, see, it seems I
have so many words inside and yet
No order, no syntax, no form, no norm.

Can't spin A.D.D. into gold, No,

I can't tremble, blink, then in that
Blink! Distill a miracle
Of words whose sentience, er,
Sentence myself to the chair,

The chair at the computer where,
Confounded,
I shiver and sigh, sob, eye.


Rosswell

Ideas for poems yet no new poems yet

And yeah sat talking about Surrender and thought of how fighting addiction with the mind instead of the heart could only end with one splayed out like a lamb gone to the wolves the throat all ripped and blood pumping heartbeat rhythmic life draining out

And yet that image resulted in nothing, there is no poem forthcoming, and

Pictured blueberry pie with splinters of glass in it, that's how I picture Heroin.

The fact that I don't have the answers doesn't mean I've stopped looking. I keep searching and thinking and obsessing and all this thought changes nothing, but hey, gotta stay occupied somehow right?

I am not sure why the world is As Is, No Warranty, I guess if there is a "God" then we were meant to figure it out for ourselves apparently because no Magic Sky Captain is parting the clouds and booming down voice all baritone to say, "Well, Ross, you want to know bad enough--obviously--so here's what's really going on."

Learning to be comfortable with not knowing the answer to what this is all about -- there's a goal worth striving toward, never for, because if I'm convinced that for (or forth-ward) there will be a solution to the equation then I'm in the same damn position anyhow -- or wait -- or

You see a horse in the field it's back all bowed like a comma yes that's the image I think of from here on when I pontificate on the never-ending way of the day to day...

Back may bend but will not break.

Ross

This is that is there is how now?

So. Going to the Wonder Ballroom on Thursday to watch Deerhunter & Real Estate. Pretty much exciting. Tyler got us...wait for it...On. The. List.

I love saying that.

Have lived in Portland for 2 months and I am...ON THE LIST. Yeah, I'm a pretty big deal.

Life has calmed down considerably this past week. I quit taking the Lexapro and am already feeling better. I honestly don't think I need antidepressants at this point. Why bother?

My mood swings were out of control while I was taking that garbage. It's better to be vaguely level-headed than to be all spastic and psycho...granted, I'm still a little bit psycho, but I hardly see how one could expect to NOT be at least a little psycho at 5 months clean.

I don't have much to say--just figured I should post something...um...I swear I'll post something more creative and artsy soon.

-R

Yes oh yes oh no oh okay

And so anyhow I found myself once more spiraling down that same old thread of negativity and pessimism and determined that perhaps a change of attitude was in order and what with this being a new life and all I decided that whaddaya know I pretty much have it within myself to be whatever I want to be and yes oh yes oh no oh okay I guess I'll go ahead and change my outlook and yes and

So then I decided that it was time to be a different person but it wasn't so easy as I had hoped it would be after all so it took a little while but slow and steady wins the race so I'm working on it day by day by

And by I came to the conclusion that whatever I've been doing has been working so I'm gonna go ahead and keep being something other than what I used to be because well what I was is just that -- was -- it's gone it's out it's over it's through I'm into a new way of life

The autumn shade comes drifting in all slowly honey-dripping speed it slithers its tongue along the bones we feel the chill I pray for rain I pray for rain and then remember "what am I praying to?" I don't have the answers I don't know who or what or where

I will remain open
I am done with anti-depressants
I am something other than that which is advertised on the teevee
I am I am I am sitting in the sunshine used up bruised up as a pear in a punching bag
Oh no I'm not that's what once was
it Was it WAS
it's not so much
It's now the now, the was is past, the past has passed good riddance, eh?

We are spiritual beings having a human experience.
This life is a dream, we are a dream experiencing itself.
Yes.

And the world spins on

For a little while there I thought we were at the dawn of a new age of enlightenment. To tell you the truth, I am pretty sure it's just more of the same--not in a bad way or anything, but I don't think the world is changing nearly so dramatically or quickly as I previously believed.

I was pondering war tonight. The U.S. government is responsible for perhaps the most brilliant propaganda effort in history. How else to explain a slack-jawed, wall-eyed populace bleating like sheep as we march into two unjustified wars of aggression? Two countries that never attacked us. Two countries that have already been blisteringly smashed into near oblivion. And yet somehow over half of the country zombie-like marches in lockstep with the party line. 

Wake. Up.

Frustration, Forgiveness, Tension, Release

"He lay listening to the water drip in the woods. Bedrock, this. The cold and the silence. The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void. Carried forth and scattered and carried forth again. Everything uncoupled from its shoring. Unsupported in the ashen air. Sustained by a breath, trembling and brief. If only my heart were stone."
          Cormac McCarthy, "The Road"

So lately I have been feeling some of that old frustration and dissatisfaction with my life creeping back in through the cracks in the veneer. The difference between this and past attempts, however, is that I am actually talking to people about how irritable I'm feeling. It seems that if I can just talk about the things that are going on with me, I can take some of the power away from that feeling.

I sometimes get the feeling that recovery must purely be oriented around reintegrating oneself into society at large. I have no interest in society, or in a nice house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, and I am completely appalled by the idea of the "American Dream." I'd like to say that I want my recovery to be such that I can go on being myself, but unfortunately I really have no idea who I am--for the most part. 

Some of the very few things I do know about myself are:
  1. I am loyal, fiercely loyal, and I love my friends.
  2. I am willing to be a new person.
  3. I am happy for the first time since--well, who knows?

I wasn't happy before--that's one of the most important things for me to remember. I was never happy in my previous life--being a junky was not fulfilling or worthwhile. 

If only my heart were stone.

I started on antidepressants this week. I am taking Lexapro--my prescriber felt that it would be less likely to cause hideous side-effects, so there ya go. It's nice that I'm willing to remain open to that sort of thing, but on the other hand it sort of feels like a failure. I had to acknowledge that I was beginning to feel depressed again, and that is the most dangerous ground of all for me, the slipperiest slope of all.

Tyler & I started a band. We're a new style of core, fancy-pants-core, and yes, it will be fancy. Granted, we haven't made any music so far, but it's really more about image and marketing, right? We're gonna be millionaires.

Love,
Rosswell

Yes yes yes no no no

And it's true that no one truly knows anyone, we can't transmit what's really inside.  And it's true that the world will continue in its spinning, whirling on and on with no regard for our machinations.  And it's true that things aren't so desperate or hollow as the TV would have you believe--no, we are not some Fox News reality.  We are so much more than the squawking heads in the idiot box have been claiming.  And yet, that being said, we are not the alpha & the omega, we are not everything, I am not the calm center of this warm little universe--I am nothing more or less than I was meant to be from the beginning.

Spent so long trying to play God, who'd've thunk it could be so much less painful to simply let go and admit that I have no control over, well, pretty much anything?  Life can improve, dearies, you need only open your hearts.

I am going to an NA convention this weekend out at Jantzen Beach--should be a good time, indeed.  Yeah...um...

Whatever.

Rosswell